Carleon laughs. “Sure.” He continues to stare at Bastien, so I elbow him in the ribs. “Sorry. It’s just…” He leans in closer to whisper in my ear. “I think I sort of have a man crush on him.”
A giggle bursts past my lips. I bury it in his shoulder as I feel some of the earlier tension lift momentarily. Leave it to him to make me laugh when I need it most. “I’m serious. Have you seen that guy?”
I sober instantly. “Yes, every night in my dreams.”
Carleon grimaces. “Sorry. Guess that wasn’t the best thing to say.”
“Don’t worry about it. I think Bastien has that effect on most people.” I pat him on the back and pull away from his embrace. “Thank you, for everything.”
Bastien casts a darkened glance at Eamon but says nothing as he turns to follow me. The walk back to camp is silent and unsettling. It feels weird for him to be here beside me, but even more so that he didn’t hesitate a second to leap to my defense.
I know Eamon didn’t intend to hurt me. He was upset and didn’t realize how hard he pulled me forward, but Bastien doesn’t know him like I do.
The pounding in my head mounts as I spy a spiral of smoke rising from the center of camp. Tents have been set up and appear to be occupied. Bodhi’s droning snores escape from the canvas near the rear of camp. I grab my pack and sling it over my shoulder.
No farewell. No wishes for a successful mission. “Are you ready?” Bastien asks.
I glance one last time around my camp and feel a surprising, yet profound sense of homesickness. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Nine
The winds whistle through the trees, whipping my hair against my face and tangling with my downturned lashes, but I hardly notice. I feel completely out of sorts, not just over having left Eamon in such a terrible way, but also because of who it is that walks before me
Bastien.
Seeing him twice in one month is almost more than I can fathom. I used to dream about what it would be like to see him again. Would he still be the haunted man I’d grown to hate or the smug boy who could irritate me with whip-like speed? What I find before me is neither of those yet both at the same time. He is a walking contradiction that shouldn’t even be here to start with.
I don’t like how distracted I feel, how my gaze keeps rising enough to notice the way his uniform fits his muscular form to perfection. He has put on some weight since I last saw him, but it is housed in thick ropes of muscles. I can see it in the definition of his calves as he leaps over small trickling streams and weaves around downed trees.
Strong, powerful arms propel him over rocks large enough to provide a challenge. He moves with the ease and grace of a man who grew up in the forest, yet I know he didn’t.
The sunlight overhead is dappled, ever shifting with the waving evergreen branches. The scent of pine is strong as we begin our final descent, emerging from the mountains into smaller foothills. More of the large hill variety, really.
I pause atop a boulder, partially sunken into the dark, fertile soil, to stare out at the landscape before me. Once-beautiful oak and maple trees now stand barren, squeezed out by a thick overgrowth of pine and spruce. Needle boughs dance in the winds, carrying their scent for miles.
The sky is clear today. No hint of cloud for as far as I can see. The rich blue is breathtaking, the fresh air filling my lungs invigorating, burning in my throat.
I can hear Bastien’s feet crunching a noisy path along the snowy forest floor ahead. Last year’s leaves have been trampled underfoot by wildlife, beginning the stages of decomposition that will feed the earth for another year. Pinecones poke up from the snow amid a blanket of browned needles.
Bastien pauses and glances back over his shoulder at me. I try not to acknowledge that my gaze automatically searches his eyes. What is it that I am looking for? I don’t really know the answer to that. Maybe a sign that he missed me as much as I missed him.
Keep your head down and move. One foot in front of the other. That’s all that matters right now, I silently scold as I leap to the ground and hurry to catch up.
I keep pace with Bastien as the sun climbs the sky, chasing away the shadows from the land, but I remain back several feet. His questioning gaze unsettles me. Bastien has always seen too much, known and understood far more than he should about me. It was one of the things that annoyed me in the beginning but then endeared me to him in the end.
He never asked me to be anything but what I was. He believed in me when all others feared me. He alone loved me for exactly who I am.
There have been several backward glances and troubled looks as we wind through an unseen path, ever moving south. Although he plows ahead with the same confidence that Eamon showed, there is something disturbingly different about Bastien. It is almost as if this land is well known to him.