Page 26 of The Rising Wave

She shivered and looked up at the early morning sunlight. “We need to go.”

He nodded, rose up and held out a hand to her.

When he pulled her to her feet, he tugged her into his arms and bent his head, burying his face in her hair and inhaling her scent.

She tightened her grip on him, and then remembered his ribs.

“Your injuries.” She fought to get out from his embrace, her gaze darting to the bruising on his torso.

“My ribs were bruised, not cracked. There was only pleasure, no pain.” He held her gaze, and while she didn't believe him, he seemed no worse for it.

She sighed. “And your wounds from before? We should change the dressings and wash them, but we don't have bandages or clean water.”

In fact, they would have to find water soon. She was so thirsty, her lips were dry and she could feel the dull throb of a headache.

“We’ll find a stream. We can look at the cuts, rinse the bandages.” He started walking. “But they feel fine. Better than I would have thought.”

It pleased her to think that perhaps the working she had done on the deep cut she had sewn had spread to the others, but she doubted it had.

He was healthy and strong. And there was something other about him. A speed and coordination she thought was a kind of magic in itself.

She had been starved of companionship and human touch for two years, and now she had both, in the form of an extraordinary man.

It would be very hard to leave him.

But leave him she must.

Chapter 7

“What do you mean you can't go with me?” Luc was crouched in the stream, naked in water that came up to his neck.

Ava was equally naked, using the fine sand on the river bottom to scrub at her skin and get rid of weeks of grime, while Luc was simply waiting for the water to soften his bandages so they could peel them away.

The sky above was a deep blue, the water cool, the grass that edged the stream a vibrant green, and Luc's dark hair and light blue eyes were vivid against the warm gold of his skin.

A feel of being bombarded by sensations swept over her. She had had nothing but four stone walls for so long, and the colors, the sounds, the scents in the air, suddenly overwhelmed her.

She held out a hand to stop him saying anymore, closed her eyes and breathed.

“You're all right.” He was suddenly beside her, his arms around her and she pressed into him, letting the pull of the current, the feel of his water-beaded skin, calm her.

“I couldn't take the colors anymore,” she whispered.

“I know.”

She understood that he did know. Had probably struggled with this himself.

“I want to come with you,” she told him, eyes still closed, letting his strength hold her suspended in the water. “But I have to find my grandmother.” And then kill the Herald.

He was still, and when she opened her eyes, his gaze was on her face, serious and thoughtful. “You could send her a message.”

She shook her head. “I don't trust a message. And I want to see her with my own eyes.”

“As soon as I join with the Wave, we are going to have to start moving toward Fernwell. My capture would have already delayed us two weeks by the time I get back, and all the tribes and groups I’ve managed to collect together since we first turned on Kassia will lose some conviction if we don’t progress. I won't be able to wait for you.”

She'd guessed that. And in a way, it was better. She was not simply going to find her grandmother. She planned to hunt the Herald down and kill him, and that could take months. Luc and his army would not have that kind of time. Not with the season already changing, the leaves beginning to turn.

“I will come find you, as soon as I can.”

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