Warrior of the Wild(60)

“A man who finds his masculinity threatened by a powerful woman is no man at all,” he says. “You want someone who lifts you up, not tries to bring you down.”

I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but certainly not those words. “I like that. Let me know if you find any men who fit those requirements.”

He’s smiling at me, as if I’ve been left out of the joke. “There are men from Restin who fit those requirements.”

“I believe it. I rather like the two I’ve met so far.”

The thick foliage opens up into the clearing at the mountain’s base. Whatever Soren’s reply might have been, it’s cut off as he cranes his head back to take in the full height of the mountain.

“Just how long is it going to take us to climb this?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I’ve never climbed a mountain before. Let’s find out.” I take a step into the clearing. The god’s lair is far from here; I made sure we came out of the tree line nowhere near it.

We don’t climb straight up, but rather zigzag so as not to be so winded by the incline. It’s not terribly steep, but I imagine that after a few hours, we’ll really start to feel it. The trip is painfully slow. Every other step sends a sprinkling of rocks tumbling down after us, and Soren and I slip frequently, catching each other before tumbling head over feet. Despite the distance we’ve kept from his lair, I fear we will draw the god’s attention with the noise and tumbling rocks.

Eventually, we hit a patch of trees, and I relax because Peruxolo will no longer be able to spot us now that we have cover.

Soren, I notice, keeps glancing behind him. Not at the ground, exactly, but more like he’s looking in the direction of the tree house.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“This might have been a bad idea. We shouldn’t have left Iric alone.”

“You’re worried about him.”

“He’s not a warrior. Anything could happen while we’re gone.”

“He’s smart. He has his traps placed all around his forge and the tree house. He’ll be fine.”

“But what if something happens while we’re gone?”

I reach out a hand and touch his shoulder, stilling him a moment. “You’re a good friend to be concerned about him, but I think you’ve spent too much time worrying about Iric and not enough worrying about yourself.”

“Worrying about Iric is all I’ve done for the last year.”

“I know. You’re a selfless person. May the goddess take note of it, but it’s all right to take care of yourself as well. Iric forgave you, but you need to forgive yourself, too.”

Soren glances at my hand on his shoulder before meeting my gaze.

“Thank you,” he says. “I think you might be right, but it’s hard to change.”

“It’s something you have to work at. I know better than anyone.”

Soren reaches for my hand on his shoulder, and he threads our fingers together. “I like the changes you prompt in me.”

I stare at our clasped hands, unable to move for a moment. I wait for Torrin to surface, wait for his mocking laughter to whisper in my ears and the phantom pain of the bite to take root in my arm.

But they don’t come. Soren’s hand in mine grounds me in the present.

A bad thing happened to me back in the village. There’s no point in trying to pretend otherwise. I’ve spent so much time trying to forget. I put all my focus into killing the god, into helping Iric and Soren, because I couldn’t deal with what came before.

But it’s why I’m here. The goddess saw fit to test me in this overgrown, dangerous place. My own kind betrayed me, but I have survived nonetheless.

I’m glad I was banished.

The thought startles me, but I realize at once how true it is. If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met Iric and Soren, who have come to mean so much to me. I wouldn’t have learned so much about myself and what I can do. I wouldn’t have learned about teamwork and survival. I wouldn’t have learned so much about the god.

I may have lost much.

But I have also gained much.

And I am better for it.

Acceptance settles within me, and I finally look up.

“Are you all right?” Soren asks. “Is this okay?” He gives my hand a little squeeze so I know what he means.

“When we first met, you asked me if I had a boy waiting for me back in my village. I don’t.”

He grins at me, and we continue climbing, this time hand in hand.



* * *



EVENTUALLY, WE CONNECT WITH a thin stream of runoff during one of our cutbacks. We both pause to drink deeply from our canteens, then refill them.

“Where there’s water, there will be animals nearby,” Soren says.

He’s not wrong. We pass by no fewer than three goats in the next crossing. They have great, sweeping horns that jut over the tops of their heads, but they give us no trouble, hopping away as soon as we’re spotted. They have incredible strength in their back legs as they leap at least ten feet in the air to climb up ridges in the mountain.

“I wish I could jump like that,” Soren says.

“And what would you do with such an ability? Jump over everyone’s heads?”