Willing Sacrifice
Page 43
Grace limped to the bag where Torr had put the box holding the crystals. Frost covered the leather surface. She pulled out the box, wincing at the icy chill that seeped out from the container wrapped in his shirt. She used that shirt to tie the box to her knee and let the cold help ease her pain.
She would be better soon. She had to be. He needed her to protect him while he slept so that he could protect her village and everyone she loved once he woke.
She kept a constant watch for Masons and Hunters, listening for any sign of their approach. She heard nothing.
The chill against her knee began permeating her blood as the air cooled and the sky darkened.
She scooted closer to the fire.
The movement woke Torr. His eyes opened, blinking away the haze of drug-induced sleep.
He should have slept much longer, but maybe he’d thrown off the effects of the anti-inflammatory potion as fast as he healed.
Grace shifted her body to hide her knee and quickly untied the box. She didn’t want him to worry.
He was at her side, looming over her just as she opened the lid.
Blue light pulsed out, instantly slowing her heart to match its pace.
“What are you doing with that?” he asked.
“Just looking at them.” The lie felt like acid on her tongue, but it was better than admitting her weakness.
“They’re dangerous. They need to stay cold. That’s why Brenya gave us the box.”
She shut the lid and tied his tattered shirt back in place to hold it closed. She handed him the box to keep from having to get up and put it away in his bag. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. My knee seems fine. I thought it would take longer to heal than that. Your dirty-foot potion packs a wallop, but it worked wonders.” He tucked the box back where it belonged.
“Glad to help.”
“I’d say we should get moving, but it’s probably too dangerous for you to walk through the woods at night.”
She wanted to snap at him, telling him she would manage, but he’d just handed her the perfect excuse to stay here, off her sore knee. “Probably smart not to risk it.”
He gave her a funny look, like he was expecting her to say something else. “What? No argument? Are you sick?”
“Of course not. You are capable of having good ideas, aren’t you?”
“I always thought so. I just wasn’t sure you did.”
If he prodded more, he might figure out what was going on. Before that could happen, she needed to distract him. “I’m going to sleep for a while. Wake me when you’re ready to go?”
“Sure. Okay. Whatever you want.”
“Just sleep.”
She rolled over, facing away from the fire and the light it put off. A moment later, Torr’s big feet filled her vision.
He crouched next to her. “I will figure out what you’re hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You are, but that’s okay. It’ll give me something to puzzle over while you sleep.”
“Really, Torr. I’m just tired. It’s been a crazy day.”
He gave a slow nod that wasn’t at all reassuring. “Sleep, then. I’m sure I’ll figure it out by the time you wake up. Then we’ll talk.”
Grace closed her eyes before they could give her away and prayed there’d be nothing to talk about by morning.
Chapter 19
Tori paced, waiting for Brenya to free her from her punishment.
Cutting Torr wasn’t right. She knew that. But this—this torture was more than she deserved. If she’d known she was going to end up here, she would have cut him deeper.
She covered her ears, trying to ignore the pitiful screams. She knew that it wouldn’t take much to make the noise stop, but her vow to Brenya stayed her hand.
She couldn’t kill it. Not today.
Finally, when she could take no more of the noise, she stalked over to the wooden box and looked inside.
The baby was red-faced, its chin wobbling with its misery. Each long scream ended in a breathless vibration that set Tori’s teeth on edge.
Willing to do anything to make the noise stop, she picked up the wailing child and held it at arm’s length.
The smell of piss sharpened the air. It was wet.
A stack of clean, soft cloths sat waiting to be used. Tori had never changed a diaper before, but if it would get the child to shut the hell up, she’d figure it out.
She set the baby on the bed, pinning it there with one hand while she reached for what she needed. The screaming went on, drilling its way into her ears. All she could think about was the way the children locked in those caves with her had screamed while they were being hurt.
The sour taste of bile rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down and stripped the squalling infant naked. The clean cloth went on the way the dirty one had come off, and in a few seconds Tori had managed the task.
She held the baby against her chest to check the back of her work, and instantly the screaming stopped.
Blissful silence filled the nursery and gave Tori some space to breathe.
She set the baby back in her box, and the screaming started again.
Tori’s skin crawled up her neck, trying to work its way into her ears to block the noise. She was desperate enough that she even put the baby back against her chest, hoping it would quiet again.
It did, which was more than a small miracle.
Tori went to the door where her captor stood guard—one of Brenya’s soldiers, who was willing to obey any order given.
She pushed the door open enough to say, “The baby is quiet. I’m ready to come out now.”
“Is she asleep?” asked the guard.
“No.”
“Then you’re not done yet.” The guard shut the door.
Tori looked down at her punishment. “Sleep,” she ordered.
The tiny thing blinked, but that was all.
Tori could make it sleep. Cover its nose and mouth. Just long enough to get it to close its eyes.
She moved her hand to do just that, but found herself frozen, unable to complete the motion.
“Stupid fucking vow,” she snarled. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?”
The baby blinked again.
It was kind of pretty for a screaming, bald creature. Long black lashes swept out from its eyes, wet from its crying fit. Its irises were the palest green, like newly sprouted plants on Earth. If Tori looked hard enough, she could see the slightest bit of motion in them—a kind of lazy swirling of silver and green that gave away the child’s heritage.
She would be better soon. She had to be. He needed her to protect him while he slept so that he could protect her village and everyone she loved once he woke.
She kept a constant watch for Masons and Hunters, listening for any sign of their approach. She heard nothing.
The chill against her knee began permeating her blood as the air cooled and the sky darkened.
She scooted closer to the fire.
The movement woke Torr. His eyes opened, blinking away the haze of drug-induced sleep.
He should have slept much longer, but maybe he’d thrown off the effects of the anti-inflammatory potion as fast as he healed.
Grace shifted her body to hide her knee and quickly untied the box. She didn’t want him to worry.
He was at her side, looming over her just as she opened the lid.
Blue light pulsed out, instantly slowing her heart to match its pace.
“What are you doing with that?” he asked.
“Just looking at them.” The lie felt like acid on her tongue, but it was better than admitting her weakness.
“They’re dangerous. They need to stay cold. That’s why Brenya gave us the box.”
She shut the lid and tied his tattered shirt back in place to hold it closed. She handed him the box to keep from having to get up and put it away in his bag. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. My knee seems fine. I thought it would take longer to heal than that. Your dirty-foot potion packs a wallop, but it worked wonders.” He tucked the box back where it belonged.
“Glad to help.”
“I’d say we should get moving, but it’s probably too dangerous for you to walk through the woods at night.”
She wanted to snap at him, telling him she would manage, but he’d just handed her the perfect excuse to stay here, off her sore knee. “Probably smart not to risk it.”
He gave her a funny look, like he was expecting her to say something else. “What? No argument? Are you sick?”
“Of course not. You are capable of having good ideas, aren’t you?”
“I always thought so. I just wasn’t sure you did.”
If he prodded more, he might figure out what was going on. Before that could happen, she needed to distract him. “I’m going to sleep for a while. Wake me when you’re ready to go?”
“Sure. Okay. Whatever you want.”
“Just sleep.”
She rolled over, facing away from the fire and the light it put off. A moment later, Torr’s big feet filled her vision.
He crouched next to her. “I will figure out what you’re hiding.”
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You are, but that’s okay. It’ll give me something to puzzle over while you sleep.”
“Really, Torr. I’m just tired. It’s been a crazy day.”
He gave a slow nod that wasn’t at all reassuring. “Sleep, then. I’m sure I’ll figure it out by the time you wake up. Then we’ll talk.”
Grace closed her eyes before they could give her away and prayed there’d be nothing to talk about by morning.
Chapter 19
Tori paced, waiting for Brenya to free her from her punishment.
Cutting Torr wasn’t right. She knew that. But this—this torture was more than she deserved. If she’d known she was going to end up here, she would have cut him deeper.
She covered her ears, trying to ignore the pitiful screams. She knew that it wouldn’t take much to make the noise stop, but her vow to Brenya stayed her hand.
She couldn’t kill it. Not today.
Finally, when she could take no more of the noise, she stalked over to the wooden box and looked inside.
The baby was red-faced, its chin wobbling with its misery. Each long scream ended in a breathless vibration that set Tori’s teeth on edge.
Willing to do anything to make the noise stop, she picked up the wailing child and held it at arm’s length.
The smell of piss sharpened the air. It was wet.
A stack of clean, soft cloths sat waiting to be used. Tori had never changed a diaper before, but if it would get the child to shut the hell up, she’d figure it out.
She set the baby on the bed, pinning it there with one hand while she reached for what she needed. The screaming went on, drilling its way into her ears. All she could think about was the way the children locked in those caves with her had screamed while they were being hurt.
The sour taste of bile rose in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down and stripped the squalling infant naked. The clean cloth went on the way the dirty one had come off, and in a few seconds Tori had managed the task.
She held the baby against her chest to check the back of her work, and instantly the screaming stopped.
Blissful silence filled the nursery and gave Tori some space to breathe.
She set the baby back in her box, and the screaming started again.
Tori’s skin crawled up her neck, trying to work its way into her ears to block the noise. She was desperate enough that she even put the baby back against her chest, hoping it would quiet again.
It did, which was more than a small miracle.
Tori went to the door where her captor stood guard—one of Brenya’s soldiers, who was willing to obey any order given.
She pushed the door open enough to say, “The baby is quiet. I’m ready to come out now.”
“Is she asleep?” asked the guard.
“No.”
“Then you’re not done yet.” The guard shut the door.
Tori looked down at her punishment. “Sleep,” she ordered.
The tiny thing blinked, but that was all.
Tori could make it sleep. Cover its nose and mouth. Just long enough to get it to close its eyes.
She moved her hand to do just that, but found herself frozen, unable to complete the motion.
“Stupid fucking vow,” she snarled. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you now?”
The baby blinked again.
It was kind of pretty for a screaming, bald creature. Long black lashes swept out from its eyes, wet from its crying fit. Its irises were the palest green, like newly sprouted plants on Earth. If Tori looked hard enough, she could see the slightest bit of motion in them—a kind of lazy swirling of silver and green that gave away the child’s heritage.
