Risk

Chapter IX

The fire was nothing but a few smoldering embers, and Rowan was packing, but there was nothing else to show the passage of time. For all she knew, it could have just been several minutes since she settled down. Only the dying fire told her that time was still moving as it always had. Not even the mist-shrouded darkness of the evil forest could stop old man time from doing his job.

"Why weren't you in the camp this morning?" Jasta asked, her voice almost sounding strange to her as if it had actually been years since she'd used it, and time really wasn't flowing as it should, but then she stopped the fanciful thought. It had only been a little while—just enough time to pack up.

And certainly not enough time for her wound to stop throbbing in time with her pulse and spiking with fiery pain every time she even shifted just a little bit.

Rowan had been stuffing various items into a sack, but he stopped when she spoke. He looked up at her. "I was looking for something." He said after the briefest of hesitations.

"What were you looking for?" Jasta persisted.

He looked thoughtful as he put the bag into the pack on the horse's rear. "I'm not sure if you need to know. It would probably worry you." He said, his face clouding over.

"Why can't you just tell me?" she asked. Despite his concern, the simple fact that he thought she would get worried at the news of whatever he'd been looking for set her thoughts to racing in a worried way. She looked from Rowan to the dying embers.

"I told you not to get worried," Rowan said. Jasta's gaze snapped back to him. How does he always know what I'm feeling?

She brushed off the worry, though she found it a bit more difficult than she would have liked.

Her mind drifted. She thought about how she was going to ride on the horse with her leg in that condition. The thought alone of the horse bumping up and down with her on it made her wince.

She thought about asking Rowan to wait until her leg healed a little bit before moving on, but then she remembered her mother and Rose. She decided to deal with riding the horse no matter how painful. She had to get back to them soon—as soon as she could.

"I'm done packing." Rowan said from his place by the horse.

"Then we should get going." She replied. Saying the words out loud helped her not to doubt her decision. Rowan walked over and offered his hand again. She took it and he pulled her up.

She wobbled for a second as she found her balance on her single foot. She was hesitant to ask for help but she didn't think she could do it by herself. How could she bear walking when even the small movement of rising to her feet burned and set her leg to painfully aching again.

"Do you want me to carry you again?" Rowan asked. She was grateful that he asked first, saving her the embarrassment of requesting to be carried.

"Yes. I think that would be best." She replied, wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

He lifted her up and carried her over to the horse. Once again, she found that she was surprised by his strength. He seemed to be able to carry her without any problems whatsoever. Surely his little arms couldn't have that much muscle? Even her own arms seemed thicker than his, despite being malnourished after being asleep for a month. But she was being redundant in thinking thoughts she'd already thought before, so she just shrugged it off.

She was a little uncertain about what method to use in getting her on the horse, but Rowan didn't hesitate. He swung her over the saddle without so much as batting an eye. She winced, expecting her leg to hit the side of the horse... It never did.