Page 5 of The Rising Wave

She burrowed her fingers in her short, dark hair.

Banyon had been slack lately, and her hair actually had a little length to it, now, rather than the shorn look she was used to. Long enough that she'd been able to weave her hidden needle into the strands, in case they checked her clothes again.

She got hold of the needle and pulled it out, tugging a little when it wouldn't come until a few strands came away at the roots.

Eyes smarting from the pain, her fingers shook a little as she unwound the single thread she'd hidden with the needle. The black silk was already threaded through the fine, silver needle's eye, ready to be used at a moment's notice.

She stared at it.

It was the only thread she had left.

She had thought all of it was gone, until one day she'd found a short strand of it caught between the mattress and the sheet on her bed.

She'd kept it safe ever since, and had only used a little for the tiny stitches she’d put in her neckline to protect her from poison.

She made her decision and then committed herself fully, hunching over as she crawled to Luc, back to the door. Even if Banyon was pressed right up against it, looking in, he wouldn't be able to see what she was doing.

She clamped Luc's arm between her knees and began sewing.

As the needle pierced his skin, he came to with a cry and a jerk.

His gaze went to her face, eyes wild, and then down to his arm wedged in her lap.

At the sight of the needle sticking out of his skin, his gaze snapped to hers again.

“You're sewing me up.” His voice was a dirty rasp.

She nodded.

He gave a slow blink, a lowering and raising of his eyelids, and then he relaxed.

“I thought you were going to run,” he said, lying back against the blanket.

“Is that so?” she murmured as she worked the needle.

“Yes.” He closed his eyes, but his body remained tense.

“You were wrong.”

“You were going to, though.” His murmur was as low as her own. “What changed your mind?”

She shot him a look of incredulity, but his eyes were still shut.

“Maybe I still will.”

He gave a grunt at that. “You could do worse than wait for me to recover my strength. I've a good sword arm.” He winced as she pulled on the thread.

“You must have, to be down here.” Herron and his generals wouldn't bother singling out just anyone. There was something special about this one.

“It's more than my fighting skills they don't like.” His speech was choppy as he held and released his breath with the in and out of her needle.

“Who are you then? Some warlord threat?”

He was silent, and she looked up to check he hadn't passed out again, to find his bright eyes on her.

She blew out a breath. “You are?”

“I fought in the warlord's army, that's true.” He kept his gaze steady, but something in his eyes, some shadow, told her he was lying.

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