Of Caverns and Casters ✓ [TLRQ #1]

Chapter 14 - Sean

I claim to be going to sleep more to keep her from venting her frustration at me than because I'm actually tired. I mean, I'm not much happier about matters than she is, but complaining about them's not going to do any good.

I don't understand the Traders' view of women. Males and females have, on average, equivalent mental capacities. That's all that matters. Such primitive people. Fitting, perhaps, that they should be the ones to return me home, bring us to the backwards town I thought I'd never have to set foot in again. But even going back to everything I ran from so long ago is better than dying out in the cold.

And even the Traders thinking Riveirre is my slave is better than us wandering the mountains until the world forgets us.

* * *

A wad of something large and soft drops onto my face. Forcefully.

Annoyed, I shove the woven stuff-sack off and stand, spotting the woman from the night before in the flap to the tent.

"What?" I ask, cross.

"We're moving in thirty minutes. Pack up." Her accent is rough and guttural, nothing like the casual tones of Xela or the flowy, run-together voice of my mother.

"I take it we missed breakfast?"

She narrows her eyes and tosses a small package at me. "Day's meals." Then she turns and ducks back out.

I peek into the bag. Dried fruit, some nuts, jerky—meager, but enough.

I start gathering my stuff. "Riveirre. Wake up."

She sighs, shifting. The corners of her lips are slightly upturned, as if dreaming of some pleasant world. Her long, dark lashes flutter faintly. Otherwise, she remains still.

My eyes search her face. The gentle curve of her jaw, much kinder in sleep than in her conversations with me. The light catching her cheekbones, high and elegant. The messy spill of her dark hair across the pillow, wavy and somehow meticulous despite her sleep. The vibrancy in her skin, pale and smooth, cheeks tinted with a light natural blush.

The clamor from outside tugs me back to my senses, and I nudge her with my toe. "Riveirre. Wake up."

She hums and stretches, and I swing my bag over my shoulder. She doesn't seem in any hurry, or even like she's fully realized our surroundings, so I announce, "We're leaving in twenty-seven minutes."

"What?" Now her eyes open. "Why didn't you wake me before now? How long have you been awake? Did I miss breakfast?" She scrambles up and swats me on the shoulder. "Why didn't you wake me up?" she accuses again.

I smirk, letting her believe what she wants about how long I've been up, and reply, "Well, I tried, but you just sighed at me and didn't move."

She glares and gathers her things.

"Here," I say when she's done. "Breakfast."

Surprised, she takes the proffered piece of jerky. "Where did you get this?"

"The kind donkey-woman." I jerk my thumb behind me, biting into my own share.

She laughs, shifting her satchel on her shoulder. "Are you talking about the one from last night? With the mule?"

A mule? Isn't that just a less ridiculous term for a donkey? I maintain, "It's not a horse, it is a pack animal, and it sounds like a donkey. It's a donkey."

"No, it's not, but it doesn't matter." She pulls her hair back, twisting it into a bun. "Didn't you say we were supposed to be somewhere?" She finishes securing her hair with a leather band. A single strand falls to brush her cheek, and she frowns at it, tucking the piece behind her ear.

I turn to leave the tent. "Yeah. Help me pull this down. We've got a lot of walking ahead of us."