Page 89 of Red Demon

Her eyelids fluttered open, a sliver of defiance still clinging to their depths. “Survived worse,” she said, her raspy voice barely audible. But her defiance flickered and died, replaced by a glimmer of vulnerability as she closed her eyes again.

My heart hammered against my ribs. “Do you want me to…” I hesitated, the question felt heavy on my tongue. “Can I keep you warm?”

That vulnerability in her eyes deepened. Fear, maybe.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind,” I whispered, the words leaving my lips before I could stop them.

She nodded with a sigh.

Without another word, I eased my body into the leaves, spooning my chest to her back, offering what little warmth I could. She was so cold, more than I thought possible for anyone.

“You said I deserved to die. I wrote that down,” she whispered.

“I was wrong.” An unwonted spark ignited in my chest. “Bria, wherever you are, make sure she crosses that one out.”

“I’ve written that down before,” she said, with a shiver that wracked us both.

I began to hum my mother’s lullaby, the one Faruhar sang when I recovered in the cave. Her breathing, shallow and uneven, began to stabilize and lengthen. Her heartbeats fell in step with mine as our song became our breathing, and then the sounds of morning birds.

Chapter 37

Outlaw

The rhythmic rise and fall of Faruhar’s breathing kept my sleep that night shallow, tethered to wakefulness. I felt relieved her body radiated heat against mine. The first rays of dawn lit the ruined atrium and crumbling archway. Just as I was drifting back to sleep, that warmth left me, and I heard the thud of a knife leaving a sheath.

I sprang up.

Faruhar stood over Asher, her eyes wide. She held one of her swords, its blade glinting in the pale winter light, angled at his throat. Her gaze darted between me and Asher, who had crawled back with a gasp, his back to the wall.

“Who are you?” she demanded of Asher, her voice hoarse, her stance ready.

Ice shivered up my spine, but I pushed panic back down with a breath. I forgot about the journal; I should have left it in sight.

“Faruhar, you’re safe.” I made slow movements to stand between them. “I’m Jesse. That’s Asher, my brother. You can trust him.”

She frowned, her gaze dissecting Asher, who watched back with raw terror.

“Jesse?” he stammered, looking at me.

The sight of Asher’s face sent a jolt through me. Faruhar narrowed her eyes as I moved closer to my brother, unarmed. Her sword lowered a fraction, but her grip remained tight.

“Jesse?” she echoed, her voice uncertain. “Where…? Who tore my armor? I was injured.”

“Major Mahakal injured you,” I said. “Last night you attacked his camp. You got us out; Asher too.” I gestured back to my brother with pleading eyes.

“Mahakal.” That word sparked a dark fire to life. Her nostrils flared before her eyes refocused. “Sorry Asher; Jesse.”

Asher’s mouth fell open, his muscles relaxing only after she sheathed her sword.

I couldn’t decipher the scurry of emotions contorting her face. “Thank you,” she said in her whispery rasp. “For saving me.”

“Same,” I said, exhaling.

A few birds trilled across the frosted forest. She went to her bag in the corner, removed the journal, flipping through pages at a rush.

“She can’t remember?” Asher whispered, keeping his back pinned to the wall.

“Who are you looking for?” I asked Faruhar.