Chapter 37
“So stupid.”—“Stubborn little thing.”—“One day, you’ll be the death of me.”
A groan left my throat. Sleeping was difficult when Dion was constantly mumbling curses in my ear.
“Shut up.”
I couldn’t tell if he didn’t hear me or if he just disregarded my words as he mumbled on.
“Next time, I’ll restrain you somewhere far away.”—“Irresponsible tiny woman.”—“Come on, open your eyes.”
I didn’t want to wake up. Instead, I wished to go back to sleep.
I must have drifted off for another moment because the next time when I woke up, Dion had stopped insulting me. Instead, he was tenderly stroking my hair, which I enjoyed even in my half-asleep state.
But my bliss didn’t last too long, as the physical discomfort turned into something sharper, and I realized I was in pain, something that had become my default state far too often lately. Suddenly, the recent events were catapulted back into my memory, and I opened my eyes.
“The monster?” I said, trying to focus my gaze on Dion, who had my head in his lap and was crouched over me, one hand still in my hair.
“Dead.”
“The others?”
“Mostly fine. Fig has a few scratches, and Thain’s arm will need some time to heal, but no one suffered any permanent damage.”
I let out a relieved sigh.
“But you are in so much trouble.”
“What?”
“I told you to stay away, you stubborn thing. Instead, you ran into the fight and got smacked around by the one thing I ordered you to avoid at all costs. If that tail had pierced your defenses, all we could have done was watch you die a horrible death, Naya. There’s no antidote to the potent poison of a Wailos. ”
Dion’s broad chest heaved, and he glared at me as angrily as he sounded. The usual muscle in his jaw ticked again and again. There was also worry in his expression, but the fury resided much closer to the surface.
Groaning, I tried to sit up, but Dion held me down. “Don’t expect me to do nothing when my friends are in danger or wounded.”
“That’s exactly what I expect!”
“I’m not arguing about morals with you of all people.”
Finally, I managed to sit up. My whole back felt like a giant bruise, and I guessed I wasn’t too far off about that.
“This can’t happen again, Nayana.”
“It won’t happen again because next time I simply won’t get hurt.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“I already told you that I don’t want to discuss this.
” I gritted my teeth as I heaved myself to my feet.
Even though I understood Dion was angry at me for putting myself in harm’s way—and not for the first time—he also had to understand I wasn’t going to stand by and watch people I cared about get butchered.
“Where are the others?” The surrounding area was abandoned, and except for our massive horse, nothing alive was in sight.
Dion got up as well. “They’ve already moved on to the next village. Ireas needs to refill his kit. Carthain and Fig have to rest in a proper bed, and Antas accompanies them. We’ll follow as soon as we’re done here.”
“Carthain?”
“Never heard of nicknames?”
“Is Dion one too?”
Dion just shrugged.
“Ah, I get it. The answer is yes, but if I ask you about your name, you’ll just answer with your favorite word in the world and growl at me.”
This time, the infuriating bastard simply scoffed.
“Well, let’s go then.”
“We’re not done.”
“I think we are.”
“First, I want you to swear to me that you’ll never do anything as stupid as that again.” Dion balled his fists as he glared at me.
My eyes narrowed at him. If he thought I’d accept him trying to bully me into making promises I had no intention of keeping, he was wrong. “I won’t. I refuse to stand on the sidelines like a damsel in distress.”
“Getting involved got you hurt. Again!” Dion snarled, his teeth bared.
My temper flared, and the only fact preventing me from exploding was reminding myself that, as the Field Marshal, Dion couldn’t be used to insubordination.
Honestly, his rank explained so much when it came to his behavior.
I bet he only went into a career like the one he had because of his constant need for control.
“I survived.”
“This time! What if it doesn’t end so well the next time you decide to indulge in stupidity? You could die!”
“So could you. Or anyone else. I’m not the only mortal here. I worry just as much as you do. You’re not indestructible yourself.”
“I never said I was. But I have experience and training, as well as offensive talents. Sorry to say, dearest, but you have none of that. What you did was brave, and it says a lot about your big, soft heart, but I don’t want to see you hurt, for the sake of the gods.”
My sigh mirrored his. “I won’t promise to stay away like an obedient puppy. I swear, though, that I’ll take a lot more care the next time I’ll engage.”
Dion’s jaw worked as if suppressing the urge to shake me put a total strain on him, and he was about to object when I cut him off.
“That’s the only concession you’ll get from me, so you’d better take it. Friends and comrades protect each other.”
“Sometimes, I just want to take you to a faraway place and lock you in a tower, then throw away the godsdamned key.” Grumbling, Dion glared at me.
I glowered back at him. “Don’t you even dare to try, or we’ll find out which of the ten ways to castrate a man Rewi told me about will be the one that dismembers you.”
I expected another angry remark or barked comment, but Dion’s face smoothed, and moments later, he laughed heartily. My lips curled into a grin as well.
“Ten ways, huh?”
“And five more that should work most of the time.”
“Don’t tell her, but your friend can be scary.”
“Oh, believe me, I know. Shall we ride?” I asked when Dion’s laughter turned into a broad grin, highlighting his dimples once again. Gods, these should be forbidden.
Dion nodded, and together we approached our black horse.
As usual, he helped me into the saddle before joining me on the back of the giant animal.
I had to stifle a hiss as a fresh wave of pain shook my battered spine.
Each step our mount took was a sharp sting, but I didn’t allow it to show.
The last thing I wanted was another lecture from the overprotective man seated behind me.
“By the way, Nayana,” Dion purred, and something in his voice rang a warning bell in my head. “Why do you reek of Ireas?”
A confused sound escaped me before I remembered the little heart-to-heart with the young man before the monster had appeared. How was Dion able to smell that?
“Ireas was distressed. We talked, and I comforted him.”
“Next time, you’d better give comfort from a distance.”
I almost laughed, but it turned into more of a snort. “Don’t try to tell me what I can or cannot do with my friends.”
Dion’s arms tightened around me, and I suppressed a painful wince at the last second. “I’m not trying to tell you. I’m very strongly requesting it.”
“And I deny your request.”
“Nayana, I won’t accept you denying my request.”
“That sounds very much like a you problem.” A teasing undertone crept into my voice.
This entire conversation bordered on the absurd, and I decided to change the topic to something I had on my mind since earlier.
“But noted,” I said, then instantly spoke on.
“You appeared to have some difficulties with your magic during the fight.”
A displeased snarl blared from behind. “I didn’t have any difficulties.”
“Then what was the problem? I’ve never seen you struggle to build your sword before.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me, Dion. If it concerns your magic, it’s also in my best interest to know what the issue is, given that I’m donating my Potential, which should make things easier for you, not harder.”
“Drop it, Jama.”
“I don’t want to drop it,” I said, my stubborn streak surfacing violently. “But as an alternative, you could just tell me why you call me Jama.”
“Just because that trick worked once doesn’t mean it’ll work again.”
It was so frustrating. Dion and I were clashing all the time, and it was hard to say who was the more stubborn of the two of us. I was still learning when to pick my battles and when not to, and this was one of those times I had to try. “Please. Tell me what was wrong.”
“There was nothing wrong, Nayana. It’s just a lot harder to use different facets of my power at the same time, and some things consume more energy than others.
Conjuring durable, usable objects is more exhausting than, for example, creating a patch of darkness because I have to concentrate on the shape of the object all the time on top of wielding other magic.
It’s easier when I cast it on myself, but I’m sure conjuring for you will become second nature soon as well.
I’m basically adapting to a completely new fighting style. ”
“So, what strained you was creating the armor for me?”
“In a way, yes.”
“So you want to tell me you took Potential from me to become more powerful in the fight, but wasted all of it—plus some of your own—on my protection? Meaning, you were less powerful than you would have been without me? Did I get that right?”
“The armor is the reason you live,” Dion growled through his gritted teeth. “So it was worth it.”
He didn’t deny it, which was as good as a confession in his language.
Sighing, I tried to turn toward him, but my back hurt like crazy when I twisted, so I gave it up.
Keeping my eyes strictly on the path, I deepened my voice to sound as serious as possible.
“Dion, maybe we should think about whether the Rite could be worth considering.”
I was met with silence. With each passing moment my impatience grew. When the quietness threatened to suffocate me, and my waning patience turned into the beginnings of anger—because Dion, as usual, wanted to dodge a serious talk—I pushed once more.
“Dion. You promised me a conversation about this.”
“And we’ll have it. But not on a horse, not like this. I’m searching for a place to stop for a while, so be a little patient.”