Page 8 of Revealing Fate

“Kalevar Barringer Kaine,” she said. “Can I call you Barry?”

The smirk died. “No.”

She giggled. “C’mon.”

Kal rummaged through his pack and produced a metal pot. He filled it with water and potatoes, sealed it with the lid, and set it near the unlit kindling. “I was only ever Kalevar Barringer Kaine when I was in serious trouble. If my mother said those three words, I knew she meant business. But I was never, ever, Barry.”

Felíne wasn’t sure if the warmth that lit her chest was from the anticipation of a fire or the rare peek into Kal’s past. Her smile was mischievous. “Until now.”

“You’re impossible.”

She leaned forward sternly, one brow raised. “One might even say…unbarryble.”

Kal lifted his face to the darkened sky, probably praying to whatever god he worshipped for vast amounts of patience.

After a moment, he returned to his pack and grabbed his crossbow and a quiver of bolts. To Felíne, he held out the hilt of a short, sharp knife.

She eyed the blade. “Why do I need that?”

“Because,” Kal said, “you’re starving, remember? You’re coming with me to hunt you a second dinner.”

Oh, he was hilarious. “First of all, a rind of cheese and the crumb of a dry biscuit hardly count as a proper meal. Second,” she pointed at herself. “Sore and tired, remember? I’m not going anywhere.”

“Kitty,” Kal said, using his stern voice, “I’m not leaving you here by yourself.”

She sighed, genuine exhaustion creeping in now that her humor had faded. “I’m not alone,” she argued. “Sig’s here.” The horse’s ears twisted in her direction, hearing his name. “Please, Kal. I’ll be fine. I’ll watch the potatoes.”

Kal hesitated. He obviously didn’t want to leave her alone. But she needed him to. Desperately.

“Please, Kal.”

Kal unshouldered his bow and crouched beside her. “This bar here is your trigger,” he said, indicating the underside of the bow. “To span it, you’ll need this.”

“Span it?”

“To prime the bow for firing.”

Kal showed her how to use a specialized lever to pull the string back over the nut, fit a bolt, and engage the firing mechanism. The lever was only for her benefit. Kal had enough strength to span the bow without it.

“It’s loaded now, so be careful. If you see anyone other than me, shoot first. Ask questions later. I won’t be long.”

Felíne nodded, and he stood. “I’ll be fine,” she assured, hoping that would, in fact, be the case.

“Maybe season the potatoes? I’ll start the fire when I return. And don’t shoot Sig.”

Felíne didn’t have time to think of an appropriate retort before Kal disappeared into the dark. She watched the spot where she last saw him for a full five minutes before getting to work.

Felíne gingerly set the crossbow aside and dug through Kal’s pack. She slid a knife into her boot and slung the half-full water canteen over her shoulder. She dug some more.

Did they really have so little food left? No wonder he wanted to get inside the tree line. Aside from the potatoes, they were virtually out of edible supplies. The forest would offer an abundance of food.

Season the potatoes. Ha!

Felíne ran her fingers along a nondescript inner pocket, its drawstring tied tight. It took a few minutes to work the knot free. Inside, she found several small pouches filled with different herbs. She inspected each. Two were fragrant, but none were familiar.

Felíne knew the medicinal properties of many plants, as well as where to find them, but when it came to simple cooking, she had no idea what herbs paired well with which foods. She tasted each herb, surprised to find that most were tasteless. Her nose wrinkled at the bitterness of the last one.

“I’ll season your potatoes alright.”