Townspeople bustled, going about their activities as if the soldiers marching in pairs with three strangers was an everyday occurrence.
“Excuse me.” Tressa touched the sleeve of a passing woman. “What is the name of this town?”
The woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s the Blue.”
“The Blue?” Tressa asked. “That’s the name?”
“Where are you from?” The woman looked at Tressa’s filthy clothes and then glanced at Connor, still knocked out, in Bastian’s arms. “Who are you?”
“Come along!” The woman yelled from the front of the procession. “No talking!”
Tressa dipped her head and followed the army into the world she’d never really believed existed.
Chapter Nineteen
The dancer’s hips flowed from side to side, lulling the drunken men into a trance. Bastian sat with Tressa, forcing his gaze from the woman’s legs. Tressa’s eyes were cast toward the rough-hewn table, her mead untouched.
Bastian looked at Tressa again out of the corner of his eye. He’d considered risking death more than once just to be with her again.
Tressa’s lashes flitted up, her eyes meeting his. “Are you thinking about Connor too?”
Bastian took a swig of mead. “Yeah,” he lied. “I wish they would have let us stay with Connor in the infirmary. Who knows what they’re doing to him.”
“Saving him, I hope.” Tressa traced a knot on the table with her fingertip. “After he’s well, what do you think that woman wants from you?” Tressa stared at his forehead.
Typical. Since they’d been uncoupled, Tressa hadn’t been able to ask him anything important without burning a hole in his forehead. She’d distanced herself physically and emotionally from him. It hurt him every time, but he couldn’t tell her that.
Bastian shrugged.
“Don’t act like you don’t know.” Now Tressa was staring at his hands.
“I’m not going to assume anything and neither should you.” Bastian took another drink.
“Why do you suppose she was waiting for us? Do you think others from our village have made it out here and never come back?”
“I have no idea.” Bastian glanced at the dancer. She’d discarded a few more articles of clothing since the last time he’d looked. With Tressa sitting across the table, he felt nothing but embarrassment. “We won’t get any answers by sitting here. Let’s go.” He tossed a couple of coins on the table. The physic said he’d been instructed to give them money and that they were to occupy themselves while Connor was examined. Bastian wasn’t sure if it was too much, but it looked similar to what others were leaving at their tables.
Bastian reached out for Tressa’s hand, stopping just short of her fingertips. The closeness he’d felt earlier dissipated after they’d stepped out of the fog. He wanted it back, but the walls had been rebuilt.
They were alive. There was a chance he’d get back to his wife and daughter. Reality resurrected the wedge they’d discarded in the fog. Not just for Tressa, but for Bastian too. He’d spent years perfecting the distance between them.
Tressa grabbed her bag. “Do you think Nerak will find us again?”
The owl. Weirdest damn bird he’d ever encountered. He looked around the bar. Probably wouldn’t be the last strange thing he’d find outside of Hutton’s Bridge. “Don’t know. Maybe she was lost and is back with her family now that we’re out of the fog.”
“Speaking of family,” Tressa began. “I know you’re anxious to get back to Vinya and Farah. I’ll do everything I can to make that happen for you.”
He pursed his lips together. He knew what the right answer was, but he couldn’t bring himself to thank her. Missing Farah was a given. Seeing Vinya again wasn’t something he was sure he wanted.
“Let’s get Connor healthy enough to travel. We can ask the physic for medicine. Everything else comes later.” Bastian led the way out of the tavern into the bustling street. He felt Tressa stand a bit closer to him, but not close enough to touch. Her warm breath floated across his upper arm, quick and uneven. She was nervous too. Not surprising. Her incessant need to prove her independence concealed a delicate soul. He knew better than anyone just how vulnerable she could be.
That was the reason he wanted to wrap a protective arm around her shoulder, but he held back, knowing she’d never allow it.
“Back to the infirmary?” he asked instead.
“We were told to wait here for news.” Tressa wrung her hands. “But I say, yes, let’s go check on him.”