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“You’re most welcome,” Melaina crooned back pleasantly.
I rolled my eyes, then looked up at Quilla. “I barely touched you.”
But she’d already turned away, dismissing me.
“Fine! I’ll leave you alone,” I called, growing irritated. “Far be it for me to worry about my one true love when she’s in the throes of a horrific nightmare. I must be some kind of monster for attempting to comfort you. That was simply barbaric and unacceptable of me. Please accept my apologies for such dreadful behavior.”
She totally ignored my sarcastic regret.
I sniffed irritably and retreated to my “side” of the camp, limping to my bedroll and plopping down with an aggravated groan. My muscles were stiff and sore from sleeping half the night on the open ground. Damn bedrolls didn’t feel as if they padded much, but you could always tell when you went without.
Rolling my shoulders and stretching stiff muscles, I dug through my pack and came up with some supplies to assist with my morning ablutions. Then I dragged myself to my feet, rasping, “Not that anyone cares, but I’ll be back.”
Neither woman responded—Quilla was busy coaxing the fire back to life, and Melaina was dragging cooking supplies from her own pack. They definitely liked to snub me. And they didn’t seem to mind at all if I wandered off on my own, either. Which only made me question the cuffs even more. I honestly think they’d forgotten I was wearing them.
Once I was far enough away and hidden by a small thicket of trees, I paused to pull up a necklace that had been hidden under my tunic. Tucking the pendant on the end of the string between my teeth, I held it steady before lifting the cuffs to the pendant and
popping open the lock.
“Yes,” I sighed in relief and shed the shackles from my wrists. “That feels so much better.” Rubbing the raw flesh, I enjoyed the moment of freedom before exhaling in delight and freshening myself for the day ahead.
Chapter 12
Indigo
When I returned to the camp, with the cuffs secured safely back around my wrists, I felt awake, relieved, and ready to face whatever came next.
Whistling “Singin’ in the Rain” with a smile on my face, I pulled up short, however, at the sight that met me.
Quilla sat before the fire cross-legged as she looped strips of dough around the end of a stick. With her attention absorbed in her craft, she looked absolutely stunning.
Careful to exact each detail of her project just so as she applied the raw loaf to the spit, she then reached into a bag beside her with a free hand and removed a handful of glittering powder that she sprinkled on top.
Culinary magics. It must be an herbal remedy she’d gotten off some other mage to assist with cooking because as soon as the powder hit the dough, it doubled in size. Satisfied with the new dimensions, Quilla hovered her stick over the fiery coals and proceeded to bake her bread.
Returning to my bedroll, I sat and idly put my things back into my pack as I continued to watch her turn the spit, cooking the loaf evenly.
A second later, her gaze lifted to me, her eyebrows furrowed in disgruntled ire. “What?” she demanded.
My staring was bothering her again. Smiling, I bent up a knee and rested my forearms on it, getting more comfortable so I could keep doing exactly what I was doing.
“You’re cooking,” I said simply, amazed by it all. For someone so bitter and angry at the world, her calm patience as she prepared food sat in stark contrast to everything else I’d observed about her so far. So I found this to be an interesting facet of the woman in front of me.
“Not for you,” she muttered, returning her attention to the dough that was already halfway to becoming bread. “Now stop looking at me.”
I chuckled and flopped down on my back to rest my bound hands on my chest. Humming my song again, I gazed up at the brightening morning and enjoyed the tranquil moment. The sun wasn’t yet full in the sky, so the horizon was a canvas of warm colors. I watched them change and shift for a few minutes until Holly, back in the form of a black cat with white paws, leaped onto my chest, demanding attention.
I pet her while she pranced in a circle, kneaded her claws into my chest through my tunic, then curled down into a ball on top of me, and purred in contentment. And together, we enjoyed the quiet sounds of Quilla cooking at the fire and the amazing colors painting the world.
Until a boot kicked my ankle. The same ankle Quilla had stepped on earlier.
“Oww!” I bolted upright, causing a comfortable Holly to screech in protest and scurry away.
Melaina stood above me, in a pure black dress today, with her hands on her hips as she nailed me with a scathing glare.
“What?” I asked, absolutely sure I had done nothing to deserve such a scowl.
“Worthless male,” she sneered, making my eyebrows arch in shock. Motioning around me, she said, “Are you just going to laze around there all day, doing nothing?”
