Touch of Power
Page 29

I finally barked back at him. “You should be happy. The mercs think I’m dead. They won’t be chasing us anymore.”
My comment earned me a glare from Kerrick.
Belen slapped his leg. “She’s right! What a day. I thought we’d all die. Killed by a giant plant. Not the way I’d want to go.”
“How would you want to die?” Loren asked.
“Doing something heroic and not something stupid,” Belen said.
“Not like you get a choice,” Flea said. “Starving to death isn’t heroic or stupid, it’s just plain sad.”
It wouldn’t surprise me if Flea had personal experience with starvation. During the two years of the plague, no one tended the fields or cared for livestock. Many people who had survived the disease died of starvation.
Flea sat across the fire, juggling two stones. He’d mastered the technique. I offered to teach him how to include the third stone.
“Sure, that’d be great.”
We searched for a rock that matched the size and weight of the others. When we found a good stone, I demonstrated the motions.
“Hold two rocks in one hand, and one in the other. Remember how you threw the second rock when the first reached the top of the inverted V? When the second rock is at the apex, you throw the third with one hand and catch the first with the other. And just keep throwing so one rock is always in the air.”
He rushed his first attempt. A rock whizzed by Loren’s head. On the second and third try, he pelted Belen’s shoulder. The big man tossed the stones back good-naturedly. When Flea almost clipped Kerrick, we were ordered to move farther away.
At least Flea considered this new step a challenge and wasn’t getting frustrated yet. After twenty tries, Flea performed one successful juggle before dropping all the stones.
“That’s it!” I said. “Now all you need to do is—”
“Practice, I know.” He paused for a moment, sobering. “Thanks, Avry.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “This is fun for me, too. It reminds me of happier days.”
“Not just for teaching me to juggle, but for, you know…saving me from the nasty giant flower.”
“Anytime,” I said.
“No.” His body stiffened as all joviality fled, replaced by a dead-serious intensity. “Don’t risk yourself for me again. I’m willing to die for Prince Ryne. It’s my choice. Not yours.”
Surprised by his demeanor, I considered his words. “You haven’t even met Ryne. Why are you so willing to give up your life for him?”
Flea gestured toward the fire. Quain, Belen and Loren exchanged insults. Kerrick had taken the next shift of guard duty.
“They are willing. I trust them. It’s that simple.” He crossed his arms. “Promise me you won’t risk your life for me.”
“No. Because it’s not that simple for me.”
Flea huffed just like Kerrick. I almost laughed.
“Well, it should be simple for you, as well,” Flea said.
“Why?”
“Don’t you trust Kerrick?”
This time I couldn’t muffle a laugh. “No.”
“What about Belen? You trust him, don’t you?”
“That’s different. Belen sees good in everyone. I know that he’s not lying to me about Prince Ryne, but I don’t trust his judgment.”
Flea gave up and stormed back to the fire. I stayed behind, mulling over our conversation. When Kerrick’s men had found Flea, he’d been on his own for as long as he could remember. They’d protected him and all but adopted him. Of course he would be grateful and loyal. They were in essence his family so his judgment was suspect, as well.
“It’s getting late,” Kerrick said.
I jumped a foot. “Will you stop doing that!” I spun in the direction of his voice.
“Doing what?” He stepped from the shadows, but halted a few feet away.
“Sneaking up on me.”
“I wasn’t. You’re just deaf to the sounds of the forest.” His reasonable tone at least meant he’d gotten over his earlier snit.
“I don’t have your forest magic.”
“You don’t need it. The forest has its own unique…song. I taught my men how to listen for notes that are off-key, and for those silent pauses which means danger.”
Curious, I couldn’t help asking, “Did you teach them how to move without making noise?”
“Yes. Except they do make noise. It just blends in with the forest’s song so it doesn’t stand out. I could teach it to you if you’d like.”
I searched his expression, but I couldn’t tell if he joked or was serious. Instead of responding, I asked him, “Why didn’t you tell your men about your magic?”
“I don’t want them to rely on it.”
“But you use it all the time.”
“Only since you’ve been with us. I don’t want them getting lazy or sloppy, believing I can protect everyone. There’s a reason I taught them how to navigate the forest. If something happened to me, they need to be able to protect themselves.”
“What about Belen? He’s been with you the longest. Doesn’t he suspect?”
“We’ve never talked about it. He may.”
“He probably felt you using magic at some point.”
A strange queasy expression, almost a flinch, creased his face for a second. “Those without power can’t feel it. In fact, I was under the impression that only a fellow forest mage could sense it, and only when we were both in the forest. I can’t feel others’ magic unless they use it when we’re both in the woods.”