Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(36)

Frustration bubbled up in me, mingling with the bitter twist of other emotions. “I just wish—” I stopped. He didn’t care.

“What?” His voice rang out impatiently, almost like he resented asking me.

“I wish I had appreciated what I had,” I snapped.

The gift of all those years with Sivo and Perla, when I had lived relatively safely, when I had been surrounded by love, brought fresh tears to my eyes.

“Life is full of regrets. They’ll cripple you if you let them.”

I laughed hoarsely. “It’s that easy for you? You can simply will all your regrets away?”

As usual, he didn’t reply.

“Tell me something, Fowler,” I added. “Are you not crippled?” Wasn’t being numb, an empty shell, a punishment in itself?

“We aren’t talking about me.”

“No. We never do that.”

Sniffing, I blinked against the sudden sting in my eyes, taking another bite of bread and chewing faster, as if that would somehow stave off the regrets.

So far my adventures had revealed only the ugliness of life.

Except that moment with Fowler.

The brief press of his face to mine when I had thought he might kiss me had been unexpected and wonderful. Even if he didn’t know why he had done it, he had. I had that.

“It’s the last of Perla’s bread,” he said, his tone clearly suggesting I slow down stuffing my face.

Cheeks burning, I covered my mouth with my fingers and slowed my chewing, trying to savor this last small bit of Perla.

He shifted, his boot scuffing against the ground. I inhaled, catching a whiff of his spicy scent. I’d never smelled anything like him before and I didn’t think it was due to my lack of exposure to others. It was inherently him.

I exhaled through my nose, enjoying the flavor of the dark, hearty bread on my tongue. “I’m going to miss it,” I murmured, turning the bread over in my fingers. “I could never make bread quite like her. Even when we reach Allu, I doubt I shall be able to replicate it.”

I waited, hoping he would say something. A few words about the better future that waited me in Allu. But nothing. Silence. He offered nothing that revealed he even thought I would reach Allu with him, which only seemed to confirm my suspicion that he thought I wasn’t going to make it there.

I tore a small bite with my teeth and chewed slowly, reaching for my flask and washing the mouthful down with some water.

He expelled a breath that wasn’t quite a gasp but close.

“What? What is it?” I jerked, immediately thinking that some bat-crazed individual had found us.

“Firebugs.”

I straightened, alarmed. “Firebugs? What are those?” I was accustomed to bugs, but that didn’t mean I liked them. The world was teeming with them. They owned the night right alongside the dwellers.

He hesitated. “Have you never heard of firebugs before?”

I shook my head, trying not to feel so unworldly even if I was.

“When I was a boy we used to trap them in jars. They’re small flying bugs and their bodies light up in the dark.”

“They’re here now?” I asked, turning my face left and right nervously. “Will dwellers see them and be attracted to the light?”

“They never bother with them. They’re not a food source, so they ignore them.”

I relaxed somewhat, but still searched for evidence of these creatures that lit up like fire.

Almost in response, I felt the brush of something soft against my cheek.

“Oh,” I started, swatting at it, accustomed to swatting away insects.

Either the same firebug or another one skimmed my nose and I swallowed back a startled yelp, nearly toppling over. I sensed them swarming all around me.

“No, it’s fine.” He scooted closer, his bigger body dragging across the dirt and grass to sit beside me, so close his arm brushed my shoulder, so close I immediately felt his warmth radiating toward me.

His presence beside me felt so solid and larger-than-life. I knew from memory that muscle and sinew roped tightly beneath his skin. There was not an ounce of fat to him anywhere. How could there be? Out here, living like this, there wasn’t excess to be had.

He took my hands and lowered them from my face. “Don’t,” he murmured.

I trembled slightly, hating feeling all the tiny bugs around me.

“They won’t hurt you,” he added, pushing my hands down into my lap. He kept one hand over mine. That single hand was large enough to wrap around both of mine. His hands weren’t as brawny as Sivo’s, but his fingers were long and tapering, blunt tipped, the nails shorn to the quick.

Suddenly I wasn’t certain what made me more nervous: his touching or a horde of bugs flying around me.

“They’re harmless,” he assured me. “And beautiful.”

He uttered this last word on a breath, so close to my face I could almost imagine he was talking about me and not the firebugs.

Heat crawled up my neck, sweeping over my face and ears. “Easy for you to say. I can’t see them.”

He said nothing for a long moment and I tried not to shudder when I felt the tiny bodies brush my face again.

“They’re like blinking sparks of yellow light all around us . . . around you. It’s magical.”