Dragon's Blood by Leah E. Welker

Author:Leah E. Welker [Leah E. Welker]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lightbound Media
Published: 2024-06-18T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter thirteen

Moontouched

Sarah

I woke up to the smell of hot meat roasting over a fire, which sent my stomach into overdrive, reminding me forcefully of how little I had digested that day. I blinked my crusty eyes open.

I still lay on the makeshift bed Ben had made for me, suggesting I try to get some rest while he and Yvera set up some magical defenses. But now, instead of having just my coat for a covering, I found myself enveloped in a giant fur blanket, the soft edge of which brushed against my cheek. Darkness had fallen, so my eyes were drawn to the fire crackling away merrily in the brazier a couple yards away, and around it sat Kor and Yvera.

Kor sat across the fire from me, sitting cross-legged on a different kind of cushion than any of the others so far: one that appeared to have an elevated portion in the middle on which he sat, and the rest lower, where his legs crossed. In keeping with the warrior-monk image, he still was shirtless, but his arms and back were covered with his robe; his spine was straight, but his head was lowered in a relaxed position, and his eyes were closed.

Yvera sat on the bare stone at the three o’clock position and was carving off chunks of a chicken-sized animal roasting on the spit. At the sight of it, dripping juice and all, my stomach growled so loudly, Yvera must have heard, because her sharp eyes snapped to meet mine.

I winced, expecting the same irritation as before. If it was there, I couldn’t see it clearly enough in just the flickering light of the fire.

Her voice wasn’t friendly, but neither did it have the level of acidity I was expecting. “Ben said you’d be hungry. So come get some if you are.”

I slipped reluctantly out of the shelter the bed represented: both from the cold of the wind and her gaze. I grabbed my coat and pulled it back on as I walked the short distance to the fire. I sat down on the remaining cushion that seemed to have been left out for that purpose. That was when I saw where Ben was: sprawled out in the last remaining position around the fire, lying straight on his back, with a blanket to his armpits, but his arms free—one thrown over his face, the other resting on his chest.

“He always sleeps like that,” Yvera said.

I started at the dry, almost amused tone and looked back at her. Her eyes had followed mine to Ben and lingered there, her lips pulling in the corners into the smallest of smirks. “Flame only knows how he breathes, but he does. How else would he be able to snore like that if he didn’t?”

I listened, and a smile of my own cracked my lips as I finally identified the rhythmic snuffling of his breath.

“Could be a lot worse,” I ventured with a tentative smile, not sure how far to push this truce between us.

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