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“The basamweed is working,” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I was trying to convince Kah or myself. I wondered if Kah was as scared as I was, knowing that such a small wound could take down someone as solid and fearless as Jeddak.
I scanned the horizon. All was quiet. No sign of the Rathalans. Not yet, at least. I turned my attention to the ruins, searching for any sign of the bowman. He must have been stationed atop one of the buildings above the alcove to obtain the right vantage point to strike down this small army. Where was he now, though? The unanswered question only tightened the tension in my stomach.
I circled the courtyard, collecting Jeddak’s staff and knives. Using a patch of moss, I wiped off as much of the dried blood as I could.
I felt the weight of one of his throwing knives in my hand. Like the sword from last night, it felt oddly familiar. Using a nearby tree as a target, I took aim at a small knot in the wood and let the knife fly.
The knifepoint hit the center of the knot.
My eyes went wide.Who am I?
A harsh cry broke the early morning silence. I watched as a bird flew overhead and perched on the crumbling stone above the alcove entrance. Its black-and-white feathers were vivid against the gray landscape.
Sora had said I was a Zavien—part human, part bird. But I felt no more connected to this creature than I was to Kah. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe there wasn’t a ninth tribe after all. Maybe I was just … lost.
The bird called again as if to say,Are you sure?
When the sunreached the horizon, Jeddak finally stirred. I knelt beside him. There was still sweat on his brow, but his skin didn’t feel as hot as it had during the night, and his jaw wasn’t as tightly clenched.
Since I’d met Jeddak, he seemed to view life as a game of dice in which he was always rolling the winning set. Now, he looked like he’d bet big and just lost everything. His hair was dirty and disheveled. His clothes were torn and stained with blood. And the tension on his face told me how much his shoulder was hurting him.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. I noticed the dark veins that had spread across his chest were fading back to normal. The poison was leaving his body. A ripple of hope coursed through me.
He squinted at the daylight that filtered into the alcove, getting his bearings. He seemed more coherent than he had during the night. “Better,” he admitted, shifting to sit up straighter. I leaned forward to help, but he shook his head for me to let him be.
With his good arm, he took a sip from the waterskin and fumbled with the bag of supplies, pulling out a piece of bread. But after a couple small bites, his hand dropped. “We can’t stay here.”
“I know,” I said. The fear growing in my stomach confirmed it. “But how are you going to walk if you barely have the strength to chew?”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, ripping off another piece of the stale bread with his teeth as if to prove it. “My legs still work, you know.”
“I can apply more basamweed,” I offered, noticing the flickering of pain in his gold eyes.
He shook his head again. “There’s no time. We need to get back on the road.”
Something subtle had changed about Jeddak this morning. Last night, it was as if the Rathalan’s blade had punctured an invisible armor that I hadn’t known he was wearing. Without it, his tough, brash exterior had faded away, and I felt like we were seeing each other for the first time. When he’d pressed my hand tightly against his chest, I found myself not wanting him to let go.
Now with his defenses back in place, he seemed distant, distracted,determined.
Maybe it was better this way. I had more important things to focus on than figuring out my feelings for Jeddak. Seeing him in such a dire state had made my need to find my injured brother even more urgent.
I turned my attention to our supplies, packing the flint and iron, bandages, and rolling up the blankets. The pack was heavy, but I was grateful for everything he’d purchased in the marketplace.
Jeddak worked to get his leather armor back in place, only allowing me to help when he couldn’t pull it over his injured shoulder. He clenched his teeth as I buckled it in place, not meeting my eye. From the little I knew about Jeddak, nothing would stop him once he made up his mind to do something.Right now, his stubborn nature worked in our favor. The longer we stayed in Javan, the more danger we were in.
“I’m taking this knife,” I said, sliding one of his leather sheaths onto my belt and securing a knife in it. After last night, I didn’t want to encounter the Rathalans again unarmed. I would be ready this time.
“I think you deserve it,” he said, finally giving up on the bread, looking too nauseated to eat. “You didn’t tell me you knew how to fight.”
“It just kind of … came back to me,” I said, thinking about how the sword had felt natural in my hand.
“If you had a bear with you last night, I would have sworn you were a Kovak warrior.” His voice was strained, but I could see the ghost of a smile forming on his cracked lips.
I thought of when I’d ask Hen if I might be a Kovak. Looking at Jeddak now, a part of me longed to be a Kovak like him. Even injured, he was like a mountain firmly rooted in the earth—unwavering, steady, sure of himself. While I barely knew who I was.
It occurred to me then that Jeddak had never asked what tribe I was from. Like Hen, maybe he’d simply assumed I was an Arden or Terran. Though it was strange how everyoneelseseemed concerned about what tribe I belonged to except for Jeddak.
“Where are we traveling next?” I asked, shaking off the feeling of unease.
