Page 41 of Broken Fate
The brunette nodded. “Like you. The new arrivals. These are welcome packages. Clothing, food chits, bedding. And some first aid supplies.”
“Is everyone okay?” I asked stiffly.
“Broken bones that have been allowed to heal wrong. One rather infected gash. Mostly minor other than that.”
I sighed, grateful for that. Then I sobered quickly. Only those who hadn’t been hurt badly would have made it there. The others were either dead or in Andracis’ custody. I almost prayed it was the first, given my experience at his hands.
“Has … um, have you seen anyone named Clive?” I asked quietly. “Do you know if anyone by that name has shown up? He’s kind of nerdy, sh—uh, fairly tall, kind of a sharp face, big brown eyes, very friendly and open? Kind of younger.”
The woman frowned in thought, then shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I haven’t seen everyone. Only the most recent group.”
Recent group. So more than one had arrived. That increased the odds that Clive had survived. I started to ask about Andi, but we came around a corner to see a bustle of activity.
“There are a lot of people here,” I remarked as we handed off our loads to others who started to sort through them.
The woman nodded. “There are always people coming and going. But with the manor being hit, we’ve received an extra influx.”
“Right,” I said, watching.
We were quite clearly at an entry point to the cavern. Beyond the tables and chairs that were set up next to a row of metal tubs filled with water—and more than one soaking shifter—a group of well-armed and hard-looking shifters stood guard, watching down the tunnel.
“Jada!”
I looked up sharply as a familiar face hurtled toward me, brown eyes filling with relief.
“Clive,” I said, opening my arms to meet him with a hug.
Strong arms swept me from the ground, and I found myself on the receiving end of Clive’s hug instead. He held me tight to him, and I squeezed back hard, the relief at seeing him palpable.
He swung me in a circle and then set me down, arms still wrapped around me. I relaxed into it. Clive was not only alive but also unharmed, as far as I could tell.
The hug went on, and something in it changed. I stiffened slightly, my arms wrapped firmly around his neck, holding Clive tight to me while he did the same.
The sudden ratcheting of tension must have been felt on his end, too, because he suddenly recoiled.
“It’s, um, it’s good to see you,” he said awkwardly.
“You, too,” I said, grimacing internally at the wooden response. Since when had things between us been so formal? A simple hug couldn’t change years of friendship. I wouldn’t to let it. “Did Andi …?”
“She’s here,” he confirmed, not bothering to hide his relief at the change of subject. He pointed, and I saw the woman just climbing out of one of the tubs and reaching for a towel.
“Good,” I said. “I’m glad.”
“Yeah.”
The tension returned. What should I say?
“Ghost? Ghost, is that you?”
“Rampage!” Clive cried, giving the newcomer a matching hearty backslap as they exchanged greetings.
“Damn, it’s good to see you!”
“Ghost?” I interjected. “You have a nickname?”
Rampage looked at me, then Clive, and chuckled. “Oh, he sure does. You should ask him how he got it.”
Clive glared. “Don’t do that to me, man. Come on now.”
