by Kris A Hiatt
Kiril walked over and knelt down next to him, opposite of Moff. There was a large gash on the side of her face and one eye was swollen badly. He knew she was in pain, but it also seemed to be more than just the physical pain from her wounds. He could also feel her emotional pain, her sadness. She wanted to cry but was holding it back. She was trying to be strong for her father.
Treace realized it then. Her pain and sadness was for Kint. In his heart he knew Kint was dead. He didn’t know how or when, but yet he knew it because she knew.
“I’m just glad you’re finally awake,” she told him.
Treace could feel the sincerity in her voice. She was happy he was awake, but he could tell she was happier yet that he was moving around, seemingly unhindered. Even though he could feel her happiness for him, he could feel that her sadness for losing her father was far, far more prominent.
Without thinking, he reached out and pulled her to him. He pulled her head to his shoulder and snuggled his face in her neck. He wrapped his other arm around her tightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered in her ear. “Go ahead.”
She didn’t resist him in the least. She flung her arms around him and began to cry. She sobbed into his shoulder, grieving for her loss.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, and cried with her.
“Umm, well,” Moffred sputter, clearly uncomfortable.
He ignored his friend and held her tight for many minutes, giving her the time she needed to grieve. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back while she cried. At last, when the sobs turned to sniffles, he let her go. Not because he wanted to, but because he could feel she had released all the grief that she could at the time.
He pushed her to arm’s length, but didn’t let her go. He looked into her eyes and while he still saw pain, he also saw relief. He knew that was a good thing. Having cried over a lost father himself, he knew it would take a long time for her to fully accept that he was gone, but seeing relief in her eyes was a start.
“Thank you,” she said before quickly getting up and walking back to her horse.
“We good?” Moff asked, standing near the other horse.
He didn’t see Moff walk away, but he was more concerned with Kiril at the time and wasn’t surprised that he didn’t notice his friend move. He looked around and noticed they were in a forest somewhere. He was in a small camp that mostly consisted of pine branches for beds and a very small cooking fire. His stomach grumbled at the thought of food. He ignored it and focused on more pressing matters. “Where are we and what happened?” He also thought of asking about Kint, but thought better of it.
“You don’t remember?” Moffred asked.
“I was fighting Disdane at Kiril’s house,” Treace told him. “That’s all I remember.”
“Simply put,” Kiril said. “He downed you and I stepped in to help.”
He didn’t want to believe it, but he knew it was true. He was disappointed in himself for being beaten, but also glad to be alive. She must be quite the fighter if she finished off Disdane. He couldn’t believe she was able to defeat the man. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t get the feeling that she did, but how else would they be here? “You defeated him?”
“No,” she admitted, looking at her feet. “But neither did my father let him hurt me.”
Treace wanted to point out the fact that a severely swollen eye and a blood caked wound on the side of her face could hardly be considered prevention, but he thought better of it. “How?”
“Kint placed a barrier over Disdane,” Moff explained. “The barrier wouldn’t let him move. He just stood there and watched while Kiril healed you. His magic is very powerful.”
She healed him and Treace saw it. He saw the act from her eyes. It was amazing! He could see himself lying on the ground, blood pouring from several wounds, the worst being from his shoulder. He must be seeing what she was remembering. He didn’t know how he was able to do it, but he knew why. Her healing magic. It all made sense now. That explained their emotional connection. She healed him and now they were connected, at least for a time. There were many implications of using magic that this brought forth, but he would need time to process everything that had happened before he brought it up. He realized that his left hand had crept over his right shoulder and he was pleased to not feel any proof the wound ever existed. She was very powerful.
“But yet he wasn’t able to save himself,” Kiril said. “He died trying to save me.”
Treace could feel her emotions well up again and he couldn’t blame her for it. He knew the pain of losing a father. The only thing he could do was try to help her understand the truth. “He didn’t just try. He did save you,” Treace told her. “And he saved me.”
“Saved all of us as far as I’m concerned,” Moff added.
Kiril didn’t say anything, but she nodded. She reached up and pressed in on her swollen cheek. She winced at the pain.
Treace took the nod for acceptance of the truth. That would have to be enough for now, there wasn’t anything else he could do in that regard but to be there for her when and if she wanted. But that had to be on her terms, not his. However, he wasn’t going to let her stand there in physical pain when he knew he could do something about it. “Here, let me help you.”
She simply nodded again.
He approached her and inspected the wound. While it surely wasn’t life threatening like his was, he knew from experience that it was still painful. “I’m not as good at it as you,” he explained, speaking of his healing magic. “But I’m sure it will help.”
“You’ll be fine,” Kiril told him, offering a small yet sweet smile.
Treace reached up and gently grasped her cheeks in his hands. He closed his eyes and found The Calm immediately. He searched above for his emotions, knowing they would be there. He concentrated on the love he needed to fuel his magic. He felt the love he had for his mother and Jensen, seeing them holding hands together on the bench by the forge when they thought he wasn’t looking. He felt the love he had for Moff and Heral, his two best friends he couldn’t live without. And, of course, he thought of his father and the letter saying just how much the man had loved his son. He merged those feelings and willed that emotional love to come to him, to fill his being. He let the emotion fill his heart and its bright glow radiated from within. He willed it to fly fast from his body and into hers, mentally squeezing the healing power out of himself and into her. He could feel the magic burrowing into the wound, fusing flesh back together and closing the broken blood vessels, healing the soft tissue around her eye. He squeezed all of the magic out of himself as he could and when he knew there was nothing left, he left The Calm.
When he opened his eyes he found that the gash under her eye was healed and the swelling was gone. A tiny little scar remained, but barely visible from the few inches away they were. That made him realize they were much closer together now than they were when he began. Either he moved closer to her during the healing, or she had moved closer to him. Whoever did the moving didn’t matter to him right then. He was busy looking directly at the most beautiful woman he had ever met. That beauty wasn’t only superficial. They were connected. Somehow it seemed to be a deep connection, and he knew the truth of the woman. She was just as beautiful on the inside as she was out.
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly.
It could have been the magical connection or it could have just been because she was a beautiful girl inches from him, either way he very much wanted to kiss her right then. But he remembered that the last time he had stolen a kiss, he got in a fistfight and lost, so he just smiled at her instead and said, “You’re welcome.”
He was surprised when he felt her grab his face in her hands and press her lips lightly to his, letting the kiss linger for a few seconds. She gently stroked his cheek with her thumb as she kissed him. She pulled away but still held his face in her hands. She looked him in the eye and smiled.
“Thank you again,” she told him.
Treace wasn’t sure what to say. He
wasn’t sure if he could say anything even if he did. So, as usual, he said nothing. After everything that would happen to him in his life, he would never forget that kiss. He would remember it vividly until the day that he died.
“You are very, very sweet,” she said. “But now we should get moving.”
She let go of him and pulled away from his hands. She turned around and began removing the small pack that was attached to Treace’s saddle.
“I’m not even going to pretend to understand what just happened,” Moffred said.
“Me either,” Treace admitted.
Kiril didn’t reply. She removed the straps and buckles that used to contain Treace’s swords.
“If we are leaving again, why aren’t you putting the saddle back on?” Treace asked.
“The two of us aren’t fitting in one saddle,” Kiril explained.
That made sense to him. He supposed it would be a long walk to Haven.
“We’re only a few hours off the road,” Moffred said. “It’ll be easier on the horses once we get on the road again.”
“We aren’t going back to the road,” Kiril told him.
“Why?”
“Because staying on it will get us killed,” Kiril explained.
“Shamir’s men will be looking for us, no doubt,” Treace added, agreeing with Kiril. “We’re better off navigating the fields and forests and staying off the main roads.” The possibility of fighting Shamir’s men made him think of his weapons. He didn’t feel their weight on his back but he reached up and behind him anyway. Nothing there. Then he remembered that he wasn’t wearing his armor anyway.
“We didn’t have time to pick them up,” Moffred said, getting his saddle ready to be put on his horse. “We left in a hurry.”
Treace looked around at the makeshift camp and his eyes again caught the remnants of the fire. His stomach growled again. He looked up to the sky, trying to figure out what time it was. Then he realized they didn’t answer him on where they were. When was the last time that he ate? How long had he been out? He realized then that he also needed to urinate.
“A day,” Kiril said. “Well, not quite.”
Treace knew she was answering his thoughts regarding the time he was out. He realized he would have to be careful of the things he thought about or he’d make a fool of himself. There were more questions to be answered, but he thought he’d better answer Mother Nature’s call first. He walked off into the woods to find a tree. After that he hoped they could find some food.
“We can’t stop at any of these towns,” Kiril stated. “It’s too risky.”
“What are you talking about?” Moff asked.
It had to be odd for Moff to only hear one side of the conversation. It must sound like Kiril was talking to herself. Treace could feel her hesitation and fear. She was scared they would get caught by Shamir’s men. But even if he sent men to the towns to tell them to be on the lookout, they would be looking for either two men, or two men and a woman. He figured one person could go into town and get some food and supplies without causing too much suspicion. He figured Moff would do just fine. “One person could go in while the other’s stayed back,” he said as he neared his selected tree.
“You are right, Moff could go in alone and be back in no time,” Kiril told him.
“What can Moff do?” he asked.
“Stop talking about yourself in third-person,” Kiril replied. “That’s what Moff can do.”
Treace got the feeling she didn’t like people that spoke about themselves in third-person. He could feel her anger towards someone from her past who often mocked her. Kiril thought it was only because the girl was jealous. She spoke of herself in third-person and mocked Kiril when doing it. Kiril hated it.
“She was only jealous of how beautiful you are,” Treace told her, walking back to camp after finishing his business.
“I always knew you were attracted to me,” Moff said, clearly speaking to him, but saying so playfully.
“Not you,” Treace told him.
“Care to tell me what you two are talking about?”
Treace could tell his friend was lost and it annoyed him. “Path of Heart passes along some sort of emotional connection after the healing has been completed,” Treace explained. “Sometimes that emotion drives thoughts. Some of which can be felt by the other.”
“That’s right,” Moff said, a spark of recognition in his eyes.
Treace was surprised his friend had forgotten that. But since Moff couldn’t even find The Calm, he guessed he just didn’t think about Path of Heart all that much.
“It fades over time,” Kiril added. “Sometimes it’s interesting to be inside someone else’s thoughts, but most times you just don’t want to know what they’re thinking.”
Treace could feel that she had a bad experience with it once, but he couldn’t tell what it was exactly. He tried to concentrate on it, but it was gone.
“If you want to know what I’m thinking,” Moff said. “Just ask.”
“I don’t need to,” Kiril told him, giving him a hard look. “I know what you want. But you’re not going to get it.”
Moffred blushed. It wasn’t a sight he saw often.
“Let’s go,” Kiril said, jumping up on the horse. “Before either of you thinks or says something else to get you in trouble.”
Treace didn’t argue with that. He had never ridden bareback before, so he thought this would be interesting.
“Grab your pack and get on,” Kiril told Treace, arm extended for him.
He picked up the pack, slung it over his shoulder, and paused. He realized that his wrist wasn’t broken after all. That or she could mend bone, but he doubted that.
He took her hand gently and was pleased to not feel any pain. He jumped up behind her and the horse staggered a little but gained her balance easily enough. Kiril wasn’t very big and he would never be called large either.
He settled in and wasn’t sure if he should put his arms around her or not. She answered that for him by grabbing his arm and pulling it around her.
Moff climbed atop his horse and looked to Kiril, obviously waiting to follow her lead.
Kiril wrapped her hands around the horse’s mane and kicked her heels in to get the animal moving. The well-trained mare did as she was asked and they were off.
~~~
Treace was happy to finally have some food in his stomach. He inhaled the meal, but he was so hungry he couldn’t help it. He would have felt bad had both of the others not done the same. He grabbed the waterskin and took a long drink from it. It reminded him of one of the lumberjacks in Lake City when he was a kid. They would take a drink like that after chopping wood for hours.
“Bread and jerky has never tasted so good,” Moff said, holding his hand out for the waterskin.
Moff wasn’t scared at all about being caught in the small town, or if he was, he didn’t outwardly show it. Treace was glad it worked out. He was a little nervous for his friend and was relieved when Moff rode his horse back into camp a few hours ago with enough bread and jerky to last for a while. He only managed two waterskins, though, so he gave one to Kiril and he and Treace were sharing the other.
Treace handed him the waterskin and looked over at Kiril. She had been quiet for most of dinner and had been quiet for most of the five-hour ride to their campsite. She was thinking of her father, of course. She was thinking of not only how sad it was to lose him, but also how sad she was that she couldn’t bury him. He wished there was more he could do for her. While he didn’t know what it was like to not be able to bury someone you loved, he knew what it was like to lose a father. It was horrible. His mother refused to speak of it and cried whenever he brought it up. He didn’t have any friends to comfort him either. He didn’t know if she was ready to call him a friend yet, but he was more of one than he had during his troubled time.
“How’d you deal with it?” she asked, clearly reading his thoughts.
“I cried a lot,” Treace admitted. The
re was no use trying to lie, she’d know he was in an instant. “And I read a lot.”
She nodded her head in understanding.
“The stories took me away,” he told her. “So I didn’t have to think about what had really happened. My mind was elsewhere.”
“I wish I could do that. I can’t stop thinking about it,” Kiril said somberly. “The look on his face. There was nothing there. No one there.”
Treace thought the best thing he could do was to try to keep her mind off from what had happened. “You want to know my favorite story?”
“Sure,” she replied hesitantly.
She didn’t really want to, he knew that. But it didn’t matter, he was telling it anyway. “It’s just a children’s book, but I loved it. Still do I guess,” Treace admitted.
She sat still, looking into the fire.
“Slither, the giant snake had stolen his way into a nearby town and took Draya, the youngest daughter of their leader, making her his captive. The elder had been trying to rally the men to kill Slither, so Slither took the young girl to ensure the townspeople left him alone. Slither promised to kill the girl if anyone attacked him,” Treace told them.
Moffred shifted closer, presumably so he could better hear the tale.
Treace felt silly telling his children’s tale, but he knew it was for a good reason. “For ten years the townsfolk brought baubles of silver and gold, trying to convince Slither to let the girl go. But Slither wouldn’t listen. He was never going to let her go. The whole town went one last time, trying to convince Slither to let go of the girl. They had ran out of baubles to give as bribes and could only beg Slither to release her. Of course, Slither did not,” Treace went on.
“But during that last visit into the snake’s hole, the youngest son of one of the men noticed something about the hole the snake lived in. The boy, Arden, nearly a man, came up with a plan. Every day he would go to the forest and hunt for deer, rabbits, or anything he could find to bring to Slither. If he couldn’t hunt any game, he’d fish from the river. At first he wasn’t very good at either, but over time he got better. His gifts to Slither became more frequent. Slither, being a glutton, ate everything Arden brought to him.”