Wave-Touched, page 32
“Seh’hali,” Kyril murmured, stopping Veyl from trying to sit up with a hand on her shoulder. “This woman’s going to look at your wound.”
Seyn had disappeared, though Veyl could still feel the wave dancer close by. Although that made no sense. Perhaps she was becoming delirious.
The woman, her face lined with hardship more than age, set a lantern down next to Veyl and looked her over. Her gaze lingered on Veyl’s pointed ears and blood-red hair for almost as long as it did the cut on her cheek. Then she glanced down at her side as Kitria knelt next to her and pulled the shirt up. Veyl reached out, uncertain whether she simply got lucky and found Kyril’s hand or he caught on that fast and took hold of hers. Either way, his firm grip provided comfort and gave her something to squeeze as they peeled away the bandages.
“Sure. That’s a bad ‘un.”
“And? Can you help?” Gannon pressed.
“This girl should be seein’ a physician.” The woman frowned at Veyl’s side. “But yeh can’t do that, can yeh? Yer the ones those soldiers are lookin’ for.” She shook her head and sighed as if all the troubles of the world had landed on her shoulders. “The light’s shit, but I’ve worked in worse. Bring my packs over.” She looked Veyl in the eyes. “I got somethin’ that’ll numb it a bit, sweetheart, but it’s still gonna hurt. I can’t help that.”
Veyl nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
The woman snorted. “We’ll see if yeh feel that way when I’m done.”
Veyl made it most of the way through the cleaning of the wound before she begged Gannon and Kyril to hold her still, because she couldn’t do it on her own anymore. The pain that followed as the woman stitched it was an unending scream in Veyl’s mind. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she was distantly aware of Kyril and Gannon, both offering alternating words of encouragement and apology as they held her in place. An endless period of suffering later, she lay sweaty and exhausted, without the energy to even open her eyes as the woman finished covering the wound.
“Tha’s probably my best work yet.” She sounded pleased with what she had accomplished. “Keep it clean and covered. Put this salve on it once a day. It ain’t as good as what yeh’ve got up north, but it’s the best we got.”
“Thank you. Come, we’ll finish up and let her rest.”
Gannon’s voice moved away, and Veyl let herself drift. The intense pain in her side calmed as whatever salve the woman had put on it took effect. Enough so, sheer exhaustion had the power to drag her down into a fitful slumber.
“Seh’hali.”
Her eyelids felt weighted down, but she forced them open. “A few minutes.”
“We can’t assume she won’t tell anyone we’re here,” Kyril said gently.
“But she helped us.”
“For coin. And she stands to make a tidy sum more if she turns us in.”
“Shit,” she muttered, letting him carefully help her to her feet. “Where did we find the coin to pay her?”
“I don’t know.” Kyril guided her to the bigger horse. “I’m going to assume it was another gift from the wavelord, but given the lengths I believe Gannon would go to for you, I chose not to ask.”
They had moved the animal up next to a rise in the ground to make it easier for Veyl to mount. Kyril steadied her on one side with Kitria ready to assist from the other. Even with that, the pull on the fresh stitches was agony, but at least they held. To her surprise, Kyril climbed up behind her this time. He wrapped an arm low around her waist, keeping clear of the injury, and pulled her close.
“Lean on me. I don’t need my hands to guide him, so I can use them to keep you upright.”
“You’re injured as well.” It bothered her how much effort just speaking required.
“My wounds are not as deep, and Kronach had a physician tend what they could after his men took me from the Thaelian guards.” His voice tightened with anger on the last two words.
She couldn’t imagine what it must have felt like to be treated thus by his own people. Then again, given that she was in her current condition because of Jaysen, perhaps it didn’t require that much imagination after all.
Seyn paced up alongside them and looked up at Veyl with those bright sea-foam eyes. Then she trotted ahead, going to the front to find them a route through the woods with her superior night vision.
“But the bruises over your ribs—”
“Quiet.”
The horses started moving. Veyl did as Kyril had suggested and leaned back against him, feeling him tense when she did so. The reaction brought with it a pang of sorrow.
“What do you remember?”
He was silent long enough that she wondered if she had only imagined speaking aloud, then he asked, “Of us?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t worry about it right now.”
“Indulge me.”
Every muscle in his body that she could feel tightened even more. “I remember Deepwater and most of the journey to Thaelis, as well as the awful things I put you through along the way. I recall in unfortunate detail the feel of my hand around your throat when I had you pinned to the wall after you broke Illis. I dragged you away from your life and the people you loved, making you miserable enough that you tried to kill yourself. Those memories are powerful.”
“Kyril—”
“Quiet.” Without the energy to argue, she closed her eyes, focusing on the vibration of his voice against her back when he spoke again, sorrow forming a vast hollow in her chest. “There are fragmented memories that suggest moments of connection in Thaelis and in Vanris and working together to find a solution for protecting your people and mine. I have occasional flashes in my mind of holding you, and touching you, of being kissed and touched by you, but they feel like fever dreams. The kind that slip away soon after you awaken. Fantasies. They make no sense in the context of what I do remember, and I have trouble believing them. I don’t see how you could do anything but despise me.”
“I did despise you in the beginning,” she murmured, struggling to keep her voice steady as the horse’s movement on the uneven terrain caused pulling and pain.
“And you still should.”
She tried to think of a way to ease his mind as she drifted somewhere between the beckoning sleep of weakness and pure exhaustion and the nightmare of losing him. “I love you.”
He said nothing.
***
Veyl didn’t recall stopping and dismounting. Nor did she recall the others setting up camp in the shelter of an overhang or lying down on the single bedroll they had among them to sleep. When she woke, she was warmer than she would have expected. She lay on her side with Seyn stretched in front of her, one arm resting on the wave dancer, and someone against her back. Somehow, just from the feel of his chest, she knew it was Kyril. Her arm and shoulder under her were numb from the hard ground, but she didn’t want to move. Not yet. And not only because of the pain that effort promised to cause. They had apparently decided that she required warmth, and after her, he, with his injuries, was next most in need of a slightly softer, warmer spot to sleep. For a moment, with him pressed against her, she could pretend he was there because he wished to be closer to her and believed that she wanted him there.
She let her eyes fall shut again.
“Unfortunately, I can’t let you do that.”
She opened her eyes to look at Gannon, who now crouched in front of her on the other side of Seyn. Veyl held out a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it, and she squeezed gently… weakly.
“Thank you for finding that woman.”
He shrugged. “Are you feeling better?”
“Not a lot,” she answered honestly, “but I don’t feel worse, and I think that’s where I was heading.”
Kyril stirred, placing a hand on her shoulder to support her as he sat up, taking away the warmth of his body.
“We’ll do everything we can to avoid hurting you anymore, but we’re still not safe.” Gannon released her hand and moved back to let Seyn get up.
The wave dancer turned and licked Veyl full in the face before trotting out of their way.
Gannon chuckled. “Under different circumstances, I’d say that was gross, but I suspect you may have the cleanest face of all of us now.” His gaze shifted to Kyril. “Help me?”
The two of them worked together to help Veyl sit up without straining her side, then Kitria held out a wooden bowl toward her and Kyril as if uncertain who to offer it to. Kyril nudged it toward Veyl.
“You first.”
Kitria’s smile was apologetic. “We need to share the same bowl. Gannon and I already ate. It’s not much. A few bites of thin stew. I caught one of those little fuzzy hopping critters…” She looked at Gannon.
“A rabbit,” he offered.
“That’s right.”
“You don’t have rabbits on Thaelis?” Veyl glanced at Kyril, but his focus had turned to carefully stretching the stiffness out of his muscles. Her gaze moved to Kitria.
“No. Never heard of them before this. They’re kind of cute with those absurd ears.” She held her hands upright against her head and wiggled them as if to illustrate for Veyl. “I almost felt guilty for killing it.”
Sitting up had caused enough pain to curb Veyl’s appetite, but she made herself eat as much as she could stand to before passing it to Kitria to refill for her brother. She watched Gannon and Kitria clean up the camp and prepare the horses. It took only a few minutes. They had tried to stay ready for a hasty departure. When they stole a moment to sit as Kyril finished eating, Veyl pondered the two Thaelians.
“Did you have any idea the council was working with the Ukhen’kya?”
Kyril stalled mid-bite.
Kitria shook her head. “That’s absurd.”
They really didn’t know? Of course they didn’t. Why would Jaysen or the councilors have told them anything? She was the one Jaysen wanted. Gannon and Kitria were mere victims of circumstance, used to manipulate her, and Kyril, an act of revenge and a token to acknowledge his agreement with the Thaelian leadership.
“Councilor Shyall said they had been using the Unclean to eliminate subversives within Thaelis. The night they took us, they sent them to attack Vanris’s fleet to keep their attention off what was happening on the other side of the island.”
Kitria paled, looking like she might be sick. “The explosion? I thought that was the council’s doing.”
Kyril only nodded. “I’m surprised she admitted it to you. Jinau suspected there was something of the sort going on. There were several instances where people they asked him to investigate conveniently fell victim to Ukhen’kya attacks.” He used a little water to rinse the bowl he had emptied and held it out to Kitria.
“You knew about this?” Kitria snatched the bowl from him. “How could you keep this a secret?”
He gave her a hard look. “They were taking out subversives, Kit. The more you knew, the more likely you were to disappear some night. I couldn’t risk losing you.”
“I think Jinau’s dead.” Though Veyl spoke softly, she had Kyril’s immediate attention.
Kitria lowered her gaze.
Gannon nodded. “Right before they took us, they dragged him into the house. There was a lot of blood. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing.”
Kyril turned south and strode a short distance in that direction, his hands balling into fists. Veyl reached out to Gannon, and he helped her to her feet. With shaky, tentative steps, she walked over beside Kyril, also peering to the south.
“I feel the same.” She murmured, her words meant for his ears alone.
He glanced down at her. “You want to go back and make him pay?”
“I want to make them all pay.”
Kyril nodded. His hand shifted closer, as if he considered taking hers.
Seyn came bolting out of the trees. She gave a high whine and lunged in Veyl’s direction, then leapt away toward the horses, her ears back and tail low.
Kyril turned abruptly. “We need to go. There are several hounds coming through the trees, and I suspect they aren’t alone. I can divert them, but we shouldn’t take chances.”
“Agreed. Can you continue supporting Veyl on the horse?” Gannon asked him.
Kyril nodded.
Minutes later, they were fleeing again, Kyril using his ability to guide their mount, so he might help her balance in the saddle and minimize the stress on the newly stitched wound. If only he realized how often she had yearned to have his arms around her in the light of day. Their circumstances made a mockery of that desire.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
They followed Seyn for the rest of that day. The wave dancer was their first warning whenever danger approached, and she frequently bolted ahead to scout the path and ensure they didn’t end up in terrain the horses couldn’t navigate without too much difficulty. That night, the wave dancer hunted with Gannon and Kitria. They ate in relative silence, all of them too exhausted to have much to say. Seyn slept with Veyl again. Kyril also lay on the bedroll next to her as he had the night before. He seemed to feel stronger, though she caught the occasional grimace or wince when he moved suggesting that his injuries still caused him pain.
The next day found them traveling the coastal woodlands between Balarus and Deepwater. Veyl had studied the map of this area before she came here with her parents for the negotiations with Thrasser what felt like an eternity ago. She knew where Sarket’s watchtowers were. Unfortunately, the woods gave way to grassy dunes along the coast, heading into the Crimson Break and barren desert a little farther inland. The terrain wouldn’t offer much cover once they left the shelter of the trees.
When they checked it that morning, the cut over her ribs was turning a hot, angry red. None of them bothered to point out that it wasn’t a positive development. They didn’t need to. If they could make it across the Break to one of the Vanrian watchtowers, a healer with the proper knowledge and access to Vanris’s medicines could tend the injury. They had little weaponry. Just the two swords she had gotten from Kronach and a dagger his men had given Gannon. They would face odds heavily stacked against them if they got into a confrontation now.
“We haven’t got much choice.” Gannon stood alongside his mount, staring out through the trees at the nearest watchtower northeast of them. Another towering structure stuck up from the landscape farther out to the northwest. “If we follow the road, we’ll have to deal with border guards. We all know they won’t let us pass. If we cross elsewhere, any watchtower guard who spots us is going to suspect we avoided the roads for a reason and come to investigate. We can assume the men Jaysen sent from Taro brought them orders to watch for and apprehend us.”
“We could wait until evening. It’s only a few hours away now,” Kitria suggested.
“That’s probably our best choice. We have Seyn. She can guide us around hazards in the dark.” Kyril adjusted his arm where it rested low around Veyl’s waist, avoiding the wound as best he could. Their mount shifted one leg, even that tiny motion bringing her more pain. “Veyl and Kitria can ride together on this gelding for the crossing. They’re light, and he’s strong enough that he should be able to keep up a decent speed if we need to run.”
“It’s likely they’ll still spot us, but our odds might be marginally better in the dark.” Gannon glanced over his shoulder at Kyril and nodded. “We should find a spot to rest and eat before we try it.”
Some measure of respect showed in Gannon’s regard when he looked at Kyril now. Would that grudging appreciation remain once they were in Vanris again? He got along with Kitria well enough, but then, she hadn’t taken him hostage and dragged him off to a strange land. A traumatizing experience by itself and one that had ultimately led to him losing his tehnaak, a fact Veyl didn’t intend to remind him of. Although none of that mattered if they never made it home. Perhaps it was best to focus on the challenges directly in front of them.
Kyril glanced down at Seyn, who stood beside their horse, as she often did when they weren’t moving. “Can you find us a secure place to rest?”
The wave dancer looked at Veyl, who nodded in support of the request. For whatever reason, the beast always checked in with her now. It was both disconcerting and flattering.
With Seyn’s guidance, they settled in a modest clearing amidst a dense patch of trees. Kitria and Gannon slipped off for a quick hunt to see if they could find something more filling to eat, leaving Veyl and Kyril in the camp. After touching her black nose to the back of Veyl’s hand, Seyn also trotted off into the trees.
“She’s bonded to you,” Kyril remarked.
Veyl looked for a stump or log where she could sit without having to do so on the ground where her injury would make getting up again more difficult. Besides the pain, a general malaise had come over her, likely connected to the infection developing in the wound.
“I’m not a Feral.”
He shifted a broken section of a fallen tree, moving it onto a flatter spot to serve as a seat. “Wave dancers aren’t like most other beasts. They can create a bond with anyone, though they typically choose to do so with Ferals when they do so at all.”
“Then why me?”
He gave her a long look that said he thought she was being deliberately obtuse. “Seh’hali.”
Frustration flared, bringing a feverish warmth to her face. “I am not the Daughter of the Ocean or wave-touched or any of these absurd things you all want to make me.” She started toward the log, and he stepped in her path. Her pulse quickened when she looked up into his eyes.
One of his hands rose as if he meant to touch her, then he lowered it again. “Do you honestly believe these unconnected beings—the wave dancers, the Qwilki, and Wavelord Kronach—are all wrong? They see… we all see something in you. Refusing to acknowledge it yourself doesn’t mean it isn’t there.” He stepped out of her way and gestured to the log. “Unless you’d rather lie down. I can spread out the bedroll for you.”
She looked away from him, the sting of the emotional distance he maintained stoking a deep hatred in her toward the man who had caused it. “No. It’s better if we remain ready to move. We’re too close now. I’d rather not take chances.”
