Llew stared into the darkness of the forest and forced herself to start breathing again.
“Wh— who?” She looked back at him, her face a mask of innocent curiosity.
“Aenuks,” he repeated. “They're a race of folk from Turhmos. I'm a Quaven soldier, and Turhmos and Quaver have been at war for centuries. Turhmos boosts their army using Aenuks. They can heal themselves from flesh wounds and as medics, well, a bunch of Aenuks can heal almost anythin'.”
“Almost anything?”
“Except this.” He twisted the knife, sending a flash of moonlight along its blade. “Wounds inflicted on an Aenuk with this blade heal at the same rate they would on any person. A fatal wound from this is a fatal wound for anyone.”
“Oh.” Until a couple of days ago, she had always assumed she could die like anyone else, despite her ability to heal. A day or two of thinking otherwise shouldn't have made it so hard to accept once more. But it did. She wanted to get up and run away from the knife that could kill her and her body involuntarily withdrew from it. She wrapped her arms about her middle.
Glancing at her, Jonas held the small bottle out again. She sipped it and sat a moment, wondering if he'd told her about the knife because he knew what she was. He'd already told her he knew she was a girl. Was this his way of telling her he knew what she could do, too? But if he knew she was able to heal, was one of these Aenuks, then surely he would have killed her by now, since that seemed to be what he did to them.
“You asked.”
“What?”
“You wanted to know about the knife. What did you expect I did with it? Use it to make daisy chains? It's a knife. Its purpose is to kill. And the Aenuks I kill are bad folk.”
Yes, she was a bad person. She'd killed a man less than a week ago and left a pile of dead animals on the gallows where she'd hung. Everywhere she went she had the potential to leave a trail of destruction. She was a bad person.
Or was this all part of some elaborate test that he'd begun when he challenged her to a duel? Was he gaging her reaction to see if she was one of these Aenuks and, if so, had she reacted appropriately?
“Did I pass?”
He looked at her a moment before bursting out laughing, a hearty guffaw that had him clutching his belly. Llew flushed.
“You were testing me, weren't you, before, with the swords?”
Jonas took a moment to compose himself and Llew took another sip from his bottle as he constructed an answer. “I like to know who I'm fightin' with, is all.”
She handed the bottle back. “So, how did I do?”
He threw back another mouthful of the potent liquid. “You did alright,” he said. He slid the knife back into its holster, retrieved the cork from the ground beside him and pressed it back into the bottle. Then he pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand to Llew. “We should get these dishes rinsed before we're missed.”
Llew accepted his help to stand, then gathered up the small pile of plates, utensils, and the pot. They crouched by the edge of the creek, rubbing away the thin layer of stew and breadcrumbs with fine silt before rinsing it away in the slow-moving water. They remained crouching, staring into the water for a few moments after their task was complete. Llew breathed in the damp air. It mingled with the musky smell of her companion and an unfamiliar sensation radiated through her.
She looked at him out the corner of her eye, only to have her eyes settle on the knives filling his vest, then trailing down to the knife in its sheath by his thigh.
Feeling the muscles in her legs tiring, Llew stood up and her head swirled. She took a step to balance herself, slapping a foot into the shallow water's edge. She would have fallen in if Jonas hadn't grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She collapsed into him, laughing. He swayed a little, too, and his arms wrapped about her in a casual embrace.
“What was that stuff?”
Jonas didn't reply. He inhaled deeply, sampling the scent of her hair. His closeness sent shivers down her spine. He let his head rest on her shoulder, then his arms clasped her tightly – one hand at the back of her neck. He shook once, twice, and she thought she heard a muffled sob.
A year ago... A year since what?
She let her own head lean against his and closed her eyes. She'd never been so intimate with anyone before. The men she knew, who knew she was a girl, only wanted to touch her in one way. Maybe two.
“What's going on?”
Jonas pushed away from her and turned to the creek.
Llew faced Alvaro. “We were just doing the dishes.”
“Ah-huh.”
“Just go back to camp,” said Jonas, his voice betraying only the slightest tremor. “We'll be there soon.”
“What are you two doing?” Alvaro kept coming on.
“Go back, Al.” If Jonas had used that tone on her, Llew would have turned on the spot, run back to camp and not looked back.
Alvaro stopped. “I just came to let you know we're makin' ready for bed. Aris wants Llew on first watch.”
“We'll be there soon.”
Alvaro stood a moment longer, glancing from one to the other; then he nodded and turned back to camp.
Jonas studied the small bottle. “Hot damn, what is this stuff?”
“Not whisky, then?”
“Thought it was. Picked it up in Cheer.”
“Well, we're a backwards people, all isolated-like up this way.” Llew smiled. “I won't tell if you don't.”
He looked at her.
“I'm just not ready,” she said. She didn't know how they would take her having lied to them, but if she could prove herself first then maybe they would be more understanding, more forgiving. And she didn't want them all looking at her the way men looked at girls. So far, Jonas seemed to have more on his mind than ogling her. But would Cassidy and Alvaro feel the same way?
Jonas stooped to collect the pot and cutlery and handed it to her, then gathered up the plates and started walking back to camp.
Llew shrugged and followed.