Understanding dawned. The Killup were another race that lived on Dakkar, that lived even further east than the Dead Lands. I’d seen a few under the Dead Mountain. They’d worn the slave mark of the Ghertun as well.
I stepped around his pyroki.
It embarrassed me but I said, “Thank you. For your protection.”
I’d meant what I said. If I had traveled this way, had a pack found me, I would’ve been torn to pieces before I’d ever even seen them coming.
“Do not thank me for killing,” he said, his tone on the edge of a growl. “I already told you what I am.”
I didn’t know what to make of his words but he stepped up to his pyroki and hefted off the heavy travel sacks attached to her side. He murmured something to her in Dakkari and slowly, she lay on the forest floor.
“Can I help?” I asked.
“Get the water skin and the uudun,” he said, jerking his head towards the discarded sack.
My own pain was forgotten as I knelt in front of the bag and pulled both from its depths.
Then I came to kneel at his pyroki’s side and watched as he took the golden fire basin from the sack and began to build a fire. When it flared to life, I couldn’t help but look over at a fallen jrikkia, at its open dark eyes. In a way, I felt sorry for it. Beasts and animals weren’t like us. They didn’t kill for the sake of it. They killed to survive, when they were hungry.
Reaching forward, I leaned towards the jrikkia and closed its open gaze, my fingers drifting to the impossibly soft fur around its pointed ears.
Tears pricked my eyes. Perhaps leftover emotion from the terror, the shock…and sadness that these creatures had to die so that we could live. But I understood the way of this world. It was cruel and unfair. I was simply glad to be breathing.
The horde king was watching me, the fire flickering in his gaze, making his eyes appear like molten embers. Slowly, I pulled my hand away from the beast and turned my attention back to his pyroki.
Out of curiosity, I let my power build between the pyroki and me. I had never tried my gift on a creature before, only on Dakkari, on humans, and on Ghertun. I imagined cupping the energy between us and I pushed, pushed into the empty space…focusing…
I found nothing.
I dropped the one-sided connection, my shoulders sagging slightly. Perhaps I could have eased her pain. She had helped to protect me, after all.
When I looked back to the horde king, he was heating his sword in the flames and my stomach dropped. I knew this method of healing. My eyes went back to the wounds along the pyroki’s side and saw what her master had seen. The deepest gash along her side hadn’t clotted yet. All the wounds were deep.
“You will need to do this,” he rasped. “You are not strong enough to hold her down.”
My first reaction was to protest, but I knew it wouldn’t help. He was right. I could be useful to her if I did this, though she might hate me even more than she already did.
“Lysi?” he rasped.
I swallowed, my gut churning.
“I will.”
He nodded.
“Brave kalles.”
Chapter Thirteen
I was sweating by the end of it and the pyroki did, indeed, hate me all the more for it.
But the deed was done and her wounds had been sealed after they had been cleaned. I sat back, feeling strangely ill, the scent of burning flesh still lingering in my nostrils. The horde king was still kneeling by his creature’s side, winding thick swaths of bandage around her flank.
He cared for the creature. Tremendously. That much was obvious. And even though I didn’t like him, or trust him, his obvious love for her made me soften towards him. It meant his heart wasn’t only empty darkness and hatred if he could love.
After it was done and the pyroki had closed her eyes, resting, the Vorakkar rose and said, “Stay here. I will return shortly.”
“Where are you going?” I asked in mild alarm, still feeling like the remnants of the dried meat I’d consumed earlier would make a reappearance.
He jerked his head towards the shadowed line of the trees. “To wash. There is a stream not far. I will bring back water for you and then we will eat.”
He stooped down to gather the water skins we’d used to wash his pyroki’s wounds…and then he stalked