“This is sounding better by the minute,” I mutter, but I move to the woale, empty one of the satchels, and start looking for rocks. Even as I do, I keep thinking about that touch, how he caressed my cheek.
It was almost like he wanted to touch me.
41
A short time later, our woale is tied to a tree a fair distance from the road, grazing. My bag is filled with small rocks and hangs heavily over my shoulder, and clacks so loudly that I have to press it against my chest to keep the stones from banging against one another.
I’m also covered in mud from head to toe, and because it’s chilly, I’m wearing the darkest cloak I own. I look like a mess, but I do blend in the shadows at least.
We head carefully through the woods, moving slowly, Aron lifting me carefully over craggy spots of terrain where the uneven ground falls away in a rocky crevice or two. It seems to take forever, but then I can smell the campfire on the breeze and hear the low murmur of voices.
We’ve arrived.
“This tree is good,” Aron murmurs, pointing at a tall, leafy bastard nearby. I see the branches don’t start until about five feet up, maybe more, which means I’m going to need a boost.
I suck in a breath and then nod. I want to complain and whine, but that won’t do any good. I’m just scared, but Aron promises he’ll make sure I’m safe, and I have to believe that he’s right and it’s not just arrogance talking. I pull the heavy bag of stones off my shoulder and then set it carefully on the ground. “You’ll have to pass that up to me.”
He nods, and then cups my filthy cheeks as I look up at him. “Stay safe, Faith. I need you.”
I gaze up at him, at his beautiful, godlike face and stern features. Coming from any other man, I would think that’s practically a declaration of love, but Aron’s impossible to read. I just nod and move toward the tree.
Aron grabs me by my waist and lifts me overhead as if I weigh nothing, and I manage to flail enough to grab the limb with my feet and heave myself up. Once I’m settled, he hands me the bag carefully, and I loop it over my shoulder, then begin to climb. I move higher and higher, trying not to look down because I’m too high up to fall safely. I mean, sure, I fell from a large height when we were escaping Tadekha’s floating city, but I also landed on Aron. If I crunch to the ground here and break something, the wizard—and Liar Aron—is just going to put me down like a crippled racehorse.
I shake that image out of my head, then climb a bit higher. Once I’m safely hidden amongst the leaves, I peer down and look for Aron. He nods up at me and then gestures off into the distance, indicating where he’ll be hiding.
I give him a thumbs up and then pull out my first rock, studying the small camp. It’s visible given how high up I am, and I can see everyone.
Aron’s right, the fire is small. Beyond the cluster of tents, I see men in armor with sword belts, standing around and talking. There’s one guy in robes and a short, black beard who looks like every cliché of a wizard ever.
I peer into the shadows, pulling a rock into my hand even as I do. I have to admit, I'm less interested in the soldiers and more interested in seeing the other version of Aron. Is he going to look the same? Will I automatically know it's the wrong one? I scan the soldiers' faces and as one laughs and takes a pull from a small metal flask, I realize they are completely relaxed and have no idea we're here. Good. Silently, I encourage the one to keep drinking. A drunk guard will be easier for us to take down. I rub my fingers on the edge of the rock in my hand, trying to decide the best moment to throw.
Something rustles in the bushes below my tree. I freeze, my free hand clutching my bag of stones against my belly so they don't clack against one another. A guard? Have I been discovered?
To my surprise, a woman emerges. She's got long, curling ropes of dark hair that swing to the middle of her