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“Me, too.”
I glance over at Marilynn stirring more of the milky concoction for Dessin’s back. Her features are soft yet striking. Shiny red hair, plump cherry lips, a face of freckles, and sapphire blue eyes that seem to hold so much knowledge. I had a weird feeling about her when she joined us on this voyage. Maybe I should have trusted my instincts.
“She’s a good person,” he claims warily. “I’d stake my life on it.”
“I’m not sure I would.”
Marilynn tries not to glance over at Niles, but I can tell it’s hard for her. If she is a traitor, could it be that her feelings for him are being faked? Is she acting?
“You know our first night here, I woke up in a blinding pain from my burns. Marilynn didn’t sleep that night because she put pressure on certain parts of my foot, relieving the pain for me so I could sleep.” His brow pinches, and he rubs his eyes with a rushed exhale.
My heart gives a violent thump, and I gawk at him in surprise.
“I—I didn’t know she did that,” I say breathily.
Why would she do that for someone she didn’t know? Was that all a ploy to get us to trust her? But if so, why wouldn’t she share what she did with the group? Why be modest and keep it to herself?
“I can’t believe she’s a traitor. Kaspias had to be lying.”
“Okay.” I pat his knee. “Kaspias was lying.”
Niles nods with a sniffle, and I know there must be more to his mood.
“Is there something else that’s bothering you?” I ask.
Niles’s attention is fixed squarely on the dirty floor under his feet. There’s a sudden weight of sadness that drapes over his eyes, carrying a thick sheen of unshed tears. It begs for the bittersweet, chest-opening release that comes from finally crying.
“I miss Chekiss,” he whispers thickly.
Damnit. Hot tears well in my eyes, too. “Me, too.”
“We’re his kids, you know that, right? He’s probably so scared, Skylenna. What if he thinks we’re all dead?” A strained sob breaks free of his tight hold.
“No.” I shake my head fiercely. “He knows we’re alive. He has to.”
Niles covers his eyes with one hand, silently crying to himself. “I just want to give him a hug.”
The tears overpower my lids, streaming down my cheeks. The heartache is tangible, a dull and quiet pain in the pit of my stomach. I’m afraid if I stay here too long, thinking about falling into Chekiss’s arms, the grief might swallow me whole.
“We’re going to see him again,” I mutter wetly.
“Yeah,” Niles agrees.
A soft pressure appears on top of my head, and a pair of hands pull my long hair back over my shoulder. A subtle breeze carries his familiar scent of cedar, reminding me of our days under the Red Oaks. Our adventures traveling through the forests of Dementia.
A final tear slips from my left eye as he sits next to me, wiping that tear away with his thumb. I smile sadly at his gesture, sliding my hand into his as he studies the glistening tracks of tears that run down my cheeks.
“I’m not crying, I had something in my eye,” Niles argues to literally no one.
“It’s okay, Niles. I miss Chekiss, too,” Dessin says softly. So soft, so kind, so gentle.
“You do?” Niles arches an eyebrow in suspicion.
“Yes. And you can cry in front of me. I’m not Dessin.”
My head perks up, turning to the tall man sitting next to me with wide, glossy eyes. I study his easy posture, his tender eyes, his caring expression.
“No…” I gasp, my heart doing a dance of cartwheels in my chest.
