Page 27 of The Rising Wave

He frowned. Opened his mouth to speak, and before he could say something that would force her to lie, she noticed a bandage had lifted off his arm, and she caught it as it floated past.

“Look.” She lifted his arm and felt a well of pride at how beautifully the stitching had held. “We need to cut the stitches out before the skin grows over them.”

“That's . . . incredible.” He lifted his arm up, flexed his hand. “It felt healed to me, but the stitches are almost the only way to tell where the cut was.”

He unwrapped the other bandages, and she caught them as they began to float away.

When she looked up, he was staring at her, suspicion lurking in his expression.

“How is this possible?” He showed her his arms, then rose up out of the water, bringing her with him by hooking his hands under her armpits. Then he stepped back to look at the cuts in his side.

She turned and lunged for another bandage as the river caught it, and then briefly fought him when he held her back from going after it.

“Answer the question, Ava.”

She couldn't keep from watching the strip of fabric ripple in the water and then disappear below the surface. She had had so much taken away, she needed every scrap she could find, even if it was bloody bandages made from old sheets.

Realizing how mad that made her sound, she finally straightened and looked up at Luc. It was drummed into her, over and over.Never confess what you can do, or you'll never be safe.It hadn’t mattered. Herron had known—somehow, he'd known. He'd hinted her father had told him, but she would never believe that.

Perhaps Herron had set spies to eavesdrop on her parents. That made sense to her.

But now she had to refuse to answer, or reveal herself, and she didn't know what to do.

With a cry of exasperation, she spun away from him, jumping onto the bank to pull on her clothes.

When she turned back, he stood in the same place, waist deep in water, so beautiful, each muscle was defined.

She stared at him for a long moment, noting the long-faded scars on his chest and arms.

“I—”

The baying of dogs cut her off, and with a gasp, she angled south, shielding her eyes against the sun to try and see what was coming.

Luc gave a vicious curse, hauling himself up onto the bank to pull on his pants and wrap his cloak around him. He had gotten rid of the too-small boots long ago.

“You go east,” Ava said to him. “I can confuse the dogs.”

“I'm not leaving you.” He flicked an astonished look at her as he buckled the scabbard he’d taken from Garmand around his waist, slid out the sword. “They're close.” He sounded calm.

He turned slowly, taking in the wood behind them, the open field in front. “You hide there.” He pointed to a thicket of bushes a little way down the stream.

Ava could hear the thunder of hooves already. Any moment now, the horses and riders would appear from the valley below.

“Now, Ava. Go. Before they see you.”

She let out a small scream of frustration. “If they capture you again—”

“It's the best plan we have, but that's if youlistento me.” He shoved her into the river and she fell with a splash, spluttered, and then dived under, swimming to the small stand of brush where he wanted her to hide.

When she surfaced and pulled herself, dripping, amongst the gnarled, entwined trunks, he was gone.

She set to work immediately. She still had all the bandages but one, and there was a long strand of thread she'd seen on one of the raw edges. She tugged it loose, threaded her needle, and then centered herself.

Thought of the dogs.

They would be punished if they steered the general wrong again, so while she wanted them to run away, she didn't want them running home.

They would be hunted if they formed a roaming pack, and that wasn't fair to them, anyway. They were used to people.

---