Warrior of the Wild(48)

Iric arcs back an arm and connects it at just the right angle to send a huge spray of water into my face.

“Hey!” I shout.

“You’re here to teach me to swim. Not make me do tricks!”

“It’s not a trick. You need to learn to hold your breath. How else are you to face a water beast?”

Iric stomps over to the edge of the pool, preparing to haul himself out.

“Wait.”

He pauses, but I can tell he’s already about to decide to ignore me. I place a hand on his arm. “Come here.”

Grudgingly, Iric lets go of the edge and walks with me back to the center of the pool. I take his hands in mine. “You’re not alone in this. Remember that. We’ll do it together.”

He looks down at our joined hands. Resolve takes over his features, and he nods. “All right.”

On the count of three, we both bend at the knees and go down. Iric’s fingers in mine turn into a death grip, but I don’t let go.

I cut him a break, and only count out three slow seconds, before tugging him back up. He doesn’t need any extra encouragement.

I beam at him, proud of my student. “How did he do?” I ask, turning to Soren.

Soren is looking at me so strangely, the smile falls from my face. “What?”

“I’ve never seen you smile like that before. You have a lovely smile.”

Lovely.

That word has my throat tightening, bile threatening to come up.

Even with the cut, you’re still lovely. How do you manage that?

Another boy once called me lovely. A boy who regarded me as an insect, offering me food to draw me in with one hand while preparing to squash me with the other.

“That’s enough swimming for the day,” I say, the words coming out flat. I haul myself out of the water, grab my things, and plunge into the wild.



* * *



WHEN THE BOYS RETURN from the lake, I’ve already changed and braided my hair out of my face. I open the door in the floor, staring down at the two boys that are still very wet. I wonder if Iric pushed Soren in.

“Stay where you are,” I say as Iric tries to grab a branch.

“Why?” he asks.

I’ve thought about this the whole time I walked back alone to the tree house. I had to think of something to keep my thoughts away from Torrin.

“We’re going to complete our mattugrs,” I start, but Soren butts in.

“We are?”

“Yes, you missed that conversation. But we are. And if we’re going to help each other, we need to trust each other. Right now, Iric, you don’t trust Soren. Or at least you’re still holding too much against him.”

Iric shoots an incredulous look up at me. “Of course I’m holding things against him! He is the reason I’m banished!”

“No,” I argue. “You got yourself banished. You should have trusted Aros and taken the trial for the profession you wanted.”

Iric’s glare is murderous. “Just like you trusted your friend?”

Oh, that one hurts. I trusted Iric with what happened at my trial, and now he’s throwing it in my face.

I slam the trapdoor shut and sit on it.

“What are you doing?” Soren asks.

“Neither of you is coming up here until you talk through your problems!” I shout.

“She can’t be serious,” Iric says.

I’m dead serious. Earlier today, Iric needed a gentler hand to help and encourage him while swimming. But this? This is something he needs to face head-on. And I don’t care if he’s angry about it.

There’s pressure against the trapdoor as someone tries pushing against it. Probably Iric.

At the angle he has to shove, he’s not moving the door anywhere.

“Dammit, Rasmira! Move it!”

“No!”

“Get out of the way or I swear on your goddess that I won’t make you new armor!”

“Iric, you idiot! I’m doing this for you. You want to go home. We all do. You’re not going to accomplish that if you keep holding so much over Soren’s head.”

“You expect me to suddenly forgive him because you won’t let me inside my own house?”

“No, I expect you to talk. What happens after that is up to you. But I won’t let your problems stand in the way of us going home.”

He growls up at me, but I don’t move. Eventually, I hear the sounds of Iric climbing back down.

“Soren, make her let us in!” Iric screams.

“What do you expect me to do?”

“Flash that winning smile or bat those long lashes or something.”

“First, she wouldn’t see me bat my lashes from here, and second—”

“This is your fault! You brought her here, and now she’s stolen our home!”

They quiet as they hear me moving about the house, hauling things around.

“Is she—” Soren starts.

“She’s moving the mattress over the top of the trapdoor! You are not keeping us out here all night long, Rasmira.”

“That’s entirely up to you,” I say, plumping up my pillow before finding a comfy position.

“What do we do?” Iric asks. “Shatter the window? Or we could wait her out. There’s not that much food up there. She’s got to piss sometime.”