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The rest of the journey was a bit of a blur. As hard as I tried to concentrate, the darkness seemed to creep in around the edges. I scented the telltale signs of fresh water and the rush of a waterfall in the distance. But in those hazy moments, Olly’s firm fingers were an anchor, guiding me to safety.
“Stay with me, Zo,” she breathed, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “I see…something.”
Somethingturned out to be a hollow at the base of a trickling waterfall, large enough for us to sit upright. Olly let me lean against a buttress tree while she scoured the area for predators and raked through the earth to clean it as best she could.
When she led me to the makeshift shelter, I was grateful to be off my feet. The feeling soon returned to my left thigh as I sat at the entrance, watching Olly grunt and sweat as she rearranged the foliage around the hollow. While they had stood in a natural fan shape before, as Olly pulled on the soil, dragging them closer and closer to the hollow, and they became a natural shield.
The blue veins at the back of her hands stood out in stark relief as she fell on the ground, panting up a storm.
But it was done. She had created a somewhat safe shelter for us—for me.
I began the arduous process of peeling away the blood-soaked fabric from my thigh, wincing as the wound gaped open without the support of the makeshift tourniquet.
“Wait,” Olly said, crawling over on her hands and knees. “Let me help.”
“You’ve done enough,” I assured her, trying to keep the pain from my voice. “Rest. You need your strength as well.”
A small smile played at the corner of her lips as she knelt next to me.
“Don’t underestimate me, Zoei,” she tutted. “I’m stronger than you realize.”
Yet the veins on her arms hadn’t abated, and when her fingers touched my skin, they were too cool for comfort.
“You’re pale,” I said, stilling her hands. “You overexerted yourself. Sit down, Olly.”
She only rolled her eyes and pulled her hands away from my grip.
“Since when do you care?” she questioned, gently peeling back the drenched fabric and balling it up in a corner. I watched a wave of soft soil rise and cover the blood-stained material, masking the distinct scent from prying noses.
I care. I’ve always cared.
Perhaps a little bit too much.
It was the only answer to the unjustified anger I’d harbored in my chest for the last two days.
It had begun as a massive gash across my heart the moment I’d seen the earth enchanter symbol on the dagger that the assassin held. The open wound spilled blood and poison when Ronan had pulled red hairs from Purrscilla’s grip. The clean cut had festered with anger and hatred andbetrayaluntil it spewed forth venom everywhere in its path, hurting people that did not deserve to be hurt.
And now…
Despite the rift between our families, I’d always considered Olympia an ally, despite my father's outward hatred of the Summerstreams. He’d taught me many things—some of them just, and some, like the inherited anger towards our southern neighbors,unjust.
As Olly knelt before me, pale and shaking while placing my needs above her own, I knew I had wronged her.
I had leapt to conclusions fueled by my father’s inherited anger—but none of this was anyone’s fault but mine.
I should have believed her. Olympia, with her cool-headedness and calm demeanor, had none of the traits required to order a hit on someone. That would have been glaringly obvious if the monstrous cocktail of anger and betrayal hadn’t eclipsed all rational thought.
Perhaps I was truly the emotional monster Olympia always claimed I was. While she, on the other hand, waited idly by with a pail of water to douse my heady emotions before they boiled over like a bubbling cauldron.
We would make an interesting pair, she and I.
“So,” I began, lifting my thigh a little so she could wind the broad scrap of torn tunic over the open wound. “With the way you’re trying to keep me alive, I gather you didn’t try to have me killed?”
She glanced at me sharply, a mix of emotions darting across her features. Her hair had come loose, framing her pale cheeks as her forehead tensed and relaxed with each passing breath. Several streaks of dirt marred her skin, and if I squinted, perhaps I could bring myself to believe we were nothing but dirty little pups running about the gardens causing trouble.
“Good,” she said, breaking the silence. “You finally understand the truth. Because, Zo, and I mean in the nicest way possible, you’re not handsome enough to bethatstupid.”
“I deserve that.”
