With my task momentarily forgotten, I place my hand on his shoulder. ‘Ruben, she was so proud of how you used your gift. She would always talk to me about it. Talk about how many lives you must have saved.’
‘She did?’
I nod. ‘She did. Promise.’
He shakes his head slightly, as if trying to make the words sink in.
‘She never said anything like that to me.’
‘Probably to keep that giant ego of yours down.’ I grin.
‘Yeah, makes sense.’
The laugh that leaves us is a mixture of humour and sadness. Ruben doesn’t have enough arrogance to fill his little finger, and we both know that. Every bone in his body is pure kindness, just like Noleen’s was.
I’m just glad she’s no longer in pain. No longer suffering.
‘Okay,’ I say, drawing us back to the task at hand and pulling us out of the melancholy that threatens to claim us. ‘Over to you. Remember, I still need the moss mossy. I just need it sterilised, that’s all.’
Just like when he was drying out the wood, Ruben’s first attempt results in a pile of blackened, charred moss. His second attempt smokes lightly before also catching fire.
‘It’s all right, don’t worry,’ I tell him, but he shakes his head.
‘Just give me a couple of minutes. I can do it right. I nearly had it.’
This time he holds it in his hand longer than the others, but there are no great waves of magic flowing from him. Instead, there’s just a constant, low buzz. When he’s done, he blows it lightly to cool it down. When it’s cool enough for me to handle, he passes it back to me.
‘That’s as much as I can do without it turning crispy,’ he says. ‘But I think I got it hot enough.’
‘Thank you.’
The hopefully sterilised moss is still substantially hotter than I expected, and I’m forced to juggle it lightly between my hands for the first couple of moments to stop it from burning me. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for it to cool enough to let me squeeze it into two little balls. I hold them in my hands and let my magic flow into them, not to grow them or change them, but to tell the moss what I want of it: silence.
I release the moss from my power, unsure whether I’ve added a magical component to it or not.
‘Loch?’ I call over to the older man. His eyes jerk towards me. ‘I’ve got something for you. Try these in your ears.’
I’ve no idea if they’ll work. After all, his hearing is magical, not just physical. But I think it’s worth a shot. And clearly he does, too, as he pushes them into his ear canals with eagerness. He instantlybeams at me.
‘Better?’ I ask.
‘Much better,’ he yells, making me grin. Mission accomplished.
Loch’s pacing decreases, and while that allows Benny a little time to relax, it doesn’t ease the tension in the camp the way I hoped it would. The dire wolf’s unusual behaviour is making everyone nervous. Whatever’s going on with her, I’m now pretty sure this isn’t just about Kyor.
It takes me a few minutes to build up the courage to do what I have to do.
‘Hey.’ Kyor barely lifts his head to look at me, but he doesn’t tell me to fuck off, so I carry on. ‘What’s wrong with Elska? She wasn’t even this upset when we were racing to Galreck and you were dying on her back.’
Rather than responding, Kyor presses his lips together and takes a long inhale through his nose.
‘I just want to help,’ I push.
Finally, he offers a nod. ‘She’s sensing pain, and she’s desperate to go and ease it, but she won’t leave me.’
It’s my turn to press my lips together, trying to ignore the lump that’s building in my throat.
‘Are you sure she’s not talking about you?’ I ask. ‘Your injury? And maybe … about us? Your emotions must be …’ I trail off, not sure how to complete the sentence.
