Eight
Even with the food Faine had found, Ellegra's body still felt as if it was shutting down, one system after another gradually dying. Her feet kept up the laborious task of keeping pace with Faine; wherever he turned, they followed their own intelligent minds and kept track of him.
For two nights, whenever they stopped to camp she would throw herself onto the ground and immediately crash in a dreamless sleep, a pattern that left her groggy and irritable in the morning. Faine scarcely made conversation, but when he did it was more to himself than her. "Doesn't look like a steady journey, does it?" he'd say. Before she could even answer he'd shake his head at himself. "No, not at all." Then he'd continue down the path, following invisible tracks that were lost to the wind. She'd given up talking to him, but each time they stopped for a rest she stared at him from afar, watching the way he'd look out at the sky and study the stars. His dark hair blew in the wind.
Since infancy she'd been told never to trust a Khalysrian. They were shady characters, selfish thieves and murderers, con artists and liars. Not worth the energy spent to kill them she remembered one of her father's guards say. Their races had always harbored a not-so-secret hatred for each other. How she was even still with Faine astonished her. Her father would have died from the disgust. She shouldn't even be near him, yet here she was, begging for his help.
They walked in silence for hours on end, from sunup to sunset, until finally he was the one collapsing on the ground from exhaustion. Heaving, he lifted a hand in the air. "I just need a minute," he panted.
Ellegra nodded. "Say no more." Careful to avoid another bruise for her knee, she lowered herself to the ground and spread her arms and legs out. By now she had more sand in her body than blood. She stared up at the sky set ablaze with colors of red and purple and orange.
Her thoughts drifted off to places she didn't want to venture. Tamshie, the young servant girl turned fugitive all because of what she knew and what someone told her she had to do. "A duty to your kingdom" was what Baz had undoubtedly told her. He had a way with persuading people— especially young, easily susceptible girls who didn't know any better— to get his way, but he was not manipulative. There was not a single bone in his tall, extraordinarily deceiving body that could change a person's heart once it was set to something. Tamshie had wanted to help, no matter the consequences, but she was never truly understanding of what that meant. Unfortunately, she now knew, if not felt, what those consequences actually meant. She had been taken from a life of knowing where she would belong in the world and flung into one that left everything to chance. Nothing was certain anymore.
Cilas haunted her the most. In her dreams, in her nightmares, in the shadows that followed her everywhere she went— Cilas never left her. Every second of every day, she felt the sting of his eyes piercing through her, the burn of his words as he spoke, and the white-hot pain that engulfed her skin from where he'd touched her. It didn't matter how dreadfully hot it was around her— when it came to Cilas, every part of her felt like ice. Frozen. Her hand felt like an icicle moving toward her face, naturally roaming over it to the scar on her right eye. She trailed it down to her jaw, wincing as she saw the glint of the blade rushing toward her. Then her hands moved to the others elsewhere: the bright slashes on her back from a riding "accident"; the pink hole on her hip from target practice that had gone wrong; and the long slash that dove between her breasts. She recalled that day better than any other in her life. Her body froze stiff thinking about it. That was the day she'd learned that nothing she could do would make Cilas love her. There was no word she could say or joke she could tell that would make him look at her with something other than malicious hate.
Her breath choked on the ice moving up her throat. Closing her eyes, she stressed her need to breathe, concentrating on not feeling the burn of her calves, but the way the air flowed through her lungs and into the air again. She thought of Baz. The way he'd talked so animatedly about his future duties as king filled her with pride. He was her brother and best friend. No other person in the world could make her smile or laugh like he could. It didn't matter whether it was from hysteria or pain, Baz was the only one who could soothe her.
She never would have guessed that he would be the one to cause her pain, to let her dwell in it. Alone.
"What happened?" She'd almost forgotten where and who she was with when Faine spoke.
Almost.
Ellegra turned her head to find him sitting up, a hand buried in the sand while the other was slung over his raised knee. The starkness of his blue eyes flashed with curiosity as he stared at her. No, not her— her scar. Her stomach clenched, but she was no longer hungry. She'd lost her appetite the moment she lost control of her thoughts. "I learned the difference between family and blood." Her head turned away to stare up at the sky, shielding her eye from his view.
Faine shifted slightly in the sand. "Your family did that to you?"
"My brother is not family. He may be blood, but he's not family."
Something in Faine's expression changed. The normal hardness dissolved into something subtle and soft. "Your brother—"
"It's not something I like to talk about," she snapped. The air suddenly felt tight around them. Her eyes closed again, but this time she didn't see a gleaming sword crashing down on her, but instead a hand extending toward her, picking her up from the ground and pulling her to her feet. It took everything she had to remember her father's voice, chuckling as he looked down at a twelve-year-old girl caked with dirt. "I thought you said you were ready to train with the big boys."
"I am, Father, I am! I really am! I just needed to rest for a moment."
"Soldiers do not rest in a fight. Hopefully, you'll never have to experience that."
Hot tears pushed from the corners of her eyes. Lifting a hand to wipe them, she pushed herself to her feet. She stood silently for a while, gazing through the valley and at the great walls that surrounded them. Then she started off further down the path, leaving Faine behind her as her feet devoured as much ground as they could. Whether she didn't want to answer or she truly couldn't hear him, she ignored his calls and kept walking, meandering further around the bend until he was no longer in sight. She felt a pang of irritation with him. What senseless idiot would bring up such a stupid conversation? Why not just tell me I'm hideous and be done with it? Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. Stupid Khalysrians.
The steady sound of a trickling stream yanked her from her thoughts and pulled her back to the present. The sun had already fallen below the mountains, blanketing everything in dark shadows. The sight of so much darkness and the fact that she was alone would have made her skin crawl and her nerves run wild had she not been so focused on the glorious sound. Water! Her feet pedaled towards the small trickles gushing from a hole in the rocks to her right, pooling just at is hit the small trough-like bowl in the ground. Instantly she threw herself to her knees, scooping the cold spring water in her hands and lifting it to her dry lips. She gulped as much as she could, dipping her hands back in again and again. She splashed several handfuls on her face, sloshing the water along her neck and running cool fingers through her burning scalp. Her eyes closed in the euphoria. She cupped more and more handfuls to drink.
Her stomach suddenly full and her face dripping, she sat back on her heels and threw her head back, feeling the wind caress her skin. It wasn't until she opened her eyes that she realized that it was completely silent. Not an animal hissed or an insect ticked. Nothing.
Something slammed against her, flattening her on her back and crushing her into the ground. Her head barely avoided smacking the large boulder behind her. Sand flew into her mouth and burned her eyes. "Agh!" she pawed at her eyes, trying to rub out the grains of hell. A hand smacked over her mouth.
"Hush!"
Her words were muffled from his hand, but her tone was sharp enough to kill him. Wiping the last of the sand from her eyes, she glared at Faine and pressed her hands against his broad chest, shoving him off of her. "Get the hell off me!"
"Shh!" he hissed, and pushed her back down.
"Don't touch me!"
"Shut up!" His voice lowered to a whisper, but it was still abrasive. His mouth moved in soft utterings. He looked over the top of the boulder.
"You could have killed me, tackling me like that." He hissed at her, lifting a hand to cover her lips. She smacked it away. "What is your problem?"
His hand snaked around her arm and wrenched her upright. He turned her head to stare off into the valley. "That is my problem."
Her eyes landed in the same moment her breath froze and her body stiffened. The glow of a fire emanated from a small cave several yards away, a figure standing near the entrance with his shoulder braced against the wall.
A figure dressed in black, red, and gold.
"Traders," she said quietly. Faine nodded next to her. She barely turned her head to him, keeping her eyes nailed to the slave trader at the cave, keeping herself low enough to make sure she didn't catch his attention. "You didn't have to tackle me."
"You're right. I should have just let them hear you making all your stupid noises and find us. That sounds like a great idea." The sarcastic chipperness in his voice made her roll her eyes.
Her body slowly began to thaw. She turned away from the stream and sat with her back against the rock, low to keep her head from being seen. "What do we do?" Her thoughts ran with ideas, all of which ended in them being caught. They couldn't run, and this was the only source of water so close to them as far as she knew. They would be needing it eventually before they started walking again. They were bound to find them sooner or later.
Faine sat back next to her, his shoulder and arm covering half of her. No matter how much she hated being this close to him, the boulder wasn't big enough to hide both of them. Especially him. He was almost just as broad. "We wait. At least until he moves." His eyes scanned the rest of the canyon, and she could see the wheel in his head turning, the gears and cogs meshing together to find a solution. Then his eyes flashed. He jutted his chin over her. "There. We can climb up to higher ground and keep watch where they go." Faine twisted around to stare over the top.
She sighed. "I doubt he'll leave his post."
"He's gone." Without warning or waiting for her to respond, he was gone, dashing over the sand and into the open. He covered the ground so fast that it felt like he had never been next to her, but instead had always been on the other side, waving his arms and hands at her to hurry. Checking over the edge, she pushed herself to her feet and ran, stumbling several times in the sand before she reached him. The pain in her ankle flared to life again. Faine bent his knees and interlocked his fingers together. "Grab onto the ledge above and climb up from there. I'm right behind you."
Scoffing, Ellegra propped her hands on a rock above her head, gripping it with her fingers, and heaved herself up. Each one was easier than the one before it, and her foot only slipped twice, the rock crumbling under her. She smiled at the thought of it hitting him under her.
Minutes later, she reached the top, dripping sweat and heaving gasping breaths. Faine emerged several beats later, though he wasn't as fatigued. She felt exhausted to her very core. Rolling over, she heard him settle down onto the ground. "No fire tonight."
"Obviously." She thought of the long night ahead of them. There was no way she was sleeping with those people down there. They were the ones who'd taken Tamshie— if she closed her eyes, she feared she would never open them again.
Then again, the idea had its charms.
"Go ahead and sleep," he said, somehow sensing her thoughts. "I'll keep watch." He stared back out into the valley below. He sat far away from the edge, eyes narrowed into slits, completely focused, but she saw the lines of exhaustion on his brow, the dark rings under his eyes.
"A pang of guilt began to creep its way to her chest. She sat up on an elbow, her brow knitted in worry. "Are you sure? I can stay up. You look like you need it."
"Well, don't hold back on the insults now." He scoffed, shaking his head.
Why do I try? "Whatever, just keep watch."
"I'm tempted not to even watch you."
Rolling her eyes, she flopped back down on her side, turning her back to him. She hugged herself, praying for a dreamless night. She couldn't handle another thought of Cilas. Or Baz.
❂
She was beginning to hate waking in the desert. There were no clouds, trees. Not even birds. Nothing dampened the sun's clarity as it scorched her skin. She woke to blinding light stabbing into her eyes, her lids crusted shut. She heard Faine moving, already awake and shuffling about, coming closer. She lifted her arm to cover and shade her face in shadows. "Faine, I'm begging you. Just three more minutes."
"I like the sound of that."
Every muscle in Ellegra's body froze. Her body tensed, readying itself to leap into action. Faine had a Khalysrian accent, not Asaani.
Time seemed to slow. Ellegra rolled away from him, pulling Faine's knife from her boot as she did. Poised in a crouch, she stared at the Asaani rebel in front of her. He was over six feet tall, his face covered with a kerchief, leaving nothing exposed save glowing brown eyes and thick, ungroomed brows. The mere smell of him made her want to gag.
She couldn't help it. As he took a step closer, and she a step back, she had to ask. "Where is my friend?"
Momentary surprise flashed in the man's eyes, taken aback that she knew his language so easily. "You are Cureldin," he said, advancing another step, "yet you know our language. I suppose that means you're worth more." He took in her curvy frame, her long disheveled braid that fell just past her hips. "Much more." His eyes glinted. Then he lunged.
Swiveling out of the way, she ducked under his outstretched arm, sliding on the ground and under his massive fist. She was suddenly reminded of the fight, the way she had watched Faine and Javo fight, with Faine dancing around the other man to wear him down. She was doing the same thing, only with less energy. "Where is she?!" she yelled.
"Probably on her back, where she belongs." The sneer that twisted his lips made her skin crawl. She wanted to claw it off.
With a cry of anger, she threw herself at him, ducking and dodging under his several blows, until he took a step she hadn't prepared for. His foot came crashing down on top of hers. His hand smacked the knife from her hand. It skittered and dragged on the ground until it went over the edge and into the canyon below. His hand was around her throat in seconds, the ground disappearing from under her feet. Dots instantly began to cloud her vision. "A prickly rose, I see. What a shame. It's not easy to deflower something with thorns, but I guess that's what makes it fun."
Ellegra kicked her legs, driving her feet into his gut, but nothing had an effect on him. Slowly, they came to a stop, then limply dangled from the rest of her. She waited, for the first time in her life actually praying for her curse to activate and propel him away from her, blast his body like it had Reza and the other men like him all those nights ago. But as her eyes started to close and her body began to stop fighting a fate she knew she deserved, her curse never came, and the darkness was suddenly so welcoming.
The rebel's body jerked forward. His face changed. Flashes of anger and pain and confusion rang out over his features, until there was nothing. His grip on her throat fell away, dropping her to the ground. Her knees buckled under her, and she watched as he slowly toppled over, right down on top of her. She braced her legs and arms out. "Faine!" she cried, slowly losing her hold on him. His head pressed into her chest, his smell encompassing her.
Hands wrapped under her arms and pulled her out from under the trader. She and Faine stumbled backwards, her back slamming against his chest. Ellegra's sword protruded from the man's back. She'd forgotten all about it, but the truth was she forgot nearly everything she still carried with her. It was a miracle the purse was still tied to her hip.
"Thank you," she gasped, touching the tender skin of her throat to coax more air in. She moved away from him and caught her breath. Faine nodded quietly, subtly acknowledging her gratitude.
"How did you get my sword?" she gasped, still trying to sooth her aching throat. Her lungs felt the air stabbing into them and cried out with every breath before settling down.
He barely glanced at her. "I kept it when I saved your life the first time. I figured that if you already had a deep hatred for me, there was no need to add in something to use against me."
The thought of him touching her in her sleep disgusted her, but she was more concerned with the spatter of blood on her chest from where the man had coughed up on her. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of him that was suddenly all over.
Faine stood, searching the man's pockets and sheaths. He then lifted the dead man's foot, comparing it to his own. Frowning, he let it fall back down and turned to walk away.
Ellegra stared at the body for longer than she needed to. In truth, the idea had been in her head since the moment she had seen one of them standing in the cave entrance last night. Jumping to her feet, she stood over him and grinned excitedly, crouching to feel at his clothes. She pulled the fabric taut between her thumb and index before letting it fall loose again. "Faine, wait." He slowly came to a halt, looking back to glare at her.
"What? We need to get moving. The others can't be far, and they'll be expecting him."
"Exactly." Her eyes must have given away her excitement. He stepped closer, looking from her to the body and back again. His blue eyes then narrowed, but not out of anger. For the first time, he smiled at her. "How good is your acting?"