Page 30 of Shadow Wings
I sniffed again and pulled in a long inhale. Now that my other senses were muted, I focused on the scents assailing me. Tyrrik’s pine needle, smoke, and steel aroma overwhelmed everythingelse.
Hot potatoes, he smelled so good. I opened my eyes and glared at him, clambering to my feet. “I can’t smell anything with younear.”
He lifted his head and peeled his eyelids back for a brief moment. With a small smile, he asked, “Why are you still sniffingthen?”
I caught myself mid-inhale.Because you smell amazing.There was no way I was going to tell him that. Oh wait, maybe I just did.Drak.“Umm,” I mumbled, trying to cover my thoughts. “Allergies.”
He snorted as he shifted on the shale, obviously not believing mylie.
As he closed his eyes, Tyrrik murmured, “Right.”
I didn’t bother responding. I turned my attention to the ground and wobbled off down the row of sharp pikes. As I got farther away from the deadly rocks, I noticed the spikes extended all around the forest in a wide, sharp band, creating a deadlybarrier.
“I don’t think they want visitors,” I mumbled to myself. Clearly, the Phaetyn weren’t the welcoming type Kamoi portrayed them to be. Still, with someone like Emperor Draedyn around, I couldn’t blamethem.
About a hundred paces away from the Drae, I closed my eyes. Pushing away the constant barrage of information from my skin, ears, and eyes, I inhaled again. Sorting through the smells away from Tyrrik proved much easier, and the crisp, clear scent of water sang tome.
“There’s water just over that way,” I shouted back to him, pointing away from the wall ofdeath.
He called in a dry voice that barely reached me, despite my super sensitive hearing, “Iknow.”
I wrinkled my nose but said nothing.Sure,he’d known, andIwas an egg with five yolks. I’d ignore his haughty attitude and lack of gratitude. Being Ryn the Fearless also meant being the bigger person. I could give the win to others on occasion—I could be gracious. I took another deep breath as I trudged over the rocks like a lumbering mule. Life as a hero wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, but I couldroll.
Setting out in the opposite direction to the forest and its morbid welcoming mat, I walked, swinging the empty skin, and my weary muscles slowly released their tension and woke up. As I continued picking through the rocks, my stiffness disappeared, and my usual energy emerged. I recovered enough that I stopped walking like I was riding a horse, too, so everything was on the up and up. I glanced back at Tyrrik. He was still lying right where I’d left him, looking pretty muchdead.
“Good, good.” I gave myself an inane pep talk, not believing a word ofit.
I rounded a mound of large boulders, and the pointy rocks and lush forest were lost from view. My ears twitched at the faint trickle of water ahead. I sniffed, and my mouth watered. Oh yeah, there was water ahead, and for some reason it smelledreallygood.
I climbed up the side of the hill a short way, and a few boulder mounds later, about a quarter of the way up, I crouched by a thin stream squeezing out from between two bulky rocks. My eyes followed the filter of water where it continued down the slope, branching and twisting toward the wall of death. I squinted, focusing on where the water ran down, disappearing into the spiked rocks, in the direction of theforest.
I filled the water skin and guzzled the contents before re-filling it. The water wouldn’t sate my hunger for long, but it was all I had fornow.
After taking care of my other business—that a woman didn’t want to do in close range of a man with heightened senses—I made my way back toTyrrik.
The morning rays lit the sky, even though the sun still hid among the Gemond mountains. More light painted the horror of yesterday, vividly displaying the dried evidence all around theDrae.
“Hey,” I said, approaching him with forced cheeriness. “I foundwater.”
He didn’t reply, but his chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, my only reassurance he wasn’t dead. I sighed as I sat down next to him and mumbled, “Guess I’m making nectar on myown.”
I uncorked the water skin and stuck my forefinger in the hole, wiggling the digit around and thinking of nectar and Tyrrik being better as I hummed. Removing my finger, I sniffed at the contents. Still water,deliciouswater . . . Did its mouth-watering scent have something to do with theforest?
This nectar thing wasn’t as clear cut as I’d thought. I cracked my neck while I contemplated how I might get the water to change. Clearing my throat, I chanted, “Water, water, in the skin, turn to nectar and I’ll . . .” I paused, thinking hard for a suitable rhyming word. “Grin, win, thin . . .din?”
“What are you doing?” Tyrrikasked.
I yelped and threw the skin in the air. The liquid,stillwater, spilled over the rocks. Face burning, I scurried to pick the water skin up, taking my time re-corking it before turning back toward theDrae.
“Umm . . . Making nectar?” Isqueaked.
The silence behind me was suspicious. Had he fallen asleepagain?
I glanced over my shoulder to find Tyrrik wide awake, his expression smooth like when we were in the Quota Fields. Except his lip twitched and his eyes werewatering.
“Are you okay?” I asked, crossing to him. Was he going delirious? Was that evenpossible?
“Fine,” he wheezed, and his handtwitched.