His ears flame on cue, and I chuckle, deeply pleased to be able to throw out that tidbit of blackmail at the perfect moment. I’ve been holding on to it for a while. “That’s below the belt, using my girl against me.”
“All is fair in love and secrets.” I grin.
Carleon motions for us to slow just a bit to add more distance between us and the rest of the group. I don’t really know the other men in our team, only by name and reputation. “Eamon is escorting you to a pick-up point. That’s all I know, I swear.”
“And the others? You?”
“We’re just your hot bodyguards.” He beams and ducks to miss my wild swing. He prances away, grinning from ear to ear. I shake my head, laughing at his antics.
Anwen is a lucky girl, I muse as I grip the edges of my pack and plod forward in silence.
Not long after the last glint of the Shard is concealed from sight by the dense timberland, night begins to fall. Weariness from disuse settles into my muscles, and I begin to fuel myself with the anger I’ve held on to for the past three weeks. Before my injury, I was in peak form. Now I find my breathing labored and my back screaming in protest of the long hike.
As the stars begin to dot the partially clouded sky overhead, I realize what the other men must have already known. We aren’t stopping to rest.
There are no lanterns to light our path as we weave through the brush, our pants snagging on unseen bramble patches. Only the dim green glow of laser guns, pointed to the ground, reveal the location of my team up ahead.
The walk is treacherous as we begin our descent into the foothills. The ground is moist and easily unsettled with a wrong step. I take a knee several times before releasing the first of many curses for the night. The full moon hangs high, swollen in the sky, but the dappled light that manages to peek through the canopy is hardly helpful.
Carleon hangs back from the group, halfway between me and the rest. My pace is slowing; I can feel it with each shaking step that I take. I knew I should’ve eaten something before we left, I silently berate.
But it isn’t completely my fault. Eamon made the decision not to stop either. Surely I’m not the only one among us that’s starting to feel drained.
We march long into the night, attempting to cover as much ground on the first day as possible. I wish I knew exactly where the extraction point was meant to be. The only thing I can tell by the flight of the moon is that we’re heading steadily due south.
Eamon pushes us hard, stopping only long enough to fill our canteens from a gushing spring before pressing on once more. No one speaks. The only sound that rises above the rustling of the forest is the breath that expels from our abused lungs.
He leads with unfaltering steps, as if there were a line carved through the woods that only he can see. None of us question him. We just follow and attempt to keep up.
By the time the moon begins to sink toward the horizon, my legs are on fire and my back hunched painfully. It’ll be a miracle if I’m able to walk straight tomorrow.
As the first drops of color begin to spread along the eastern sky, Eamon raises his hand for us to halt. “We’ll set up camp here. I need three men to collect firewood. The rest of you start setting up tents. I want dinner done before dawn.”
I sink ungracefully to the ground, feeling as if every muscle in my body has mutinied. Blisters along my heels have long since popped, leaving my socks plastered to my feet. I groan as I slip out of my pack and lean back, breathing heavily.
A shadow rises over me and I open my eyes. “I know. I’ll grab wood,” I groan as I begin to rise, but Eamon kneels beside me and pushes me back.
“Rest. The men can take care of it.”
Resentment instantly flares to life. “I’m capable of doing my part.”
“I’m well aware of that,” he says curtly, drawing his hand back from my shoulder. “But I can’t have you worn out. This mission will only succeed if you’re in top form.”
I want to protest, to stand upon my given rights as a soldier to do my part, but even as the words try to form, I feel drowsiness beginning to tug me down. “Fine,” I mumble as the first yawn takes me by surprise. “But I’m helping tear down.”
I don’t actually know how I ended up inside my tent. I suspect Carleon had something to do with it, judging by the care with which I was tucked into my blanket. He even gave me his pillow.
I really am lucky to have a guy like him in my life, I muse as I pull back the flaps of the canvas tent. Ever since I first met him on the rooftop during the siege, and entrusted him with protecting Bastien while I went off to save Kyan, we’ve been close friends. He’s almost like the brother I never had. We bicker, spat, and make up all within a heartbeat.