Leah's Hero - Miranda Martin Page 0,66
joy. Ziva throws her arms around me, and a moment later all the other survivors surround us. Angota and Rakstan join them, and the group helps us forward.
They lead us to a path that ascends between two large trees. Passing to the other side, it angles up a cliff face, turning back and forth, until we reach a wide flat cliff. A heavy leather hangs against the wall. We pass through the leather, and for the first time since I can remember, the rain stops.
Urukol stays by my side, but the passage we’re in isn’t wide enough for both of us. He steps ahead and leads the way. Everyone is talking at once. It’s a cacophony of words and noise. I hear it all, but it’s a white noise, I can’t make sense of it.
Someone wraps a blanket around my shoulders and guides me to a seat. I huddle over on myself, shivering so hard my teeth are chattering. They position Urukol on a seat in front of me, wrapping warm leathers around him as well.
Our eyes lock, and despite the chattering, I smile. As one we reach towards each other, and his big hand closes on mine.
“Ah seriously?” Michael asks.
I hear someone punch him, and he grunts. “Shut up,” Mick hisses.
Everyone is looming around us. Shuffling around each other, pushing and pulling, but it’s all peripheral. Urukol leans closer until our foreheads are touching. I close my eyes and wait for the warmth to penetrate my bones.
Someone stokes up a fire, casting orange light and causing shadows to dance around us. Urukol wraps his arm around my shoulders. I welcome its weight, it’s comforting.
“Treasure,” he whispers.
My heart races at the single word that I do understand. A single word that carries with it a breadth of meaning and intention that no language barrier can hinder. Warmth flushes across my body as I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.
“Can you help with this please?” Asia asks.
“Sure,” I say, putting down the thin strips of wood I’m attempting to weave into a basket.
“Put your finger there,” Asia instructs, and I do as she asks.
She ties off the leather strip that finishes a new container.
“Thanks,” she says and gives me a smile.
Clickity, clickity, clickity, clickity.
The sound of the knife is rhythmic, almost musical. I look over my shoulder and watch Urukol chopping the vegetables. Even with his broken arm, the speed and accuracy of his prep is so fast it is incredible.
He scoops the orange and green vegetable into the pan he has heating over the stove. A scent similar to lemon tinged with ginger fills the air. My mouth is watering in an instant. Asia looks up and now her smile is radiant.
“Oh wow,” she says.
“Right?” I ask.
Urukol looks at us and holds up a finger, indicating we should wait. He tosses the pan making the vegetables sizzle loudly. He picks up a thick strip of meat and lays it down in the pan. It crackles as it touches, then the smells filling the room become a cornucopia of delight. There are layers to the smells that I can’t interpret in any way except my stomach’s grumbling with a hunger I didn’t realize I felt, and my mouth’s watering.
“You’ve got a keeper,” Asia says.
“I’ll admit it, I’m jealous,” Mick says coming out of the rear storage area. “That smells amazing.”
I smile, but I can barely take my eyes off Urukol. His scars are sexy. The way he deftly handles the knife, and he can cook? What isn’t there to be in love with? Butterflies dance in my stomach just looking at him.
It’s hard to focus, but I force myself to pay attention to the basket I’m weaving.
“How long do you think we have?” Mick asks.
“Couple days?” Asia offers.
“That soon?” Mick asks.
“You want to stay here when we know the Order is close?” I ask.
“I don’t want to travel in the rain,” Mick says. “You know that better than all of us.”
I smile and nod. I don’t want to either, but I know, more than any of them probably, that the Zmaj will keep us safe. Urukol will protect me and them.
There’s a commotion outside as some of the others return. The three new Zmaj enter first, led by Thargar. Mick’s eyes follow him and her lips part as she exhales heavily. I don’t miss that look or the smile that forms with it.
The three Zmaj laugh and it’s clear, even though I can’t speak their language well, that