Soaked in sweat and mist, my sunny mood begins to gray. “You said we’d reach the stream in the morning, and it’s way past morning.”
I said we’d reach Tarespagia.
“What about the stream?”
Rest, Fallon. We’re almost there.
“Rest? Where?”
Where you sit.
There goes my daydream of inns and beds. Although he brings me more berries, they hardly stave off my hunger, but I don’t complain. I’ve not the energy to do so, and soon, I drift. And when I awake . . .
I think I may be dreaming again.
Fifty-One
Water crashes.
I can feel the wet on my nose.
And sunshine, glorious, bright sunshine.
Morrgot delivered.
It isn’t that I doubted he would, but— No, I wholly doubted it.
He’s been so sullen since we left his abandoned sky city behind that I thought he’d try to steal some of my happiness to even out the playing field.
The stream he promised is so much more than a stream. It’s an oasis with a waterfall. No pale sand cinches the diamond-clear water, and yet I’ve never seen a place more idyllic in my entire life. Rounded boulders shaded by taller boulders and giant palms surround a shallow pool that glimmers in the bright sun.
I don’t wait for Furia to stop walking before I dismount. I just swing off the saddle and stagger toward the oasis, dropping to my knees as though it were an altar, and I, a devout person. I scoop out a handful and splash my face, then drink until I cannot hear the water dropping into my empty stomach. Until the hunger pangs recede and my head clears.
Sated, I stand, throw off my satchel and boots, then wade into the pool fully dressed and crouch to immerse my body. Keeping my knees bent, I open the ties of my shirt, then drag it off my head and scrub it between my sore hands. After I lay it to dry on a hot stone, I tug on the firm knot of the brassiere. When it loosens, my rib cage spills open like an umbrella, my bones reconquering the space that was stolen from them.
I worry I won’t be able to stuff them back inside. Then again, I only wore the breast trap to pass as a male during my brief trip through Rax. Until we reach civilization, I’ve no need to deceive anyone.
Morrgot watches me from the highest rock where he stands guard like a Fae sentry.
My bliss radiates out of me in the form of a smile that transforms into a contented sigh when the brassiere plops into the pool. “I’m so happy right now, I could kiss you.”
Morrgot turns his head as though the idea is so preposterous he can’t stand to look at me.
His disgust merely makes me want to taunt him further. Especially since I have no one else to talk to. “Have you ever had a crow girlfriend?”
His eyes return to me.I had many female friends.
“Because of your status, or is there actual charm beneath that gruff exterior of yours?”
His pause is so great that I sense that I’ve either baffled him or piqued him.What need would a king have for charm?
I’m not certain whether to laugh or frown. Is he serious? “I suppose you’re right, even though it makes me sad for you.”
Why would it make you sad?
I stare at him a moment longer before salvaging my brassiere and setting it to dry beside my shirt, then pluck off my socks and roll down both my pants and underwear. “Because of the type of friends power brings you. They’re not always the honest or loyal type.” After using the rocks as a scrubbing board, I lay my pants and underwear flat, then crouch anew and friction my skin and hair until I’ve scoured off every last ounce of sweat, dirt, and dried blood.
Wringing out my hair, I crane my neck and look back up at Morrgot whose eyes are, like always, fastened to me. I’m starting to think he worries I’ll make a run for it and leave him to find his missing three crows.
