Chapter 13 #2
She brushed me off, blushing as she rose to pluck more berries. “You better get out of my mind before you hear things you’d rather not.”
She was right. And as she picked berries, I tried to ignore the thoughts drifting from her direction. It was harder than I anticipated, though. And even as I envisioned myself fixing the mental barrier in my mind, I still heard her thoughts about a certain part of Derek’s body.
“Please, Ena, I’m trying here,” I begged, pinching the bridge of my nose as I fought to maintain my focus.
She chuckled as she pressed a handful of berries into my palm. “Think of this as a mean form of motivation.”
I grimaced. “Maybe I should take a second dose of the poison.”
Ena was pensive. “I mean, I think that’s a good idea, mostly because a small dose of poison daily will give you immunity regardless, and you’ll build a tolerance to it, so you’ll likely need more soon—to keep the magic under control.
But I’m also not sure what you’re making it with, and if it’s available here. ”
I shrugged, pulling another one of the vials from between my breasts, uncorking it and tossing it back.
“I made this with belladonna, which I haven’t seen yet.
But I can make similar potions with hemlock if we find some of that.
This one is watered down with moonflower, which promotes mental clarity, but I won’t worry about that anymore.
I probably need it to be stronger anyway.
I can make it more effective when I have a proper workspace. ”
Her eyes brightened. “How do you know so much about plants?”
I shrugged, deciding we’d waited long enough to eat the second helping of berries in our hands. “I’ve always been passionate about chemistry and what plants can be used for potions. I needed something to do on the days I couldn’t venture outside.”
She ate her berries one by one, her dark eyes watching me. “Have you ever thought of becoming a teacher at the university?”
The mention of the university in Ralheim had a frown stealing over my features. “No.”
“Sorry,” she apologized sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“It’s not that,” I promised her. “It’s just .
. . I did attend university, but for engineering and .
. . I miss my brother, that’s all.” I left out the part where, even if I’d stayed, we would have had to choose one job to work together and Milo would never choose to be a teacher, which reminded me of something Ena had mentioned the night before.
“But enough about me. Are we anywhere close to where your house was?”
Her gaze focused on her berries as she choked out the words, “There was a fire—on the day they found us.”
Of course there was.
Hansen hadn’t been known for his kindness.
I glanced away, observing as a bird landed on one of the branches above our heads. It was a small bird—red, with black lines on its wings. “They really destroyed Heimland. Adis and Hansen, I mean.”
“They did,” she affirmed. “The king has to know. There’s . . . there’s no one left. I question every day how Heimland will survive with fewer and fewer children surviving every generation and with all of the first-born males being sent to war.”
In the center of Ralheim, I’d never felt alone, but that was before I’d journeyed the rest of the corner of the continent.
Before I realized there was a secret town in the forest that wasn’t on the map, and land available everywhere.
Yet, neither Adis nor Hansen were happy sharing the rule with the other.
It had always been winner takes all.
They’d forgotten that, in war, there was no winner.
“Do you even think the king will listen to us?” I polished off the last of my share of the berries, standing and brushing myself off. Sleeping against a tree wasn’t comfortable, and standing felt nice. I pressed my hands against my lower back, bending toward the sky to stretch.
“He has to.” Ena stood too, her gaze squinting at something in the sky I couldn’t see. “Otherwise, Heimland will be useless to him soon. There won’t be anyone to produce the few products Shianp needs.”
Her words niggled something in my mind, but I couldn’t coax the thought to fully formulate. “What products do they rely on us for?”
Ena tossed the waterskin over her shoulder, arranging the sword so it hung at her side.
“Milled flour is the main export, though we do have some fruit-bearing plants that don’t grow up North.
” She spun in a slow circle, her eyes on the sky as she inhaled deeply.
“Come, there’s a river this way, then we will continue north. ”
I followed her in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. The second dose of poison must’ve kicked in, though, because my magic was once again dull—Ena’s thoughts her own, despite the fact I hadn’t finished fixing my mental wall.
The further we walked from Malheim, the rougher the terrain became.
Soon, we were scaling hills, which made the huge tree stump from the day before appear small.
The trees grew thicker, pilling more and more foilage on the forest floor until our feet sunk with each step.
Ena grew tired of carrying the water and the sword, pausing around midday to hold it in my direction. “We need to trade off carrying this.”
I nodded my agreement, my hands clenching my upper arms under my cloak. “It’s much colder than I anticipated.”
Ena frowned, and I could feel her anxiety. “It’s almost the warm season; it shouldn’t be like this. Not this cold anyway . . .”
I stopped in my tracks, trying to remember what little I’d been taught about the Heimland’s mountains. “How are we going to survive through the night if it’s this cold during the daylight?”
She gnawed on her bottom lip, brushing away the hair plastered to her face to the side. “I’m working on that now. Let’s focus on getting as far as possible. It will be better after we summit and start down the other side.”
I arched my eyebrow but swallowed my retort. We wouldn’t summit anytime soon.
Unfortunately, our pace slowed tremendously after that, both of us running low on energy, considering we only had a handful of berries for breakfast. As the sun dipped below the elevated horizon, I knew we needed to stop.
“We need to make a fire,” I told her, my teeth chattering as I surveyed the area around us.
We’d stopped on one of the many slopes we’d spent that day climbing, the trees creating a canopy that blocked the sun.
The area we were on was only a little flatter than the areas around it, creating a small overhang, but one wrong move and we’d be sliding down the hill.
“We are too exposed here,” she countered, drawing her cloak closer around her, her lips cracked. Our water skin was running low, and we hadn’t seen a river since that morning.
I was starting to think we’d made the wrong choice, venturing into the woods. But it was too late to go back now. “Any chance there’s an abandoned cabin or anything nearby?” I wanted to ensure we exhausted all of our options before I truly panicked.
Her features twisted. “I know of one, but we have to crest this hill first and . . .” She leaned back, my nerves on edge as she tried to see where it ended. “I don’t think we will make it up there tonight. This is much steeper than I remembered.”
I nodded. If we couldn’t go forward, it was time to act fast to gather everything we needed to last the night.
I stomped on the dirt overhang we stood on, ensuring it was firm and could bear weight.
My boot prints appeared in the dirt, and I didn’t notice any vibrations.
“Let’s see if we can get a fire going—bring small firewood.
Grab anything you find that might be edible on your way. ”
She glanced around. “We should stay together, actually. While I can get back here on my own, I’m not sure you can.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Come on, let’s hurry.” We moved through the woods on silent feet, struggling to stay upright as we walked perpendicularly to the slope. I slid a few times, Ena catching me each time before I could fall to my inevitable end.
We ended our search with several sticks, a few stones, and more berries that we were reasonably sure were edible. There was no sign of belladonna, but the clinking in my brassiere reminded me I had one more day to worry about that.
If we survived the night.
We returned to the overhang, which was indeed the only flat area we’d seen. We ate berry after berry as I attempted to use the rocks to create a spark on the twigs we’d gathered.
It never caught.
We decided instead to huddle together, sharing both of our cloaks to sleep. Still, the rate at which I drifted into darkness was alarming, my mind flashing back to when we’d learned how one might freeze to death in school.
It was only a breath later that Ena was shaking me awake. “Runa, someone’s here.”
My head snapped up in time to hear the snapping of twigs. Not one, but several. I scoured the incline beneath us, spotting a form a stone’s throw below us. Next to them was another form.
There were two.
“Look,” she hissed, pointing to where two more forms emerged from the brush.
We were surrounded.