Page 78 of Heat of the Everflame

I had no answer to give him. I reached for his second cut.

“Tell me the full story,” he demanded. “Therealone. Not the lie you gave them about how easy it was.”

When it came to Taran, I had nothing left to lose. With our friendship so fractured and his life on the line, perhaps truth was the balm we both needed.

So I told him—how I’d tied up a stack of metal plates, with a candle burning beneath the rope, and how the eventual clattering fall had distracted Alixe and Luther long enough for me to escape unseen.

How I’d buried my clothes in the sand and waded so far out into the frigid sea that the shore nearly disappeared.

How I’d swam an hour down the beach, then hunted in the woods, naked and shivering, too afraid that dripping clothes would give me away. How I’d been forced to come back over land to avoid ruining the herbs with saltwater.

How I almost made it past the Guardians unseen—until a poorly timed sneeze forced me to run for my life while black arrows rained down on my head.

Though he gave no response, I noted the softening of his features and the small twitches of his lips at each absurd predicament or ballsy risk.

When his wounds were fully tended, I slouched back in my chair. “Well? Are you going to forgive me, or should I threaten to tell Luther you gave me the idea to go alone?”

His azure gaze thinned. “You wouldn’t dare.”

I crossed my arms with a savage smile.

“Fine. I forgive you. But I’m not sure Lu will. He got thatI’m-going-to-murder-someonelook again. It was even worse than after the island.”

“He worries too much.”

Taran snorted. “Have you met yourself? There’s a lot to worry about.”

I smirked. “Just get better, will you? Making him mad was a lot more fun when we did it together.”

Despite my smile, a gnawing regret warned that I might have finally pushed Luther too far. He’d been stormy and withdrawn since leaving Arboros, and I’d been so focused on Taran’s injuries that we’d hardly spoken. With his dearest friend’s life in the balance, perhaps he was nursing wounds of his own—wounds I’d just poured salt right into.

I sighed guiltily and scooped the remaining herbs back into a dry pouch. Luther needed me, and he needed to know I was safe. There was little I could do to give him that comfort—especially here, especially now—but for him, I had to try.

As I turned to go check on Alixe, Taran grabbed my wrist, and our eyes met.

“Thank you, Diem. I’m too selfish to say I wish you hadn’t done it. I hope you know I would have done it for you, too.”

“Then prove it,” I said, a spark of challenge in my tone. “I faced death for you andlived.” I gestured to his wounds. “Time to return the favor.”

His face gave way to a feral grin, that inveterate cheekiness I adored returning once more. “Anything for you, Queenie.”

Chapter

Nineteen

“Are we there yet?”

Alixe and I groaned in unison.

“Look around, Taran,” she said. “Do you see anything other than sea or desert?”

“No.”

“Then the answer is the same as the last fifteen times you asked.”

“And if you ask again, I’m feeding you to Sorae when we get home,” I added.

Taran nudged me with his elbow. “After all the trouble you went to last night to keep me alive?”

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