Blood-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book I ]

53

Matei watched the others leave the council house, trailed by a yawning Farra. He remained where he stood, a hand on the back of Mhera's chair. She struggled to gather herself. It took a moment, but he waited, saying nothing, giving her time.

At last, she slid out of her chair and stood, wiping her cheek on her sleeve. "I'm sorry."

"No. It is cruel for you to be here while we plan."

"I have no choice." The cursed binding. How evil a thing it was.

"No ... but it is cruel nonetheless." Matei looked anxious, distracted. It was strange; he had always seemed sure of himself, every moment.

"What is it?" she asked him.

"What isn't it?" Matei shook his head. "I do not know if this is the right choice."

"You can't know."

The rebel looked over at her, assessing. "You do."

Mhera frowned at him. "No, Matei. I feel it is the right choice, but how can I know? What can the right choice be, between two impossible options? I do not know why you are placing stock in my opinions now. I am surprised that you even listened to what I had to say."

She did not want him to think she did this out of loyalty for his cause. It wasn't. It was to save what few innocents there were in this place from a horrible fate ... and for self-preservation.

"I believe you. I believe you Saw something."

"It's a fantastic thing to believe."

Matei shrugged and raised a hand. As he looked at his own open palm, Mhera saw his skin begin to glow; then, with a crackle, a snake of white light emerged, curling around his wrist and up his arm. Tendrils of it snaked away from his fingers, shivering erratically.

Mhera moved back from him, raising her hands in a warding gesture.

"Don't be frightened, Mhera," Matei said, gazing pensively at the light. "It's just ... The world is a fantastic place, isn't it? You think you know something, but fate has a way of surprising you at every turn."

"I should get back to the infirmary," Mhera said. She could not tear her eyes away from the magic.

Matei dropped his hand, and the light dissolved. "Come with me to the longhouse first. I should be there to speak to folk as they come in for supper, and you need food."

Mhera hesitated, looking down at his hand. Harmless, she thought. Then: Dangerous—more dangerous than I can know.

"You can take Aun back a basket and some water for the night. She'll have been busy this afternoon taking stock of what we have. I do not think she stopped to eat, and I know you did not."

Matei picked up an empty bucket from the floor near the door. He looked at her and lifted his brows, waiting, until Mhera finally moved toward him. He handed the bucket to her, and she followed him out into the late afternoon.

The longhouse where the folk of Hanpe assembled for meetings and meals was still mostly empty. Matei took Mhera over to consult with the cooks. They produced a basket of food for her without trouble. Nestled within were lidded clay pots filled with stew, half a loaf of coarse bread, and some berries in a folded napkin.

"Mind you eat, too," Matei said, seeing her to the door. "Will you tell her of the change in plans?"

Mhera slid the handle of the basket over her arm, the empty bucket dangling from her other hand. "I will. If I can go."

Matei reached out as if to place a hand on her shoulder. She flinched away from him before she could think. She took a step back. "Please ... don't."