the camouflage around the door.”
All color drained from his face. “I …” He swayed and reached for the cot. “They’re …”
I debated for a second before abandoning my post. Kerrick sat on the edge. Taking his hand in mine, I released my healing power, sending it into him. Energy flowed through him as it drained from me. Through Kerrick, I learned the moss on the door had thickened and grown over the bare spots that would have given us away.
Magic surrounded two of the nine people searching outside. Kerrick’s awareness stretched farther into the forest. Finding what he searched for, Kerrick shook a tree about a mile away. A dead limb crashed to the ground. I felt the impact through Kerrick. The noise drew the others away.
He released my hand.
“But I can—”
“No. Save your strength.” His voice rasped.
Melina came over. “Are they …?”
“Gone.” Keeping one foot on the ground, Kerrick lay back on the cot and fell asleep in an instant.
I stood on unsteady legs.
Melina twisted the bottom of her tunic. “Can we leave now?”
“No. We have to wait for Kerrick to regain his strength. Sorry.”
“He’s a magician, isn’t he?” she asked in a low voice.
“Yes. Although I don’t think it’s common knowledge.”
She nodded as if she understood. “I don’t blame him. With ten golds being offered for information on the whereabouts of magicians, I’d keep quiet, too.”
“Ten golds? Why?”
“Mom told me that since many of the Realms’ legitimate leaders have died, the remaining powerful people are all scrambling to amass armies, grab Realms and stockpile resources, including magicians.”
“I thought that was just one of those paranoid rumors.”
“Where have you been?” she asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “We had a customer from Grzebien who told us his town was in the middle of reorganizing when a large army arrived to help. Except they set up their own town watch and declared the city an official member of the Ozero Realm, and under the protection of the High Priestess’s holy army.”
“Was there any resistance?”
“I doubt it. If Grzebien is anything like Mengels, there’s not enough people or energy to put up much of a fight.” She glanced at the back door. “If the High Priestess’s army can stop bastards like them and bring peace back, I’m more than happy to wear one of those red robes and give thanks to their creator.”
Which, from what I’d learned from Tara, Melina would be forced to do. The High Priestess, also known as Estrid of Ozero was intolerant of other faiths, and required her subjects to be members of her cultlike religion. Was she better or worse than Tohon? I mulled it over as I rummaged for food. Bianca and Peni helped me cook a simple vegetable soup. Melina’s pale face worried me. She sat nearby, holding a wet cloth to her bleeding cheek. I asked her who the other powerful survivors were to distract her from the pain.
“Tohon of Sogra and Prince Ryne of Ivdel until he disappeared. I’ve also heard a couple Algan princes, President Lyady’s daughter and a few other minor nobles lived, but they’re not looking to rule, just survive like the rest of us. Oh, and some guy claiming he’s the Skeleton King has a small army in Ryazan Realm.”
“That’s it?” Now Kerrick’s comment about Tohon wanting Ryne dead made more sense. As I thought about the problem, I wondered how greedy Tohon could be? Fifteen Realms split three ways would give each leader five Realms. But who would decide which five? Each Realm had its own assets and drawbacks. The richest ones would be the most desirable.
I found a loaf of bread and a wedge of goat’s cheese to go with the soup. Melina picked listlessly at her portion while I tore into mine. I saved a hunk of both for Kerrick.
When I suggested we get a few hours of sleep, Melina shot to her feet. “No. I’m not … I can’t … I want to go home.” Her body shook.
I embraced her as she broke down. She had been so strong earlier and hadn’t complained at all that I had forgotten how young she was—at least three years younger than Bianca and Peni. Guiding her over to a cot, I lay down next to her. Magic pulsed under my ribs and I released it. Melina had been punched repeatedly in the face. While I could heal her wounds, I couldn’t erase her memories. At least she’d have Mom to comfort her.
A hand shook my shoulder. I jerked awake. Kerrick leaned over me. Annoyance creased his brow. Melina stood behind him. She covered her mouth with her hand, staring at me with wide eyes as she put the clues together. She felt great and I had bruises covering my face. I wondered if Melina or the other girls would turn me in, but I couldn’t produce the energy to care.
“My men will be here soon,” Kerrick said, straightening.
“The ones you ordered to stay at the inn?” I asked, suppressing a grin.
“Yes. They’re leading Mom and half the town watch straight here. Quain is tracking our trail—which should be impossible to follow.” Disgruntled, he glanced at the door. “I taught him too well. Either that or Quain is half eagle.”
“A bald eagle?” I quipped.
Kerrick smiled a genuine smile. One that reached his eyes. Good thing I was already lying down or I would have fainted in surprise. It faded as he studied me.
“Will you be able to travel?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Good.” He strode to the door and unlocked it. With his hand on the knob, he paused and looked at me. “My men had never disobeyed an order before we found you.”
Even though his comment was meant to be a complaint, I said, “Thank you,” just to annoy him.
It worked. He decided to wait for his men outside. Sunlight streamed in from the open door. I blinked in the brightness. Morning already?
“Avry, what happened?” Melina asked. “Your face … Are you …?”
I sat up and made room for her to sit next to me. “Yes, I’m a healer.” I spoke in a low voice so the others didn’t overhear, not that it would matter once they saw me.
“Is that why those people from last night are after you?” she asked.
“Unfortunately.”
“Is Kerrick protecting you so he can turn you in for the bounty?”
She had a quick intelligence, and, out of curiosity, I asked, “What do you think?”
Tugging on the hem of her tunic, Melina considered my question for a few minutes. “He’s protecting you, but not for the gold.” She put her hand on my cheek. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” The truth.
“Did it hurt?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
“No, Melina, it doesn’t.” How to explain it? I searched for the right words. “Your pain was a reminder of what happened to you. But the pain I felt was connected to you—a bright young lady. By healing your injuries, I was helping you and that transforms how I perceive the pain, making it bearable.”
She still looked unconvinced.
I tried again. “It’s like when I held my newborn sister. Noelle was heavy and my muscles ached, but the discomfort paled in comparison to my awe over her presence in my arms. I would have been content to hold her… .” Sudden grief choked off my words. I had been six, but I’d never forget the intense desire to hold and protect her forever. As she grew, she