Blood rushes to my cheeks, but I shake off the satisfaction of his compliment. “You healed her, didn’t you?”
He stills, arms falling to his sides. “I did.”
“Why?”
Creases stretch across his forehead. “Why did I heal her? She wasn’t going to?—”
“No, I’m glad you helped her,” I cut him off to clarify. “But why didn’t you tell me that was possible? You could’ve said something during our training sessions.”
Kalden shakes his head. “There wasn’t enough time. The offensivemaneuver you did, the flare of solar energy, is a primal release of power. It doesn’t require much thought or skill beyond intention. Healing is more complex. You’re not just releasing raw energy into someone else. You have to dilute and localize it to the exact right spot. It’s not a skill that can be taught in a few hours. And if you attempt it without proper training, it could make things much worse.”
He rolls his thumb over the ripe fruit in his hand, then pierces its flesh.
I wince at the juice flowing from the peach’s wound. “Oh.”
As Kalden takes a bite, I consider his words more carefully. “How do you know so much about this? Did someone train you?”
He nods, wiping the dripping juice from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“My big brother,” he says, voice a calculated monotone.
As much as I want to unravel the enigma standing across from me, I don’t press it.
Instead, I hold out a palm. “I’ll take that other peach now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“I’m startingto see why some folks call the aboveground ‘the sun’spits,’” Gem huffs as we climb up a steep incline that’s more sand than grass, forcing all of us to slow to keep a steady footing.
“It’s obscenely hot,” Demi pants in agreement.
Yvonne holds up a middle finger at the sky.
Our black leathers absorb the sun like a sponge. And while I could do without the chafing film of sweat between leather and skin, I don’t mind how the warm compression of the bodysuit presses firmly into my tense muscles—a minor relief that soothes rather than expunges the budding flare-up. Plus, the blisters stretching along my thighs and down the backs of my ankles give me something else to focus on beyond the increasing pressure beneath my skull that’s sharpened from a dull ache to a pulsating stab.
I presume I’m alone in that gratitude as Yvonne pivots her middle finger towards the camera in Demi’s helmet. “This is for whoever had the brilliant idea to clothe us in skintight full-body black leathers. Whycouldn’t you choose a white, breathable cotton or linen?”
“They had to protect us from sun exposure,” Demi reminds her friend. “The double-lined leather is less porous than other loosely woven fabrics like cotton or linen.”
Yvonne mutters under her breath. Something about stuffing loosely woven fabrics up someone’s ass, I think, though it’s hard to tell over the ringing in my ears harmonizing with the muted, ebbing roar of what must be the nearing ocean.
Demi pulls out a rudimentary map marked with red circles, similar to the one stuffed into my own knapsack. She eyes it studiously for a moment.
“Maybe we should head that way.” She points to her left, where the cluster of trees is slightly denser than the sparser foliage along the forest’s edge. “There should be a smaller nest not too far from here to the west. If we stay on the ridgeline, we should still be able to see if we pass by the others, or if any Sols are lurking out on the dunes.”
Kalden pauses atop the hill’s crest without commenting on Demi’s suggestion.
“Hellooo?” Yvonne snaps her fingers as she finishes herascent and strides up to Kalden. “What do ya say about headingover?—
Shadows’ mercy!”
Hand flying to her chest, she takes a shaky step back.
Demi drops the map. “What? What’s wrong? Is it your wounds?”
Yvonne shakes her head, then gestures to something in the distance. Gem and I stumble up the rest of the way to join them.
As soon as I reach Kalden’s side, I see it. Several dozen yards to our right, glittering blue water spills into white-capped waves that stretch and retreat across the sand. When I’d glimpsed it earlier this morning, the ocean was little more than a far-off streak on the horizon. Now I’m close enough to hear its rolling melody. And when I breathe, I catch a whiff of the salty moisture Demi’s aunt warnedher not to drink.
