Taste Of Darkness

“I think she’s regrouping and taking stock of her resources. Pulling back into the safety of Vyg, Cellina can coordinate her forces and plan her next move.” He stopped in front of a wooden door. “That’s what I’d do if I was in her position.”

“All right. But that doesn’t explain why you want the infirmary closer to Zabin.”

Ryne grabbed a lantern from the wall, opened the door and gestured me inside. I scanned the room. Desk, armchairs, a worn couch, a single bed, and chest of drawers filled the space. This was more than just his office. The single bed snagged my attention. I wondered if Ryne had ever found that person.

He set the lantern on the desk and sat behind it. He probably didn’t have time for anything other than waging war. Perhaps when this was all over.

I plopped into one of the armchairs on the opposite side. Sinking into the thick cushions, I relaxed. Nice until I remembered he hadn’t answered my question. I repeated it.

He propped his elbows on the desk and rested his chin on his hands as if debating how much to tell me.

Sick of the song and dance, I leaned forward. “Enough with all this mystery, Ryne. How about a little trust?”

“I told you about Cellina.”

“Not that. I’m talking about Odd’s timely rescue. You could have sent me a message, informing me of your plans.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

“Hell, yes!” I slammed my hand on his desk. “I wouldn’t have taken on two broken ribs, weakening me. I’d have kept my stiletto handy.”

He creased his brow. “But you knew there was a chance she’d send a team to kidnap you.”

“I did. But I didn’t know you told our guards to let them in. If you’re going to use me as bait, at least warn me.”

“Ah.” He dropped his hands and pushed a few papers, lost in thought. “But what if you objected?”

“There’s that trust issue again, Ryne. Let me give you an example. I really didn’t enjoy dying for you, but I trusted Kerrick and his reasons that you needed to live. If you’d explained that confirming Cellina’s desire to awaken Tohon was important, then I’d be fine. I might not like it, but I trust your reasons. Now you need to trust me to follow your logic.”

Ryne shook his head. “Kerrick warned me you wouldn’t follow orders, so I figured if I worked...around you, it’d be better.”

“That was different. I didn’t trust him then.”

“I see.” He leaned back. “What if I can’t tell you for a very good reason? Will you still trust me?”

Good question. “Yes, as long as you keep me in the loop with all the other stuff.”

“Agreed.” He reached over and shook my hand.

“Now that’s settled. What’s going on?”

He laughed. “I’m planning to attack Cellina’s troops in Zabin.”

That explained why he’d want the infirmary closer. “Why?”

“It’s a good strategic position. If I can clear them out, we’d have a stronger defense against her army.”

“What if you can’t?”

“Then we retreat and the offensive becomes a rescue operation.”

Rescue? Ah. “You think Cellina left Estrid and her high-ranking officers behind?” Sepp had frozen them all in a magical stasis.

“It doesn’t make sense for her to drag them back to Vyg. Besides, she believes only Sepp can awaken them.”

Oh. Now I understood his earlier reluctance. “You need Flea to go in with the initial attack and awaken them if they’re still there.” It was easier to rescue people who could walk.

“Yes. And I know how...protective you are of him.”

“I am. Which just means I’m going, too.”

“No, you’re not,” Ryne said, as if that ended the discussion.

It didn’t. “Yes, I am.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Then keep Flea with me at the infirmary until you’ve secured Zabin.”

“And if we can’t, there will be no second chance. He has to go.” Ryne held up a hand, stopping my protest. “He’s a good fighter, Avry. Very capable.”

“I don’t care.”

He fingered the light brown stubble growing on his cheeks. Dark smudges of exhaustion marked his eyes. “How about if I assign a squad with the sole purpose of protecting him during the attack?”

“That’s acceptable, but I’m still going.”

His demeanor changed. “I can ensure you stay behind.”

KERRICK

He resisted the pull. Fought the fever.

I’m not.

Going to.

Relax.

I promised.

Avry.

At times, he was everywhere. Every blade of grass, every tree, and each bush was him. Stretched across the forest, he felt every intruder, every animal, and each breeze. Pain from broken limbs and trampled grass pulsed inside him.

At times, he was nowhere. He existed in a void of light and sound. But he struggled against the nothingness and returned to the living green.

At times, he was everywhere and nowhere, teetering on the edge.