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Despite myself, I was impressed. “You could see all of that? Even in the dim light?”
He nodded. “Not sure why it would follow. Especially now that Whitehorn’s gone. If it wanted our food, it would have snuck in at night by now. I think it’s more curious about us than anything. It knows there’s no danger here. Not anymore.”
I wished I’d seen it. But I knew better than to say so. Draven would probably just laugh.
“I’m turning in.” I watched Draven lift his bedroll and blankets off the piebald and walk over to a patch of grass near my tent.
He was wincing.
“What’s wrong?” I demanded with a frown. “Is your wound healing properly?”
“It’s fine,” he said brusquely. “Nothing to concern yourself over.”
I watched him bend over to throw down the bedroll. He was grimacing as if in pain.
“You’re in pain. Of course, it’s my concern. If you can’t ride, then where will we be?” I said in a mocking tone. “Sound familiar?” I hoped I was irking him. “Let me see. Is it infected?”
He looked affronted. “I’m not showing you. It’s fine.”
“Riding on a horse for half the day can’t be good for it,” I said thoughtfully. “Perhaps you should rest tomorrow.”
He glared. “I’m not taking a day off just to rest. I hardly move all day as it is.”
“Fine. Ride all day in pain. Let the nasty wound Whitehorn gave you get infected.” I stood up and started walking over to my tent. “Goodnight. Hope you’re not dead by morning.”
Especially since, if he died, I’d be all alone out here.
With an exmoor nearly the size of a full-grown horse stalking us from the trees.
“It’s not infected. I heal quickly,” Draven snapped. “But...”
“Yes?”
If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said he looked awkward.
“We’re near a village. We should reach it by midday tomorrow. Perhaps a bit later.”
“I see.” Was he going to suggest we take a break? I prayed to the Three the answer was yes, but I was certainly not going to suggest it.
“There should be an apothecary or healer. Perhaps I’ll stop in. See what they say. Get a salve or a tisane or something.”
“A salve? Yes, that sounds wise. You should do that.”
I crawled into my tent, my mind already racing at the prospect of a hot meal in a tavern, a hot bath at an inn, perhaps even a new cloak for mine was quickly turning mildewed and sweat-soaked after weeks spent riding through this primeval forest.
In the morning, I noticedsomething that had nothing to do with Kairos Draven for once.
My hair was changing.
Not significantly. But there was a distinct silver tone where before there had only been a dull, bland gray. Now as I brushed it, I thought I glimpsed a sheen, a shimmer, that had not been there before.
It had only been a few days since I had stopped taking the medicine. Already my appetite had returned, I was sleeping better, and best of all, the horrible headaches had all but ceased.
Now my hair. Was this an unintended side effect?
If so, it was not an unpleasant one. Already my hair looked almost, well, pretty. A pearly silver. I could not stop looking at it. I braided it quickly and reminded myself that not all of the changes would necessarily be good ones.
“We’ll reach the town today.” Draven crossed in front of me, carrying his pack. His face was creased in a frown. It reminded me of myself, when my head had been wracked with pain from the medicine.
