Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 18a

Galen and Remi kept me tucked safely between them as we walked shoulder to shoulder. Numbness set in as the shock and horror of the compound wore off. I put one foot in front of the other, plodding on and leaving the decay behind me.

As we put more distance behind us, the pace got faster. I soon found myself trotting behind Galen and Remi, who periodically checked to see that I was keeping up. If they were holding back in the forest, they certainly weren't anymore.

As I expected, and to my dismay, I grew tired long before they did. My lungs burned and my legs grew rubbery. The sun was scorching hot, and sweat dripped down my face and back. I had to stop.

I put my hands on my knees and leaned on them, struggling to catch my breath. I hated feeling like a weakling, unable to keep up. I wanted strength. I wanted shade. And water. I took a long drag from my water skin, savoring its cool descent down my parched throat.

They doubled back to me when they saw I had stopped. My knees buckled as they arrived, and I sat down among the tall, yellow grass, still breathing heavily.

"You okay?" Remi asked. He was breathing hard but not winded like I was.

I nodded. "I just have to . . . catch my breath," I said in between gulps of air.

Even after my breathing had evened out, I wasn't sure how much longer I could continue. I looked around at the grass that grew all around me. Some strands of green mixed in with the yellow, and I thought back to my discovery with Sember. I was reluctant to take life again, but I also didn't want to hold them back.

Maybe I could take just a little.

They sat down next to me, drinking from their own water skins, when I reached for handfuls of grass. I closed my eyes and let their vitality flow into me, taking just enough. When I opened my eyes, the green strands were now yellow, but not dead and brown like the first time I tried this. Good, no death. Grasping another handful of grass, I tried it again and smiled as I felt the energy trickle in.

I instantly felt better, as if I had just taken an hour-long nap. I stood up and said, "Okay, I'm ready."

Both Galen and Remi raised their eyebrows, but they got up and we resumed our trek. The brisk pace continued, but this time they were the ones who called for breaks, which gave me time to absorb more energy from the ocean of grass around us.

As the day began to wane, we found an immense oak tree rising up from the endless expanse of grass. Its branches stretched out farther than any hut I had ever seen, and we decided it was the perfect spot to stop for the night.

"No fire tonight," Galen said. "We can't attract attention to ourselves."

We ate from our supplies in companionable silence. There was no more talk of the Zurbo compound, and no one asked me if I was all right. It was as if they knew I preferred it that way.

"We should sleep in the tree," Remi suggested.

I gaped up at the vast array of gnarled branches above me. "Up there?" I squeaked.

"You're not afraid of heights, are you?" His grin was lopsided and teasing.

"It's not the height so much as the falling from that height that I'm afraid of. You know what happened the last time I tried climbing a tree."

Remi chuckled. "It wasn't graceful, I'll grant you that." Then his face sobered and he said, "But you were weak, dehydrated, and hungry then. You're none of those things now. I think you'll be okay."

A warmth spread through my chest. He no longer thought I was weak. But I still eyed the tangled branches above me with trepidation. "How do you—" I bit my lip and looked back at him. "How do you not fall out once you're asleep?"

He looked at me as if he had never considered it. "I don't know. I just don't."

My mouth twisted with chagrin. Sure, I could heal whatever damage resulted from plummeting out of a tree, but the thought of shattering bones did nothing to bolster my courage. And what if I landed on my head?

"I think I'll take my chances on the ground," I said.

"Come on," he said. "I'll make sure you don't fall out."

"And deprive you of a full night's sleep? No, thanks. I don't need that on my conscience."

"We could both sleep. I would just—"

"No," I stopped him. The thought of him holding me all night both thrilled and terrified me. "I'll stay down here."

"But—"

Galen clapped a hand on Remi's shoulder. "I think we'll be fine on the ground tonight."

I shot him a grateful glance. I couldn't possibly explain my reluctance in a way that made sense without humiliating myself.

We unrolled our beds at the base of the tree, and then Galen and Remi began discussing watch rotations.

"I'll go first," I stated.

They both looked at me with strange expressions. They hadn't even considered including me in the rotation.

"You don't have to—"

"Remi, I don't need protection. You didn't want me on this trip, so I'm not going to be a burden on the two of you. I share in whatever duties there are. End of discussion."

He closed his mouth and looked to Galen for help. He merely shrugged in response. "The lady has spoken," Galen said. "Any sign of trouble, you wake us up."

I nodded and went to retrieve my sharp stick. Maybe it was comical to them for a slight girl like me to be wielding an equally non-threatening weapon of sorts, but it made me feel better. I strapped it to my thigh over the hide trousers.

As Galen laid himself down to sleep, Remi followed me out to the outer edge of the tree's reach.

"It's not that I didn't want you coming with us," he said, searching my face for indications of my mood.

"You made it abundantly clear that it was a bad idea for me to come." I didn't bother to hide the irritation in my voice as I gazed out at the dark horizon. A half-moon was starting to rise.

He sighed. "But it wasn't because I didn't want to be with you. Because I do."

My stomach flipped and I looked at him, trying to grasp what this meant. His face was barely visible in the dim light.

"Siena, being around you, I don't know, I just feel . . . good. And I couldn't stand it if you got hurt, so that's why I didn't want you to go. You're safer in Foresthome."

"I'm not helpless," I said, fighting to control my irritation as well as the giddiness of my heartbeat.

"I never said you were," he replied.

I regarded him in the growing silvery light, trying to read his expression. I wanted to believe that he felt the same warm feelings for me that I had for him, but I didn't dare. I was probably reading too much into his words. Best to end this conversation before I got too caught up in my wishful thinking.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound dismissive. "You should get some sleep."

He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead turned around and headed back to the base of the tree.

I turned my eyes back to the climbing moon and sighed. What was happening between us? He made me feel skittish and vulnerable, yet warm and protected all at once. I wished I could ask my mother about it. She could tell me what to do, and I wouldn't feel so confused.

I wandered slowly around our makeshift camp, alternating between scanning the darkness for danger and gazing up at the clear, starry sky. This may be the only thing I missed about living on the plains. Time would sail past me when I was enthralled by the spray of stars blanketing the night sky. I would stare up at them, wishing for a better life. Now that I had a better life, what did I wish for now? The winking stars had no answers for me. They never did.

Stars are so pretty. Let's vote for them (and Siena, haha).