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Vesper and I gathered firewood while Draven tethered the horses. None of us seemed in the mood for a late night campfire chat. I set up my tent quickly and slid in, pulling the blankets up to my chin.
For once, sleep came quickly.
In the morning, I wokeup with my dagger gripped in my hand, uncertain of where I was.
Then I remembered. I was back in my tent. Back in the Three-forsaken, never ending woods.
For a moment, I felt bizarrely angry that I had not gotten to sleep in a real bed or have a bath in a tub that would cover more than just my ankles like the shallow forest ponds did. As ifthatwere somehow the worst of my problems when I had just killed three men the night before, set an inn on fire, and barely escaped with my life.
Then a whiff of fragrance blew into my tent. The sweetest scent I had ever smelled. All other thoughts flew out of my mind as my stomach rumbled pitifully.
I came out of the tent with the speed of a rabbit and found Vesper already awake and flipping flapjacks over a cast iron griddle.
He gave me a slow lazy grin and my stomach switched from hungry rumbles to pathetic pitter-patters.
“Hungry?”
“I’m starving,” I said, sitting down cross legged in a dry patch of pine needles and holding out my hands for the plate he passed over.
“Good. Your friend over there doesn’t seem to like me much, but he doesn’t seem to have a problem eating what I cook. He finished off the first dozen.”
I slid my fork down the center of a stack of three thick flapjacks dripping with butter, then paused. “Dozen?”
“Dozen what?” Draven asked.
I looked up to see him standing between some trees. He was dripping wet, evidently having just returned from cleaning up. The tunic he had been wearing the day before was slung carelessly over one bare shoulder. It looked as if he’d tried to wash it.
His damp raven hair fell around his face, framing his chiseled features. A day's worth of stubble shadowed his jaw. Somehow, even after being completely incapacitated so recently, he had already regained that dangerous edge he possessed.
As he stood at the edge of the campsite, water droplets cascading down his naked shoulders and chest, I couldn't help but stare. Despite all we'd been through together, I still felt small and vulnerable in his presence.
I forced my head away, then whipped it back as a realization struck me.
That glorious glistening chest had nothing but rivulets of water running down it.
The wound was gone.
I stared. My mouth opened, but as I tried to form words I caught Draven shaking his head at me, almost imperceptibly.
“A dozen what?” he repeated.
“A dozen flapjacks,” Vesper answered, flipping the iron skillet and tossing a golden cake into the air. It landed back in the pan with a delicious sizzle. “You devoured the first twelve I made. I was just telling your friend here.” He paused and looked between us thoughtfully. “Or is she your sister?”
“Sister!” I blurted out. “I amnothis sister.”
“She’s not my sister,” Draven said coldly. “Question time is over. Good breakfast. You can leave anytime. We’re moving on.” He strode over to his bedroll and started packing it up.
“Draven!” I exclaimed. “That was rather rude.”
Vesper shrugged. “It’s all right. The man doesn’t enjoy questions and he doesn’t have a sister. I can leave well enough alone.” He winked at me. “Now as for you. I’ve told you my name. Will you be returning the favor?”
I felt a little of Draven’s suspicion infecting me. “You came to our aid very swiftly last night. We’re grateful. But why did you help us? In a town like that, I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone to come to our rescue. There were so many men. You might easily have died.”
“I don’t die easily.” He popped a piece of flapjack into his mouth, revealing perfectly white teeth. “And I don’t like ambushes. That’s what that was. A sneaky, cowardly ambush.”
I turned to where Draven stood listening. “Do you have any idea who those men were?”
He shook his head. “No.”
