“There aren’t many stays on this side of the river,” Riesh explains, “The next cabin to the east is below the falls. When we tracked you to the crossing, we had to hope you’d made it out before then.”
“I think I would have preferred a waterfall to your green friend,” I admit, and the general’s arms tense around me.
“Green friend?” Awri asks.
“She had a run-in with Niya,” the general explains.
The look Riesh gives me tells me he knows precisely what type of encounter I had with the fea.
“What did you do?” he asks, eyes wide.
I’m glad the general answers, because I have no idea I’d done anything. “She didn’t use the bridge,” he says flatly.
“Thebridge?!” I nearly scream, “She tried to drown me because I didn’t use the bridge?”
“We have agreements with all manner of fea in this forest,” the general explains, “Niya is the guardian of a spring that flows into the river by the crossing. It is her territory, and she allows us safe passage across it, so long as we use the bridge.”
“You could have told me,” I grumble.
“I did,” he says sternly.
“Hardly,” I huff, “You said, ‘take the bridge’ and given the circumstances I would have expected more.”
“Maybe if you trusted me, you wouldn’t need more,” he barks.
“Maybe if you gave me just a little more, I’d learn you could be trusted,” I spit back.
His eyes blaze like I’ve just issued him a challenge, when he says, “I’m beginning to think that perhaps your trust is as hard won as my own.”
It isn’t an accusation like I might have assumed when we first met. Rather, there is respect in the statement and a deeper understanding than I’m accustomed to.
I tear my eyes from his and shrink a little under the continuedspeculative gaze of my friend. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’d arrived at the cabin early and witnessed me wrapped up in the general’s arms. I’m relieved when Caden calls for her attention and she dips her head at me before falling behind to speak with him, Riesh in tow.
While the ilyandis salve works wonders for my pain, it does nothing to stem the weariness of my body. My mind may be unaware of my injuries, but I can tell by its sluggish drag that I need to rest and mend.
The quiet conversation surrounding us and the gentle sway of the horse below lull me in and out of a light sleep. I don’t protest and in fact am only vaguely aware when, with a featherlight touch, the general rests my head against his chest and I slip into a deep and welcome darkness.
I only wake when the salve begins to wear off, the effect of the herb fading as quickly as it set in. I’m very suddenly, acutely aware of every bloody scrape and bit of bruising flesh scattered across my form. A quick glance at my surroundings tells me everything I need to know to fortify myself against the onslaught of pain. Our party has just broken through the thick undergrowth of the ancient forest bordering the palace grounds to the north and it won’t be long before I’m back in the comfort of my chambers.
As a young child, it was a monumental task not to groan and wince in pain after a particularly brutal training lead by Leanna. Any could easily result in a broken bone, and they often had. My lessons on exploiting weakness began early, Leanna turning my own against me in an effort to show the value of perception. She taught me well that the only weakness you have is the weakness you reveal.
Every pointed ear and sideways glance from the nearby calvary is enough to remind me what weakness could cost me now, what it will cost my people if I fail. I shove down the pain, just like any soldier is expected to do, and I don’t say a word. I may not know the general well, but I have little doubt he would halt the entire procession to have me healed, and every soldier present would be reminded of just how fragile mortals can be.
The general stays behind to speak with Toren, when I make my way inside the palace on slow and calculated steps. Toren had been waiting for us when we arrived, deep lines of worry etched into his ivory brow. One look told me those lines were carved into his face long ago and he’d forgottenhow to be without them. Though I hadn’t inquired as to who he was before I departed, it was clear by his attire that he is one of their higher-ranking military commanders.
Awri walks me back to my chamber, leaving me at the door. She promises to check on me later before disappearing down the corridor.
It’s still early, the sky just dim enough for the first of the brightest stars to announce the coming night. I draw a bath and slip in, attentive to the worsening bruise on my side. Washing is a chore with the strain of my wound, and I hurry to climb out and dry off. Combing the knots from my hair feels like a feat all its own, and I don’t even care what manner of insignificant lace sleeping gown I’ve dressed in when I finally drag myself toward the bed.
A thundering knock sounds at my door, and I moan regrettably, seriously debating ignoring it. My eyes linger on the silk sheets. All I want to do is slip beneath them and go to sleep. I’m too tired to lend a single thought to my demon, though I wish I knew where my letter opener had gone so I could slide it under my pillow.
The knock sounds again, and I push out a heavy sigh, shrugging on a gossamer dressing robe before swinging open the heavy wooden door with a wince.
The general barges in with a rather pale looking Caden in tow.
“Do it. Now,” he growls.
“Would you mind taking a seat?” Caden asks, rushing to the settee by the fire in a flustered mess as he gestures me forward, a pleading look in his eyes.
