Chapter 16
Ena and I rose early the next morning, so Askel could train us before we started our journey.
But even when Ena shook me awake before sunrise, the sound of the forest a gentle hum, Otho’s side of the bedroll was already cold.
I was beginning to understand what caused the dark circles beneath his eyes.
Askel guided Ena and I through a series of stretches first, followed by some basic exercises designed to improve our stamina.
One of the core strengthening exercises required us to balance, something which appeared easy when Askel did it, but soon, sweat was pouring off of me.
My mind flashed back to my days as a soldier, but as much as I missed the routine of living on the frontlines, I never wanted to go back.
We ended the warm-up with a jog, which ended far enough away from the camp that we wouldn’t wake the others with the second half of training. Already sweating and tired, we stood side by side in front of Askel, waiting for directions even though I was ready to crawl back into my bedroll.
“Now, I know what powers Runa has, but Ena, what have you read?” Askel asked as he paced back and forth in front of us, his hands clasped behind his back.
Her gaze flashed to me, waiting for the dip of my chin to answer. “I have the power of persuasion, but that’s all.”
I brought my fist to my lips and cleared my throat.
“I also have the power of persuasion now and . . .” I hesitated, knowing that once Askel knew, it would get back to Otho.
But I was tired of hiding my poison potion every morning.
If Otho found out, I would deal with it.
“And I can read minds but”—Askel’s eyes widened—“I can’t control it, at all.
I’m taking a small dose of poison to dampen my powers and I keep them behind a mental block, but I’m afraid I may not be as apt at magic training as I was before. ”
His Adam’s apple bobbed and I could feel his jealousy. “The two new books . . .”
I’d forgotten how badly Askel wanted powers of his own, my shame bubbling up as I admitted what I’d done. “I ruined the persuasion book—I had to, otherwise Leif would have used it against me. The mind-reading book is still in Malheim, I assume.” I pictured the room I’d lived in, grimacing.
Askel’s mood deflated instantly, but he didn’t appear angry. “I understand.” Sorrow rolled off him, and I knew he said that to placate me.
“Let’s start with basic fighting stances. You remember those, right, Runa?”
I nodded, stepping a foot back as he taught me, distributing my weight evenly. He directed Ena into a similar position. It was hard to hide my giggle as his fingers wrapped around her calf to guide her leg, causing Ena to blush.
“Now, we always train magic for far-off enemies, as when they are nearby, hand-to-hand, or weapon, combat is usually more efficient. Unfortunately, Ena, it will be hard for me to train you to use your persuasion but—”
“Oh really?” Ena batted her eyelashes at Askel, and I smirked. “Because I think my persuasion is working just fine.”
Like a puppet, Askel bobbed his head up and down. “I agree.”
Ena and I both giggled, waiting for him to snap out of it.
“I—Wait a moment.” He narrowed his eyes, but I could feel there was no anger behind his words. “Okay, you won that one.”
That was all it took for both Ena and I to break out into peals of laughter.
“Focus, you two.” He snapped his fingers. “Let’s work on how to acquire a weapon if you aren’t currently holding one.” He turned to me first. “Let’s see how your metal calling does on the dose you’re taking.”
I stepped back, centering myself before lifting my hand to call the knife in his belt to me. It had been a while since I’d used this power, and I often forgot I had it.
The knife vibrated but didn’t lift from the holster.
I huffed and tried again. The poison was stopping me from successfully calling the knife to my grip, though.
I was so busy trying to focus on my task, I didn’t realize Ena’s hand was on the handle and lifting it from the sheath until it was flying across the room and into my hand.
“What the . . .” Askel’s mouth was in an ‘o’ shape.
Ena snorted. “I was using my persuasion to grab it and apparently that was exactly the boost Runa needed to call the knife to her.”
Askel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Okay, Ena, as much as I love that you can use your power, from now on, no persuasion during training, okay? You obviously already know how to use it.”
“Fine,” Ena agreed, but I caught the wink she threw my way.
Training was going to be fun.
We returned to camp just as the sun’s pink rays peeked over the mountain. Since we’d crested the peak, the sun rose later, but it would remain in the sky much longer for the day ahead.
Askel, Ena, and I jested the entire way back, still cackling at how many times Ena had gotten the best of Askel as we broke through the trees, only to skid to a stop as we took in the frown on Otho’s face. He stood in the center of camp, his arms folded over his broad chest.
“Sorry, Otho,” Askel apologized, trying to use his hands to shush us, but it only made us giggle more. “We were training, and time passed more quickly than anticipated.”
“Hurry and pack so we can start.” Otho motioned to the tent I assumed was Askel’s and I noticed it was the only one still set up.
The rest were already tucked into rucksacks, sitting in a line, the rest of our traveling party nowhere in sight.
If it weren’t for the line of bags leaned up against a large rock, I would have assumed they started without us.
The dark-haired captain rushed into his tent, Ena on his heels. For the first time, I wondered where she had been staying in the camp. “Where is everyone?”
“I sent them hunting for food. There’s a long road ahead.” Otho’s voice was even.
“Would be shorter if we tried my river traveling,” I quipped, but Otho shook his head. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I headed over to help Askel and Ena with the final stages of packing.
Karl arrived back at camp first, a small deer slung over his shoulders. “Managed to snag this deer, I’ll clean it now and we can eat it tonight.”
I knew little about hunting, as I’d always had the privilege of purchasing my meals from the butcher in Ralheim, but I had a feeling that carrying the deer all day, even cleaned, would be no easy task.
“I can carry his pack instead,” I offered, only for Otho’s frown to deepen. Before he could argue, I held up my finger. “Remember, when you met me, I was joining the military. I can handle carrying a pack for a day.”
Otho shook his head. “May I remind you that you didn’t actually join the military that day. Someone said you were too weak.”
I couldn’t stop the way my lips flicked up at the ends. “I still joined eventually, though—in the end. Someone thought I would make a decent spy,” I retorted, mimicking him.
Otho sighed and I knew the conversation was over, so I walked over to Karl to see what I needed to carry.
Nel, Jase, and Ryle returned together, the first two empty-handed while Ryle held a string of fish. “They won’t last long, but we can eat them tonight while Karl works on the deer.”
The ever-broody general nodded his affirmation, and we were off. Ena was the only one without a pack, but I knew she would spend her day searching for other edible items.
And belladonna for me.
For all my bragging, it didn’t take long for me to fall behind, the weight of the backpack I wore making me nervous as I stepped down the steep incline.
There was a path down the mountain, telling me we weren’t the first to come this way.
But it wasn’t a popular path either, with various plants starting to intrude on the worn-down dirt.
Even though we walked in a switchback pattern, I still felt we were walking too fast for the path, and my steps grew increasingly uncertain as my boots slid on the rocks from time to time.
The straps dug into my shoulders, and I feared that if I stood up straight, I would fall backward.
I had no idea what Karl kept in his pack, but it was heavy.
Otho, of course, hung back as well, looking over his shoulder every so often to ensure I was still there, the frown on his lips becoming a permanent feature.
At one interchange, when he passed directly below me, he paused. “I can help you, if you want.”
I sighed, my gaze catching on the rest of the group that was at least three switchbacks ahead of us.
“I won’t tell them, and I’ll hand you back the bag before we draw close so you can keep your pride.” I saw his words for what they were, a peace offering.
I didn’t answer, choosing instead to continue walking until I was directly in front of him. “You would do that?” I whispered.
“Of course, Runa.” He pinched his eyes shut and ran a hand through his hair. “I know I haven’t been my usual self lately, and I’m sorry. There’s just . . . a lot changing . . .” I thought he was insinuating between us, as I felt it too, but he quickly added, “In Heimland, I mean.”
I raised my eyebrows, but shifted the pack from my back nonetheless, allowing Otho to load it onto his front. “I can take it back in a while,” I offered, chewing on my lip.
“No need.” He turned and began to walk again.
I thought we were about to ignore what he’d insinuated, but he surprised me when he spoke again.
“I really am sorry, Runa, for everything. I should never have let Leif take you that day. And I should have come for you right away. You were correct—I put it off because it was easier for me. I never stopped to think that it would be harder for you. And now that I have thought about it, I feel terrible. Then I made things worse when I declined your request for space and came for you immediately instead of giving you some time for yourself. I’m so sorry. ”
My heart melted at his words—at the apology I’d been waiting for all this time. But there was something else laced underneath. “I feel selfish now,” I admitted. “It was petty of me to hold on to my anger like that.”
Otho stopped, turning to face me. It was awkward, with both a backpack on his pack and on his front, but he reached for my cheek, brushing his thumb down the side.
“You deserve to be selfish, Runa. You’ve spent your whole life doing things for others, and I forgot that it extended to me.
I told you I would come for you and . . .
there’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have waited so long. ”
I itched to be closer to him and wished desperately that we were somewhere other than a mountain with a pack between us. “I accept your apology. I want to hug you but . . .”
“Can I kiss you instead?”
Heat bloomed on my cheeks, and I nodded my consent.
He leaned in, the backpack pressing into my chest as his lips met mine, sending a shock through my body. My magic was immediately happy, and I could feel it coming to life beneath my skin as our lips danced, despite the poison.
Otho kissed me like a man starving, his lips devouring mine. Eventually, desperate for air and afraid I would fall backward with the way the backpack was pushing into me, I broke the kiss, my hand coming to rest on his cheek, his dark stubble pushing into my palm.
This was the Otho I knew and loved.
“I missed you,” I whispered as we both panted.
“I missed you too,” he breathed. “And I will grovel for the rest of my life for your forgiveness over not rescuing you sooner.”
My lips broke into a half-smile.
“I’m serious,” he argued. “Don’t forgive me because you feel selfish, Runa. I want you to be mad at me as long as you want—until you feel I’ve earned my forgiveness.”
I shook my head. “You’re already forgiven, Otho. You know—”
“Hey, if you two are done kissing up there, we want to stop for lunch!”
My cheeks heated a second time at the shout from below. The voice was undoubtedly Karl, who could now see that I wasn’t carrying his backpack as promised.
Otho smiled one of his rare smiles, which showed off his white teeth, chuckling as he turned forward. “Guess this means I get to carry your backpack the whole way.”
I forced a laugh, mad at myself because I didn’t have a chance to finish my conversation with Otho.
Because I had secrets I needed to confess.
That night, as we prepared for bed, I sat along the tree line after rinsing my face in the cool creek, debating exactly how I would tell Otho I was consuming poison, when a shout drew my attention.
I turned to the commotion, watching as Askel, Karl, and Otho tucked their heads together above the stone Karl had been using to divide and press the deer meat.
The conversation was quick, then the men spread out, peering in tents, around trees, and I watched as Otho headed back toward the river I’d just come from.
My eyes connected with Ena, who had been sitting by the fire as Askel approached me.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, picking at my fingernails nervously at the wave of concern that flowed out of Askel.
“It’s Ryle,” he panted. “He’s gone.”