Warrior of the Wild(43)

“No.”

“We have a legend in my village about the otti. A bird with a wingspan the length of five men, a razor-sharp beak, and talons that can slice through the thickest armor.”

“You have to kill it?” I ask.

“No, I have to pluck a feather from its skin. But as I said, this is only a legend. The bird could not even exist, which would make it a truly impossible task.”

“What does this have to do with what you fear?” Does Soren have a problem with birds?

“When I was a child, I was afraid of heights. It went away as I grew older, but I don’t think the village elders knew that.”

“If you’ve overcome your fear, then why haven’t you tried to seek out the otti?”

“Because it doesn’t matter if it exists. So long as Iric remains in the wild, so will I. I’m not going home or risking my life when he needs me.”

Soren isn’t the one who will need convincing to complete our quests, then. It’s Iric.

“Would you two kindly take your conversation outside?” Iric mumbles against the blankets. “Some of us have work to do today and would like to get some more rest first!”

Soren dons a shirt and boots before helping me up. He even helps me down the tree single-handedly.

I take care of my morning needs as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, it’s not any easier to squat in the woods than it was yesterday. Walking, at least, seems more doable. My mind and muscles appear to have finally gotten the rest they so desperately needed.

Once I return back to the tree, Iric has joined Soren at its base. It would seem that I once again have interrupted a conversation, likely about me.

“I thought you were trying to get more sleep,” I say.

“I was, but you’ve woken me up all the way. Falling back asleep is impossible now. You are not on my list of favorite people for today.”

“Sorry, Iric,” I say. “And I’m sorry about yesterday. Everything I said to you was unfair and rude. You’ve done me a great service, and I’m doing a poor job of thanking you for it. What can I do to help this morning with the chores?”

Soren looks to Iric and smiles, as though he just won the argument they were having before I showed up.

Iric straightens. “I’m heading to my forge this morning. You could come with me.”

“I’d like that.”

“Or,” Soren hastily adds, “you could come with me to check the traps for meat.”

I look from one boy to the next. Are they really making me choose?

“I’ll go with Iric,” I say. He’s the one I need to warm up to me.

Iric says, “Oh, don’t be so obvious, Soren.”

I find the second boy with his shoulders slumped, but he quickly rights them at Iric’s words and glares at him.

“All right, then,” Iric says. “This way, Raz. Mind the traps.”

Iric takes me down yet another trail. A group of Iric’s metal traps line the front, guarding the tree house from ziken, I realize. I leap over them and grunt from the pain that lances up my middle from the impact.

“Raz?” I ask when we’re out of Soren’s hearing.

“Your name is a mouthful. I’m shortening it.”

“And should I call you I?”

“That just sounds stupid.”

“And Raz doesn’t?”

“Well, the name should fit the person.”

“Is that supposed to be funny?”

His shoulders shake the smallest bit as I watch his back. He’s laughing silently. “I thought it was.”

“You don’t like me,” I observe.

“That’s not true. I insult everyone. Don’t take it so personally.”

“Tell me, Iric, are you letting me tag along because you want me to ooh and aah over your forge or is this some master plan to keep me from Soren and prevent our inevitable romance?” I remember what the boys argued over yesterday. I wonder if today’s argument was over the same topic.

“Both. Now be sure to step over this trap here on the trail.”

I cease talking long enough to veer around the trap, not letting any metal touch me.

“You needn’t worry,” I continue. “I have no interest in Soren that way. Romance is the furthest thing from my mind out here.”

“The longer you are away from home, the lonelier you will get. Soren’s been here a year and now look at him. He’s practically throwing himself at your feet.”

“He’s trying to repay a life debt!”

Iric shrugs. “Sounds like an excuse to be near you, if you ask me.”

Oh, what would he know? Iric doesn’t concern himself with honor. But I want him to like me, so I’m not about to say that aloud.

“And if, say, I had been a tall and handsome man instead of a plain-looking girl, what would you have done?” I ask.

“I don’t need something pretty to look at. I have my letters with Aros.”

Yes, good. This is the turn I want the conversation to take.

“How much do you love him?” I ask.

“More than my own life.”

“And what would you be willing to risk to get back to him?”

Iric halts suddenly, and I nearly run into his back. He spins around, brows raised. “I know exactly what you’re trying to do, Rasmira, and it’s not going to work. I already told you, I have no desire to die. If you’re trying to save my soul without my realizing it, you underestimate my intelligence.”