Cold water splashed Parcival's face and he sputtered

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Cold water splashed Parcival's face and he sputtered. Han held an open waterskin. He stood up and wished he hadn't. The pain flooded him and he passed out.

"Are you alive? Wake up!"

It was annoying trying to sleep, but some joker kept poking his shoulder. Just want to go back to sleep, blissful quiet. That poking again.

"Let me be!" He barked, then rolled over, pain gnawed at his back, he stopped mid-roll and tried to sleep.

"You can't go back to sleep from the beating they gave you, you might not wake up. Sit up, now!" Han's sweet tobacco tickled his nose, crinkling it he snorted.

Han pushed on his chest and rolled him back and forth, and blew more smoke near his face. Ugg! That little rat. "Go away!" It was too late, awake now he sat up and rubbed his forehead.

Merryn. He had to bring her home, dad should be able to help. He opened his eyes.

"Here we go again," Han said.

"Quite sick of this." He ground his teeth and spat on the grass. "Those men must be dealt with. Now." Standing he wobbled just catching his balance in time.

Han moved over to help him, but he put his hand out in front of his face.

"No."

"Well, you'll just have to tell her then," Han said.

He shook his head. "I will."

They headed off to the West following the horse's tracks. A week passed the tracks vanished.

"I still think she should not be trusted fully, given that she's a thief. They are a shifty lot."

"Yes, but true dire thieves don't pray, prayers burn them. There is something off about her."

Han jumped onto the horse. "You just refuse to see it, blinded by a pretty face!"

Parcival pointed to a pathway that split off the main road.

Near the side of the road, a flock of sparrows landed, surrounding a rare blue Amaryllis. Some said they gave luck, she needs more that is for sure.

He bent down and picked it and wrapped it in a handkerchief. Han shook his head at him as he placed it in the horse pack.

"I thought you had warmed to her?" The way her hair swirled in that first meeting came to mind. The way her touch jolted across his skin, and her voice soft and low. How gentle she was when not fighting. That lofty attitude was not her.

"I'm simply pointing out that trouble follows her around. I think she's cursed!" His whiskers quivered. "Just like my aunt Amka. Spirits praise her." He quickly made the circular hand sign of the goddess.

The long miles gave much time to think, too much, it was confusing another week passed before they found the pathway that lead to the town on the map, was a good investment purchasing one from the merchant in the last town.

(On Hold)❧ Soul Tear ❧ Book One: The Last Spirit AdaptRead this story for FREE!