Page 83 of Echoes of the Raven
“What about a… boyfriend?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t mention one.”
He smiles, looking satisfied.
“Um, I think she’s a pickpocket,” I say.
“What? Are you serious?”
“Yes. On our way back from Alsur, we stopped in a small town. She pretended to bump into a man, and the next thing I knew, we were running. He called us thieves and yelled for the guardias. It turns out she took his money bag.”
Instead of looking concerned, Jago seems amused. “I guess I better hold on to my valuables.” He laughs.
“I don’t think it’s funny. I think it’s dangerous, and one day she’ll get caught.”
“And then she’ll hang, unlike you and me, no matter who we murder.” There’s sarcasm in his tone, but we both know it’s not far from the truth.
In our realm, not everyone gets what they earn, and not everyone gets what they deserve. I wish I could change that, but it’s unrealistic, given our greedy human nature. I smile sadly to myself. It seems I might grow up to be a philosopher.
That day, we don’t stop for a midday meal. Instead, we ride until late afternoon, then find a place off road to eat dinner and sleep. The sun hasn’t fully gone down, and the sky is tainted in beautiful colors that soothe my mood. A river runs nearby, the sounds also calming my senses. Once more, we stay away from the rest of the troop. Rífíor tends to the horses, making himself useful. Gaspar seems grateful for the help, and immediately starts cooking, claiming a hunger big enough to eat a dragon.
When I offer to help Esmeralda chop the vegetables for Gaspar’s soup, Jago, who only enters a kitchen to pilfer freshly baked rolls, promptly volunteers to lend her a hand instead.
Stepping aside, I find myself idle, my attention promptly ensnared by Rífíor’s lithe, graceful movements. The muscles in his forearms flex as he removes the horses’ harness and pats their necks. His trousers tighten over his backside as he bends to check their hooves. When he catches me looking, I pretend disinterest and bend down to tie my already tied boots. I mumble curses under my breath.
Calierin and Kadewyn are supposed to be keeping an eye on the surrounding areas, ensuring no guardias are near, but I don’t fully trust them—no matter what Niamhara thinks. I wouldn’t put it past Calierin to betray us.
Planning to do my own reconnaissance, I glance around, searching for an easy-to-climb, tall tree. After a quick scan of the woods, I spot the perfect one across the clearing. I pass in front of Rífíor as I make my way there, but I keep my gaze straight ahead. I feel his attention on me,almost like a touch.
Doing my best to ignore him, I reach the tree and begin climbing, easily finding handholds to pull myself up higher and higher. If there is a tree within Nido’s walls that can be climbed, I have climbed it. When I was little, it was one of my favorite pastimes. I could outdo anyone, including Jago, who was very careless and willing to try anything just to beat me. However, he simply didn’t possess the skill. He used to joke that Mother’s ancestors were monkeys. I whacked him in the head with a stick for being so rude and spent an hour kneeling in a corner because I drew blood. Nana’s punishments were ruthless sometimes.
Before long, I find myself at the top of the tree about forty feet off the ground. From my vantage point, I can see everything. I see the skyline, dancing with different hues of orange and pink. I see parts of the road we’ve been following, meandering around patches of forest and steady heading west. I see the rest of the troop some distance away, busying themselves with their own tasks to procure dinner and care for the horses. I see the river we heard earlier. It gurgles with clear water and runs across the land in very much the same way as the road.
What I don’t see is our friends, Calierin and Kadewyn. Not that I expect to. They’re meant to stay hidden, unnoticed. So I guess that’s a good thing, as good as the fact that I don’t see any guardias either.
After I’m satisfied with my surveillance, I find that I don’t want to get back down to earth. I’d rather stay here closer to the clouds, the fresh air caressing my face and stirring my hair. Inevitably, my thoughts steer toward Amira. I grab a hold of The Eldrystone and wonder how she’s doing, what she’s thinking. My chest tightens with a mix of emotions.
Will she let me explain myself when all of this is said and done? Will she even want to see me? Will she think of me as a friend or an enemy? Will her eyes hold the same sisterly love it always has? Perhaps I’m being too hopeful with these questions. Perhaps a better question would be… will she allow me to live or decree my execution?
I shake my head, trying to chase the thoughts away. I shove them in a separate corner of my mind and draw the curtain closed. I’ve shoved many things in there lately. For the longest time, that room only existed to hold memories of Mother’s death, but recently, there’s been no shortage of troubling matters that also need to be stored away.
Turning my back on that hidden room, leaving behind the horror of my parents’ deaths, Bastien’s betrayal, Calierin’s torture, and all the questions about my sister, I focus on nothing else but the peaceful swaying motion of the trees and the distant gurgling of the river.
After some time of quiet contemplation, a splashing sound captures my attention. I glance in its direction to find someone bathing in the river. No, not just someone, Rífíor. He has jumped in, clothes and all. I can tell it’s him even from up here. His jet-black hair and wide shoulders are unmistakable.
“About time,” I murmur. The smell of dungeon inside the wagon was getting unbearable.
From the safety of my perch, I watch him swim to and fro. He seems at ease in the water. In fact, he seems to fit right in with nature, as if he couldn’t possibly belong anywhere else.
After a good soak, he rubs vigorously at his clothes without taking them off. After thoroughly scrubbing them, he walks to the shore and removes his shirt. Twisting it, he expresses all the water, then hangs it from a branch. The perfect lines of his chest ensnare my gaze, and I find myself admiring the expanse of smooth skin, and the ridges and valleys of his abdomen that narrow down to his waist, where a trail of dark hair disappears under his trousers. I catch my lower lip between my teeth, telling myself I should look away.
He proceeds to remove his pants then.
You definitely should look away now,Val.
But I can’t. I’m hypnotized and suddenly reliving that night we spent together. The tip of his tongue running along my upper lip. The press on his body on top of mine. The silver scars across his chest.
“Damn, is there anything about you that won’t make me lose my mind? … This is not about altruism, Princess. I want to fuck you. This night, you are mine.”
