Page 34 of The Seeker

She nodded, ducking around the corner to knock on the door.

She returned, a water skin slung over her shoulder, and something wrapped in cloth tucked in her arms. She held it out to me. “They insisted on giving me a loaf of bread as well.”

I accepted the bundle, clasping the cloak around my neck and struggling to find a convenient way to carry the bread before finally settling on tucking it under my arm. The menses cloths were easy to fold into my pocket. “What did you tell them?”

Ena was working to wrap the water skin strap around the handle of the sword to make it easier to carry. “Nothing I didn’t have to. Just said we were headed into the mountains and needed a water skin.” She held her hand over her eyes, peering at where the sun was setting behind the mountain range directly in front of us. There was still the occasional sound of fighting drifting on the breeze, but it would end soon, likely as the sun descended and it was too dark to discern friend from foe. “They needed the coin.”

I rubbed my hands together. I’d once been desperate, too. “We need start moving. They will know I’m missing soon.”

“They probably already do.” Ena started walking, her steps appearing small in the expanse of land we had to cross before starting our ascent. I fell into step next to her, matching her stride with ease. “We need to travel as far as possible tonight. I doubt they will venture into the mountains unprepared.”

She didn’t mention how unprepared we were, but she didn’t have to. We both knew.

We traveled the first portion in silence, both of us tensing any time there was the sound of grass crunching, or a buzzing of something flying overhead. But each instance was an animal—nothing nefarious—and soon we were ducking under the protection of trees at the base of the mountain, though they did lessen our ability to monitor our surroundings.

This forest was different from the one that contained Salheim—stretching between Malheim and Ralheim. The vegetation offerings were both familiar and strange, and I winced as the vials clinked together in my brassiere.

“Ena.” I broke the silence in the final hours of twilight. “I have some potions on me.”

She cocked her head to the side, not slowing her pace. “Fun ones?”

I shook my head. “No. I’ve been giving myself a low dose of poison every day.”

“Why?” she asked, surprised, but there wasn’t a hint of fear in her tone.

I stepped around a large boulder. “Did you ever see the book of whispers Hansen had?”

She was pensive, then, “No, I think I would have remembered that.”

“You would have,” I assured her. “I read it to him a while ago, before his death. The power is . . . overwhelming. I had to sever it the first time I read it.”

Ena said nothing, my empathy gift finding no surprise coming from her—a sign her education of Seid magic far exceeded my own. “Then I heard a . . . rumor . . . that it was actually a mind-reading book and that the close proximity of so many voices⁠—”

“Overwhelmed you when you first read,” she finished for me. Her knowledge of Seid magic always surprised me.

“Yes.” We came upon a large log—a massive tree likely felled in the last storm. I looked in either direction, trying to see if there was a way around it.

Ena didn’t even pause. She squatted down, her hands clasped together to form a step. “Here, I’ll boost you.”

My hands shook as I followed her directions, but my nervousness was unnecessary as she boosted me up with ease. Under different circumstances, I would have enjoyed the breath of weightlessness I experienced when my foot was propelled from her hand before my hands found purchase to guide me to the top of the log, the bread tucked under my arm.

Once on top, I crawled down a few paces, to a flatter portion indented in the wood, before setting down the bread and reaching for Ena. I grimaced as I struggled to pull her up. Although I was able to, I did notice how out of shape I’d become in my months of no activity, living with Leif.

Ena didn’t stay on the log, dusting herself off before grabbing the bread and sliding down the other side. She made it look so easy, but when I tried to do the same, I crashed into a heap on the ground.

Of course, Ena was already there, hand out to help me up, when the breath finally returned to my lungs.

“You’re way too good at this,” I commented with a huff as I attempted to dust myself off.

“I told you; I grew up in these woods. Now, back to the story.”

I made a mental note to find out more about her childhood and how she’d come to the palace later. “Well . . .” I ducked under a low-hanging branch, noting it was a northern pine, uncommon in the Heimland forest. “I had this theory that . . . I remembered when you rescued me before, how when I was in a lot of pain and struggling to survive, the magic seemed to dim or disappear entirely. So, I thought if I poisoned myself a little, just enough to numb my senses, that it might help me be able to use the gift without going crazy from the incessant whispering.”

“And?” she prodded, her hand coming out to help guide our path now that it was fully dark.

I let out a breath. “No luck yet. It’s only been a few days, though. I have a mental wall around the power for the time being.”

For the first time, I felt a wave of shock come from her. “You’re able to . . . self-contain the power in the meantime?”