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“A few times. The most memorable being when the waters receded from the marsh. It left behind a mess of mud that took months to dry. When it was still fresh, a small boy fell in the thick mire and sank. I came as fast as I could, but try as I might, I couldn’t retrieve him.” The mother’s wail haunted her still.
“That wasn’t your fault,” Kormac spoke softly.
“It was, because if I’d been better at manipulating earth instead of concentrating on fire and air which I found more useful, I could have possibly saved him.”
Hogan disagreed. “The boy would have died of suffocation within minutes. From the sounds of it, given the time it took for you to be fetched, he was never savable.”
“A part of me realizes that, but I would have liked to have been able to give the mother a body to bury.” Her head dipped.
“After that incident, you learned, didn’t you?” Kormac roused her from her melancholy.
“I did. I made it a point to learn how to work with earth and water.”
“Like that trick you did with the water in the fountain.” Eager Rory had the curiosity and eagerness of a puppy.
“Among other things. Would you like to see the earth spell I use most often when travelling?” At his enthusiastic nod, she rose and moved a small distance from them where grass struggled to grow in hard-packed earth. She weaved her hands, pulling at the strands in the ground, tugging and layering them, forcing it to do her bidding. By the time she finished, she’d made herself a tiny hovel of dirt.
Wide-eyed Rory huffed, “That’s amazing.”
“It’s unnatural,” spat Loff before stomping off to his bedroll.
“Ignore him,” Hogan murmured as he came to examine her spot for the night. “It’s solid. Good work.”
“Would you like one too?”
“Save your magic,” Kormac commanded. “We have no idea what kind of threats we might face and I want you at full strength.”
At least he no longer tried to get rid of her. “Aye, aye, Warlord.”
“Rory and Hogan, you’ll take over the watch from Gann and Moony when the moon is highest. Loff, you and I will take the watch after that. Let’s get some rest. We’ve got a long ride tomorrow.”
Without a good night or even a look in her direction, Kormac stalked to his bedroll and lay down.
Someone was grouchy. Whatever.
Fionna fetched her bag and brought it to her dirt abode. The bedroll she had packed expanded with a simple gesture. Before she crawled in, though, she set wards around the camp, although not visibly, not with Loff eyeing her instead of sleeping. She cast a net over the area that would warn if anything larger than a squirrel approached.
Apparently, she should have placed another over the opening to her hut because she woke to a scuffle and emerged to see Kormac holding his sword to Loff’s throat.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“I caught him trying to sneak into your hut with a dagger.”
The knife lay on the ground, and she might have wondered if Kormac misunderstood until Loff spat, “The only good witch is a dead one.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kormac hadn’t been able to sleep. Unusual since a soldier learned early on to get rest when possible. However, lying in his bedroll under the stars, he found himself thinking of Fionna.
Not Lomar.
Or dragons.
Or even the probable foolishness of him choosing to come on this mission after the recent attack.
All those things paled in comparison to the witch. He thought of the way his heart stopped upon seeing Fionna, then how his cock hardened at her revealing attire. A woman’s legs shouldn’t have titillated. Then again, everything about her roused him.
With thoughts of her keeping him awake, he’d heard Loff leave his sleeping roll. He’d watched only long enough to realize where the soldier was headed with a knife in hand.
