paying attention to where I was going. Choosing a direction at random, I jog through the trees, cursing after a minute of two when I still don’t recognise anything.
“Think, Clarissa, think,” I mutter, when I feel an almighty yank in my chest.
“Clarissa!” His voice sounds further away this time, and I know I’m going the wrong way, but I have a plan.
Closing my eyes, I focus on the place where his pull dwells within me, and gently reach out, stroking the connection between us. It practically hums under my touch, and if I pay attention, I can feel the pull directing me back to him.
Why didn’t you think of this earlier?
Opening my eyes, I start a slow jog, following the pull. I spot something on the ground and realise with triumph it’s the flask. Running over, I pick it up, examining it to check for leaks, but thankfully it looks intact, the water inside still safely contained. Taking a moment to focus on the pull, I follow it back to the tree where I left Vaeril—except he isn’t there.
Frowning, I look around to make sure this is where I left him, and I spot the pack and strips of fabric and trampled grass where we had been sitting. My mind stills when I see blood on one of the tree roots.
Stay calm, his wound probably just leaked and he’s gone to use the bathroom behind a tree or something, I rationalise, but as I scan the small clearing, I see no sign of him. He must be somewhere close since the bond brought me here. Closing my eyes, I focus again. The link between us is strong, he’s close by, I can feel him.
“Vaeril?” I try to keep my tone calm, but I’m unsuccessful, and I wince at the high note of worry in it.
“Clarissa?” His voice is much closer this time, and following the answering tug, I jog through the forest in the opposite direction I had originally taken. Rounding another trunk, I see him leaning against a tree, his face pale and sweaty, his breathing coming in large, heaving gasps.
“Why are you up? You crazy elf, are you trying to kill yourself?” I shout as I run to his side, but I lose my bravado as soon as I reach him and see his shaking hands. Worry sets in now. He seems so much worse than when I left him, and that can’t have been more than thirty minutes ago. “Are you okay?”
“I heard your gasp, I was trying to find you.” He looks up at me and I feel something within me twist with guilt. He was trying to find me. His eyes narrow as he examines my face. “You’ve been crying, are you okay?”
I’ve cried more in the last couple of days than I ever have in my life. Caring for people is making me soft.
That’s not true. You’ve never had a reason to cry before because you weren’t living, you didn’t have a reason to, my inner voice whispers, and I realise it’s right, although it doesn’t stop me from hurting. Caring for people is painful. However, the benefits are so much greater than the pain. I don’t know where these great words of wisdom are coming from, I’m still new to all this, so how could I know that?
Vaeril grunts in agony and I drag my thoughts back to the present, sliding an arm around his back and putting his arm over my shoulder. “Let’s get you back to the clearing, I found the flask.”
It takes a couple of attempts for him to push away from the tree, even with my help, but once we have, we make our way slowly back through the trees until we reach the clearing.
“Water’s no good—you need to clean it with spirits,” he mumbles as we walk, and I let out a snort.
“I didn’t have the chance to steal a bottle of vodka before we escaped from the castle,” I reply dryly, hauling him back to our makeshift camp.
“I’ve got some in my pocket,” he replies, patting the back pocket of his trousers before reaching out to steady himself on a nearby tree, taking deep breaths and another unsteady step.
“You’ve…You could have told me this before I went hunting for the water flask!” I practically shout, frustration getting the better of me. I know we will still need the water, it will be vital in keeping us alive, but my worry is making me crabby.
“Oops.” He doesn’t sound