Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 23b

"Meresh?" My eyes traveled over his familiar features, and I flung my arms around his neck. "You're alive! I thought for sure they would have . . ." I let go and stepped back. "Why didn't they kill you?"

His lips thinned, and his eyes dropped to the ground. "When Father saw the battle turning against us, he ordered me back to the compound." His hands formed fists. "I got there just in time to be captured." He sniffed a mirthless laugh and brought his eyes back up. "Apparently, I don't look like an adult."

I gave him a gentle smile. "And for that I am grateful. Do you . . ." I thought about the big man who had shown me kindness. "Do you know what happened to Shandy?"

His dark eyes drifted away, as if seeing the battle again over my shoulder. "It took six Krat warriors to take him down. And they only succeeded because he had an arrow in his leg." Meresh shook his head. "What a waste."

It wasn't surprising that my unexpected ally went down fighting, but it still twisted my heart. "He was a good man. And also, I'm sorry about your father."

His head hung a little as he deflated, making him look every bit like a lost boy. I smoothed back his dark hair and let my hand linger over his wound. When it was healed, Meresh took my hand and said, "Come back to Zurbo. It will be different now."

I thought about this and glanced at the people around me. I saw newfound respect in many of their eyes. And also continued mistrust in some of the others. Whether they thought me good or bad, I was still an Aberration to all of them. Someone with unnatural powers.

Not a person.

I shook my head and gently tugged my hand back. "I've found a new home. You'll have to do without me."

"Come on." He reached for my hand again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

I pulled my hand out of reach. "Zurbo never felt like home to me."

He let his hand drop to his side. "But it can. I'll make sure of it."

His face looked so earnest, it seemed he really believed he could do that for me. "Meresh, I appreciate everything you've ever done for me. And everything you plan on doing for me. But for once, I'm standing on my own. I like where I am now."

"But what about us?"

Was there ever an us? My eyes drifted to where Remi continued helping prisoners, and my stomach fluttered at the mere thought of an "us." I shook my head. "I'm sorry."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Is there someone else? Because I'll fight for you."

I frowned. "Hasn't there been enough fighting?"

He sighed with resignation and rubbed the back of his neck. "You're right. I'm acting like my father. No wonder you don't want to be with me."

I laid a hand on his arm. "Meresh, you are nothing like your father, and I think you're going to make an excellent chieftain."

"Rule with me." His arched brows beseeched me, and I briefly wondered if I could make a difference in the tribe this way.

But then I thought about Sember, Nirrin, and Davin—people I called friends after only a few weeks—and I pulled my hand away. "That is not my path."

He nodded and gave me a sad smile. "Well, if you ever change your mind, our tribe can be your tribe anytime you wish." He touched his forehead. "You always were magical." After one last glance, he turned away to find his tribesmen.

When Pimo found me, his brown eyes swirled with something I hadn't seen from him before. Was it . . . regret?

"Siena," he began, but faltered.

I rested my hands on his shoulders. "What is it, Pimo?"

He glanced nervously around to see if anyone was listening, then said, "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry about?" I asked, a dozen things running through my mind. Was he sorry about betraying me to Borga in order to save his own skin? Or about ratting me out to Magar and getting our mother killed? Or maybe snubbing me at every opportunity?

"Everything," he whispered. The little pug nose on his pointy face reminded me of a piglet. "I miss Mama."

It was hard to stay mad at him. "I miss her too." I crouched and wrapped him into a hug.

"You came for me," he said into my ear. "You came even though you hated me."

I pulled away to looked into his eyes. "I never hated you, Pimo. I think you hated me, though."

His shoulders raised in a small shrug. "I don't know. I don't hate you now."

"What about tomorrow?" I teased.

A smile tugged at his lips. "I won't hate you tomorrow either."

Aww... let's hope that little rat learned his lesson. Vote please?