Page 76 of Of Sword & Silver

“You couldn’t handle me.” I poke his chest and he frowns harder. “You couldn’t handle me if I fought dirty, or if I fought clean.” I let a slow smile curl my lips. “Dirty is always more fun, though.”

“Enough.” Lara’s voice rings out. “That’s enough. I want to enjoy this meal.”

“You two should fuck already and get it over with,” Caedia says frankly.

I startle. The Sword glowers.

And Morrow coughs, clearly offended by her rough suggestion.

“Is that your healer opinion?” I ask lightly.

“It’s my ‘it’s going to be a long trip’ if someone doesn’t give in to this sexual tension’ opinion.” Caedia snorts.

Morrow makes another embarrassed noise, then pulls the first rabbit off the fire. “We should eat.”

“What?” Caedia asks, her eyes wide and innocent. “I can’t be the only one that’s thinking it.”

“Enough.” Lara pulls the mushrooms and potatoes off the embers. “Fill your mouths with food instead of insults, you pair of idiots.”

Seems like a good enough compromise to me.

Besides, I got the last word, and from the look on the Sword’s face as he stares at me, he’s still thinking about it.

I grin at him, daring him to do something about it.

I’m disappointed when he only finishes eating and goes inside his tent. I’m not entirely sure why, either.

Lara’s snoring in her sleep like a hog in a mud puddle.

I toss and turn, but that only makes the pain in my shoulder worse.

“Fuck this,” I mutter, but the words are lost in the wake of Lara’s absurdly loud snoring. Surely snoring like that can’t be healthy. I cast a concerned look at her, but other than the ludicrous sawing noise, she seems perfectly content.

I drape my cloak over my bare shoulders and chemise, not bothering with the blouse folded up next to our packs.

A small part of me knows it’s dangerous to go alone at this time of night, so I fasten on my belt of daggers as a nod to self-preservation. A moment later, I’m through the tent’s flap, tucking my feet into the fur-lined boots that are starting to look a little worse for wear, thanks to the manticore.

“Fucking monsters.” I kick at a rock, annoyed and frustrated and full of a pent-up emotion that I’m not sure I really want to put a name to.

Maybe that’s the reason I can’t sleep. Maybe it’s Lara’s ripsaw snores, or maybe it’s the fact I slept for two days straight, fevered from manticore poison.

Maybe it’s the fact that no matter how hard I’ve tried to push the Sword from my mind today, I keep returning to the hairbrush on the nightstand, full of my hair.

He never left my side.

I don’t understand it.

I suck in a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to ground myself, to quiet my mind. A cough starts up in my chest, but whatever medicine Caedia’s given me helps calm it nearly immediately.

The winter wind’s not as harsh tonight, though the night is chill enough that I hug the cloak around myself. The scent of the air holds the promise of snow and I inhale it again, feeling more relaxed. Pine sap and wet earth, campfire smoke. The musk of a great cat.

My eyes fly open.

Sure enough, two glowing eyes stare out at me from the depths of the thick band of trees barely held back by the common road.

“Is that you, kitty-kitty?” I call. My nose scrunches because am I seriously calling the direcat kitty-kitty? Well. I didn’t name him the last time he was around, so maybe kitty-kitty is better than nothing.

The eyes blink once, twice.

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