Page 29 of The Freedom You Seek

“See, youcanlisten. There’shope for you, Jama,” Dion said, and I wanted to punch him for the sarcastic tone in his voice as well as for the way he preened. The only thing missing was a condescending pat on my head, and I wouldn’t have put it past him to doso.

At least the smoke dissipated after I’d sat still for a minute. As I moved my arms to get my blood flowing again, I realized I hadn’t been afraid during the whole interaction. Not even once had my thoughts strayed back to the last time I’d had my hands bound behind my back.

But as soon as I figured this, a flashback threatened to rise to the surface. I promptly pushed the memories aside and searched for something to divert my attention.

The surrounding scenery wasn’t very diversified; I couldn’t figure out how endless rows of trees would help with my endeavor to keep my countenance. Which left me with only one choice—Dion had to do. “Disgusting control freak.”

“You have no idea, Jama. And yet, you’re wrong.”

Instead of answering, I huffed and created as much distance between myself and his stupidly huge body as it was possible on this horse.

Admittedly, my attempt at picking an argument hadn’t been the most sophisticated, but instead of trying again, I settled on giving him the silent treatment. Dion wasn’t picking up the conversation as well, and slowly, my eyes drifted shut.

Before I fell asleep, something else sank in. No matter how much Dion annoyed me, he’d also proven something unbelievable. Magic wasreal. I couldn’t deny it.

I must have dozed off, and the first thing I heard when I woke up was Dion talking to someone. Even though I’d lost much of my physical distance from Dion while napping, I made a conscious effort not to move and to keep my eyes closed. Hopefully, I was a good enough actor to make him—and whoever was with us—believe I was still sleeping.

“No, we didn’t see anyone, Kalag be blessed. She’s trouble enough herself.” Dion sounded annoyed. As ifhewasn’t irritating!

Another male voice I hadn’t heard before clicked his tongue. “Understandable, after the last few days. Honestly, I presumed she would be a weeping wreck.”

“She hasn’t cried once. Thank the gods for small blessings. She asked me a lot about our reasons for rescuing her, but I told her that someone who isn’t me will inform her once we reach the caves. It’s annoying enough that she’s remembering me wielding magic. I was forced to explain some of the basics. It was unavoidable, Antas.”

“That’s fine, Dion. Fig will be more cross with you that you didn’t inform her about the events of the recent days—but I am sure you are aware of it and still don’t care. Be it as it may, Fig has already decreed it would be the safest for her to stay with us.”

I liked Antas’ voice. It sounded calm and soothing, and I imagined him kind-looking. That he didn’t take any of Dion’s crap was a big plus as well. My curiosity flared up, but I continued to feign sleep to eavesdrop some more.

“Yes, Fig would prefer a lot of things.” I could almost hear Dion’s eye-roll, and he mustn’t like being told whatto do by his superiors. How ironic. “But in the end, I’m not a mind reader, so I acted as I thought.”

“That’s why I am telling you. He won’t be too happy with you. Especially since—” Antas stopped talking, and Dion tensed behind me.

“Especially since what? Spit it out, Antas!”

“Well, Fig wants you to take care of her. Said you two were already familiarized with each other.”

“No chance. Someone else can take her, and I’ll keep my distance. No way, Antas. Not going to happen.” Dion sounded sharp, and I felt a weird sting of insult and rejection before I told myself I wasn’t too keen on spending more time than necessary with the brooding control freak either.

“I have to admit that I think it would be good for you to do it, Dion.”

“Stop it, Antas. Just let it go.”

“Well, take it to Fig. Maybe you can convince him to reconsider Thain’s offer to look after the woman. He volunteered pretty eagerly.”

Dion turned rigid while the way his arms tightened around me bordered on painful, and maybe I was mistaken, but it sounded as if he growled as soon as Antas mentioned this Thain. Perhaps Dion had some kind of problem with him? I needed to investigate in hopes of acquiring some ammunition for my battle against the man I was riding with.

“Don’t look at me like that. Fig wants you to do it. I showed you a viable alternative. It isn’t my fault you don’t like that either.”

“Whatever. The least Fig can do is talk to me himself.”

I chose this moment to yawn and open my eyes. Sitting straighter, I blinked a few times and turned my head to the man called Antas.

He was tall, maybe even an inch or two taller than Dion, and definitely older. Where Dion appeared to be in his late twenties, Antas must have been around forty—but I’d always been horrendous at guessing people’s ages. His hair was chestnut brown, and the ends landed just below his shoulders. When his gaze met mine, I admired his eyes, which were colored in a stunning shade of forest green, and his stubble suggested that he mustn’t have shaved in several days. The most noticeable feature, though, was his right eyebrow—or rather, the lack thereof. Instead, a burn scar ran from his forehead down to his temple. Whatever injury he’d suffered had just missed his eye by inches. As I’d guessed, Antas looked calm, almost stoic, and carried an aura of reassurance that I immediately liked.

He shifted his attention to me and nodded in greeting. Although he didn’t smile, the absence of the polite gesture didn’t come across as unfriendly, more as if he saved his smiles for special occasions.

“Ah, you’re awake,” Dion said before anyone else could. “Just in time. We’ll be at the caves soon.”

He turned to Antas. “Antas, this is Nayana. Jama, meet Antas.”