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We had funds, but traveling inconspicuously meant supply stops were rare, which made every ounce of tea precious. Not once in the past three days had my best friend poured a cup for himself, whereas Cadence and I had moaned and groaned in relief with each sip.
My tongue felt parched. As nightfall pushed a chill through the trees, the aromatic liquid tugged at me.
I glanced away. “I am not thirsty.”
“You sure?” Eliot tempted. “It’s mighty nippy tonight.”
“I’m not cold either.”
“Such a bullshitter.”
My head swerved toward him. “I have Autumn in my veins—”
“So you’ve reminded me. Numerous times.”
“—and I do not require creature comforts. As a citizen of this nation, I can handle the weather. It would take more than a breeze to incapacitate me.”
“Briar.” Eliot gave me a knowing look, a cloud of chilly air puffing from his mouth. “You don’t need to overthink every decision. It’s only a cup of tea. Just take the fucking thing and say thank you.”
I studied his expression. The intention hidden there. The desire to take care of me. My frown loosened, and I gave him a chagrined smile while accepting the mug. “Thank you.”
As I tipped back the vessel, balmy liquid doused my palate with familiar flavors. I sighed, relaxing into this small comfort.
Nestling the cup in my hands, I watched as Eliot squatted beside the pit and fed it additional kindling. Firelight sketched the lute tattoo along the side of his neck, the design contorting with his movements and the muscles under his sweater rippling. My friend was blessed with a toned body, but he’d grown more rugged since we last saw each other in Spring. The coarse jaw and longer blond waves, which he’d tied into a bun behind his skull, suited him. In a departure from his customarily groomed appearance, dirt now streaked his fitted clothes, and muck caked his boots. He wore this look well.
Additionally, the garrote he’d set beside the pit had grown on me. “Your technique is improving.”
The log shuddered under Eliot’s weight as he returned to his seat beside me. A wry grin titled his lips, neither vain, nor self-effacing. “Coming from you, I’ll take the compliment gladly, even if I didn’t actually use the thing.”
“But your stance and the way you handled the weapon,” I vouched. “You did so without thinking, as if it was second nature.”
“Where you’re concerned, my friend? It’s always second nature.”
I laced our fingers together. “I adore you for that. And the feeling is mutual.”
Eliot lifted my hand and kissed my knuckles. Releasing me, he twined an arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his side. “I’m sorry I didn’t get there quick enough to find the ribbon before you freaked out.”
I rested my head in the crook of his neck. “Never be sorry for what you cannot control.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he confided. “Weaponry is as hard as learning to play a lute, which took most of my life. Not that I would choose between them, and not that anyone’s wondering if I would, but I like the idea of adding ferocity and killer aim to my list of skills, and if what you’re saying is true, I must be an apt pupil.” Before continuing the tangent, he stopped himself and hitched one shoulder. “Or I just have an ambitious teacher.”
Eliot was exaggerating. I had done nothing momentous apart from schooling him on how to locate his target and strike true. Aim, I had some experience with.
In any case, I chuckled ruefully. “If I have been strict about practicing, it’s only because we’re on the run for our lives.”
“Yeah. That’s a problem,” he teased. “Then again, you’ve always been an overachiever. Not that I’ve ever minded, you see. But three days hence, and I can barely move my arms.”
I opened my mouth, intending to respond, when the bushes shook. A feminine “Shit!” and a subsequent “Fuck!” filtered through the clearing.
Cadence stomped into view with all the grace of a troll in a ballroom. Twigs stuck out from her tresses, more creepers snagged on her fluted skirt, and crud stained the hem. The lady made more noise than broken dishes. She grunted, spewed profanities that condemned nature to hell, and then smacked her arm as if an invisible slug had made itself at home on her sleeve.
“Ugh.” Cadence picked her way across a knoll of exposed roots while shaking out her fingers, as though she’d also touched something sticky like sap. “I swear, that’s the last time I’m peeing in a bush.”
I folded my hands in my lap. “I warned you not to stoop near anything resembling flower beds.”
“And not to eat apples with green leaves on the stems, not touch root vegetables or cranberries that aren’t ripe, not to pet the eight-feet-tall deer, not to buy sourdough loaves from peddlers, not to flirt with passersby—and come on, I’m randy as fuck after nearly half a week, but I’m hardly shortsighted—not to follow the scent of ginger, and definitely not to wear gowns in dense areas.Don’t, this. Don’t, that.I got it all the first time, Miss Perfect. If I must, I’ll hold my bladder until we get to the next village. I’m not interested in beetles crawling up my ass while I’m squatting.”
Gallantly, Eliot rose and settled on the ground across from us. That allowed Cadence to drop her backside next to me.
