Daughter of Rebels

Chapter 14 - More Vague Nonsense

"You saved a deer."

Perhaps if there'd been less bitterness still swimming in her blood, the information would have delighted Mara. As it was, she was merely confused. She peered up at Eli, convinced he was mocking her, or maybe just trying to lead her astray, but the bashful tension on his face was genuine. His eyes darted to her, then away, as they walked abreast through wide, meandering corridors of the forest.

"I saved a deer," he repeated.

"Why?"

He couldn't shrug, not with Nick perched on his shoulders, but he wobbled his head from side to side in an approximation of the gesture. "I don't know, really. Habit? I was kind of a soft kid. Used to take up strays. And when my magic began to manifest, healing animals was good practice. I could fix a shattered leg on a horse or a broken wing on a bird, and they wouldn't go to the Order running their mouths."

Mara understood that, the first part anyway. She, too, had taken up strays as a girl. But she didn't want to tell him as much. It felt important, critically important, that she not give him anything of herself. Her trust in him was a fledgling thing, a product of necessity. All she truly knew of him was that Davy trusted him and that Beth said he would keep her safe. And that a sentient forest--it was sentient, she could sense that much now that she was paying attention--had apparently decided to trust him as well.

"So you came across a wounded deer and instinct just took over?" she prodded, dryly.

"Something like that. It was during a patrol, back when Davy and I were just cadets. I was young. I knew how to hold back my magic, how to hide it, but healing magic has a way of building up when you can't use it. I was still developing the skills to let that pressure off as often as I needed to."

"So you came across a wounded deer and instinct just took over," she repeated.

"Yes."

"And now Loftland loves you."

"'Love' might be a stretch. Now Loftland trusts me."

Content with the answer, for now, Mara turned her attention back to their surroundings. Though the sun hadn't yet risen, dawn teased the forest with tendrils of mist that formed around their knees and ankles.

"What time is it?" she asked, and he reached into his pocket and handed over the watch. She held it up so the moonlight hit the face, squinting to make out the location of the hands. "It's five thirty," she reported, handing the watch back over.

He waved a hand. "Hang on to it."

"It's not important to you?" If it wasn't, it ought to be. She turned the watch over in her fingers, admiring the craftsmanship. It was high quality, heavy and solid, the gears all but silent. The case was even etched, with some design that caught the moonlight, silver flashing at her in the shape of mountains.

"It is, but you'll take better care of it than I do." He seemed to hesitate, lowering his attention to the forest floor. "It was a gift." From whom, he didn't say. Didn't need to. "Maybe Nick could have it when he gets a little older."

Mara's fist clenched around the watch, the hinges digging into her palm. She wanted to throw the watch at him. Wanted to scream. Davy can pass down his own treasures to his own son in his own time!

"Besides," Eli said, "you ask about the time so often, it's more efficient for you to keep it."

She forced herself to smile. Forced herself to thank him. Forced herself not to hurl the precious offering into the woods.

He didn't speak again, and neither did she. They walked into the dawn, swirling mists giving way to low shafts of sunlight that set the entire forest to glittering. Her unjust anger dissolved with the morning dew, leaving her with the same peace she'd felt the night before. The forest floor shimmered gold beneath her feet, and warmth bathed her cheeks as the sun rose high enough to peek through the trees.