I sit opposite him on a flat rock, the fire between us. Soren has grown quiet. I’m desperate to know his thoughts, but I won’t ask unless he wants to offer them up.
“Iric was right,” he says at last. “It doesn’t feel any different. I’ve got the feather, but what does it prove? And the goddess—if her Paradise is now open to me again, shouldn’t I feel it?”
I watch the flames twist around each other. “I’ve suspected for a while now that the mattugrs are no punishment devised by the goddess. I think they are something born of the traditions of men.”
“I know I should be glad that I can finally return home, but I can’t help but think of all the people who lost their lives to their mattugrs. How many died because they were left out here alone by their own kind?”
I rise from my seat and walk around the fire to kneel in front of Soren. “We can’t change what happened, but I will make changes for the future. When I rule Seravin, I will try my best to make things right for my village. We can only hope to inspire change in the others as well.”
Soren returns the feather to his pack before tugging on my hands. My head comes to rest against his shoulder.
“Is there a place for me by your side?” he asks quietly, tentatively. “While you inspire change and rule a village, will there be any room for me in your life?”
I smile, knowing he can’t see it. “You’re free to go home now. You can have your pick of all the girls back in Restin. I’m not your only option anymore. You wouldn’t want to restrict your attention to just one woman, now, would you?”
His hands go to my shoulders; they tug me back gently so he can look at me. I can tell he’s about to sputter off a series of protests, but then he sees my face. “You’re messing with me.”
I nod.
He brings his lips to my ear. “You might not be my only option anymore, but you’re the one I choose. My fierce warrior woman.”
“My helpless warrior man.”
“You’re never going to let me live down that ziken horde, are you?”
“Never.”
I’m startled by the sudden pressure of his lips against my forehead. It’s not like when I felt his lips against mine. The way I felt his heat and desire for me. This is different. It’s loving. Makes me feel precious. As though gifting him with myself is the best thing I could ever do for him.
After his lips linger against my brow, he lowers, kissing each of my closed eyelids, my cheeks, the corners of my mouth.
I get my hands on either side of his face and move him to just where I want. His lips sweep across mine. So slow and smooth and perfect.
Our lips don’t part until sometime much later.
We’re both gasping for breath.
“We need to douse the fire.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s talking about the literal fire behind me. No, in front of us.
When did I end up in his lap? How did we get turned around? And how is night already starting to creep up on us?
“Go douse it and come back, then,” I manage.
He shoots me a grin, and it takes away what little breath I’d been gaining back.
While he does that, I prepare the lean-to, arranging the blankets and packs just where we need them.
My heart is pounding when Soren joins me inside. I wonder desperately if he will kiss me again.
He does. One lingering kiss before settling himself beside me. His arms go around me, holding me close.
“It’s a good thing you’ve agreed to let me stay with you,” he says. “I don’t know if I could ever sleep without you in my arms.”
“Not used to sleeping on your own, are you?”
“I went a whole year on my own.”
“So there was a girl back in Restin,” I say.
Soren presses his lips to my forehead, just as he did before. “There weren’t any like you.”
* * *
MY NOSE WRINKLES BEFORE I even open my eyes the next morning. “What is that smell?” I groan and stretch my limbs. They’re sore from sleeping on the rock floor, from climbing this blasted mountain.
“I think that’s us.” Soren’s voice comes from just behind me. “We’ve been sweating our way up a mountain. I also think I might have gotten otti blood on my clothes.”
“Then we’d best find that stream today. Otherwise I don’t think I can share another lean-to with you.”
“You don’t exactly smell like flowers.”
I smack him playfully. “You’re not supposed to say that.”
“I’ve never lied to you,” he says. “And I’m not about to start. Even if it means I have to tell you, you smell.” His lips brush the back of my neck.
Oddly, it’s one of the most romantic things he’s ever said to me.
* * *
TRAVELING DOWN THE MOUNTAIN is so much quicker than the trip up. Unfortunately, it’s also much easier to stumble. We’ll be covered in bruises by the time we reach the bottom.
The otti feather is so long that it won’t fit in Soren’s pack all the way. The tip pokes out of the leather drawstring by at least five inches, following Soren down the mountain. His salvation.
Rocks skitter out of our way as we travel, some without us even kicking them. Curious, but I don’t think much of it as I put most of my focus into not falling down.
It doesn’t take long to find the stream (once we manage to navigate back around the invisible walls of the god’s power), and we start to follow it downhill, looking for a broader opening where we might fully bathe.
“Yesterday,” I say, “with the otti bird. I noticed you weren’t trying to kill it. You only injured it enough to make it flee.”
“That’s right.”
“I’m glad, even if it did take a swipe at me.” My hand ghosts over the bandaged wound.
“My mattugr was to steal a feather, not kill the bird. The otti wouldn’t have bothered us if we hadn’t come into her territory. She minds her own business. Only hunts when she needs to. Much less evil than the hyggja.”
I shudder. “That thing would eat anything that came close to its resting place, hungry or not. It was enough to make me wary of deep water.”
“And Peruxolo—he is evil incarnate,” Soren says. “He deserves to die for what he’s done to our people. You shouldn’t even hesitate to take his life when the time comes.”
“He may bear the face of a man,” I say, “but he is no man. He is something else, and I won’t hesitate to end him.”
“Good.” Soren’s gaze flicks past me. “We’re in luck. The stream’s opening up.”
The stream widens and deepens into a slow-moving pool. The water is clear—I can see down to the bottom where the rocks gather. They shimmer at the bottom as the sun filters through the water. They must be filled with metal fragments. This mountain has never been mined. It must be rich with ore and other deposits.
“Ladies first,” Soren says. “Let me know how cold it is.”
“It’s runoff from the mountain. It’s going to be freezing.”
“Would you rather be clean or warm?”
I take another sniff at my clothing. “Clean.”
“I’ll keep watch. I promise not to look.”
“So noble.”
He gives me a wicked grin before walking away, his back to me. I pull the armor sheets from out of my clothes and discard them by a tree. Then I shuck my boots and ax. I grab a bar of soap and clean set of clothes from my pack and walk to the pool’s edge. Once there, I take off my clothes and place them within reach of the water.
I dip a single toe into the stream. Freezing is too gentle of a term for what it is. I can’t fathom why there isn’t ice floating along the surface. There’s no easy way to do this. I take a deep breath and jump.
The cold is so intense it feels like needles are scraping my skin. I just stand there for a moment, waiting for my body to adjust.
“All good?” Soren shouts, his body facing firmly away.
“Th-the w-water is g-great. Just wait until i-it’s your turn.”
He laughs lightly. I pretend not to notice.
I soap down every inch of skin on my body twice. I lather the soap in my hair until bubbles stream down my arms. I take a deep breath and go down. A headache starts to form from the cold.