Aida shuffled closer on her knees, nothing more than a squeak escaping her lips when he hauled her to her feet and slung a heavy arm over her shoulders. Tugging her along with him, he used both sword and Aida as support as he moved them toward the dappled shade at the side of the road.
Pausing just within the tree line, Er’it turned and looked up and down the road, his lips thinning as he glanced down at the arrows before he went deeper into the trees with Aida snug against his side. Kal followed in their wake, picking a path through the greenery. When the road could no longer be seen, Er’it fell back against a thick tree, rubbing his thigh above the heavy shaft.
“Did they feed you?”
“Yes.”
Er’it grunted, looking around the shadowy space. The rot and blight weren’t so bad here, but it didn’t seem a good place to rest to Aida’s eye. Teeth worrying at her bottom lip, her gaze darted between Er’it and the twisted oak with the split trunk. She knew this tree, had passed by it more than once as she fled whatever had chased her through the forest before she stumbled upon Rhyn and his people.
Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she let it out on a rush of speech. The mess of syllables scarce made sense as she blurted out, “There’s a spring just a little farther ahead through those bushes.”
“Spent the night with a band of thieves, and now you know the forest?” The reminder of what happened sparked his anger anew, the scorching rush of it let loose when he snatched up Aida’s arm and yanked her to tiptoe so he could growl in her face. “What else did they teach you after you ran off into the night with them?”
He didn’t wait for her response. Shoving her ahead of him, he prodded her between the shoulders with digging fingers as Aida stumbled her way through the bracken and stinging lashes of limbs. Aida guided him and Kal until they heard the burbling sounds of the small creek, and then Er’it took the lead, though he kept Aida close with a hand shackling her wrist. Unable to wish him pain even as he hurt her, she kept up as best she could so as not to strain his injured arm.
Next to the stream, Er’it shoved her to the soft growth. Standing over her, he looked around the forest, brows scrunched tight over the bridge of his nose. Amber gaze darkened to brooding rust, he exhaled hard and leveraged his body down to the ground. Not being half so careful of his wounds as Aida would like, he knelt beside the babbling water to splash it over his face and neck before drinking it from his cupped palm.
“Waiting for an invitation, princess?” Er’it snorted, humor ripe with contempt.
“I’m not thirsty.” A bald lie, it still slipped across her tongue as natural as anything.
“Drink, woman. We’re going back to the road as soon as you do.”
“But they might—”
“I will not explain my actions to the likes of you!” Grabbing her arm once more, he dragged Aida down the gentle slope to the short bank of the stream. “Now drink or I will put your head under until you do.”
“You won’t.” Aida could scarce blink as her eyes went wide and round. Staring up at the gleaming topaz of his eyes, she found herself holding firm. Voice a bare whisper, she added, “You won’t chance killing me before you are ready to.”
“What makes you think I’m not ready?” Er’it asked with a vicious sneer, uninjured hand tangling in the strands of her ratted curls.
“You’re weakened,” Aida murmured, laying a hand over his wrist, not struggling, not pushing. The simple touch sent a jolt of fire blazing through her veins, one that he felt just as much as she did. She knew he did by the way his skin prickled under her fingers, his eyes first going wide then narrowing to cruel slits. “We’re not at the ruins of wherever I come from, either. It has to be there, does it not?”
“They say only the place of power. It could be anywhere—”
“No. It has to be my home. The place of my birth,” Aida said, conviction slipping through her quiet words from a deep well of calm she never knew existed.
“How do you know?”
“I don’t, not completely. Will you chance it? Risk everything for a fit of temper?”
“Then drink and do not force my hand.” Er’it leaned back, though he kept her hair in a tight grip. Head canted, eyes searching, he tried to delve deep into her gaze, searching for whatever it was that caused her to speak to him so.
“Then let me go.” Aida twitched her head, pulling at the clump of curls he held tight against her scalp.
“Never,” Er’it murmured, something bright and hot speeding through his golden gaze before he hid it away once more. Shifting his grip, fingers stretching to catch more of her hair, he held it at the back of her head in a tight tail. “Now drink.”
It was a victory, however small, and it made her heart soar. Blood quickened to pound at her temples as she set hands shaking with the rush against the soft bank. Flush and hot, she bent over the water to scoop it to her face with both hands. Scrubbing away the grit and salt, she felt cleaner than she ever had as the chilled water trickled down her chin and neck. Taking deep draughts from her palms, she would have kept drinking had he not given her hair a faint tug. Pulling her back, his grimy thumb swiped at the beads of water at the corner of her lips.
“Not too much. You’ll be sick otherwise.” Hand moving to her shoulder, he rose and looked toward Kal. Helping her up instead of yanking her upright, Er’it walked them the short distance to where the great animal stood gulping down the sweet water.
Pulling a clump of grass free from the bank, Er’it began wiping the thick patches of drying white foam from Kal’s soft coat. Murmuring to the Phylix in their lilting language, he skimmed the bunched blades over his hide until it was smooth once more. With a rough pat to Kal’s back, Er’it returned to Aida and started them back the way they came.
“Please, is there nothing I can do to help your wounds?” Aida asked in strangled tones when Er’it hissed, an unseen branch having caught the arrow jutting from his thigh.
“Quiet.” He invited no further discussion, tugging Aida along when she tried to slow for his benefit.
Watching from the corner of her eye, she saw him flexing his fingers over and again, shaking his hand out as if so far down the limb pained him. Sable brows knitting, she turned her focus to his thigh to find the thick bands of muscles there twitching in sporadic fits.
