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As if realizing she’d just been sitting there on the dirt next to me, Quilla surged abruptly to her feet, and turned away from both me and Melaina, dusting herself off before seeing to the horses and taking off their gear for the day.
Holly hissed a tongue at her when Quilla moved too close, and the saddle on her back disappeared before Quilla could touch it. Grumbling under her breath, Quilla moved on, finishing her task with the mare Melaina had stolen from me. And I just sat there, studying the two women as they politely ignored each other yet civilly worked together to accomplish the goals of the day.
Traveling with these two was going to be something else, I realized. Two tempestuous spirits, one trip, and me stuck in the middle. It’d be a miracle if any of us survived.
As promised, I ate my own food—rye hardtack—that went down dryly and painfully, while Quilla and Melaina dined on cheese and succulent-looking fruits, along with some kind of smoked jerky. My mouth watered just watching them, but neither offered me even a taste of their meal.
Didn’t matter. I’d get into their good graces one way or another, and I was sure I’d get their food eventually.
A sane man might want nothing to do with the likes of either of them. But I had a feeling sticking around was going to be worth it.
Someday.
“There’s another settlement a couple of miles in front of us,” Melaina spoke up above the crackling campfire. “We’ll probably need more funds before we head into Tyler.”
“We’re going to Tyler?” I asked.
I knew it.
Quilla nodded to her aunt, both of them ignoring me. “I’ll get up early and ready some loaves.” With an exhausted sigh, she pushed to her feet and held her arms out to her sides like someone would for a tailor who was taking their measurements. “You might as well change me now.”
Melaina blinked at her as if she’d spoken a foreign language. “Change you?”
Quilla frowned. “Yes. Give me a new disguise. Glamour me.”
“Hmm. No, I don’t think I will.”
Quilla dropped her arms heavily. “What do you mean no? I can’t go out in public under my own identity.”
“Yes, I know. That’s why I’ll go and sell the bread tomorrow.”
“The hell if you are,” Quilla exploded, storming over to loom above Melaina. “I’m not staying here to babysit the High Clifter.”
“My name’s Indigo,” I reminded her.
“Well, you can’t go out in public in front of so many people looking like yourself either,” Melaina informed Quilla in a logical voice. “Someone might recognize you or see your mark.”
“I realize that,” her niece gritted out. “Which is why you’re going to fucking glamour me already so that I can go.”
“But I thought you didn’t like vending our wares,” Melaina countered saucily.
“And I thought you agreed he would be your responsibility,” Quilla bit back harshly.
“Except it amuses me to watch you squirm so uncomfortably when your true love looks at you in your true form.”
A dagger appeared in Quilla’s hand. “Don’t ever call him that again.”
“So sorry,” Melaina demurred smoothly, not at all concerned about the threat of being stabbed. “I meant to say your one and only true love.”
Quilla stepped intimidatingly closer. “You’re not leaving me here alone with him. End of discussion.”
Melaina laughed. “What’re you so afraid of? The big, harmless, chained man won’t hurt you,” she taunted.
“I’m not afraid.”
She was definitely afraid. I could feel her fear, plain as day.
“Then what’s the problem?” Melaina taunted, lifting her thin eyebrows. “Certainly you’re not worried he might seduce you onto your back while I’m gone.”
