Thia studied her for a long moment, knowing she should listen, but unable to do so. Finally, she sighed, her respect for the girl’s choice getting ahold of her. “Okay,” she agreed. She turned to go. “But, Ren.” She paused. “You should know. I like the real you.” That girl was kind. Thoughtful. A sweet voice in a night full of terrors.
She didn’t wait to see the effect of those words, but gave Oskaren space to recover in peace. The first compliment had been a test. The second she’d given purely because she meant it. And that thought was almost as terrifying as the witch that awaited them.
THIRTY-TWO
TWO MORE DAYS PASSED WITHOUT EVENT. RAIN HIT ON THE FIRSTnight, and Thia was more grateful than ever for their spelled cloaks. Thran strung up a tarp that appeared to be made of some kind of leather, and they stayed as dry as could be expected. Thia spent lunches and evenings training with Dess and Oskaren, practicing the same few tricks over and over until the latter was confident she could do them in her sleep. “You’ll have one shot,” was Oskaren’s constant refrain. Thia heard the impliedDon’t fuck it up.The girl avoided her otherwise, until Thia started to worry that she’d pushed her too far, that whatever was left of her had retreated deep inside herself where the pain of her feelings could no longer reach.
When the next night came, the fifth since Huckleton, and they still hadn’t hit Losrohiria, Thia also began to worry they were taking too long. She tried not to resent Oskaren for costing them a day with her capture, but it was hard when she did nothing but alternate between barking orders and ignoring them.
On the sixth day, Thia had finally had enough. Maybe it was that she had been slightly damp for over seventy-two hours. Maybe it was that she was starting to feel insecure about her admission of affection, when all the other girl did was look blankly at her. She even missed the usual smirk, because it least it had some semblance of feeling in it, even if it was pretend.
Or maybe it was that, deep down, she knew Oskaren’s retreat was her fault. So when the girl barked what felt like the hundredth correction in their training session that evening, Thia snapped. Oskaren had been running them through a knife-throwing drill. They were an hour in, and Thia’s arm was exhausted, her dagger clattering against the target tree, falling harmlessly to the ground—as had every one of her previous throws—instead of sticking to the bark like it was supposed to. Oskaren said, “Again,” in a flat voice, from a few yards away where she perched casually on a stone, and Thia whirled on her.
“Why don’t you get off your ass and show me,” she growled, wishing against all odds to get a rise out of her.
Dess, perplexed by the outburst, halted mid-throw. Thran, who was taking the opportunity to clean his boots of mud, glanced over as well.
Oskaren didn’t react. “I already showed you.”
“Well, I’m clearly not doing it right.”
“Clearly.”
There should have atleastbeen a smirk with that comment. But Oskaren wasn’t even looking at her. Before her mind could catch up, Thia’s feet closed the distance, her hand taking Oskaren’s and dragging her to her feet before she realized what she’d done.
Where are you?Thia wanted to scream.Come back.
At least the girl allowed herself to be towed without protest.
Thia stopped in front of the target. “Show me again.”
Faster than Thia would have thought possible, the girl whipped a dagger from her belt and threw it into the tree where it landed, hilt-deep, with athwack. “Happy?”
“How can I be?” she said, and from Oskaren’s frown Thia knew the girl understood exactly what she meant.
Instead of answering, she brushed past Thia and collected her knife from the tree. When she returned, her face was a mask of disinterest. “Again.”
Thia knew she was being selfish, when what she wanted caused Oskaren pain. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that they could win, that the curse would lose its hold, if only Oskaren would believe it.
If she couldn’t tempt her with goodness, maybe she could with a fight. So she did the only thing she could think of. She attacked.
Or at least she tried to. She should have known how fast the other girl was by her knife throw, by their first training session when she had bitten Thia. But as she placed her hands on Oskaren’s chest, the girl knocked her wrists to the side and spun her around in one fluid movement that sent Thia sprawling.
She raised her chin, tailbone smarting, and was rewarded with a glare.
Good.
She tackled Oskaren’s legs. This time, the girl couldn’t stop her, and she also went down, though she managed to recover with an effortless roll back to her feet. Thia stood and faced her, shoulder aching slightly from impact with the girl’s knees.
“What are you doing?” Oskaren asked, still.
“Showing you what I’ve learned?” Thia offered.
“I didn’t teach you that.”There. The tiniest hint of a smirk.
“Maybe not,” Thia agreed. “But you did teach me this.” She launched herself at Oskaren.
As expected, the girl sidestepped, arms rising to pin Thia’s to her side, her chest to Thia’s back. “You were saying?” the girl said smugly.
