He stares off toward the trees. “The information…was not easy to find.”
It’s too much for my addled mind. I drag my hands over my face, willing it to clear. “You’re sure I won’t turn—“
“Positive, pet. You’re not going to alter. Do you need anything?”
“But wouldn’t it have been easier if you had let me…”
“That’s not easier,” he says so fiercely I shrink back. That phrase jogs my memory as I remember begging him for death.It’s never easy,he’d said. I don’t know why a sharp sheen of shame hits me, and I dip my head and pick at my nails.
“Do you want some more water?”
I shake my head. He retreats anyway, swiping the canteen from the ground and starting down the rocky bank. I pull my knees up, tucking the cloak carefully around me. Across the river, trees crowd close to the bank line, their tangled limbs sweeping the stream. Birds chirp and sing serenely. The steady thrum of the daemon is gone. Did he heal me of that, too? I cut that thought off as quickly as it comes. It’ll be back.
He lays the canteen against my lap and saunters off, bustling around to collect my wet clothing from the ground. Hanging them on a low-hanging branch nearby he takes to collecting firewood.
“I did put a few wards up. Nothing can pass the perimeter. We’ll be safe here for the night,” he says dropping a bundle of logs near the fire.
“We’re staying here?”
“Until morning. I wouldn’t feel comfortable traveling without magic.”
“How did we…” I turn and search the clearing of trees until I land on Epona tethered to a tree. Compared to the giant trees around her she almost looks like a normally-sized horse. A smile tugs at my lips. “What did you say is wrong with your magic again?”
He lowers himself to his knees to build the dying fire back up. “Magic is not an endless well. There are limits, and I’m very, very close to mine.”
“What would happen if you continued to use it?”
“I would pass out.”
“Has that happened to you before?”
He snorts. “A few times. I’ve gotten a bit better at gauging my limits over the years, but—“ he pauses. “That spell took more from me than I thought it would, so we’ll have to make due for the night.”
I look around the clearing. I’ve never slept outside before. Not sure I’ll be getting much sleep at all. “Your magic will come back though?”
“Yeah, of course. I need to eat and sleep, and I’ll be good as new. Which—you should eat something too.” He stalks off in the direction of Epona and comes back a moment later carrying one of the leather bags that straps to the saddle.
“How far are we from Samore?”
“About six hours ride.”
Six hours,and I don’t remember a minute of it. He drops to the ground beside me, close enough to settle back against the log, and begins plucking parcels out and laying them on the ground between us.
Two canteens, different than the leather-bound ones carrying our water. These ones are a gleaming metal, and he sets them right against the flames. He unravels the fabric parcels, revealing a variety of nuts and dried fruit, and settles it beside me in invitation. Another one has that same sweet dark bread we’d eaten on our journey into Samore, as well as some pieces of dried meat, cheeses, and crackers. An ample amount of food.
“Vera literally chased me to the stables to give me this, and I’m really glad she did. Remind me to thank her when we get back.” He sends me a small grin, and I quickly look away, an uneasy feeling taking root in my gut.
When I don’t immediately start scarfing food down, he turns scrutinizing eyes on me. “You should eat something, pet. You need it.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, eying the food with trepidation. So far…I feel fine, but this voice in the back of my mind nags at me. What if this healing is only temporary, too? What if it didn’t work?
“You’re going to be okay now,” he says like he can sense the trail of my thoughts. I work a swallow as his eyes sear into the side of my head. Picking up a single nut, I bring it to my mouth, chewing slowly and swallowing once I’ve mustered the nerve. After days without, it feels all wrong, chafing against my ravaged throat as it goes down. I hold my breath and wait. Waiting for the stab of pain and convulsive throbbing.
Nothing.
Still uneasy, I pick up a piece of dried fruit this time. It bursts sugary sweetness between my teeth. It’sgood. I continue taking little bits of everything. Sitri eats, too, in a more measured way than he normally does. He’s trying not to hog it all. I know how difficult that must be for him, and the faintest glimmer of a smile tugs at my mouth.
I swear I can feel my strength returning with each swallow, filling and nourishing me. Approval practically drips off of Sitri.
