23
“If you would only let me do something to help,” I said for the fifth time that hour as I followed Marta through the camp.
“You need to rest,” Marta said. “Don’t worry about helping.”
“Marta, if―”
She ignored me and ducked into the open kitchen tent, leaving a sheet of paper under a stone on the table and giving Neil a wave before hurrying on toward the makeshift stables near the western side of the camp.
“I could be useful.” I spoke through my teeth as I chased Marta through the trees.
I’m not proud of the three days I spent following Marta through the camp.
The first full day I had with the Black Bloods I mostly just slept. The climb through the mountains had taken more out of me than I cared to admit.
After that, the horrible itching ache to be doing something set in. I didn’
