Page 146 of Balance

“Miles…” Was he still teetering on the edge, or was he ready to jump? No matter what it was, I was here to help him.

I could help him, right?

“What are you looking for?” I asked again.

He pressed his lips together, his attention still on the ground. Slowly, he stood, dropping the stone. “I’m not sure yet,” he said slowly, finally. But his focus, his tone, was of distracted indifference; it didn’t seem like he was talking to me at all. “I guess I’ll know when I find it.”

A side effect of removing Kathleen’s barrier was that now, without any sort of magical opposition, Miles’s mushrooms made a reappearance. Even though I, apparently, had been doing quite well in leading us on my own, the additional help seemed to hasten our journey.

It felt like almost no time had passed before we were back at the river. We took a short break, napping for an hour each and eating some fish, before we started following the river back from the direction where we’d been washed. This time, I let Miles lead the way.

My attention wandered until Miles stopped so quickly I almost ran into him. He didn’t appear to notice—his attention was on the pink sky—and he wiped his face with the back of his forearm.

“Miles?” I stepped around him, trying to get his attention. “What—”

“It’s getting dark,” he said, twisting his hands around the strap of his bag. “We should stop for the night.”

Be that as it may, why was he acting nervous now? “What’s wrong?”

Was it the Snallygaster?

He scratched at his arm once more, and his nervousness seemed to intensify as we moved into the shelter of the trees. He seemed on edge, fidgety, and an unsettled expression was passing over him. “You should rest.”

“Is it Kathleen’s dragon-duck?” I asked. “Otherwise, I’m okay.” I lowered my arms—catching myself in time before I rubbed my eyes. It wasn’t any problem at all. I could keep walking for hours still—even through the night. I refused to be the weakest link.

“No, I don’t feel any spell work nearby.” He trailed his fingers along my arm. “But you really need to sleep. I can’t take you back looking like this. The others will kick the crap out of me. We’re getting close. We have plenty of time to rest.”

My ears perked. If we were near, then why wouldn’t we keep going? “Then shouldn’t we—” I yawned, interrupting myself.

“That’s not the only reason,” he answered, gripping his shoulder-strap. “Kathleen left me what I needed, so I can do that ritual.”

The last of my exhaustion vanished. “Which one?” I asked, mentally replaying her instructions. I wasn’t certain of all his ingredients—but Miles had been looking for mandrake. “Not the one that you left home to do?”

“That one.” Miles’s voice wavered—and if I wasn’t mistaken, it was almost as if he was afraid. “The full moon’s energy is still lingering, so it’s the last chance this cycle that I’ll have.”

“We should get back.” My fingers flexed. “You should wait until next month.”

My statement stirred something in him, and he shot me an almost panicked look. “No,” he replied, and on his face was a wavering grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “It has to be now.”

But…

I didn’t like this uncertain air. He’d been so sure he could do everything before, so why, now, would there be hesitance?

“Miles…” Was there anything I could do to help? Or was it one of those rituals where a witch stripped naked under the moonlight in solitude? Maybe that was why he’d been trying to get me to go to sleep—to avoid trauma.

“What in the world are you thinking now?” Miles asked, narrowed gaze peering down at me.

The cautious judgement in his brown eyes caused my skin to prickle—I wasnotthat bad.

I pulled my hands from his, stepping back, ready to put some space between us. “If you’re going to be naked, just stay on the other side of camp.”

“Why would I be naked?” Miles’s voice trailed after me, but I couldn’t see his face anymore—my eyes were trained to the ground.

I turned my eyes up, glancing at him under my lashes. “Are you telling me that witchesdon’tbask naked in the light of the full moon?”

Miles’s face was red as he stammered out his response. “Some do.”

That was basically an admission. I narrowed my eyes at him, taking in his flustered shuffling and pink skin. After all, I might not be looking in his general direction for the foreseeable future. “Doyou?”