“How do you know we’ll be safe there?” I ask. “Kymora knows you’re involved. Won’t she be able to find your family?”
“I don’t see how she could. I don’t advertise where I’m from. I haven’t told anyone where my family resides, let alone that I have one settled somewhere. Excluding you, of course.”
“What about your surname? Derinor. Can’t she ask around? Is there any chance at all she could track us to Amanor?”
“There’s always a chance. But Derinor is a common surname. And she’d be hard-pressed to find anyone who could point her to Amanor. Besides, if my family is in danger from her, I should be there to protect them.”
We’re only on the main road for another few days before we veer down what looks more like a deer trail than a road. If I thought the forest looked thick from the main road, it’s nothing compared to how it is now that we’re wrapped in it. The trees are so close together that the only path we could possibly take is the already-made trail.
“I don’t like these woods,” Petrik says. “There are bears in these woods.”
“Right, you’re from Skiro,” Temra says.
“The capital,” Petrik explains. “There are no bears there.”
“The capital is right next to the mountains,” Kellyn says. “There are cougars. You prefer those to bears?”
“Definitely,” Petrik answers. “Cougars are afraid of people, and they hardly come into the city. It’s too loud.”
“Not if they’re hungry enough.”
Kellyn takes a strange delight in teasing Petrik. It makes me want to give him a taste of his own medicine.
“Bears are a perfectly natural thing to be afraid of. Unlike vulnerability.” A jab at our earlier conversation.
Temra laughs. “He’s not afraid of bears because he can swing his sword at them. But Kellyn doesn’t know how to protect his feelings.”
We giggle, and Kellyn glowers good-humoredly at the two of us. “Perhaps you should learn to swing a sword, bladesmith. Then you’d be less afraid of people.”
I scoff. If only it were that simple. If only my fear was of them physically hurting me. No, it is my mind that needs to be protected, and I don’t think there is any guard against that.
“Trying to get the attention off you by putting it on me isn’t going to work,” I say.
“Nope,” Temra agrees.
Maybe it’s the seclusion of the forest, but I haven’t felt this good in a long time. We have nothing, and yet, it somehow feels as though we have everything.
Along the way, we pick mushrooms and berries and nuts that Kellyn says are edible. Though they’re not very tasty, they fill our bellies enough. That night, Kellyn assures us no one else will be on the trail, so he and Petrik take turns rubbing a stick between their fingers down onto a bigger stick to make a fire from scratch. We’ve no blankets or anything else, so we clear the ground of rocks and other hard objects before Temra and I lie side by side on our backs for warmth.
“Don’t get any ideas, scholar,” Kellyn says to him.
Temra pats the ground on her other side. “You can sleep next to me.”
Petrik visibly swallows before listening.
“No, come closer,” she says. “How do you intend to keep me warm that way?”
Petrik scoots until he’s pressed up right against her.
Kellyn stands alone by the fire, but I meet his eyes, glance down at the spot beside me, then back at him.
I wasn’t trying to issue an invitation. I was honestly just taking note of where that left Kellyn to sleep. But he sits beside me on the ground before stretching out with one arm behind his head, the other at his side, accidentally brushing my fingers.
I flinch at the contact before forcing myself to relax. It’s not like he purposely grabbed my hand.
Except then he does.
He plays with my fingers, warming them, massaging them. He alternates between sliding his fingers between mine to secure me in a grip and then loosening them to feel my skin.
I can’t look at him. I stare straight up into the treetops and starlit sky.
I could stop him if I wanted. It would be so easy. Just move my arm or roll over and put my back to him.
But it’s also so easy to just be still. To let myself feel the delicious heat from where our bodies touch without my anxieties getting out of control. Because I don’t have to say anything. I’m not being put on display. This is so simple.
Why can’t it always be this simple?