Page 29

As he stuffed the last bite of his eggs in his mouth, Merrik mentally chanted, No flirting while washing dishes. He grabbed his plate and fork, set them on his lap, and pushed himself to the sink.

Adry was already there, filling the sink with hot water. “I’ll wash if you want to dry.”

“Sounds good.” Merrik set his dishes in the sink before he grabbed a clean, dry towel, thankful she’d offered to wash. Wet, gummy food floating in dirty dish water just…made him go all itchy, like he needed to shower again.

But Adry knew that, so she’d taken that job instead.

For several minutes, they washed and dried the dishes in silence. Sitting in the wheelchair, he couldn’t reach the upper cupboards, so he stacked those dishes on the countertop for Adry to put away once she finished washing.

Adry sent him a tiny smirk before she flicked her fingers at him, spattering his chest with a few droplets of dirty dishwater.

“Hey.” Merrik flicked the dry towel at her, though he didn’t actually touch her with it. The towel needed to stay sanitary for drying dishes, after all. “And here I was thinking how nice you were to take the job I dislike.”

Adry just smirked wider and went back to washing the last dish, handing it to him to dry.

Once she put away the dried dishes, Adry turned toward the door. “I have afternoon drills today instead of morning and evening ones so we’ll need to hurry if we want any time in the forest.”

Merrik wheeled his chair alongside her toward the door and out onto the front step. Before he shut the door, he called over his shoulder, “I will be back for lunch.”

His mama nodded, but her gaze flicked between him and Adry, a furrow to her brow and a hint of a frown on her mouth. Worried for her son, no doubt.

Merrik shut the door and glanced at Adry, lowering his voice. “My mama suspects something is up.”

“We aren’t good at being subtle.” Adry grinned as she set out along the path she’d worn into the moss next to his root rails.

“You are not good at being subtle.” Merrik pushed his chair forward, the wheels gliding from the step onto a ramp and then onto the roots, as he raised his eyebrows at her.

She huffed and rolled her eyes, giving him a nudge to his shoulder. “Don’t blame all of it on me. You were giving me just as flirtatious looks as I was giving you.”

Right. He couldn’t deny that he’d been just about drunk on his post-kissing happiness last evening and that morning.

“I will confess and swear her to secrecy this afternoon.” Merrik’s stomach gave a twist at that. He shouldn’t be nervous to tell Mama about him and Adry, yet he was.

“Spit handshake or a pledge with hand over heart?” Adry sent him a grin as they neared the end of his root rails in the secluded glade.

“Neither. It will be a perfectly mature conversation.” Merrik gave her a fake glare.

She just shot him that sassy smirk before she sauntered farther into the forest and drew her swords.

Once she was absorbed in her practice, he pulled the peg leg from the bag hanging from the back of the chair and strapped it on. Using a nearby tree, he levered himself out of the chair and onto his foot and the peg leg. After taking a moment to find his balance, he reached for the wooden staff he’d left leaning against that tree the day before. This particular staff could be turned into a pair of crutches with his magic if he needed the extra support.

With the wooden staff in one hand, he took a tentative, shuffling step away from the wheelchair behind him.

As he did, he tried to concentrate on sending his magic down his right leg and into the peg leg. Most of his magic swirled from his hand and down into the staff, but a few tendrils worked their way into the wooden leg.

He split his concentration on his magic and on just taking small, tottering steps across the forest floor. The peg leg didn’t bend like a real leg or a prosthetic, and his left foot still rolled beneath him due to the missing toes and piece of his foot.

He paced only a few yards from where his wheelchair was parked before he headed back.

When he was nearly there, his ankle and foot rolled on a particularly uneven patch of moss. He fell, unable to catch himself with the staff. Instead, he used it to slow and direct his fall so that he landed on his rear end on the moss instead of flopping in a heap on his stomach.

“Are you all right?” Adry halted her practice, her swords freezing in place.

“Fine.” Merrik gripped his ankle and gritted his teeth at the throb of pain.

The sound of swords sliding into their sheaths whispered into the glade a moment before Adry’s boots crunched on the forest floor. He sensed more than heard her drop into a sitting position beside him. Thankfully she didn’t speak, as if sensing he didn’t want empty words right now.

He finally raised his head, though he continued to stare at his legs rather than look at her. “Which leg is my bad leg? Most would call the leg I am missing my bad leg, but the peg is at least sturdy. It will not collapse beneath me like my left leg.”