“Really?” I chuckle and hand him the canteen. He accepts it without looking at me. “You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“What do you mean?” I hear water sloshing in his cup and then a single gulp as he downs his share of the water in one go. I sink to the ground, weary and exhausted but suddenly unwilling to even consider sleep.
“Kyan knew Eamon would never agree to this if he knew you were my guide and I…” I trail off, suddenly unsure of what my reaction would’ve been.
I wrap the venison back into its ball of cotton and toss it at Bastien, uninterested in eating anymore. As he digs out a chunk of meat, I draw my knees up into my chest and hug my legs close. “Why did you agree to this?”
As I wait for his answer, I become aware of the thick tree root I’ve sat upon. My gaze follows the intricate root system and I realize I’m completely surrounded. The only free space is beside Bastien. I decide to stay put, at least until my tailbone cracks or I tumble off.
“It was a mission of great importance. We both know that.”
“Yes.” I nod in agreement. There has never been a sighting this big. What if we could take out an entire enemy base? To actually steal one of their ships and be able to infiltrate their armada as they return soldiers back to Calisted?
I’ve often dreamed of what Kyan’s planet looks like. In my visions, it is bathed in delicate, shifting pastel colors. Flowers grow there, the likes of which I’ve never seen. Colors so vivid they seem fake, unnatural. Almost as if trapped within a dream world.
“But why did you accept it? Personally, I mean.” I glance over at him and see that he too has set aside the food.
The sunlight trickling from the canopy overhead highlights his dark hair. I realize with a start that our hair color is nearly identical now.
His face is lean, not in the same way that Kyan’s face has become drawn under the pressure of leading the rebellion on so many fronts, but almost as if he has finally grown into adulthood. His shoulders have broadened, as has his chest. He has filled out, grown another inch or so while he was gone.
His fingers are thin, but I know they hold great strength. Cords of muscle rise from his wrists, twining around his forearms and biceps. I lower my gaze to his chest and stop myself, remembering all too well what lies beneath the thin layer of his uniform.
“What I told Eamon was true.” He lifts his gaze to meet mine directly. “I trust no one else with your safety.”
I seize a clump of ice from the forest floor, testing its weight in my hand before I hurl it at a tree. It explodes on impact. I can hear the pattering of fragments raining down. “I can take care of myself.”
A slow, wistful smile curls Bastien’s lips as he nods. “You always have.”
“Then why come? Why you?” I can feel pressure beginning to form just behind my eyes. I hate the need to press him for an answer, yet I seem unable to stop myself.
Bastien’s shoulders rise and fall with a sigh. He turns his face away so I can only see his profile, keeping me from reading the emotions hidden within the depths of his eyes. “Because I had to.”
I lower my gaze and realize the pine needle I’ve been fiddling with between my fingers has nearly crumbled completely. I brush off the residue from my pants and lower my legs, crisscrossing them as I try to shift my weight into a less bumpy location.
On the horizon, I can see clouds brewing, dark and heavy laden. I frown and lower my gaze. I can feel the change in the air. A winter storm is on its way.
The silence that falls between us feels awkward. What is there to say that hasn’t already been said? This is a job for him. Nothing more. It should be the same for me.
“Do you want to tell me what all of that was about back there?”
I blink, confused by the tension in his voice. His grip on his leg, drawn up into his chest, is tight enough that I can see the muscles flexed beneath the skin of his uniform. He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he casts his gaze far out into the woods.
“Not much to tell.” I shrug and feel my stomach begin to stir. Maybe I’m hungrier than I thought, but I’m not about to ask Bastien to pass the meat.
When he glances over at me, I am rocked by the depth of his open annoyance, and the familiarity of it. “Come on, Illyria. This is me you’re talking to. I know something is terribly wrong and I want to know what it is.”
I open my mouth to speak but instantly clamp it shut, biting down on my tongue. “I don’t see how it is any of your concern,” I finally respond coolly.
Bastien leans forward, releasing his leg so he can shift his entire body to face mine. He looks as if he’s about to say something so I leap in to interrupt. “You chose to walk out of my life, remember? I don’t owe you anything.”