Touch of Power. Maria Snyder V.

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      I opened my mouth to educate him—healers sickened like everyone else. We just recovered faster. And if the injury was severe enough or the disease too quick, we’d die. But I pressed my lips together. Let him figure it out for himself.

      The next morning, Kerrick shook my shoulders.

      “I’m awake,” I said when he didn’t stop.

      He rested his hands on my shoulders and gazed at me. “Will you heal Prince Ryne?”

      “No.”

      Kerrick didn’t say a word. He unlocked the manacles. After I gulped a few mouthfuls of bread, he reclaimed my wrist. And once again my world blurred to a smear of orange, red and yellow as I struggled to keep up with him.

      That night he confiscated my cloak before securing me to a tree. Curled up on my side with my arms bent uncomfortably around the trunk, I shivered.

      Voices worried over the mercenaries drawing nearer. I would have felt bad about alerting the mercs if I had the energy.

      The next morning, Kerrick shook me awake. “Will you heal Prince Ryne?”

      “No.”

      And that was my life for … I’d no idea. Wake, answer Kerrick’s question, eat, hike all day, eat, doze, shiver and repeat.

      Funny how a person’s body could adapt to the harshest of circumstances. Eventually, I wasn’t as exhausted at the end of the day. I kept up without being half dragged. But each night grew a bit cooler, and my teeth chattered a bit harder.

      On the sixth—seventh?—night, I huddled close to the small fire, sucking in as much warmth as I could before Kerrick pulled me away. Flea sat next to me. He wouldn’t meet my gaze and hadn’t since I’d attempted to escape.

      “Flea,” I said.

      He poked the fire, refusing to acknowledge me. I touched his arm. He yelped and jerked it away.

      “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

      He huffed, stabbing a stick deep into the embers. Bright orange sparks flew up.

      “I didn’t hurt you before,” I tried. The neck zap didn’t cause pain, just unconsciousness. “I’m sorry.”

      “Doesn’t mean anything,” Flea said. The firelight illuminated his profile. A few hairs sprang from his chin and small red pimples dotted his cheek. “You used me to escape. You pretended to like me and teach me to juggle. I was stupid to fall for it. But I won’t make that mistake again.”

      “I wasn’t pretending.”

      “Not listening.”

      “If your friend had been anyone else …”

      Flea turned his back to me, asking Belen a question. Belen lounged on the other side of him.

      When Kerrick hauled me over to a tree for the night, I decided I’d heal anyone else, except Kerrick. He could die a slow and painful death—preferably while cold and shackled to a tree.

      The next night, I tried again. But Flea refused to talk to me. I wondered why I bothered. Guilt, I supposed. I hadn’t deceived him, but I did use him to escape.

      Belen had kept his distance all this time, but tonight he sat near me. “Why won’t you heal Prince Ryne?” he asked.

      I sensed interest from everyone even though they acted casual. Kerrick stood watch, but when we camped out in the open, he stayed closer. In other words, he could hear me so I chose my words with care. “Before the plague, he … invaded Casis Realm and burned the city of Trenson to the ground, killing thousands and leaving the rest homeless.”

      “That’s an ugly rumor,” Belen said. “Trenson’s priests planned to start sacrificing nonbelievers. Ryne sent his troops in to stop them and the priests started the fire.”

      Hard to believe. Every major town in Casis had been ruled by a sect of priests. They wouldn’t destroy their own town or they’d have nowhere else to rule. Each sect had been very territorial.

      “Give me another reason,” Belen said.

      “He annexed the Nine Mountains. Stole all those natural resources from the Vyg Realm, which is his neighbor.”

      “He bought the rights to the mines. Vyg’s operations were losing money so Ryne purchased the companies from the government and made them profitable. Vyg owned the land and they received twenty-five percent of the profits.”

      “If that’s true, then he made them profitable by not spending any money on safety,” I said. “He lured workers from the other Realms with promises of high wages, except he sent them into dangerous mines without the proper equipment and he wouldn’t give them any time off. Hard to spend your wages when you’re not allowed to leave the mines. Not even to visit your family.”

      Belen’s gaze turned inward as if he considered my words. “There was a horrible cave-in before the plague.” He took my hand. “Who did you lose?”

      I jerked my hand back. “I didn’t lose anyone. I know right where they are. They can both be found under millions of pounds of rock.” I stood and planned to storm off into the woods for some privacy. But Kerrick blocked my way. I resisted the urge to punch him. Instead, I sat next to the nearest tree. He manacled my wrists.

      Later that night as I curled up, I let the tears leak from my eyes. I didn’t make a sound. I wouldn’t give Kerrick the satisfaction. Or the hope.

      On the tenth—twelfth?—night, something changed. Instead of one ladle, Kerrick filled my bowl with stew. He returned my cloak. The morning question remained, but he slowed his pace as we traveled through the forest. He stopped more often, listening, and he seemed distracted.

      He had multiple whispered conversations with Belen, who kept glancing at me in concern.

      Kerrick wouldn’t let Belen light a fire that evening. He paced. Not a good sign. Furrows creased Quain’s bald head and Flea was extra jumpy.

      “What’s going on?” I asked Belen.

      “Mercs closing in.”

      “Sorry.”

      He waved my apology away. “They would have caught up to us eventually. They started following us soon after we left Jaxton.”

      I considered. “You’re trying to make me feel better.”

      “What are you talking about?”

      “We were overnighting in caves before I escaped, but since then, we’ve been out in the open so we don’t get trapped.”

      Belen beamed with pride. “Smart girl.”

      “Not smart enough to get away from Kerrick,” I mumbled.

      His smile didn’t falter. “No one gets away from Kerrick in the woods.”

      “Found that СКАЧАТЬ