Chapter 27 Price of Kindness
Price of Kindness
Luna woke as the sun peeked over the horizon, its light warming her entire body beneath the blanket.
Their supplies were already packed, and Damien sat on the ledge, kicking his feet, looking down below.
How long had he been awake? She stretched her arms above her head and winced.
Her body ached. Skies above, she missed her old bed.
She folded up her blanket and rolled it into a small log to make it easier to tie to her horse’s saddle before plopping down beside Damien.
With sleep still hanging in her voice, she said, “Morning.”
“Good morning to you,” he said with a little smile, then passed her some dried meat.
Between bites, she asked, “Is the rest of our ride going to be as hard as yesterday?”
“We still have a bit of climbing ahead of us, but once we get over this mountain, the track is a lot better. Are you still sore?”
Yes—so very sore. It felt like the inside of her thighs were raw, and that her hips were permanently stuck in a splayed position from the saddle. “Better than before,” she lied.
Once they ate, Damien helped her mount Pickles, and they began the long trek up.
It was midday by the time they reached the top of the rocky mountain.
Standing there, Luna expected to be able to see the entire world, but the only thing in sight was more mountains.
They filled the land, their ragged peaks touching the sky, making the mountain they had just climbed look like a tiny hill in comparison.
Damien pointed to two peaks not too far in the distance. “Once we get to that valley, there is a river that will lead us directly to Kalt Ravine.”
With that, they began travelling again. Soon, the rocky landscape was replaced with grassy fields and several trees.
Glacier movement over thousands of years had stripped the land of its forest, leaving behind gravel and huge boulders scattered randomly throughout the dips of the valley.
Pickles walked beside Barley, allowing Luna and Damien to ride side by side for the first time in a while.
Damien turned to her, a cheeky grin on his face.
“I think it’s time you learned how to control that horse of yours on your own.
” Holding up the reins, he demonstrated how to properly hold them.
After she understood that, he then explained how to steer using the reins in combination with her legs, but balancing on top of the horse and steering at the same time was a tad overwhelming.
Pickles seemed to move as fast as lightning, even though they were just walking.
Damien spoke softly, encouraging Luna, and after some time, her confidence grew: She held the reins a little higher, sat a little straighter.
“I think I’m ready to go faster.”
“Alright,” he said, with something like pride in his eyes. “Squeeze your legs a bit and give her a light kick with your heels.”
Luna did, and Pickles took off at a trot. Another squeeze, another nudge, and Pickles sped up to a canter—a much smoother gait, comparable to floating on a cloud.
She circled Damien a few times, getting used to the movement and an idea occurred to her. Unable to hide her emotions, a mischievous grin pulled at her lips and she stopped Pickles next to Barley. Giving Damien a side-eye glance, she shouted, “Race you!”
She clamped her legs against Pickles’s side, squeezing as hard as she could. The mare instantly took off, whizzing past Damien, and from behind, Luna heard Damien laugh, a deep belly-filled laugh. Barley whinnied, too, as if the mare was answering Luna’s challenge and the race was on.
Pickles’s hooves thundered against the ground, carrying them farther and farther down the mountain.
Luna dared a quick glance behind her and saw Damien and Barley galloping towards her, shortening the distance between them.
With a smile on her face, Luna pressed Pickles forward, encouraging her to go faster and faster until she was at a full gallop, their surroundings blurring.
She closed her eyes, soaking in the moment—the happiness of it; she imagined this is how it would feel to fly.
It didn’t take long for Damien’s mare to catch up to her. Soon, Pickles and Barley were nose and nose, moving so fast the wind stung Luna’s eyes and tears ran down her face. She looked over at Damien; his green eyes were calm, focused solely on the stretch of ground in front of them.
He looked at her and grinned, dimples indenting his cheeks. For a moment, the whole world seemed to slow down as if seconds were minutes. She memorized his expression, wanting to store it in her brain to admire again and again.
With a wink, Damien moved Barley’s reins to the side, and Barley began to move in, cutting Pickles’s stride shorter and shorter, forcing her to slow to a trot.
“No fair!” Luna cried out.
Like the cheeky bastard he was, he replied, “Says the one who had a head start.”
He had a point, she supposed.
She glanced over her shoulder and was surprised by how far they had descended. It had taken them nearly two days to climb up, yet in only a few short hours, they were nearly at the bottom.
Luna leaned forward and patted the mare’s wet neck. Both horses were slick with sweat, their coats steaming. “That was incredible,” she murmured, still riding the high of their descent. “I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to race as a unicorn.”
She half-expected Damien to mock her, knowing how disinterested—frankly appalled—she had been by her unicorn side, but he didn’t. He merely said, “I would teach you all I could if you asked.”
He had never once held her aversion to magic against her, and now that she was slowly accepting her true nature, Damien seemed as dreamy as ever.
She was falling for him; it made her uneasy. Could she trust her instincts? The last time she had been in love, things hadn’t gone well. Clyde had played with her heart . . . all so he could have a unicorn’s power in his back pocket, and to climb in status.
Perhaps his betrayal warped her perception of things now. It was hard for her to believe someone could be this generous—this kind—without an ulterior motive.
Yet, here Damien was. He asked nothing of her and promised her safety all the same. Comfort. Knowledge. Freedom. Everything and anything she could ask for, he was ready to deliver.
They continued moving through the glacier-crushed lands, and by the time they reached the river winding towards Kalt Ravine, the sun had started to sink in the sky. They stopped by the riverside, giving themselves and the horses a much-needed break.
Cupping her hands, Luna drank from the river; the cold water cut through her exhaustion as it slid down her throat.
Damien stood in bushes taller than a horse’s head, his hands rummaging through their leaves for deep blue-violet berries.
He picked one, tossed it up in the air and caught it in his mouth.
When he caught her looking, he grinned. “Saskatoon berries grow wild in these parts. The darker the colour, the sweeter they are.”
“Can I try?” Luna asked.
Damien grabbed another berry off of the bush and said, “Open up.”
Luna parted her lips, and he tossed the berry. It soared through the air, but she reflexively flinched away as the berry came down near her face. “Let me try again,” she practically ordered, and after a half-dozen failed attempts, she demanded that he just pass her some.
Sweetness exploded on her tongue. She quickly grabbed more, stuffing her face full. This was a true treat after days of eating only stale bread, cheese, and dried meat.
“That smile,” Damien whispered, his voice low. “I don’t think you know what you do to me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What do I do?”
His lips pressed together, and he shook his head; yet another question he wouldn’t answer.
He did that a lot—remained silent or distracted her by asking a question of his own.
She was about to call him out on this behaviour when he suddenly scooped her up into his arms and dashed further into the bushes.
“Wha—”
He placed a finger to her lips, beckoning her to be quiet.
She gave a slight nod, holding her breath as she strained to hear what had made him so tense. Someone was singing; soldiers wouldn’t do that. She slipped from Damien’s grip, peering through the leaves.
A small group trudged along the riverbank: two men, a woman, and several children, all sunburnt and threadbare.
Luna stepped out and gave the group a small wave. Damien followed, but he didn’t replicate her friendly gesture.
The wind tugged at the long black hair of a man who looked up, his gaunt face splitting into a grin. “You headed to Kalt Ravine too?”
Damien frowned deeply, and after a long pause, he replied, “We are.” His voice was as cold as the icy river water they had bathed in.
“Guess we are heading in the same direction then,” he answered cheerily, as if Damien and Luna were his long-time best friends. “I’m Sael.” He held out a hand, reaching to shake Damien’s.
Damien folded his arms across his chest.
Undeterred, he dropped his hand and nodded towards the woman. “This is my wife, Ly. The kids running around are ours . . .” His gaze slid to his male companion as he added, “But, the baby is his, Taemin.”
Ly gave a tight smile, gently rocking the sleeping infant strapped to her chest. Despite the rags she wore, she was utterly gorgeous with her ebony hair braided tightly against her head.
Taemin stood behind her, with tired brown eyes; his charcoal hair was cropped short and streaked with silver. He was thin—too thin.
Sael continued, “If you have anything to spare . . .” He gestured to the children clinging to Ly, eyes hollow with hunger. “It’s been days since they’ve had a proper meal.”
Luna didn’t have to look at Damien to know exactly how unmoved he was from their misfortune. She turned, reaching for the pack on Barley’s back, but Damien blocked her with his arm.
“Don’t. Humans can’t be trusted, no matter how small.”