Chapter Twenty-Two
Kenyon
“I should do another pass.” I stared over at Carter, who still favored his other side.
“It’s fine.” His tone was distracted, as though his mind were anywhere else than it was.
I came over, using my powers to dig deeper, to see if I’d missed an injury somewhere. I’d done a lot to help the deep gash in his back, had sealed it up, but I could only do so much, especially at once. The body required time to readjust before I could heal it again.
He looked toward me then, eyes sharp, a warning there. Right, just like Carter didn’t like Shear in his head, he didn’t like me poking around in his condition without asking. He didn’t usually react like that, though, which told me even more that something was wrong.
He blinked slowly, then erased the expression he’d worn with a false smile. “Sorry. On edge, I guess. Yun…” He blew out a long breath, then shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. She just seemed off earlier.”
That explained his behavior. It seemed all our problems came back to Yun, as though she had put herself at the center of our galaxy and we just orbited around her. Any change to her threw us all off.
“She’s probably just nervous. We’re used to this sort of thing, but she isn’t.” And it was far more personal to her.
“You’re probably right. I just wish we weren’t in here, where there isn’t anything we can do. Back home, we could have run a bath, could have taken her somewhere to ease her mind. Here though, we don’t have those options.”
“It’s just temporary,” I reminded him. “We’re going to keep going, deal with Corsa, get her unstuck, then get back home.”
He nodded, but I wasn’t sure if he understood what I was saying, if he accepted it. I could still see those wheels turning, see his desire to fix the problem right now.
I’d been around him long enough to tell what he wanted to do. He wanted to leave immediately—probably without even Ingram—and track down Corsa on his own. I understood that desire, since I had it myself, too. I didn’t want that monster breathing anywhere near Yun, either.
Of course, Carter was in a position where he could actually do something about it, unlike me. Even if Corsa stood right before me, I was even more helpless than Yun, unable to do a damn thing.
Which pricked at my pride more than I wanted to admit. It wasn’t easy to admit my own weaknesses, especially when they felt so glaring compared to the rest of my squad.
I kept them alive, sure, but that didn’t mean that I accepted my own helplessness when it came to fighting. It always chafed at me, always felt unfair, even if I tried not to show it.
“Ah, the lovebirds.”
I frowned at Carter’s statement, wondering who the hell he was talking about before Ingram and Shear walked in.
Shear didn’t react, but Ingram smirked and asked, “Jealous?”
My gaze bounced between each of them, wondering exactly what I’d missed.
It took a moment for it to become clear, and it made me question if I really was as dumb as they liked to say. Did that mean Ingram and Shear…?
But what did that mean about Yun? My brain tried to do the gymnastics required to work out this love triangle? Dodecahedron? It was for sure a shape they’d tried to teach me in a geometry lesson that I’d slept through.
“I’m not jealous,” Carter said as he stirred the pot of soup on the stove. “I’m just sad that my favorite reality show of ‘when will the idiots work this out’ is over. It’s been going on for years, you know?”
Ingram lifted his hand, flipping Carter off even if he didn’t seem that annoyed. Shear ignored us all, which at least made things feel normal, as he headed to the table to take a seat.
Yun walked in, and Ingram moved his hand back, running his fingers through his hair as though to hide his little gesture toward Carter. “Hey there, Spark. Feeling better after a shower?”
She nodded, but I had to admit, something about her expression tipped me off, as it had Carter. I understood what he’d meant by her being off, like something weighed on her that she tried desperately to hide.
I glanced toward Shear, who only shrugged. It seemed he was less willing to just go traipsing around in her head than he had been before. I got it, but that didn’t mean I liked it.
I waved Carter off. “I’ll serve the bowls since you cooked. Go sit.”
“Yes, Mother.” He took a seat, then caught Yun’s waist and pulled her into his lap.
She only struggled for a moment before giving in. “Really?”
“There aren’t enough seats.”
“So let Kenyon sit in your lap.”
“He’s too heavy.” Carter set his chin on her shoulder, appearing content, as though even that much contact helped ease his mind.
“I’m not heavy,” I complained as I filled each bowl with the food. Civilians would need to worry about corruption in here, about the risk of eating, but not us. The entire meal hadn’t taken long, as we’d only budgeted around an hour to stop and rest.
Ingram helped bring the bowls over, then we crowded around the small, round table, all bumping elbows if we stretched out too much.
It struck me as strange, how relaxing it could be with them around me. Even here, even with the danger that surrounded us, we were comfortable. It was as though we brought what really mattered with us.
The noise of eating filled the space, with Carter and Yun managing to get the food to their mouths despite sitting together.
“Wish we could let you sleep,” Carter said, voice soft. He probably didn’t want to be yelling right next to Yun’s ear. “But we should get a move on before too long. We’ve got time, but you never know what might happen. Better to get there with extra time than risk cutting it close.”
Yun nodded, but didn’t make eye contact with any of us.
It made my stomach hurt, this feeling that there was something more going on than I couldn’t understand. It was a tension she held herself with, the way she didn’t quite meet our gazes. It all said something was going on that I didn’t know about.
Shear didn’t want to dig around in her head, but maybe we wouldn’t have a choice…
“You should get some guiding first,” she said.
“We’re fine,” Carter assured her, wrapping one arm around her waist as though to anchor her to him. It felt like an attempt to keep this distance from growing. “You don’t need to exert yourself.”
She shook her head. “You’re all here because of me.
The least I can do it make sure to give you regular guiding.
Besides, you said it yourself—you have no idea what’s going to happen, what we’re going to run into.
There’s no reason to risk you using too much power later and needing it when there isn’t time.
Emergency guiding is never the best option. ”
Carter pressed his lips together, the unhappiness clear on his face.
Yun was right, of course, but that didn’t make me feel any better about it.
It still felt like a ploy, like something she was forcing herself to do.
After everything she’d gone through, the last thing I wanted was for her to ever feel as though she were being forced into guiding.
I never wanted her to associate us with what Corsa had done.
The idea alone made the soup threaten to vacate my stomach.
“You don’t look up for it,” Ingram said.
She looked across the table, meeting Ingram’s gaze head-on. “I’m just anxious, okay? About being here, about all of this. The only thing I can do is guide you all, so please, let me do it. Besides, what if…?” She didn’t finish the statement.
She didn’t need to.
The fears that swarmed her spilled out from her expression. What if we don’t make it back? What if this is the last time?
Any of us could have reassured her, but we didn’t. I didn’t want to lie to her, and none of us knew for sure how it would go. I didn’t like the idea of false hope, of offering that up in place of real solutions or help. Yun deserved more than that, after all, especially from us.
This went beyond guiding—this was Yun reaching out, trying to grab onto us when other things drifted away from her, when she felt lost.
And no matter what else happened, I had a feeling we’d always reach right back to her.