Glancing sideways, she caught Mira watching her with one dark brow raised.
“Oh, you know,” Rynna said quickly, waving the half-eaten wrap in a vague arc toward the trees beyond the village. “Out there. Somewhere.”
“Right.” A quiet exhale slipped through the other woman’s nose. Then her features softened, and she stepped closer. “I hope, one day, you’ll trust us with your story.” Her fingers grazed Rynna’s in a fleeting, maternal gesture. “Even if it’s only the snake. Everyone deserves at least one person who truly knows them.”
Kaelith didn’t speak behind her. She could feel him, though, like a shadow draped just out of reach. And something in her gut clenched so tight it might shatter.
She didn’t flinch or draw her hand away. But a twitch passed across her cheek even as she forced herself not to react, not to feel the way her stomach had just hollowed out at the words.
“It’s not that interesting.” The words barely escaped through the ringing in her ears. “Really.”
More deflections. The truth was, she didn’t know how to talk about it. Not the before. Not what she remembered. And not what she didn’t. Even the scraps she clung to would sound insane if she ever said them aloud.
Best to keep it buried.
Best to enjoy the peace here, however long it lasted.
She shoved the rest of the food into her mouth, chewing hard and fast, grateful for the excuse not to speak.
“Are we going or what?” she mumbled around the mouthful, shooting Ben a look and jerking her chin toward the door.
Anything to change the subject.
“Yay!” Ben bolted ahead, arms flailing as he galloped down the path like a wild colt set free. Mira followed at a more measured pace, the faintest smile ghosting across her lips.
Rynna fell in behind, the sound of their footsteps echoing against the narrow rock walls as they descended the first step ladder. Morning light skimmed the edge of the crevasse above, casting long shadows down the terraced stone structures that made up the mountain village.
“So…” Rynna watched the boy disappear down the next turn. “Any sign of whoever attacked us?”
Mira’s eyes flicked to her, sharp for just a moment, calculating, but her expression smoothed quickly into something unreadable. She’d been suspiciously tight-lipped since interrogating Kaelith that night over a month ago.
“No,” the woman said finally, brows drawing together as she followed the boy’s path. “We’re hoping it was a random encounter. Explorers who wandered too close to the border. And that your…aggressive response prevented any further exposure.”
Rynna winced inwardly. She wasn’t sorry for her actions, but she had made a mess of it. Literally. Despite that, though, her instincts were screaming that whatever that group was, they hadn't stumbled on this place by accident. But Mira didn’t comment further. She simply passed a warm, leaf-wrapped breakfast roll to a nearby villager as they moved toward the next ladder.
“It would’ve been helpful to have a live prisoner to confirm the theory, though.”
“Right.” Her attention drifted over the lower levels where the morning haze clung to rooftops and villagers began to stir, stretching limbs and lighting fires. “Sorry about that.”
“What’s done is done.” Mira was already descending the next ladder. “We’ve increased Watch patrols and added new posts regardless.”
Rynna paused at the top of the ladder, fingers flexing on the rung. The village clearly valued its secrecy, but that didn’t mean she could stop wondering.
Her voice dropped a little. “What was behind that boulder, anyway?”
Kaelith had known more than he’d let on. He had not ended up there by accident. That much was obvious.
Rynna’s fists flexed at her sides.
And the bastard had yet to loop her in.
Trust goes both ways.The growl of frustration in her mind rose, only to be cut off by Mira’s voice.
“That is not for you to know, Rynna.”
“Right.” Rynna ducked under the outstretched pole of a passing man carrying two sloshing pails of water, the wooden yoke balanced across his shoulders. She turned back toward Mira with a thin, bitter exhale.
So, no trust there either, apparently.
