The Kiss of Deception (The Remnant Chronicles #1) - Mary E. Pearson Page 0,109

to me.”

I was several yards away when she called to me. “But I can help you in other ways. Come here tomorrow, and I’ll tell you more about the gift. I promise you will find that useful.”

Did I really have time for an old woman’s stories? I had plenty of my own from Morrighan. I wasn’t even sure I would be here tomorrow. By then I’d be rested, and my opportunity to leave might arise. I didn’t intend to be dragged much farther across this wilderness. My chance would come with or without her help.

“I’ll try,” I said and walked back toward camp.

She stopped me again, her voice softer. “The others, they couldn’t tell you what your book said because they don’t read. They were shamed to tell you.” Her pale eyes squinted. “Even we are guilty of not nurturing gifts, and the gifts that aren’t fed shrivel and die.”

* * *

When I got back to camp, Eben was still watching me, true to his task even while he lay with the wolves as if he were one of them. I heard raucous talk and laughter coming from the large tent in the center of camp. The respects seemed to have escalated to the jovial variety. Reena and Natiya greeted me.

“Do you want to go into your carvachi to rest first or join the others and eat?” Reena asked.

“Carvachi? What do you mean?”

Natiya chirped up like an eager little bird, “The blond one named Kaden, he bought Reena’s carvachi for you so you could sleep in a real bed.”

“He what?”

Reena explained that Kaden had only rented it for whatever time I was here, and she would sleep in the tent or another carvachi. “But mine is the finest. It has a thick down mattress. You will sleep well there.”

I started to protest, but she insisted, saying the coin he gave her would be useful when they traveled south. She needed it more than she needed a carvachi to herself, and there would be many more nights alone ahead of her.

I wasn’t sure which I wanted more—another good meal or to lie on a real mattress with a roof over my head, far from the snores and body noises of men. I chose the meal first, remembering that my strength was important.

We filed into the tent along with three other women who had just brought some trays of ribs from the fire. My Vendan escorts sat on pillows in the middle of the tent, along with the five men of the camp. Their long soak in the hot springs had washed the grime away and brought color back to their skin. Griz’s cheeks gleamed pink. They drank from ram horns and ate with their fingers, though I had already seen that utensils were available. You might be able to offer civilization to a barbarian, but that didn’t mean they would partake of it.

None of them seemed to notice me enter, and then I realized they didn’t know it was me. With a bath, a beaded scarf on my head, and the colorful clothes, I wasn’t the filthy wild girl who had arrived in camp earlier today. The women set two of the trays down in front of the men, then took the third to the corner where the pillows were piled high and sat there together. I remained standing, staring at my captors, who feasted and laughed, throwing their heads back with bellows like they were in a king’s court without a care in the world. It was a nettle in my saddle. I had a care—a little thing called my life. I wanted them to have a care too.

I groaned, and the laughter stopped. Heads turned. I fluttered my lashes as if I saw something. Kaden stared at me, trying to regain focus, and he finally realized who I was. His face flushed, and he cocked his head to the side, as if he was taking a second look to decide whether it was really me.

“What is it?” Finch asked.

My eyes rolled upward, and I grimaced.

“Osa azen te kivada,” Griz said to the man at his side. The gift.

Malich said nothing, but his eyes roamed leisurely over my new attire.

Kaden scowled. “What now?” he asked, short on patience.

I waited, poised, until they all sat a little higher.

“Nothing,” I said unconvincingly and went to sit with the women. I felt like I was back in the tavern using a new set of skills to control the unruly patrons. Gwyneth would love