Tainted

Chapter Forty-One

"And Gaia forbid I'm not at my healthiest to help you break into the prison," I snipe.

"That's not...Thief." Rogue takes hold of my elbow, swinging me around to face him.

"You need medication and wraps for your legs. I am a healer and I am concerned for your health. This has nothing to do with whether or not you are able to complete the mission." His green eyes search my face.

"Okay," I say, feeling the warmth of his hand on my elbow. "Thank you."

The hint of a smile crosses Rogue's lips. "You're welcome." He lets go of my elbow.

"Go sit by the fire," Rogue instructs, nodding his head in the direction of curling smoke. "I'll bring you a salve. You are exempt from camp duty this evening, but tomorrow I expect you to pull your weight."

"Of course," I say. I'm tempted to be honest and tell him I remember everything from last night, albeit hazily, but he's already moving away toward his medical kit.

I waddle over to the fire and take a seat on a cushion. Sani rolls her eyes at me and Dem sneers, but I ignore them. I can't handle it tonight. Just shifting my weight seems to make my legs burn.

Sailor dumps a bundle of sticks by the fire, and plops down on the sand next to me.

"How did yae like th' horse ride, Mira?" he asks.

I grit my teeth and pull up the legs of my pants. "I don't know if I'm cut out for riding horses."

Sailor hisses through his teeth. "Does i' hurt?"

"Yes. But Rogue says he has a salve or something for it," I say.

Sani stops. She's in the middle of building a crude, rotating spit, but she puts a stick aside and surveys me across the fire.

"Are you going to slow us down?" she asks pointedly.

I shake my head vigorously. "No. I will not. I believe in this as much as you do."

Sani's lip curls.

Besides, I think, fingering the hem of my teal sleeve, I've never been included as part of a team. I'm not going to let you all down. If it's the last thing I do.

Sani makes quick work of building the spit. I watch as she slides three small game hens onto the rotating stick. Her hands move like Tanymede's—sure and strong. But that's where the resemblance ends. There's too much edge to Sani's expression to make her look anything like the warm Tanymede I've come to know.

Thinking of Tanymede makes me realize how quiet it is. There's no conversation, no music, just the sound of spitting meat and a crackling fire.

I lean into Sailor, liking the friendly feeling of him, and rest my head against his shoulder. He lays his arm around me and I smile, settling into his side.

"Did I ever tell yae th' Laplands is where I found I don' like water?" Sailor asks quietly.

"Oh no." I twist my neck so I can look up at Sailor. His blue eyes reflect the flickering flame of the fire.

"My father's a captain an' he ha' business in th' Laplands, an' so he brough' me along. I think he hoped tha' I would ge' a likin' for th' family business, but tha's when I discovered my fear o' water," Sailor says.

"What did your father say?" I ask.

"'e wasn' pleased," Sailor says, but he laughs softly.

"So he's okay with you not wanting to become a captain?" I ask.