Page 62 of The Seeker

For later.

The days blended together as we crossed the rugged terrain. It was always the same—wake early and train with Askel, have breakfast at dawn, then walk until we dropped into our bedrolls the following night.

Otho appeared to have given up on Ryle returning, or he’d taken my words to heart and knew him returning likely wouldn’t be good for us, as he no longer took it slow, urging us to keep our pace up.

Although we had little time to explore the new, physical side to our relationship, we did practice sending each other thoughts from time to time. Otho never accidentally sent thoughts my way, but I did occasionally make a mistake, though I was learning how to better keep the thoughts I wanted private, behind the ever-extending brick wall in my mind.

I still hadn’t confessed my mixed feelings about Leif’s death. I was so scared of accidentally projecting those thoughts that I shoved away any feelings about my deceased bonded the moment they bubbled up. Which was easier said than done, as my hand would often drift to the scar on my palm whenever I allowed my mind to wander.

But there was another problem that was more prominent than hiding my feelings for the death of my ex, and that was the fact that I had been unable to access the dream space ever since meeting Otho in the woods. And we’d tried several times.

We usually attempted it after dinner, when the men drifted into their tents for some quiet time and Ena disappeared into the woods with Askel. I’d been meaning to ask her if she needed a contraceptive potion, but I hadn’t had the chance yet—not with so many of our conversations focused on training, or her finding more belladonna for me. Regardless, when I sat on the ground facing Otho, resting my hands in his as I tried to allow my mind to drift, I never ended up in the dream world.

“I can hear your thoughts from here,” Otho grumbled.

“Can not,” I argued back, peeking through my eyelid at his still form.

“I might as well be able to. You need to quiet your mind, Runa. Relax. Let the dream world come to you.”

I frowned. Every time before it had been so easy to end up there with Otho; I didn’t understand why I was having such trouble now. “Can’t you just look for me? See if you see Collum anywhere around?”

Otho sighed. “Runa, you know it doesn’t work that way. I don’t know your cousin well enough to call her to me when I enter.”

“What about Friar? She was the last person who knew where she was. Call Friar to you and ask her if she knows Collum’s location,” I insisted.

A stab went through my chest and my eyes snapped open searching for the source of the pain. There was nothing there, just the quiet of the forest, Otho, and the four tents surrounding us. I reached up and rubbed at where the stabbing sensation had been.

When I looked back, Otho’s eyes were pleading with me. “I already did, Runa.”

My mouth dropped open. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because . . .” He shook his head. “She hasn’t seen her since the day Malheim fell.”

My emotions surged at his admittance, and I jumped to my feet, my flight instinct kicking in. This time, Otho didn’t try and stop me as I darted away and ducked into the trees, my breath coming in gasps.

I didn’t go far. First, because it was dark, and second, because I knew I needed to learn to handle my emotions better, especially seeing as we were only days away from my meeting the king. At that thought, I sank to my knees, brushing my hand over the dark, soft soil.

“Where are you, Collum?” I asked the air around me in a whisper. A slight breeze blew tendrils of my hair from my face, but there was no audible response. “If only I could get to the dream space,” I mumbled to myself.

“Are you okay?” The words came from over my shoulder and I turned to find Askel standing there, looking far too aware for my talking to have pulled him from his tent this far from our camp.

“Did Otho send you?” I asked as realization sank in.

He didn’t answer, but he moved toward me, sinking down to sit next to me, which was answer enough. “Otho really struggles with expressing his emotions.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I joked, but neither of us laughed. I dug my fingers further into the soil. “I’m not very good at it either,” I admitted.

“What do you mean?” Askel asked. “You seem fine when it comes to asking for what you need.”

“It’s not that.” It was hard to breathe, my chest tight even though I’d left my vials of belladonna in the tent. “I’m . . . afraid, often, that my emotions will anger or…inconvenience others.”

Askel motioned for me to continue, but I knew I needed to approach the subject a different way.

“It’s like you with . . . magic. How do you voice what you want when you know Otho is against it?”

He scoffed. “I don’t.”

“Then we are the same then.” I sighed.