Page 67 of Silver & Gold

“What the fuck, Seth?!” Raider shouted over the clanging of the palanquin’s racing legs.

If nothing else, at least this crisis had proven what Seth had hoped. With no time for questions, Raider had instinctively, automatically chosen Seth. But this was not how Seth had wanted to do this. He’d imagined a quiet, nighttime getaway. Not a mad dash for freedom.

He winced at Raider’s furious expression. But there was no point in trying to explain himself right now. It was obvious what he’d done—forced them to escape—and he didn’t have the attention to spare for an argument. The super-charged palanquin demanded all his focus.

Over the next half hour, Seth did his best to gauge the direction and head toward the point in the canyon that he’d chosen. This wasn’t what he’d had in mind, but it could still work. At least, it seemed that way until the booster burned out the palanquin’s engine.

Julian had warned Seth that that was likely, but Seth had imagined a slow failing, or at least some warning. A grind. A whine. A sputter. But there was no warning whatsoever. The engine died abruptly. The legs froze.

The palanquin’s forward momentum sent it flying forward to crash on its short nose, spraying sand. Seth was smashed into the steering yoke. He tried to hang on as the world flipped upside down but found himself ripped away and flung free of the vehicle. He tumbled across the sand. Rolling to a stop, he lay stunned as the world kept spinning.

“Seth!”

Seth managed to roll onto his side and push himself partway up. The sand and sky flipped. He pitched sideways. Raider caught him and eased him down.

“M’okay,” Seth mumbled as Raider’s hands roamed all over him. He didn’t feel any pain, just disorientation. He tried to sit up, but Raider held him down.

“Stop moving,” Raider snapped. “Let me look at your leg.”

Seth realized his right leg was numb. He could barely even feel Raider’s hands pressing on it. Then he heard ripping cloth.

“Sit up!” Raider ordered, hauling Seth into a sitting position. “Hold this on the wound.”

Seth stared in surprise at the blood on Raider’s hands as he pressed a wadded up section of his kaftan against Seth’s thigh. Raider grabbed Seth’s jaw with one hand. Seth blinked Raider’s panicked eyes into focus.

“Seth, put your hands on the cloth. Press hard. Seth!” Seth’s teeth rattled as Raider shook him. “Do what I said!”

Seth complied sluggishly, aware that he was hurt but still not quite tracking everything. Raider vanished. He came back a few seconds later with the palanquin’s medical kit.

As Raider took over with the cloth, Seth flopped back in the sand and stared at the sky. Feeling was returning to his leg. Mostly pressure. Then pain.

There was a piercing punch that made Seth scream. He yanked upright to see Raider tossing the medical stapler aside.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Raider murmured, grabbing hold of him. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Seth’s breath caught at the endearment. Raider had never called him that before. Floating on the bliss of that, Seth let himself drift away.

***

Seth roused to the unpleasant feeling of something jammed into his gut. His head was hanging, bumping with the movement under him. He was draped over Raider’s shoulder.

“Hhnn,” he mumbled.

Raider stopped and knelt. Seth felt himself slide off Raider’s shoulder and onto the hard pack.

Hard pack, not sand.

Raider had an arm around Seth’s shoulder, holding him up. “Drink,” he said, pressing a waterskin against Seth’s lips.

Seth raised his hands and took the waterskin, drinking thirstily. After a moment, Raider took it away.

Raider’s face appeared right in front of his. Those gorgeous amber eyes were anxious, intense, hunting.

“I’m here,” Seth said, trying to focus.

A little of the worry faded from Raider’s expression. “I’m taking us in the direction you were going. But I don’t know where we’re headed or why.”

Seth dragged his thoughts together. “There’s a gorge ahead. How far have we gone?”

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