Page 17 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain
“And you seem to think I was some kind of lady before I was in a dungeon. I’d imagine most ladies sleep in very comfortable beds.”
Locane nods at me once and says, “Touche.”
We make quick work of clearing out our campsite and move on for the day. My eagerness to be out of the woods is steadily increasing. I’m still not sure what I’ll do when I leave Locane’s house in whatever undetermined amount of time he has in mind. He hasn’t promised to give me any kind of answers immediately when we reach his home—just that I would get some.
Some answers.
Absolutely infuriating.
We haven’t made it far before he asks the question I expected at some point. “Any more telling dreams last night?”
“No, just deep and dreamless sleep,” I reply airily. But my heart rate ratchets higher.
“Really?” Locane says skeptically.
“Yes, really.” I don’t think he believes me.
“Not one single memory in the form of a dream?”
He definitely doesn’t believe me.
“Nope.” I popthepand smile sweetly at him.
He somehow knows that something else came to me last night, but I am determined to keep this one to myself.
Deflecting back to him I ask, “I’ve told you about Nana, my only family that I currently remember. Do you have any family?”
His shoulders tense as he turns back to me, showing me his profile. I catch a glimpse of a pain etched in his eye. “No, not anymore.”
Regretting asking, I expect it to put him in a foul mood based on his response. After several silent minutes I ask him, “What do you have to get in the village?”
“Supplies.”
“What kind of supplies?”
“The kind that I need.”
I laugh. “You know, I almost find myself missing the dungeon and its dull guards since I’ve been reacquainted with you.”
“We don’t know each other,” Locane says through gritted teeth.
“So you keep saying, but I don’t believe you.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I can’t wait to get away from you either.” He clenches his jaw tightly.
“Now that, I do believe.”
And we walk in silence for several hours.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It’s around noon when the soft slopes of the mountain terrain transition into flatter ground. Locane has been becoming steadily more tense as the ground evens out.
The forest floor becomes less rocky and there are less fallen limbs and logs to step over. The winding stream of water that we have been beside for some time now is quieter, moving at a steady pace instead of the amplified flow from gravity. It’s not long before the stream we’re following bends inward to meet the curve of a road.
The sight brings on a new bout of anxiousness.
I should have expected this. I should have been preparing myself as soon as Locane mentioned stopping in a village. Of course there would be a road going into it.
