Warrior of the Wild(20)

A short laugh escapes his lips. “Not usually, but when it’s one against twelve…”

“What are you even doing out here?”

“I live out here. The wild has been my home for a year.”

“A year!” I exclaim. So that means … “You were exiled after last year’s trial.”

For some reason, he grins at me. “And you must be this year’s failure.”

I wince and withdraw my hand now that Soren’s back is mostly healed. I place my focus on returning the lid to the canister. Three-fourths of the salve is now gone. I didn’t regret helping him until his last comment, however.

“Sorry,” he says quickly. “Too soon. I’m an idiot.”

“Almost a dead idiot.” I rise and wipe my hands off on my pants.

Soren tries to get his hands underneath himself to push onto his feet. He rises maybe an inch before falling back down.

“Do you think you could help me stand?” he asks.

“Roll onto your back.”

He grimaces.

“Your skin has healed over,” I say.

“What? How? I thought you gave me something to numb the pain.”

I tell him about Irrenia’s experiments with ziken blood. When I finish, he dares to roll onto his back.

“She sounds amazing,” he says.

I swallow a lump in my throat. “She is.” I hold down my hand to him, and he takes it. Once on his feet, I let go, but he sways to one side. I throw Soren’s arm over my shoulder to ground him.

“Side effect of your magical cream?” he asks.

“I don’t think so. You lost some blood. It’s made you light-headed, and you’re likely exhausted from your ordeal.”

“And you’re not?”

Truth be told, I feel ready to sleep for a hundred years, but having someone else to take care of is giving me the strength to go on. I answer with a shrug.

“This way,” Soren says. “I have shelter.”

We walk side by side. I hadn’t realized when he was on the ground, but he’s barely an inch taller than I am. Something tells me it’s never been a problem, however. Any other girl would think him handsome with his bright blue eyes, strong jaw, and long black lashes. But not me. I will never think of a boy that way ever again.

“So, Rasmira,” he says. “Do you have a boy waiting for you back home?”

I drop him.

All the air leaves him as he crashes to the ground. I hadn’t meant to let go of him, but the question was so startling, so painful, and Torrin’s face worked its way to the front of my mind.

“Ow,” Soren moans.

I reach down to help him back up, shaking brown eyes from my thoughts. “Sorry. That was an accident.”

He clings to me with more strength this time, as though he doesn’t trust me to hold on to him. “What, did you trip?”

“Something like that.” It’s such a bland response to get around telling a lie. He probably sees right through, and I expect him to call me out on it.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Soren says instead.

This time, my tone turns harsh. “No, I didn’t.”

He may be injured, but at least he’s not stupid. Soren takes that for the dismissal it is, and only points if I start going in the wrong direction.

“Should have kept better track of the days,” he says as we veer around a large boulder a few minutes later.

“Why’s that?”

“The Payment can’t have been long ago if you’re here. Peruxolo would have traveled through with a cart heaped with meat. The ziken are following his trail. That must be why there are so many out and about. I shouldn’t have come anywhere near here.”

And I’ve been following the same trail. No wonder one of them found me early this morning.

“A whole year,” I say, thinking of Soren’s earlier comment. “So it’s possible to survive in the wild. How have you not gone mad being out on your own for so long?”

“I haven’t been alone. We’ve arrived.”

We duck some thick branches and stop in front of—

Another tree.

Only this one has a house built into its branches. It’s small, perhaps the size of my bedroom back home, and it’s made out of—

“Is that wood?”

Soren’s eyelids flutter. Must be taking him some effort to keep them open. “Our best discovery out in the wild. There are trees out here that stay strong long after they’re cut.”

His eyes close, and suddenly he’s all deadweight.

My back slams against the base of the large tree supporting Soren’s home. I try to lower him as gently as I can the rest of the way to the ground.

He plops against the rocks, and his eyes suddenly shoot back open.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

“So … tired,” he says.

I take in the tree. The branches near the base look sturdy, and they’re spaced evenly apart to make for easy handholds. But there’s no way I’m getting Soren up there on my own.

“Hello?” I venture, raising my voice. Soren said he didn’t live alone. “Anybody up there?”

Silence.

“Soren’s in bad shape, so if you’re up there, I could use some help.”