I’ve already won, but I can’t help sticking my victory to him after all the ways he’s pushed me over the weeks. I grab a third arrow and let it fly, knocking a third coconut right from the tree. “I was trained poorly, remember?”
I hook the bow over my chest and turn toward him, my hand extended expectantly. He is already smirking, and my insides tumble, but I can’t stifle my own beaming smile.
It’s probably just the excitement from beating him.
He slides my dagger from his vest and hands it to me. “I’m trusting you not to stab me. Again,” he says.
Trusting me. He’s just admitted he is going to trust me, and this wasn’t just a way to pass the time. He’s actually letting me have my weapons back, without a question.
“No promises.”
My chest swells the moment I hold my dagger again, my fingers grasping the sheath tightly. I turn away so he can’t see any hint of my vulnerability before sliding it into my waistband where it belongs.
“Who taught you how to shoot?” he asks.
“No one taught me. I watched the guar—men…in town…practicing.” I catch myself before saying the wrong thing, and risking giving my title away. Coming off the excitement of beating Weston at his own game caused me to get too comfortable, and I almost revealed too much. I push past the stumble and hope he didn’t catch it. “I picked up a bow one day and really liked it. It helped me clear my mind and focus on something I could control. So I just kept doing it. I got better with practice.”
“Your parents didn’t teach you?”
I pause for a moment, trying to find the right words and determine how much I want to give away. Knowing a little about my family shouldn’t give him any power over me, no matter which way I look at it, so I decide to go with a partial truth.
“I lost my mother, and my father and I don’t really speak.”
“At all?” His brows draw together.
“Only when he needs something from me.”
He doesn’t seem happy about my answer. His only response is silence as he looks back toward the waterfall.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says. “I’m sure that was not an easy childhood.”
“Are you, orwereyou, close to your parents?”
It’s only fair that I get to ask the same question of him, especially since I’m still trying to determine if he is really being genuine or if it is all just an act.
“My father and I were close, but obviously not recently. I lost my mother too. That was a long time ago.” He leans forward, resting his forearms on the rail, his hands clasped out in front of him, but it’s his stoic face I watch.
He answered the question, but didn’t give up anything else, the same as me. Having something in common with Weston makes me feel off balance, like I’m teetering toward belief and trust instead of the vast hatred I felt when I was first taken. The tiny voice in the back of my head still wonders if he is being authentic, or if he concocted this commonality just to tug at my empathy.
I kick the toe of my boot into the floorboards, anything to get rid of this nervous energy from his revelation. I have no way of knowing how much time has passed, and I don’t want to sit in uncomfortable silence until we return to the ship. I clear my throat, and try to return to the light-hearted unexpected emotion welling up there and change the topic again.
“You could have just given me the dagger back, you know. You didn’t have to embarrass yourself in the process.”
His smile returns, but his eyes stay trained on the mountain. “I could have, but it was more fun this way.”
“I just can’t wait to get back and tell everyone what a horrible shot you?—”
“Quiet,” he hisses, holding out his hand toward me.
I stop talking automatically and walk over toward him, leaning in to see what made him so on edge.
Storm stalks down the main path, heading to the stone bridge, his crossbow loaded and drawn, as if he’s waiting for some kind of confrontation. He seems more on guard today thanhe did when we saw him and Dane a few weeks ago. I wonder if he is still searching for the healing waters, or if he’s searching for us.
Us.
Am I included in that collective now?
Weston and I watch as Storm hops off the bridge on the other side and follows the path around the lagoon before he disappears into the forest.
