Sember (Forestfolk, Book 2)

Chapter 23a

Jastin was still breathing.

I exhaled with relief as I knelt by his unconscious body. He hadn't lost any more blood. Now, if he would only wake up, I wouldn't have to drag him out of here.

I sat next to him for a while, waiting.

And waiting.

The hard ground was very uncomfortable. I considered unpacking a bedroll, but had no desire to spend any more time in this awful cave. It was either sleep here, or haul Jastin out.

* * *

"Sember."

Bright sunlight blinded me as my eyes creaked open. "Jastin?"

"Sember, are you in pain?" He sat next to me, blue eyes filled with concern.

"I don't think so."

He touched the gash on my forehead, and I winced.

"Okay, maybe a little." I sat up and groaned, cupping my sore shoulder.

"What happened?"

"You are not a lightweight."

He watched me rub my shoulder for a moment, then his gaze returned to my face, eyes wide. "You carried me out? Over your shoulder?"

"Maybe I should have tied a rope to your feet and lugged you out that way."

"Your strength is impressive." He pushed my hand away and began massaging my shoulder.

I smiled. "Not that strong. But I am stubborn."

"Your resolve is impressive, then." After a pause, he asked, "Were you able to..."

His strong fingers distracted me from his unfinished question. "Um, what?"

"Did you find Vill?"

"Oh. Yes." Was I a hunter or a murderer?

"Is this . . . his?" He stopped rubbing my shoulder and picked something out of my hair. A crusty piece of flesh.

I turned away, nausea rolling into my gut again.

"What did you do?"

I couldn't look at him. I saw Vill in my mind, bursting like a bubble in a river. Red speckles covered my hands, my clothes.

His blood. On my hands.

"He's dead." I couldn't look at my filthy hands anymore. I jumped up and ran. I remembered a stream nearby and headed toward it, not stopping until I splashed into its cold waters.

Tears streamed down my face as I tore my shirt off and furiously scrubbed my skin with it. Fire monster, Vill had called me. He wasn't lying, or even exaggerating.

I dunked my head underwater, rubbing my face and kneading my hair, unbraiding it in the process. I welcomed the sting as the water rushed past my head wound. When my lungs began to burn, I emerged and breathed deeply. It reminded me of when I'd almost killed myself, diving too deeply into the lake. I'd been a mess then. And here I was, still a mess.

When I was finally convinced I'd scrubbed away all traces of blood, I returned to our little camp. I found Jastin carving a small piece of wood. He looked up when my foot snapped a twig.

"Better?" He studied my features, trying to determine my mood.

I nodded. "I'm sorry for running off."

"It's all right. You needed to."

"What are you making?" I asked, gesturing to the little piece of wood in his hand.

"I was hoping to give it you, but . . . " He shrugged. "It's not turning out how I'd hoped."

My heart might have skipped a beat. "For me? Can I see?"

He held it up, and I took the little figurine from him. It was... lumpy. It seemed to have eyes, and maybe a head.

"What is it?

He chuckled. "It's supposed to be a bear."

"A bear?" I turned it over in my hands. It did have a round body, and maybe some stumpy legs. "It's cute."

He made a face. "You don't have to spare my feelings. Let me try to finish it." He reached for the figurine.

I closed my hand over it and shook my head. "It's mine now."

"Come on, give it here. It's ugly." He leaned forward to stand, but clutched his side, grunting with pain.

I immediately knelt next to him. "Is it bleeding again?"

He lifted his torn shirt to examine the wound, and began chuckling.

Curious, I peered in for a closer look. The hole remained closed and blackened. The skin around it glowed bright red, the exact shape of my hand, as if it had been painted on.

I laughed nervously, hoping I hadn't given him a permanent, oddly shaped scar. "It wouldn't stop bleeding."

"Clever thinking." He dropped the shirt and looked back up at me. "You saved my life."

I sat down next to him and sighed. "I don't know. I was the one who broke your frozen shell to begin with."

"Sember." He took my hand as he spoke. "We would've had to pull me off that crystal sooner or later. I would have ended up in the same mess. All I did was buy us a little time."

His hand was so strange to me. It felt frigid, but at the same time soft and yielding like normal flesh. I liked it.

"You saved me," he repeated, and squeezed my hand.

A smile formed on my lips. "I guess I did."

I'm sure you guys can think of some other things for him to squeeze. ;) How about you squeeze out a vote? :)