Fire on the Wind by Olivia Drake

Author:Olivia Drake
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi

Chapter 13

They camped that evening in a tiny ruined temple beside a clear stream. The burble of water over rocks filled the void left by their sparse conversation. Sarah made a silent vow to be civil for the few days until they rejoined the villagers.

She managed to swallow her opinion when Damien struggled to milk the reluctant goat. She was proud of her restraint in offering advice while he cooked dinner and she fed the baby. She permitted herself only a gracious compliment when she tasted his excellent curried rice and dal. She even managed not to inquire where he’d learned to cook so well.

Let him be secretive about his shadowy past, she thought as she cuddled Kit against the evening chill. Damien Coleridge was her employer. Their association began and ended with that.

Wanting to cover Kit’s head, she reached for the cap, but it wasn’t tucked into her sari. She frowned at Damien, who crouched and washed the dishes in the stream. “Have you seen the red hat I purchased in the bazaar?”

He shook his head. “Keep track of your own damned belongings.”

As he returned his attention to his work, she stuck her tongue out at his back. The boor. Let him be rude, too.

The sky deepened through a succession of gold, red, and purple. With the swiftness of a blink, the colors vanished, leaving velvet blackness and a smattering of stars which Sarah could see through the fallen roof of the shrine. She settled Kit near the small fire on the dirt floor and lay down beside him.

A distant scream prickled over her skin. She shivered, as much from the eerie sound as from the coolness of the evening. She looked at Damien, who lounged against a vine-wrapped pillar. He drew on his bidi, and the tip glowed orange.

“What was that sound?” she asked.

“Panther.”

She sat up straight, the blanket falling back. “Panther?”

“Don’t worry, it was far away. I doubt it’ll roam close enough to bother us.”

“You doubt? How reassuring.”

“There may be leopards and tigers out there, too, though I didn’t see any pug marks. The big predators usually keep to the lowlands and valleys.”

“Usually.” She focused on the one word.

“We’ll be safe enough inside here.” He jabbed the cigarette toward the gun on the ground. “I’ll keep the revolver beside me.”

Somewhat relieved, she forced herself to lie back down, covering herself to her chin with the scratchy blanket. The stream gushed its endless melody. An owl hooted overhead. The goat bleated from its tether in the shadows. A faint snuffling noise came from the darkness outside.

She pushed herself up on an elbow. “Damien? Did you hear that?”

“It was probably a chital.”

“A chital?”

“A type of deer. Go to sleep, Sarah.”

She curled herself close to Kit’s slumbering form. He stirred and sighed, then stuck his thumb in his mouth. The night seemed alive with sounds—the buzzing of insects, the rustling of leaves, the howling of jackals. And too many other noises she couldn’t identify—an indistinct grunt, a muted thump.

She and

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