Page 93 of Balance

There was a gash over his chin, curving upward and to the right over his dimple until it stopped in the middle of his cheek, and his left jaw was already turning a nasty purple. He flinched as I lightly traced my fingers over the unmarred edge of the wound, ignoring the blood that slowly continued to seep from the wound.

“You might scar,” I whispered, moving to my knees as I ripped the bottom of my shirt, holding the cloth to his face.

I also hurt, but surely it wasn’t this bad.

“I don’t care.” He moved his hands down my arms, his eyes had returned to their normal deep brown and were seeking out mine in worry. “Areyouokay?”

“I’mfine.” I was barely able to stifle my hysterical laugh. How could he be so worried about me at a time like this?

I reached for him, an indescribable urge washing over me, needing to check him for further injuries—nothing else, other than Miles being okay, would be able to settle the knots twisting in my stomach—but he released me then, moving to his feet with a stiff slowness that proved that he was not fine at all.

“I didn’t like the sound of thatthingearlier. We need to find someplace to stay tonight.” He stood, a resolute figure in beaten clothes, holding my shirt to his face as he looked upstream. “Let’s find shelter.”

I rolled to my feet and wrapped my arms over my stomach. The temperaturewasdropping, and it was growing darker. We really did need to find someplace safe and warm. But…

“What about the others?” I asked, following his gaze. “Won’t they be looking for us?”

“Probably. But it will probably take a while, and they won’t be able to get too far in the dark, not even Titus. It’ll be fine,” he added, noticing my torn expression. His other hand sought mine, squeezing gently. “Let’s get going before it’s too dark. I have some supplies, but they’re still wet. We’ll come back here in the morning and follow the river back. Maybe we will even meet up with them before lunch.”

He seemed so sure, and it made perfect sense. We had, after all, a pretty obvious trail to follow.

But in that case, what was this sinking stone in my stomach?

“I t-think there’s s-something nearby.” I shivered, grabbing at Miles’s shirt and pulling him to a stop in front of me. We’d been walking for a good hour, and dusk swiftly gave way to night. Even though the moonlight was bright tonight, it still wasn’t enough to be veryhelpful.

He’d stopped once, trying, unsuccessfully to make a torch. Even though there was the beginning of a spark, the matches were too damp.

But not all hope was lost. What Miles had completely underestimated was my natural ability to move through the woods.

“What?” He glanced back at me over his shoulder. His bleeding had stopped, but the sight of his injury caused my heart to ache. It was my fault that he was hurt like this. That any of this had happened.

All because I’d acted without thinking.

But the injury seemed to be the last thing on Miles’s mind. “How do you know?”

I bit my lip, unable to explain with words how the darkness seemed to sharpen my senses, at least in this type of environment. Obviously, this wasn’t the most perfect navigation tool—I’d tripped over Finn’s big head not long ago—but it was better than stumbling around blindly while trying to find someplace to stay.

We would freeze to death at this rate.

Besides, I didn’t know anything for certain. There was only a vague sense, and an odd prickle at the base of my spine, urging me forward.

“C-come on,” I said instead, grabbing his hand and taking the lead.

“But…” Miles began, but then paused, hand tightening over mine. “Okay then.”

It was harder to do while touching someone. Just the feel of his skin on mine was incredibly distracting. But I pressed forward, following my senses before we finally arrived… somewhere unexpected.

“Oh…” I released Miles’s hand and touched the flat, wall-like surface. It went on in both directions as far as I could see—at least with the light we had—and was made entirely of stone and dirt. This was definitely not any sort of acceptable shelter.

What happened to the tranquil grottos of my childhood?

“Oh,” Miles echoed, sounding slightly more enthused. He stopped beside me, placing the palm of his hand against the surface and when he spoke, it was without an ounce of sarcasm. “Good job.”

Good job? I glanced at him—I’d led us into a dead end.

But he didn’t seem disappointed at all. For the first time since all of this had begun, he grinned. The moment was ruined, of course, by the muffled curse as he pressed his hand to his cheek once again.

At least he had seemed happy, even if only for a second.