Sember (Forestfolk, Book 2)

Chapter 14

I awoke to the sound of strange scraping noises. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it kind of had a rhythm to it. Scrape, scrape, scrape. What was it?

I opened my heavy eyelids and tried to blink away the drowsiness. My brain felt like mud. I pressed my palms to my eyes and rubbed them, trying to get rid of the bleariness. I felt like I’d been sleeping for a hundred years.

“You’re awake,” a male voice said.

The mud in my head cleared at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. I switched to high alert and sat up suddenly, fists ready for danger. A young man sat nearby. He was only slightly older than I was, and had the same straw-colored hair that Siena had, and similar blue eyes. An Iceling. We’d reached the Iceling village!

A surge of victory eased the heavy feeling in my body. We had made it.

The previous night’s events came flooding back. I was no longer curled up by the hearth, though. I was in a bed now.

I scanned the room. There were shelves with dishes, a table with chairs, a broom, buckets . . . but no Goben. Then I saw the small knife in the guy’s hand, and I began drawing heat into my fists.

“Where’s my brother?” I asked warily, not taking my eyes off the knife.

“We burned up all the firewood, so he went to fetch more.” He watched me with curiosity. He saw me eyeing his knife and held it up. My eyes followed it. Then he raised his other hand. It held a small piece of wood, half carved.

So that was the sound I’d heard when I had woken up.

He moved slowly, as if to avoid startling me, and placed them both on the table.

I relaxed a little.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

I spent the night in some stranger’s bed, and Goben was missing. How was I supposed to feel? “Better than ever,” I lied.

“Your brother is in awe of you.” He pulled his chair closer and seemed to examine my face. “After what he’s told me, I think I might be too.”

“Goben talks too much,” I said. “What’s your name?”

“Forgive me, I’m Jastin.”

“Jastin,” I repeated, then my eyes drifted to the hearth. “I remember falling asleep over there. Who carried me here?” I hoped it hadn’t been this stranger.

“Your brother fell asleep on the floor not long after you did. Once you felt warmer, I carried you to the bed. I thought it would be more comfortable than the stone hearth.”

My heart sank. I was tall and athletic, meaning I was not light. It was another one of those items in my bucket of Things That Don’t Attract Boys.

“Thank you,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “I hope you didn’t hurt yourself. I’m not exactly petite.”

He chuckled. “It was no trouble at all.”

I noticed the sunlight streaming through the window. Sure, now it was sunny. “How long have I slept?”

“You arrived two nights ago, slept all day yesterday, and now it’s the following morning.”

“I slept all day?” My mouth hung open. Siena, who was known for her epic recovery sleep-ins, would have been proud.

“And all night. I was worried for you. I guess you needed it. Goben said you kept him warm in blizzard conditions for days. You should not have been out in that weather.”

It was true. We’d been woefully underprepared.

Wait, did he just say he was worried about me? I almost smiled at the sentiment, but shook off the feeling. We didn’t know anything about this guy. Could we even trust him?

Goben apparently did. Enough to leave me alone with him. I’d never known Goben to be a poor judge of character, so maybe I could ease up on the suspicion, just a little.

“How much has Goben been telling you about me?” I asked.

He smiled, revealing a dimple in one cheek. “He explained how, until yesterday, you were . . . I think the phrase he used was ‘a boundless fountain of energy.’ You’ve gone on long runs every morning, without fail, since you were young. I find it intriguing.”

“Then he didn’t tell you the scary parts, did he?”

“Scary parts?” He tilted his head. “I don’t think you’re scary.”

I looked away. He still knew nothing. Which was good. It meant he wouldn’t tiptoe around me like most of the residents of Foresthome. I opened my mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by a noisy gurgle from my empty stomach. I gave him a sheepish glance, hoping he hadn’t heard.

He was grinning at me. He’d heard. “Where are my manners?” he said. “You must be famished.”

Before I could reply, he was up and shuffling around the house. I took this opportunity to throw the blanket aside and swing my legs out of bed. I began to stand, then sucked in a sharp hiss of breath as pain shot through my feet. I sat back heavily onto the bed.

Jastin rushed to my side. “What’s wrong?”

“Umm . . . ” I looked down at my feet—which were filthy—and looked away, cringing in embarrassment.

“Don’t tell me you made the entire journey barefoot!”

“No,” I said as my face flushed bright red. “Only half of it.”

“What happened to your shoes?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.” Then I thought about where I’d been sleeping. I grasped the blanket at the end of the bed and peeled it back. Bits of mud and grass clung to the surface where my feet had been. I closed my eyes in mortification. “I’m so sorry. You should have left me on the hearth. I’ll clean that up.”

He gave me a kind smile. “Don’t worry about it. Here.” He handed me a plate with dried fish and an apple.

“Thank you,” I murmured as I eyed the shiny red apple. I watched him cross the room and dig around one of his shelves before I grabbed the apple and took a huge bite. It was heavenly. I slurped the juice as it ran out of my mouth, then froze. I was pretty sure slurping was one of those Things That Don’t Attract Boys. I glanced in his direction, then wiped the rest of the juice with my sleeve. I wolfed down the rest of the apple without slurping, then began gnawing on the dried fish. It was salty and good. Of course, as voracious as my appetite was, I probably could have eaten an old shoe and thought it was delicious.

Jastin returned with a small clay pot of . . . something.

“It’s a salve for your feet. So those cuts don’t get infected,” he said.

“Oh, thank you. I can do that.” I reached for the pot.

He moved it out of my grasp. “No. You sit right there and finish your—” He glanced at my plate. “Oh, you already did.”

Eating like an emaciated wolf. That was another point. I ducked my head. I couldn’t imagine what kind of horrendous impression I was making.

“Don’t move.” He fetched a large basket and set the whole thing next to me. “Take whatever you like, as much as you like.”

He removed the square of cloth covering it, and my mouth watered at the bounty. An entire loaf of bread, more apples, and hunks of dried meat. I forgot all about my feet and tore off a large chunk of bread. An involuntary moan escaped my lips as I chewed.

He smiled and fetched a bucket of water from under the table, setting it next to my feet. Then he reached for my leg.

“You don’t have to do that,” I said, reluctant to let a stranger touch my feet. I was, after all, serious about my personal space. “I’ll take care of it.” I reached for the bucket.

He slapped my hand away and went for my leg again.

“Jastin.”

He looked up when I said his name. His eyes caught me by surprise. I already knew they were like Siena’s, but up close, I could see they were a little bluer. But no less intense. I wondered if it was an Iceling trait, to be able to see clear into a person’s soul.

I forgot what I was going to say, and he resumed his task by first rolling up one muddy pant leg, then the other. His movements were careful, as if dealing with a wild animal. The water in the bucket made sloshing sounds as he dipped a washcloth and wrung it out. He began wiping my shins, and I couldn’t help feeling self-conscious. He was a stranger, after all. Maybe even a handsome one.

After tossing the cloth into the bucket, he picked up my foot—his hands felt cold from the frigid water—and dunked the entire thing into the bucket. He watched for my reaction. Since I was almost back to my old self, I didn’t mind the cold.

I had mixed feelings about Jastin washing my feet. I didn’t know him, and wasn’t used to people touching me. But it felt nice. And awkward, at least for me. I shoved another chunk of bread in my mouth to distract myself. Somehow, washing my feet felt more intimate to me than his hand on my face yesterday.

When he finished, he dried my feet with another cloth, and then retrieved the little pot.

“I can take it from here,” I said, and tried to retrieve it again.

He had an amused look on his face when he turned to me. “You are an independent one, aren’t you?”

I hadn’t thought about that. One more point. “I kind of have to be,” I said cryptically.

His head listed to one side, but he didn’t press for an explanation. He simply said, “It’s not a bad thing.”

Really? I smiled and cheerfully retracted the point from my list. Then I reached for the pot again.

He yanked it away. “Stubborn too.”

That one I already knew about. I sighed and started gnawing on a piece of dried meat.

He removed the lid and dug a gob of the salve onto his finger, then touched it to my foot. I was unprepared for the blast of pain, and nearly choked on the meat as I grunted through clenched teeth.

Jastin looked up apologetically. “You have a swollen laceration here.” He tried again, carefully spreading the salve over it. “How could you possibly have walked so far on this?”

My hands clutched at the material of my pants while he worked. “The snow must have numbed it,” I said, trying to keep the pain out of my voice.

“You have the soul of a warrior.”

A proud smile plastered my face, and I distracted myself with another apple.

I blew out a breath when he finally finished his ministrations and wrapped both feet in bandages. He sat back, and I inspected his handiwork. The wrappings were tidy and secure as I wiggled my toes. “You did a very nice job. Thank you.”

He stood up and glanced at the basket. So did I.

I winced with embarrassment. The only thing left were a couple of apples and a single strip of dried meat. I’d scarfed the entire loaf of bread and everything else.

I couldn’t quite meet his eyes. “Umm . . . I hope you weren’t hungry.”

“Sember.”

I looked up at him then, liking the sound of my name on his lips more than I should have.

“You are a guest in my house, and therefore welcome to anything in it.”

I looked at the basket again and told myself I would refill it when I could. I was no freeloader, and I was not about to single-handedly clean out someone’s food stores.

Goben suddenly burst in through the front door.

Thank goodness. Maybe he could save me from further embarrassment.

“Squirrel! You’re awake!” His face radiated happiness.

Or he could embarrass me further.

He dumped an armload of wood by the fireplace and strode over to wrap me into a fierce hug. I squeezed him back, every bit as relieved that he was well.

Jastin raised an eyebrow. “Squirrel?”

“There’s a cute story behind that,” Goben offered as he pulled away. “When Sember was five—”

“Goben! Can I have a word with you?” Why did he insist on talking about me to someone we just met?

He cast Jastin an apologetic glance and sat next to me. Jastin excused himself and went outside.

“What happened to your feet?” Goben peered at the bandages. I gave him a pointed look, and then he remembered. “Oh, yeah. Is it bad?”

“There’s one laceration, but the rest are small cuts. I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, good. What did you want to talk about?”

I took another apple from the basket and turned it over in my hands. “You need to stop telling stories about me.”

“Why? They’re good stories.”

“We don’t know this guy! I mean, look what happened at the last place we stayed at.”

“He’s been nothing but nice,” Goben said. “We spent the morning talking while you were snoring, and—”

“I do not snore!”

“Okay, maybe I’m the one who snores. But my point is, we talked about stuff, and I think we can trust him.”

Unconvinced, I said, “Tell me why you trust him.”

“Up until four months ago, he had a family.”

I sat up straighter. “He did?” It hadn’t occurred to me to wonder why he was living on his own. Not that he wasn’t capable, but children usually stayed with their parents until circumstances changed. And I guess four months ago, circumstances had changed a lot. “The plague.”

He nodded. “His parents and his sister.”

My heart constricted. He’d lost his entire family in such a short span. It must have been devastating. “Wait,” I thought aloud. “That must mean he’s Gifted.”

“Huh. I hadn’t thought about that. We didn’t talk about Gifted stuff except for you.”

“That’s another thing. Goben, no one knows me here. They don’t know to be afraid of me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Sember, you’re not dangerous. Not anymore.”

“Did you know I almost killed Dozan?”

His eyes grew big. “Really? What did he do to you?”

I smiled despite myself. Goben knew I was only dangerous when provoked. “Let’s just say he tried to get fresh with me.”

He practically guffawed.

I frowned at him. “What’s so funny? Is it so preposterous that someone might want to be with me?”

“Wasn’t he a little short for you?” he said when he finally stopped laughing.

“So?” My temper began to flare. Was it so laughable that a boy might be interested in me? Sure, Dozan didn’t exactly discriminate, but still. Goben could go suck a toad.

“I heard you blew him away when you first met. Was that a turn-on for him?” His grin infuriated me.

“Where’d you hear that?” I demanded, then I decided I was too mad to hear any more. “Never mind, just . . . shut up!”

“Sember, I’m teasing.”

“Go tease someone else, and leave me alone!”

He closed his mouth.

He had no idea what kind of nerve he’d just hit. Sure, he thought I was impressive, maybe even heroic this time. My gift could be very powerful. But it was because of my gift that I foresaw a lifetime of loneliness. I was undesirable, and to be reminded of that twisted my gut. “Just get out,” I said quietly.

“Sember—”

“Get out!” I pushed him off the bed. A small blast escaped my hands as I pushed and it sent him stumbling forward.

He looked back at me. The hurt expression on his face sent pangs of guilt through my heart, but I was hurt too. And angry.

He slammed out of the house.

I was used to being the one to storm out of a room. When I got mad, I was the one to leave. But this time I couldn’t. To run on my injured feet would be stupid. I found myself shaking with anger. With no outlet and no desire to burn the house down, I did the only thing I could. I backhanded the basket off the bed, sending the apples and strip of meat flying. Then I flung my face into the pillow and cried.

Crying was stupid and pointless, and I avoided it when I could. But all my self-doubts crowded in on me at once. I intimidated people. I hurt people. I pushed them away. Who could possibly stand being around someone as prickly as me?

I thought about my childhood, following Siena around, wishing I could be like her. I was sixteen now, and I still wanted to be like her. Siena was goodness and kindness and hope and light. She was life itself. People loved her. And I . . . I was a foul-tempered firebug who took everything the wrong way.

I was caustic.

I allowed myself another minute of self-pity before sitting up and drying my tears. It was just in time too, because Jastin chose that moment to come back inside. He saw the overturned basket on the floor and looked at me. I looked away, hoping he didn’t notice my red-rimmed eyes.

“I saw Goben storming out,” he began.

I didn’t answer him, and instead constructed an iron wall around my raw emotions. I wouldn’t be ridiculed again. Not by Goben. Not by anyone.

Jastin came over and sat on the floor so I was forced to look at him. “I used to fight with my sister,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe the shouting matches. But I’d give anything to be able to fight with her again.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and clamped my teeth together, clinging to the wall I thought had been made of iron, but now felt like a flimsy pile of twigs. I will not cry.

Anything I said at this point would sound petty compared to his grief, so I stayed quiet. When it finally became apparent that I would not talk, he got up to retrieve the basket and food. I refused to look at him, my emotions too close to the surface to trust myself. When he finished, he set something on the bed next to me and left again.

After the door closed, I turned to see what it was.

My heart squeezed.

It was a pair of boots.

They were my size, made of leather and straps. They were perfect. His kindness made the lump return to my throat. I’d been so rude. I felt like a monster all over again. Maybe I just had to accept that this was what I was.

Caustic.