Touch of Power Page 26

“The knives are yours,” Belen said. “And we should teach you how to swing a sword.”

Kerrick coughed. “No, we shouldn’t. She’s dangerous enough.” He ended the discussion by ordering us to gather our packs.

We said goodbye to Bianca, Peni, Melina and Mom.

“You’re welcome to come back anytime,” Mom said to me. “We’ll always have a room for you. No charge. I know what you must have done for my daughter, but don’t you worry, we won’t say a word.”

I hugged her in thanks. It felt good to be embraced even if it was for only a moment.

We headed north. No clouds marred the bright blue sky. The air held a cool crisp scent of leaves and earth—gorgeous weather that was perfect for hiking. Kerrick led, and for the first time since I’d been rescued from Jaxton’s jail, I felt…not quite content since anxiety, worry and fear still shadowed me. But more alive.

When I used my magic to heal others, I had a purpose and felt satisfaction over helping another. I was needed. Even if this “adventure” didn’t last long, it had roused me from the nothingness that my life had been before. Three wasted years. Even though I’d healed a few children, I could have done so much more, but had been too afraid.

Despite the men’s routine, I decided to help when we stopped for the night. As the designated cook, Loren prepared the meal. His concoctions were edible, but plain, so I went in search of something…tastier.

Of course Kerrick followed me. “Where are you going?”

I bit my lip to trap my sarcastic reply. Instead, I said, “If I had intended to break my word, I would have done it last night after you passed out.”

He didn’t respond right away. Finally, he said, “Don’t wander too far.” He returned to camp.

Interesting. I looped around, inspecting the plants. Tara had taught me which ones could be used for fevers and other maladies. She explained that in a few cases like minor injuries, plants worked just as well and would save our healing energy for the more dire cases. In the six months I’d been her student, I had learned so much. But to her, it had only been a small portion of her vast experience and expertise. I not only mourned her death, but the loss of all her knowledge, as well.

I found a few sprigs of rosemary and returned. Ignoring the collective sigh when I appeared, I stripped off the leaves and handed them to Loren.

He sniffed them in suspicion. “What’s this?”

I guess it would take more than my word for them to trust me. “Rosemary.” No glimmer of recognition. “It’s to make your stew taste better. Don’t you know the basic herbs and spices?”

“No. I took this job in self-defense. Quain burns everything. Belen thinks jerky is all we need to survive. Flea’s idea of a good meal is something that hasn’t been in a garbage can first. And Kerrick poisoned us—”

“Not on purpose,” Kerrick said. “The meat looked done.”

I realized then that Kerrick had assigned Quain first watch. Another oddity. “Well, my cooking skills are rudimentary, but I know herbs and can help you if you’d like.”

Loren glanced at Kerrick, before he said, “Sure.” He returned the leaves to me.

I broke them into little pieces and sprinkled them into the stew.

“Speaking of food,” Kerrick said. “Belen, do you remember when we were in school and Ryne had gotten upset over the amount of wasted food?”

Here we go. Kerrick was as subtle as a thunderstorm.

Belen chuckled. “Yeah. He’d been assigned garbage duty for fighting.”

The real story.

“I wouldn’t call it fighting,” Kerrick said. “He was protecting the new kid from Stanslov.”

“Good thing Master Fang came when he did. Otherwise, Ryne would have been turned into pulp.”

“Instead, his punishment was two weeks of dealing with garbage.” Kerrick placed another log on the fire. “By the end of those two weeks, Ryne had worked out a way to donate all the extra food to the poor in town.”

I debated ignoring them, but this could be a good opportunity to get more information. “Did you meet Ryne in school, then?” I asked Belen.

“Yeah. The three of us attended boarding school for brats.”

“Brats? I can’t believe you’d fit in that group,” I said.

Belen’s deep laugh vibrated in my chest. “I didn’t.” He jabbed a finger at Kerrick. “Even though I’m four years older than him, his father insisted I go along so I could keep him out of trouble.” Belen huffed. “Didn’t work. And every time he caused problems, I’d be sucked in and we’d both be punished.”

“You’d have been bored otherwise,” Kerrick said.

“Are you two related?” I asked Belen.

“No. My parents worked for his family for years. We grew up together.” Then Belen sobered. “The plague took my mother and my older sister. But my younger sister survived, and Izak, one of Kerrick’s brothers, lived.”

Quiet descended over the campsite.

“As far as I know, my great-aunt Yasmin is still alive,” Kerrick added. “Which doesn’t make sense since she’s ancient and has been ill for as long as I can remember.”

Nothing about the plague made sense. The healers had tried every herb and tonic they knew to heal the victims to no avail.

“Where is your sister now?” I asked Belen.

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