Page 94 of The Silversmith

We sat this way for a while, until my stomach growled again and he felt it, or heard it, or both. He stopped and dismounted the mare so agilely it seemed at odds with his dominating stature.

“I packed us a little food.” I reached into my bag for some jerky.

He stopped me, his hand covering mine. “Are you opposed to making a quick stop?”

“Should we make a stop?”

The sound of his deep, responding chuckle gave me goose bumps. “I didn’t ask if we should. I asked if you were opposed to it.”

I took a page out of his book and responded with a pointed, narrowed stare.

Unfazed, he asked, “Do you know how to swim?”

“It’s winter.”

“Dodging my questions again?”

He fished out the jerky for me and handed me a small bag of red berries Damond had kept frozen from the previous summer, along with my canteen of water.

Before taking an eager bite of jerky, I answered, “I don’t recall having ever gone swimming.”

“Well, I know a place. A hot spring.” Gavin pointed north. A harsh, gray, and watchful mountaintop was visible just ahead. To try and see the top of the mountain, I had to bend my neck all the way back.

“Is it dangerous?”

“Would I take you there if it were dangerous?” he countered, brow raised. “I’m not sending you to those Caves without knowing you can swim.”

“Are there a lot of lakes and pools in the Caves?” I intended it to be a joke, but for all I knew, there could be.

“I don’t know.” He offered me his hand to help me down. I accepted, keeping a firm hold on him until my feet touched the ground. “And I don’t care. No death by drowning for you.”

Just ahead, at the base of that watchful mountain, I caught a glimpse of a small pool covered partially by a cave’s opening. Steam hovered above the clear blue water, enticing us in from the bitter wind and gloomy skies.

“You haven’t been to the Caves?” I asked, dragging my eyes away from that beckoning pool.

“Haven’t had a reason to.” I watched him tie the mare’s halter to the one evergreen tree in the immediate vicinity with leather rope. He relieved her of our bags, slinging them both over his shoulder in one effortless movement.

Feeling so at home with him while riding had given me some reprieve from fretting over my friends, but now with the Caves on my mind…

“I’m worried about them.” I wrapped myself up in my wolf-pelt shawl now that my body was no longer protected by his. “About Caz.”

“They’ll be fine.” He threaded his strong fingers with my free hand and began to move toward the hot spring. “Caz will survive.”

“But his leg.” My eyes burned, even as I followed, taking three steps for every one of his. “He’s going to have a child that he won’t be able to run and play with properly.”

“That child will have a father—a present, living father—because you sent him back, you protected him before anything worse could happen.”

We stopped in front of the hot spring. I folded my arms across my chest and assessed the cave opening framing the intimate pool, the expanse of rock so smooth, it looked to have been purposely built into the base of the mountain.

Swimming—something so relaxed—felt irresponsible and callous the day after my friend was nearly killed in a blast. When people were scared and suffering like that village near Tovick, where we’d buried that poor man. And that little girl…

“It feels wrong to let myself enjoy this.” I fidgeted with the edge of my wolf’s pelt. “When Caz is hurt, when people are scared and fighting and dying.”

“What’s the point of fighting, then, if not for good things?” Gavin dropped our bags to the ground beside the steaming springs. “If you’re willing to sacrifice your happiness for the sake of thousands of people you don’t know, then you deserve happiness most of all.”

“But—”

“Just be here with me, Ella.” He brushed my cheek with his knuckle and removed my green wool cap with his other hand. “Allow yourself to live.”