Stormrise

by Jillian Boehme

  After a while, he sat up, his expression grim. “Sedge and the others will have started by now. Can you keep going?”

  “I can.”

  “We’ll have to sleep at some point, but not yet. Let’s cover some more ground.”

  We traveled until hunger forced us to stop. Nothing but a strip of dried fruit lay in the bottom of Forest’s pouch, and my pouch was gone. We split the fruit, which didn’t begin to satisfy our hunger.

  “It’s as good a time as any to get some sleep,” Forest said. “You rest, and I’ll find us some food.”

  I didn’t argue. Sleep claimed me almost immediately, and when I awoke, the scent of roasted meat curled through my nose and into my rumbling stomach.

  “What did you find?” I asked, sitting up.

  “A hare,” Forest said. “Enough to fill us for a while.”

  The saltless meat was a feast in my mouth. We picked the bones clean, and then Forest lay down for a short sleep while I kept watch. I rested my dagger on the ground and stretched out my legs, listening for the smallest sound of pursuit. None came.

  I woke Forest after about an hour. We did our best to hide the traces of our small campsite, but it wouldn’t make much difference, anyway, since Sedge and the others knew which way we were headed. Forest and I stood for several minutes, studying the horizon, considering.

  “I’m not exactly certain,” he finally said. “If we bear too far to the north, we risk encountering Tan Vey’s troops. But if we travel too far west, we may miss the hold altogether, and have to backtrack and waste time.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The forest recedes the farther we go, which makes it harder to judge.” A nudging in my heart, like the memory of Nuaga’s presence, grew so strong that I had to speak. “This way.” I motioned with my head and began to walk.

  “You’re sure?” Forest fell into step beside me.

  “I am.” And I was.

  We pressed on through the day, covering more ground than I thought possible. At dusk, we came upon the near banks of Lake Lehara. I stood at the edge of the water and gazed at the mountain on the other side. The pass through which Tan Vey’s army would come was visible, a day’s march or more around the lake on this side. There was no sign of them, though, and no sound of a chase behind us.

  Everything was, in fact, eerily still. The wind had died, and the clouds rolled back as the sky darkened, opening us to colder air and the first hint of stars.

  “Let’s get a small fire going while there’s still light,” Forest said. “I’ll hunt.”

  A splash sounded in the water, and then another. “We can fish,” I said.

  “Without bait?”

  I smiled. “You start the fire. I’ll fish.”

  Forest raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”

  I raised my eyebrows in return. Once he’d begun to gather sticks for the fire, I removed my cloak, boots, and socks. The ground was cold and unyielding beneath my feet, and I shivered as I stepped out of my pants as well.

  It wouldn’t be wise to have wet clothing during a cold night.

  I took a deep Neshu cleansing breath to steel myself against the bite of the water. Then I stepped in, gooseflesh spreading across my legs as I waded in up to my knees. I stood perfectly still, the way Papa had taught me. And I waited.

  The first fish nibbled at my toes, as I knew it would. But I was too slow, and it slithered from my grasp. I swallowed my frustration and waited for the water to still. When I looked up, Forest was watching me, his arms full of wood.

  “You’re crazy, Rain L’nahn!” he called.

  I nodded and returned to my fishing.

  It was almost completely dark by the time I brought two fat, flopping fish to the newly lit fire. I tossed them to the dirt and pulled my cloak over my shoulders as I sat with my bare feet to the blaze, drying them.

  “I take it back,” Forest said as he grabbed the first fish. “You’re not crazy. You’re amazing.”

  There was plenty of fish for supper. Forest stored the rest in his pouch, so that we would have something to eat in the morning.

  “I’ll take the first watch,” he said.

  I nodded, unable to ignore the weariness that had crept into every corner of me. The night was cold, though the wind had blown itself out in favor of clear skies with stars that twinkled into infinity. I fell asleep gazing at them.

  When I opened my eyes, Forest’s fingers were brushing my cheek, his face inches from mine. My heart tumbled into my throat, and I lay there, savoring his touch, aching for what could never be.

  “I hated to wake you,” he said softly. “You look so beautiful.”

  No one except Papa had ever called me beautiful. I wanted to rest in the warmth of Forest’s gaze, to feel beautiful. To abandon myself to what my heart desired more than anything.

  But I couldn’t.

  We couldn’t.

  “Willow is more beautiful than I am,” I said.

  Forest’s fingers stopped moving. His face hardened, and his hand fell away from my face. “I’ll never love her, Rain.”

  His words pierced me, not only because my heart wanted what his did, but because I had destroyed my sister’s dearest dream by stealing the heart of her betrothed.

  I sat up and scooted subtly away from him. “We may not survive. Let’s not think about what life will be like if we do, s’da?”

  He nodded and folded his arms around himself, shivering.

  “Take my cloak,” I said, reaching for the clasp.

  “No. I’ll sleep near the fire.”

  “Please, Forest.”

  But he refused and rolled onto his side, facing away from the fire. I waited until he was asleep—then, gently, I laid my cloak over him and sat with my back nestled against his.

  The fire warmed my tears as they slipped down my face.

  * * *

  We set out again before it was fully light, traveling fast, speaking little. Bright sunlight took the edge off the cold air, but there was nothing to take the edge off my hunger. By late afternoon, the morning’s meal of cold fish had long worn off, and we couldn’t afford to waste time fishing in such an uncovered area. I knew Forest had to be feeling it as keenly as I was.

  All day, we’d followed the curve of the lake. Now the land rose sharply to our left, and the shoreline that had afforded us such easy passage was quickly disappearing.

  “We’re better off with a higher vantage point, anyway,” Forest said. “We’ll be able to see Tan Vey’s army from up high.”

  “And they’ll be able to see us,” I said.

  “Not if we’re careful,” Forest said. “Let’s climb now before it becomes impossible.”

  By the time we reached the high ground, my legs were wobbly from lack of nourishment. We sat beneath an overhang to catch our breath and sip some water.

  “No sign of an army,” I said.

  Forest wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “We should have easily beat them here, for how fast we’ve traveled. But we’ll need to keep a sharp watch.”

  I leaned against the rocky earth and closed my eyes. With my stomach gnawing this fiercely, I didn’t know how I would be able to be sharp about anything.

  We continued on, and as the sun drew near to setting, the hold loomed before us. It was built directly into the base of a steep hill, its stone face imposing and impenetrable. From where we stood, it seemed little more than a part of the hill, with no windows or ramparts to distinguish it.

  “It looks abandoned,” Forest said.

  “It’s supposed to look that way.” I tried to imagine a horde of sleeping dragons beneath the hold. Then I tried to imagine waking them.

  “It’s too far to go the rest of the way now,” Forest said. “We need to find shelter for the night. Somewhere warm, because we can’t risk a fire this close to the hold.”

  I knew he was right, but my spirits sank. No food and no fire—how would we wake the next morning with any semblance of strength?

  Nuaga, I mi
nd-spoke. I’m here. Can you see me?

  But silence met me, as I knew it would.

  About an hour later, we had a stroke of fortune. In a crevice of a hillock, Forest discovered a hollowed-out depression that was almost like a cave, except it was shallow and small with no sign that it led anywhere farther underground. At least two-thirds of it was covered by an overhanging of rock, and the space reached back far enough to create a perfect shelter.

  “We can build a small fire in here, if we need to,” I said. “Let’s gather as much kindling as we can.”

  It wasn’t easy to find wood, since trees were thinner up here, but we came up with enough armloads of brush and twigs that, if we were careful, we could use to create a small blaze. I cleared out as much debris as I could from the hollow.

  The first stars were winking to life as we crawled inside. Forest laid a pile of bulbous, gnarled roots on the ground in front of us.

  I wrinkled my nose. “What’s that?”

  “Ptanyan,” Forest said. “It’s a wild tuber, spicy and a little sweet. It’ll fill our bellies for a while.”

  “It doesn’t look edible.”

  “It will.” He took his dagger and shaved off the dirty, hairy coating of the ptanyan, leaving behind wet, purplish things that looked like twisted fingers.

  I was too hungry to care, though, and I bit into one so aggressively that I coughed at its pungency. “Spicy and sweet, you said!”

  “More spicy than sweet,” Forest said. “I didn’t think you’d taste it if I made it sound horrible.”

  It wasn’t horrible at all, once I got used to the peppery-earthy taste. When we’d eaten every morsel, my hunger was strangely satiated, and my fingers were stained purple. We each sipped some water, careful to save enough for morning, in case we couldn’t risk refilling our skin.

  The night grew dark above us, and the cold of the rock at our backs soon seeped through even the warm cloak, which I’d spread behind us. Neither of us was willing to sleep in a breastplate in this small space, despite any added warmth it might offer. We couldn’t afford to wake up stiff and unrested.

  “I’ll make a fire,” Forest said.

  In no time, he’d coaxed a small blaze from the sticks and brush, and our little hollow felt suddenly cozy and safe. He crawled outside to make sure the firelight wasn’t visible.

  “We’re facing away from the hold,” he said when he returned. “The small bit of light peeking out doesn’t pose a threat.”

  I sighed with relief. The fire was small, but it was warm and comforting, and I didn’t want to extinguish it. Forest sat beside me, and I offered half the cloak, which I had unconsciously wrapped around myself in his absence. He hesitated, and I frowned.

  “We need to survive,” I said. “That means staying warm.”

  “Rain, if you only knew…”

  I met his eyes in the firelight, and they burned with a different kind of fire. “Knew what?” I whispered.

  His mouth found mine, a tentative brush of his lips that stole my breath and sent a rush of heat through me like I had never before felt. Then his hands curled around my face, and he deepened the kiss until I thought I would drown in it.

  His breath was warm on my mouth when he drew back, and all I could think about was how I had no idea what I was doing—no idea if I had kissed him properly.

  “I love you.” He spoke the words against my lips. “Whatever happens next doesn’t change that.”

  Somehow my arms were around him, pulling him madly closer as he crushed my lips to his. Our mouths opened, and we melted together as though we were never meant to be two separate beings. Something wild and desperate tore loose inside me, and I lost myself in his kisses, in the tangle of our legs, in the warmth of his hands sliding down my back and finding my skin beneath my shirt.

  The cold, the army, the dragons—everything slipped away like faded dreams. Here, in the warmth of Forest’s arms, in the only moments we might ever have together, was where I wanted to be. Needed to be.

  “So this is why you didn’t mind sharing a tent with her?”

  I thrust myself away from Forest and looked up. Sedge stood in the entryway of the hollow, firelight gleaming on his sword.

  27

  Forest and I scrambled to our feet. Sedge broadened his stance, blocking our exit. His eyes were wild, his mouth sucking in air as though he’d gone rabid. My pulse beat a sharp warning in my temples.

  “You made good time,” Forest said.

  “I ran ahead of the others,” Sedge said, his gaze resting on me. “She doesn’t need you anymore.”

  “Who doesn’t?” I eyed my sword, which was lying in its scabbard at the back of the hollow, next to Forest’s.

  “The dragon.” He took a step forward. “You’re nothing but an imposter. A girl.” He spat on the ground.

  “I have a job to do,” I said. “What you think doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter.” A tremor underscored his words, and I couldn’t account for it. “I’m going to save Ylanda. Not you.”

  “This isn’t about you,” Forest said. “Stand down.”

  Sedge swung his gaze to Forest. “You’re no better than she is. You should have seen Jasper’s face when he realized you’d abandoned your post and gone with her.”

  “You’re the reason I did,” Forest said.

  “Seems to me you have your own reasons,” Sedge said. “Is she good and tight, or has she been around the town?”

  I lunged for my sword, but Forest was faster, swinging to face Sedge, weapon drawn. In one smooth movement, Sedge thrust his sword into Forest’s shoulder. I cried out as a torrent of red bloomed across Forest’s shirt.

  “Stay out of this,” Sedge said. “It’s between the bitch and me.”

  I pointed my sword at Sedge. “I’ve never been afraid of you.”

  “Maybe you should have been.”

  “Stop this!” I stepped forward, weapon poised, forcing him backward out of the hollow.

  “Jasper should’ve taken care of you right away,” Sedge said.

  Our blades engaged twice, three times, but I was off my mark. Sedge knocked the sword from my grasp with his blade, a look of triumph spreading across his face.

  I gave a Great Cry, and taking only a heartbeat to find the correct stance, I shifted my balance and kicked his sword from his grasp. He cursed and crouched to face me, initiating the second stance, back straight, eyes spewing hatred that belied his control.

  “You have no advantage,” he breathed. “I have the power of T’Gonnen.”

  My heart railed against his words, but I didn’t allow him to throw my concentration. I remembered, now, what I’d heard him say about the oil he’d purchased from Madam S’dora. How it made him courageous. How much of the oil had he used?

  “I don’t fight with borrowed courage,” I said.

  Sedge’s rage was barely contained. We engaged, matching each other move for move until my first falter, which he took advantage of with a fast uppercut to my chin. I staggered backward, scrambling to regain my balance and concentration, but he came at me again, blocking my next three moves and pushing me farther from the entrance to the hollow.

  I regrouped and steadied my breathing, forcing myself into the calm required for effective Neshu technique. Almost, I could see Papa smiling and nodding his approval, his words of encouragement flowing through me, steadying me.

  For a while, I had the advantage, effectively blocking a double palm thrust and a well-placed kick. The heat of combat now fully engaging me, I moved from defense to offense, striking at Sedge with every opportunity. Finally he miscalculated, and I initiated a carefully timed two-part move with my knife arm. His block caught me by surprise, but I used my weight to push him off-balance again, one of the tricks Papa had taught me. Immediately, I saw I had regained my advantage as Sedge stumbled slightly backward.

  For half a moment, he stopped, shaking his head. Papa’s words coursed through me: The hesitation of an enemy should be the m
oment of your victory. I waited one heartbeat too long.

  My hesitation cost me, just as Papa had always warned. Sedge gave a Great Cry and brought me to my knees with his knife arm and foot, in a move I knew well and should have been able to avoid. But instead of ending the match honorably, he unsheathed his dagger and came at me with bloodlust in his eyes.

  With a fierce yell, Forest flew at Sedge, knocking him backward with such force that I heard the wind as it was knocked from Sedge’s chest. Forest was on top of him in a moment, dagger raised, ready to strike.

  “No!” I rushed to their side. “Don’t kill him!”

  “He meant to kill you.” Forest held the dagger at Sedge’s neck. “He deserves the same.”

  “Forest, no! Please.”

  For a moment, Forest breathed hard and stared at Sedge’s bulging eyes. Then he dropped his dagger and punched Sedge in the face—twice, three times, more times than I could count—until Sedge lay motionless.

  Then Forest slumped and fell onto his wounded shoulder.

  I sank to my knees at Forest’s side. His breathing came in great, sharp gasps, and he clutched his hand over his shoulder.

  “Let me see,” I said.

  “It’s not too bad.” But he winced as I lifted his blood-soaked shirt.

  “We have to stop the bleeding.” My voice trembled. “I need to take your shirt off.”

  A fresh torrent of blood poured forth as I eased the shirt over his head, then used my dagger to slice it in half. I wadded up half the fabric and pressed it to the gash on Forest’s shoulder. He grunted, his mouth clenched tightly.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “Bind him.” Forest’s eyes were closed. “He’ll wake, and he’ll only attack you again.”

  “I have to take care of you first,” I said.

  He shuddered, and I realized how cold the air was, how completely alone I was with a bleeding man I’d have given my life for and an unconscious man who had tried to kill me. Mama’s warm kitchen and my walk with Willow to the shops of Nandel seemed a thousand lifetimes away. I pressed with both palms on the wound, willing it to stop bleeding.

  When the flow had slowed considerably, I tore the remainder of the shirt into strips and bound the wound. Supporting as much of his weight as I could manage, I helped Forest back to the hollow and covered him with my cloak. Then I returned to Sedge, who lay unmoving on his back, his face battered and bloodied. I fought a surge of revulsion as I scrambled to figure out how I could bind him.