by C.K. Bryant
Chapter Twenty Five
“Lydia?” Where am I?
“Shh. She is sleeping.” Octavion’s voice startled Kira. She didn’t realize she lay in his arms. She tried to push herself up to sit, but he pulled her back, cradling her against his chest. “Kira, you need to rest. It is still early.”
“I need to get up.” Why does my stomach hurt?
“No, be still,” he whispered.
“Seriously, Octavion. I think I’m gonna be sick.” Kira’s stomach churned as she felt the increased saliva rise in her throat. She covered her mouth.
Octavion jumped to his feet and helped Kira stand, leading her around the shelter and into the trees. She’d only taken a few steps when she heaved the contents of her stomach onto the ground. She grabbed the nearest tree and waited for another surge. It came quickly, followed by another and another.
“What’s wrong with me?”
Octavion supported her around the waist with his arm while he kept her hair from getting into the mess. “The blood from your lungs must have settled in your stomach. You coughed a lot last night and made no attempt to spit it up.”
Kira tried to straighten, but another surge hit, this time giving up nothing. The spasms came and went—making her broken ribs ache. She leaned her back against the tree and waited for Octavion to return with water. She took a swig, rinsed her mouth and spat it onto the ground. The second drink, she swallowed.
“Thanks.” She handed him the container and wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt.
Octavion helped Kira to the shelter and sat with his back against the lean-to. He motioned for her to lie in his arms again, but she wanted to see his face so she sat across from him and drew the blanket around her shoulders to take away the morning chill.
“What’s wrong? You seem different. Has something happened to Lydia?” Kira looked over her shoulder to find, not Lydia, but her kindred spirit sleeping in the other shelter. She looked peaceful enough.
“She is fine. She is still angry with me about her photographs, but we can deal with that later.” When he raised his eyes to meet hers, his serious expression set her back—something was wrong. “I need to speak with you about something. Perhaps we could take breakfast near the creek and let Altaria rest.”
“I’m not gonna like this, am I?”
“Probably not.”
While Kira waited for Octavion to stoke the fire and bring her breakfast, she concentrated on healing what was left of her injuries. Altaria still lay in her shelter and Toran sat near the fire, cleaning his face with his paws. She wondered what her life would be like now. Would she be able to finish school and graduate or would she hide here on the mountain with Lydia and her brother? As much as she wanted everything to return to normal, she knew it couldn’t, not with Shandira and Bastian out there.
And then she had another thought—what would happen to her when this was all over? Would Lydia and Octavion go back to Xantara and leave her behind? The very thought of never seeing them again made her eyes fill with tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand and tried not think about what her future held. She just needed to get through this one day. And then the next. And the next.
When Octavion returned with an armful of apples, oranges and a melon, she was grateful for the distraction—and more than curious about where he’d gotten so much fresh fruit.
“Do you have a grocery store through those trees?” she whispered. “Where did you get that stuff?”
He flashed a mischievous grin. “Trade secret.”
“Tell me,” she begged, still trying to be quiet. But not quiet enough.
“Magic,” Altaria groaned. She raised her arms above her head to stretch. “You two could wake the dead with your chatter. What’s for breakfast?”
Octavion continued to smile, but gave no answer to either one of their questions.
Kira threw back the covers and stood. “Fine! Don’t tell me. I guess I’ll just have to eat my breakfast alone.” Walking over to Octavion, she grabbed an apple and strolled off into the trees. She wanted to sit near the edge of the cliff and enjoy the warmth of the early morning sun on her face.
“And where do you think you are going?” Octavion asked, dumping the fruit in Altaria’s lap.
“Trade secret,” Kira called over her shoulder. She was surprised she heard no footsteps behind her. After she walked half way to the cliff, Octavion stepped from behind a tree.
“Octavion! Don’t do that!” She threw the apple at his head, only to have him catch it and take a bite. She grabbed what was left of her apple out of his hand. “Get your own breakfast.”
Strutting past him, she continued toward the cliff. Again, no footsteps, but when she arrived at the edge, he was lazily leaning against a tree, eating his own apple.
“How did you do that? And don’t tell me it’s magic.”
“I would rather show you. Let me take you to the creek.” He took his last bite before pitching the core over the edge. He wiped his hands on his pants and stood with his arms extended, as if offering a hug.
“I’m not walking all the way down there. Besides, you’re just trying to change the subject. Why won’t you tell me? I already know the worst of it, right?”
He still had his arms extended, but added a raised brow to his smirk. “Come here and I will show you.”
She gave him a sideways grin. “I don’t know. How do I know you won’t throw me off this cliff?”
Octavion shrugged. “If you go, I go—fair enough?”
Kira groaned. “Stop playing games. I thought you wanted to talk to me about something serious.”
Octavion didn’t wait for her to come to him. He crossed the short distance between them, grabbed her, and jumped—right off the edge.