The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles 3) - Page 4

“Which will also slow us down,” Tavish reminded him.

Orrin rocked on his heels. “Hang me, they probably think we’re all dead. I would. No one could ever make it across that demon river.”

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, then shook his head. “Except that we did. And if they don’t find a single body floating anywhere downriver, they’ll know.”

“But even once they cross, they’ll have no idea where we are,” Jeb said. “We could have exited anywhere. That’s hundreds of miles to search with no tracks to follow.”

“No tracks yet,” Tavish warned.

Sven turned and walked over to the fire. I closed my eyes and heard him pouring something from the kettle into his tin cup, then sensed him standing over me. Did he know I was awake? I kept my eyes closed until I heard him walk back to the others.

Their discussions continued as they weighed their options, Rafe arguing in favor of waiting until I was stronger. Was he risking himself and the others because of me?

I mumbled as if I was just waking “Good morning. Rafe, can you help me up?” They all turned and watched me expectantly.

Rafe came over and knelt by my side. He pressed his hand to my forehead. “You’re still hot. It’s too soon—”

“I’m feeling better. I just—” He continued to resist, holding my shoulders down.

“I have to pee, Rafe,” I said firmly. That stopped him. He looked sheepishly over his shoulder at the others. Sven shrugged as if he didn’t know how to advise him.

“I’m afraid to even think of the indignities I may have suffered these past days,” I said. “But I’m awake now, and I will relieve myself in private.”

Rafe nodded and carefully helped me up. I did my best not to grimace. It was a long, awkward, painful process to get to my feet, and putting the slightest amount of weight on my now-stitched thigh sent fiery shocks through my leg and up my groin. I leaned heavily on Rafe for support. My head spun with dizziness, and I felt beads of moisture spring to my upper lip, but I knew they were all watching, gauging my strength. I forced a smile. “There now, that’s better.” I clutched the blanket around me for modesty’s sake, because all I had on were my underclothes.

“Your dress is dry now,” Rafe said. “I can help you put it back on.”

I stared at the wedding dress spread out on a rock, the crimson dyes of many fabrics bleeding into the others. Its weight had pulled me under in the river and nearly killed me. All I could see when I looked at it was the Komizar. I felt his hands running down my arms, once again claiming me as his own.

I knew they sensed my reluctance to put it back on, but there was nothing else to wear. We had all narrowly escaped with just the clothes o

n our backs.

“I have an extra pair of trousers in my saddlebag,” Jeb said.

Orrin gawked at him in disbelief. “Extra trousers?”

Sven rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”

“We can cut away the bottom of the dress so the rest can serve as a shirt,” Tavish said.

They seemed eager to busy themselves with something that would distract them from my more personal task at hand, and began to move away.

“Wait,” I said, and they paused mid-stride. “Thank you. Rafe told me you were the best of Dalbreck’s soldiers. Now I know that he didn’t overestimate your abilities.” I turned to Sven. “And I’m sorry I threatened to feed your face to the hogs.”

Sven smiled. “All in a day’s work, Your Highness,” he said, and then he bowed.

* * *

I sat between Rafe’s legs and leaned back against his chest. His arms circled around me, and a blanket covered us both. We huddled near the mouth of the cave looking out at a mountain range, watching the sun dip between its peaks. It wasn’t a beautiful sunset. The sky was hazy and gray, and a dismal shroud of clouds hung over the mountains, but it was the direction of home.

I was weaker than I thought, and my few solitary steps down another arm of the cave to my requested private moment had me collapsing against a wall for support. I took care of my business, but then had to call Rafe to help me walk back. He had scooped me into his arms as if I weighed nothing and carried me here when I asked to see where we were. All I saw for miles was a white canvas, a landscape transformed by a single night of snow.

My throat swelled when the last glimpse of sun disappeared. Now I had nothing else to focus on, and other images crept in behind my eyes. I saw my own face. How could I possibly see my own terrified expression? But I did, as though I watched from some high vantage point, maybe from the vantage point of a god who could have intervened. Every footstep replayed in my head, trying to see what I could have done—or should have done differently.

“It’s not your fault, Lia,” Rafe said, as if he were able to see Aster’s image in my thoughts. “Sven was standing on an upper walk and saw what happened. There’s nothing you could have done.”

My chest jumped, and I stifled a sob in my throat. I hadn’t had a chance to mourn her death. There’d been only a few cries of disbelief before I had stabbed the Komizar and everything tumbled out of control.

Tags: Mary E. Pearson The Remnant Chronicles Fantasy
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