Fires of War (War and Deceit #4) - Erin O'Kane Page 0,126
the corner and hunt down my mates. It doesn’t take me long to find Tor—Wilson had practically led me to him—but I am aware of a watchful pair of eyes following me until I’m wrapped in Tor’s strong arms.
Three Weeks Later
As I carry the bucket of water back through the camp, I feel their eyes on me, but I don’t react. Instead, I keep my head high and try to keep my movements fluid so as not to jerk my back. The last thing I need is to have a spasm in front of everyone again.
Reaching the tent where the cook is getting everything ready for supper, I push through the entrance to find her with her back to me, leaning over a large pot. Her assistants glance up from their jobs of peeling and chopping vegetables, freezing when they realise who I am.
“Don’t stop!” Cook yells, looking up from her pot at the startled assistants. “We’re too busy for you to—Oh, good!” Realising someone else has entered the tent, she spins around, brandishing her wooden spoon at me. “About time, if you just put it over…” Her eyes go from the bucket in my hands up to my face, then my cloak, clearly marking me for who I am as she trails off, her skin going pale with horror.
“Apologies for the tardiness,” I respond with a twitch of my lips before placing the pail near the assistants, who are still watching with their mouths open.
No one was free when the cook requested more water, and the steward hadn’t wanted to ask me. In fact, they didn’t ask me at all. I overheard and took it upon myself. I hadn’t been busy, and I wanted to help. I’m tired of being treated like an invalid.
Straightening with a wince, I turn to the cook, suddenly feeling uncomfortable under their stares. “Do you need anything else? I can help chop…” I don’t even bother to finish my sentence. The cook is shaking her head so vigorously, she’s sure to give herself a headache.
“No, please don’t inconvenience yourself, beloved. Thank you for the water, but please, just rest. Let us do the work for you.”
Fighting back my disappointment, I force my lips to twitch up into a semblance of a smile, dipping my head in acknowledgement. I turn on my heel and leave the tent, weaving my way through the campfires, needing to escape into the peace of the forest.
I’ve been getting a lot of looks since we returned from Arhaven. The guards who defected to our side hero worship me, telling battle tales around the campfires, and soon enough, the others who were there joined in. Stories of me turning my enemies to ash with a single touch started to circulate amongst the camp. Of me facing off against the king and rising up against him, promising retribution for everything he’s done to me and the slaves. Of epic magical battles with the evil prince, where I sacrificed myself to save everyone else, earning a terrible wound in the process.
Everyone has been treating me differently, even the chiefs from the tribes. Most people regard me with wide eyes and reverence, and after one evening where my back spasmed at supper, causing me to fall to the ground and writhe in pain, some look at me with pity. I hate it. I also haven’t missed the scared, hushed whispers by some who have asked how I’m supposed to fight against the elf queen if I am injured so badly. Those people have been quickly hushed by a growl from one of my mates, but it’s usually too late, I’ve heard them—and they’re right.
I slink into the forest at the edge of our camp. Darkness surrounds me as I venture deeper, the sounds and stress of the camp fading away as I immerse myself in nature. My inner wood elf feels at home in the forest, and I let out a deep breath, my shoulders dropping as I relax. Expanding my awareness, I smile as the forest welcomes me, its gentle hum of collective consciousness greeting me, flowers blooming in my wake.
“They don’t want your help. You make them feel uncomfortable.” Eldrin’s low voice comes from behind one of the large trees, making me pause. Of course he heard, and of course he knew where I’d escape to. Frowning, I cross my arms and round the tree, finding him leaning against the trunk and staring out into the dark. Sensing my glare, he rolls