Chapter 25
Wide pastures fall behind us as the afternoon brings scattered trees and trodden pathways through the grassy knolls.
We’re somewhere outside of Moicriach, the village where we discovered that Osheen had betrayed us all.
My heart pounds as we ride on. I focus as best as I can on the path ahead, not on the climb of our horses over these hills or the painful reminder of the fallout to end all fallouts with my former best friend.
We travel past patches of grass that look almost as if the earth has been scorched. Past withered flowers and browning bushes. Briefly, we pause at a river to replenish our resources and wash up before we continue onward until we’re just outside of a small village when night falls.
We find a place where the trees are slightly more condensed—just enough to offer us some coverage.
My whole body is already sore, and my head aches.
Hopefully it’s something that rest can help remediate.
As we dismount and everyone begins to set up their bedrolls, I turn to Tiernan as he lights a mage lantern and hangs it off Ghendor’s pommel. “Are you alright?” he gestures.
Everything hurts—especially my back—but I don’t want to worry him. “Yes. Just tired,” I sign.
He begins to unstrap our packs from Ghendor while his gaze is still locked on me. There’s that knowing look in his eyes I’ve come to recognize too well. “How’s your back?” he asks.
I squint at him. “That’s unfair.”
He grins as he slings the pack over his shoulder and grabs the lantern.
The movement of shadows around us reminds me, quite painfully, that we’re not alone.
I’ve gotten far too used to the moments of quiet and privacy back in the Verge.
Oh, how I miss those moments already, and oh, how I miss Taig. I hope he’s doing well—I’m sure he is.
We roll out our sleep sacks beside Chiyo’s, and Sloan lays theirs out on our other side. We exchange a few brief pleasantries before Sloan mentions they’re going to take the first watch with Ava.
“How are you feeling?” Chiyo signs to me, her words hard to see in the dim lantern light.
“So far so good,” I reply. “You?”
“Same. I hope we can get some rest out here.”
I squint at her hands and then nod, smiling.
“Good night, Durvla.”
“Good night.”
I watch as she rolls onto her side, facing away from me. Immediately, I feel the familiar presence of Tiernan’s mind reaching out to mine. “I can take care of that for you, if you’d like,” he says.
I turn back to him, a question in my expression.
“Your back.” He holds up his hands, the faintest glow on his fingertips. “Am I using this as an excuse to get my hands on you? Maybe.”
I nearly choke on my stifled laughter as my cheeks and stomach fill with heat.
I know I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but this man so often makes me feel like I could lose control.
It’s not a sensation I’m used to. Especially after years of practiced restraint and concealment.
I have a habit of suppressing what I feel and how I truly want to react to a situation.
Tiernan’s brows are raised, a quizzical look on his face. “Gods, woman, you really need to give your mind a rest sometimes.”
My cheeks twitch as I try to resist smiling, but I lose the battle.
“Just a massage. If you’d be so kind as to lie down on your front.”
I glance around at the others. “Wouldn’t that be awkward?”
“What on earth do you think I have in mind?”
I nearly laugh again, but I can’t bring myself to be massaged in front of everyone.
Tiernan huffs a sigh and grabs a lantern. “Let’s get away from prying eyes then,” he motions with his free hand.
My confusion leaves me speechless as he helps me to my feet and leads me away from the group.
He holds the lantern out in front of him, his fingers laced with mine as we maneuver through the trees until we get a very small distance away, behind some thick bushes.
I turn to him with a lifted brow. “Alright,” Tiernan signs one-handed, holding up the lantern.
He hooks it over a low-hanging branch. “Hold on to that tree.”
“What?” I glance at the thick trunk of the tree.
He grins. “You truly make it difficult for a man to give a simple healing session.”
I turn and press my hands against the rough bark. Tiernan steps closer behind me and immediately, my heart hammers … from anticipation?
“I haven’t even touched you yet,” Tiernan says into my mind, amusement in his inner voice. I’m about to retort when he lifts the hem of my tunic and cool air kisses my skin. Goose bumps rise along my flesh until his hands warm me. His fingers encircle my waist, thumbs pressing into my lower back.
There’s the slightest twinge of my sore muscles before more warmth flows into them, calming the ache and dragging out some sound that vibrates in my chest. I close my eyes and relax, my forearms now against the tree trunk, my forehead against my arms.
“Didn’t I tell you I was very skilled with my hands?” Tiernan asks.
I chuckle. “Yes, ironically it was also while you healed me last time. After you forced me to throw daggers and caused me to cut my hand in the first place.”
His groan fills my headspace and causes my stomach to clench pleasantly. “You sure know how to ruin a moment,” he says with amusement.
“Oh, were you trying to create a moment?” I glance over my shoulder at him, smirking.
Simultaneously, we shift—Tiernan lifts his hands and I turn, pressing my back against the tree. He steps close enough for us to share a breath, his nose brushing mine. “How’s your back?”
My pulse quickens. “As if you don’t already know the answer.”
His eyes crinkle. “I do. I was just stalling.”
“Stalling for what?”
He gently tips my chin up so our lips meet. His hands cradle my face, and I’m hyperaware of every place where his body meets mine. Our lips part, but our foreheads linger against each other. Overwhelming longing weakens my knees, stealing my breath.
“Sorry,” Tiernan says. “Projecting again. If we keep going like this, I may never want to stop.” As I’m about to protest, he adds, “And we really ought to take advantage of this time to have a solid rest before we’re back to traveling.”
I give a dramatic sigh, and he lifts his head, chuckling as he caresses my face. I drop the theatrics to admire the light in his eyes. Gone is that haunted look he’s had lately. Right now, there’s only admiration and joviality, and I wish it would last forever.
“Durvla, the way you’re looking at me—” He steps back.
“How am I looking at you?” I sign.
The cheer is ghosted over by something I can’t quite pinpoint. “Like I’m worthy of such admiration.”
“What do you—”
He takes my hand, lacing our fingers together and effectively quieting me.
“Bed,” he enunciates without signing. As much as I want to press him further—as much as I wouldn’t mind remaining here longer, lost in his kisses—I let him lead me back to my bedroll.
As soon as my body hits the material, I drift off into a dreamless sleep.
An overwhelming chill yanks me from my slumber.
I sit up, my heart racing, my head throbbing, and glance over at Tiernan.
The faintest stream of sunlight filters through the trees and onto Tiernan’s body.
His legs are tangled in his bedroll, pain and fear twisting his features as his head whips back and forth.
I scamper over on my knees and palm his face.
An image leaps into my mind—a bloodied dagger and a vicious grin—bringing along a searing pain that cuts down my neck to my collarbone.
My chest collapses in on itself, my heart squeezing.
I pull my hand away from Tiernan to clutch my own throat.
He continues to thrash, but I clasp my hands together to keep from reaching out again. “Tiernan, wake up!” I shout in my mind, hoping he’ll hear me. When that doesn’t work, I give his shoulders a firm shake.
His chest heaves, wide eyes frantic as he jolts from his sleep and grapples for the swords beside his sleep sack. I fall on my behind, my hands out and ready to unleash a shield should I have to, but recognition quickly fills his eyes.
“It’s alright,” I say, hopefully soft enough that it doesn’t wake everyone. “It was just a nightmare.”
Sweat coats his skin, plastering his hair to his forehead. His throat bobs as he swallows, and slowly he realizes there’s no real danger here. He slides his fingers along his scar then over his forehead, pushing his hair from his face.
After some hesitation, I finally sign, “Do you want to talk about it?”
He rolls his shoulders and untangles his legs from the bedroll before replying with a curt, “No, I’m fine.”
Before long, we all set off again. Tiernan doesn’t mention the nightmare, and I know better than to bring it up.
We remain amongst the trees outside the main route of the nearby village for as long as we can. Sunlight kisses my skin every now and then as we walk through open areas in the canopy. The leaves aren’t as full as they should be after summer solstice, the warmth of the sun holding very little power.
Chiyo and Ava walk alongside each other, seemingly engaged in a pleasant conversation. Isobel is chatty with everyone now that we’re temporarily off horseback, giving our steeds a bit of a reprieve.
I fight to keep my mind from mourning what I’ve left behind or worrying about the uncertainty of where we’re going.
Instead, I focus on the sweet honey scent of the woodbine that twines up the sides of the trees.
The vines are a lighter green, the ordinarily brick-red flowers limp and muted in color.
Tall stems of fairy thimbles fill the spaces between the trees, their fuchsia flowers also less vibrant than usual.
We pause every now and then, watering the horses and taking a moment to stretch our limbs and munch on blackberries from the brambles around us. We mount our horses again to get a bit farther before settling down for the night.