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***
Seth woke to a sight he had trouble comprehending. The grayish light of early morning was drifting down the narrow slope onto the shelf of rock … where Raider was rolling up his blankets and organizing his gear.
What the hell?
Yesterday, Seth had feared that Raider would die. And now he was packing? To travel?
Seth understood that Raider’s body healed unnaturally fast, but … Raider had been out of his head for over twelve hours. He’d lost quite a lot of blood, and Seth had put sixteen stitches in him yesterday.
Then again, Raider might be busy packing, but he didn’t look like he should be. His hands shook visibly as he lashed his bedroll to his saddlebags. He was moving carefully, obviously in pain, and the dark smudges below his eyes stood out against the pallor of his skin.
Seth, too, had to move carefully as he levered himself up. His left knee was stiff as hell and his right shoulder was black and blue. He also had a few stitches of his own tugging at tender skin.
When Seth finally achieved a sitting position, he regarded Raider’s activity with skepticism. True, Raider had managed to dress himself and was clearly coherent enough to get his gear together. However.
Seth said, “There’s no way you’re—”
“We only have enough food to make it to Aqarat if we get moving,” Raider cut in as he checked his scimitar, which Seth had already cleaned. He didn’t look up. He hadn’t once since Seth woke. “And we need water.”
“We have the alembic.”
“Is that what was so goddamn important you almost got yourself killed chasing it?”
Seth was vaguely aware that he wasn’t awake enough for this conversation, but he found himself answering automatically, “I can’t complete my mission without my gear.”
“Your fucking mission!” Raider slammed down his sheathed blade.
“It’s why I’m here. It’s the whole point.”
“I am well aware of that,” Raider snapped, finally looking at Seth. Glaring at him. “But getting yourself killed for your goddamn arcane shit somewhat defeats the purpose.”
“I was chasing a thief, whom I caught and killed, by the way. Everything would have been fine—if not for that giant fucking snake, which I did not expect. You might have mentioned it, you know.”
“It was dormant and not in our path. It wasn’t relevant—until you risked your life for gear.”
“And my letter of credit,” Seth replied hotly, getting more pissed off by the second, “without which I can’t pay you.”
Raider’s right eye flared gold. “Fuck you.”
Seth wanted to shove to his feet and put some distance between them, but the space was too cramped. So instead he closed his eyes and worked his way through one of his breathing exercises. He made himself think. He was reacting to Raider’s hostility, but none of the things Seth was saying were the things he wanted to say.
What he wanted to say was thank you. Because Raider had not only come after him, he had put himself between Seth and the sand serpent—more than once. (Seth still hated that Raider did that kind of shit, but still. The fact remained.)
What Seth wanted to do was take care of Raider. Who was hurt and clearly in pain.
But while Raider’s nasty mood made the latter feel impossible, Seth could at least choose the words he actually wanted to say.
He opened his eyes. Raider was refitting the scabbard of his scimitar to be worn instead of strapped to a saddle.
“What’s done is done,” Seth said, “and I don’t want to argue about all that. What I want to say is thank you. For coming after me. Without you, I wouldn’t have gotten away from the sand serpent. You saved my life.”
Raider glared at him with renewed hostility. “How else would I get paid?”
Seth swallowed down the hot coal of his temper. He reminded himself that Raider was always shitty in the mornings because he was always in pain. This morning was not only no exception, it was a hundred times worse.
It would be best, Seth decided, if they didn’t talk for a few minutes. So he scooted away as much as the cramped space allowed and started sorting through his own gear. Without a horse, he had to decide what was worth carrying. That would be a good task for him right now. A simple, quiet—
“You’re not going to carry all that, are you?” Raider demanded as Seth sorted his gear into piles. “We don’t need the tent.”
