The sun is beginning to set, painting the sky honey-gold.
There are no trees on this part of the moor that we could use to help build a shelter, and no gorse to protect us from the cool breeze blowing in from the north.
I watch as Sheen walks in a perfect circle around our camp, his hands outstretched.
‘He’s creating a wind shield,’ Spinner informs me as she unhooks the cooking pot from her satchel. ‘It’ll keep us warm while also acting as a sound barrier.’
‘Well,’ I say, making a conscious effort not to sound impressed. ‘That answers my question about what other tricks he can do.’
‘Would you like me to make you a list, Harglade?’
I almost jump out of my skin as Sheen’s voice whispers into my ear, despite the fact that he’s standing more than ten feet away from me.
There is only one other person I know capable of such a thing–King Balen.
‘How are youdoingthat?’ I gasp, unable to suppress the shiver that crawls up the back of my neck.
‘I told you,’ Sheen murmurs, barely moving his lips. ‘I’m exceptionally gifted.’
I clamp my hands over my ears. ‘Stop it.’
He turns back to finish his wind shield, smirking slightly. I bristle, peeved at being bested yet again. I wonder whether he secretly enjoys our sparring. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen anything slightly resembling amusement flicker across that face – which is, I might add, entirely wasted on him. Unpleasant people don’t deserve to be beautiful.
‘Flint? Come here and light a fire, would you?’
I wince. Every night Spinner asks the same question, and every night I give her the same feeble response. ‘Too tired.’
‘Again?’
‘Yup. It takes up a lot of energy, you know, being me. Use the flint and steel–they’re in here.’ I slip my satchel from my shoulder and toss it to her.
Grumbling, Spinner begins rummaging through the contents. She pulls out my last few vials of painkiller. ‘There aren’t many left. Have you got reserves?’
‘Thosearemy reserves,’ I tell her.
‘Oh,’ she says, looking troubled. ‘Well, maybe we’ll pass an apothecary soon and you can get some more.’
‘Yes,’ says Sheen dryly, glancing round at the deserted expanse of moorland. ‘I’m sure I glimpsed one just up there by that patch of heather.’
I manage to ignore him though it’s getting harder and harder to ignore the pain radiating from my burns.
Spinner pats the ground beside her and holds up the pot of salve. ‘Why don’t you let me put some of this on for you?’
‘No.’ I say it too quickly. Both of them are looking at me. ‘I mean … no, thank you.’
‘Why not? You haven’t let me help you at all.’
‘I–I just prefer to do it myself.’ I shrug. ‘It’s no big deal.’
Spinner looks slightly wounded. ‘Well, all right, then. But burns take a while to heal. You need to take proper care of them. The physicians said–’
‘Yes, yes, I know. I’ll get right on it.’ I snatch the supplies out of her hands and start picking my way across the uneven terrain.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Nature calls,’ I yell cheerfully over my shoulder.
When I’m far enough away, I sit down and remove my eyepatch. I take a long time applying the burn salve, letting out a low hiss of pain mingled with relief, then ration out half a vial of painkiller, swallowing it down along with the lump in my throat.
