Chapter 16 #2
We’ve lost four more, and there isn’t a single one of us who walks away unscathed.
The forest sounds come back, wary at first, then insistent, as if they’re determined to carry word of our half-victory across the whole of the island by morning.
Some of our group take to the trees. Those too injured to climb fold their tents and use them as a cushion while they doze, propped up against the trunks.
Rune and I stay below, quietly resting in shifts.
Tavi sits next to Elio. She doesn’t rest at all.
When the sun rises, Rune sends a runner to return to camp to give them the news and gather a group to retrieve the dead. Their way should be easier with the path we’ve cleared.
We walk on, weary and gore-spattered. The air heats as the sun rises high overhead. Unlike yesterday, there’s no acrid, lung-rending scent paired with the humidity, and the faint sound of running water ahead offers an altogether more pleasant promise.
I let myself look down and grimace; the cream of Soraya’s shirt is stained with a dried, slug-mucous green. “I’d kill for a bath.”
“I’d kill for you to have a bath too.” Rune keeps his face suspiciously deadpan, and heat flares in my cheeks, the image of water running down his bare chest and toned stomach remarkably persistent in my mind’s eye.
He hadn’t chained me again, instead slipping the manacles off his wrist and into his pack in the early hours of the morning.
Something had shifted between us, but I couldn’t say what, exactly.
I still don’t trust him. Still expect the crew’s wrath upon our return.
None will take the deaths lightly, yet, here he is, forging forwards, as if it were his future on the line.
He glances over, like he expected more than my silence. “For you to wash the stink off, of course.” His tone is an invitation all its own. I have to wonder if he realises how it betrays him. Play with me. It says. Distract me. Fight me, if nothing else. Please.
I straighten, falling easily into our back-and-forth despite the ache in my limbs and the way sweat burns the gashes on my thigh. “Why would I, if it’s working so well to keep you away?”
He sighs, stretching his arms up high before lacing his fingers behind his head. “Actually,” he says, peering down at me as we walk, “they say monster blood is an aphrodisiac.”
The breath wooshes out of him as my elbow connects with his gut. His long arms swipe for me but I bound into a run, grinning as his long strides follow. A thrill chases up my spine alongside the memory of our last race, powering my legs ever faster.
The crew’s shouts of surprise follow us, and so does Tavi’s command for them to stand down.
My wood nymph instincts bleed in, my feet sure where to land to stay near-silent, but Rune snaps branches and catches the underbrush as he goes, making both a path for the others to follow and enough noise for me to know he’s struggling to gain any ground.
The inlet appears as if from nowhere, the forest ending only an arm’s length from a wide stream of softly rippling water.
I have to loop my arm around a tree to avoid falling in, but I turn towards the crashing behind me to find Rune barreling forwards, a feral grin stretching from one ear to the other.
“Rune!” I’m not proud that the words are a squeal. “Don’t—”
He doesn’t even try to stop, just scoops me up with both arms and lets his momentum carry us in.
We’re airborne for a tense moment, just enough time to suck in a breath before the water crashes over us.
It’s warmer than I expected, but deeper too, and I flail, gripping my fingers into his shirt so he doesn’t leave me stranded.
He keeps one arm hooked around my waist, pulling us back to air and sunlight.
Once we’ve surfaced, I suck in a breath and push away, slapping a splash of water his way for good measure.
“Ass,” I hiss, but the smile on my face probably dulls the insult.
“We all have our roles,” he says a moment before a wave of water crests over my face, forcing itself up my nose, and even while sputtering I can’t help but notice the gorgeous, trailing blue fin that slips back under the water as he laughs.
He’s shifted—his teeth sharper, the angles of his face a touch sharper.
His ears are peculiar too—bright-blue, fin-like.
I freeze when he reaches towards me, shocked by the shimmering blue scales on his forearms and even more so by the flesh-ripping claws that are cautious as he wipes his thumb over my temple and cheek.
“I don’t think any part of you isn’t covered in blood,” he murmurs by way of explanation, his eyes locked on mine, his touch lingering long enough for me to wonder if he can hear the way it makes my heart speed in my chest.
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” The words are a reluctant whisper, sticking tight in my throat.
Some of the familiar grief sneaks through with them.
I’m not sure there’s any point in pretending I want to push him away now but, like when he spoke earlier, the words are rife with meaning that goes unsaid.