I had been somewhat reluctant to leave Rowe alone with the animal clan, but he’d already promised to behave himself, and for now that was the best I was going to get. I could only hope he was intrigued by the promise that the Fire Starter planned to join our little uprising. At the very least, he now knew we were headed for Savannah, and the one-eyed naturi could take another swipe at her if he had it in mind.
Bending down, I cupped the cold water and splashed it on my face a couple times before wiping away the excess. Kane’s blood had covered my face and hands, leaving me feeling sticky and dirty. I pushed the cold to the furthest reaches of my mind as I scrubbed my hands together, washing away the last of the blood. Before rising, I ran my wet hands over my legs and the rest of my body. It had been too long since I’d properly bathed. Too many nights of running and hunting. Cynnia had kept me on the run for the better part of the past month, seeking out any who might join our cause. Savannah held the promise of a day’s sleep on a comfortable bed and a warm bath.
There was a subtle shift in the air, a slight change in the energy that had me jerking upright. I was completely unarmed in the stream, leaving all my clothes and weapons on the bank. I thought I would be safe so far in animal clan territory, that I could sneak a few private moments to myself. Of course, the alliance with the animal clan was shaky at best, and I wasn’t sure everyone agreed with the idea of working with Rowe and me. Someone could be looking to strike while I was at my weakest.
When I scanned the immediate region, my heart stopped beating for a second. Rowe had sought me out. The area was thick with trees, blotting out the moonlight, but after a moment I could pick him out on the rise leading down to the stream, leaning against one of the trees. He hadn’t been standing there long since it was impossible for him to sneak up on me with the iron collar around his neck. He couldn’t cloak his presence.
“What do you want?” I demanded. I pulled my left wing around my front, blocking his view of my body as best I could while my right wing continued to hang limp at my side. I turned in the stream so I was facing him, taking an unsteady step backward on the slippery rocks.
“How is your wing healing?” he asked, descending the rest of the way to the bank of the stream.
“Fine. It will be just fine,” I snapped, taking another step back. “Return to the camp. I will be right behind you.”
“It’s not fine,” he growled back at me. “You can’t retract your wings yet. It’s not healing properly.” He took a step into the water and I took a wobbly step back as my left foot settled on some shifting gravel. “Stay still! I’m not chasing after you. I just want to look at your wing.”
“And I said it’s fine! I don’t need you looking at it!”
“Look! If your wing isn’t properly mended, we’re not flying out of here tomorrow night, and I’m anxious to set foot in Savannah,” he admitted. “Now let me look to make sure that it isn’t broken.”
“It’s not broken. Please, Rowe, don’t come any closer.”
The naturi shoved his hands through his shaggy black hair, pushing it away from his one good eye. For just a moment I could clearly see the scars that stretched across one side of his face, disappearing under the eye patch and down his neck into his shirt. “What? You make these grand speeches about me being the savior of our people and you don’t trust me! I’m not going to hurt you. If I was going to do that, I wouldn’t have bothered to walk out into this icy water.”
“I trust you,” I whispered, staring down at the water, wishing it was darker out, but it didn’t matter. His night vision, like mine, was perfect.
“Then what? You’re embarrassed about being naked in front of me? We’re soldiers, Nyx, tending wounds. That’s all. Besides, it’s only your back.”
“I know.” And that was where the problem lay. He was going to see my back and I was afraid of taking the risk.
“Will you hold still?” he asked after a long tense moment.
“Only if you promise to never breathe a word of what you see.”
“This is ridiculous—”
“Promise me!”
“I promise,” he grumbled as he trudged out into the icy stream to where I stood. It wasn’t until he was almost directly next to me that I finally turned around so he could look at my injured right wing.
His touch was amazingly gentle as his fingers first glided over the feathers in a soft caress before slowly moving up along the bone. I flinched beneath that touch as he neared the wound and his hands stopped until my wing settled again.
“The bone might have been initially cracked, but it feels solid to me,” he announced after completing his inspection. “You’ll probably have to sleep with them out today to allow the healing to finish, but you’ll be in the skies again by sunset. I’ve seen far worse.”
I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he bent down and cupped his hands together so he could capture some water. He poured it over the wound, washing away some of the dried blood that was sticking to the feathers.
For a second I thought I was in the clear. Then he repeated the process a second time, pausing to stretch the wing out.
“Great Mother forsake me,” he swore, his hand stilling on my wing while his other hand rested on my left shoulder. At that moment I knew he had finally caught sight of the tree tattoo on my back.
“You promised, Rowe,” I reminded him desperately.
“Nyx,” he whispered in return. He released my shoulder and I could feel the cold tips of his fingers tracing down my spine along the massive tree that covered my back. “I don’t understand. You’re younger than I am. Younger than the ancient weavers, and yet . . .”
“I know,” I murmured, hanging my head. I could only envision what he was seeing. I hadn’t seen a reflection of my back in more than two centuries, but I could guess what was there—the branches now stretched over my shoulders and were starting to creep down my arms.
All naturi were born with the tree tattoo. It was a symbol of our connection to the earth. As we grew in age and strength, the tattoo grew as well, stretching across our bodies and gaining more details. My father had not kept me alive because of some deep love for his daughter. He had kept me alive because my tree had been more developed than any other child he’d ever seen. In me, he saw great possibilities, a deeper connection to the earth.
Unfortunately, it all had to be hidden. I was the Dark One. If anyone suspected that I might be stronger, more powerful, than some of our ancient weavers, I would be killed on the spot.
The fingers on both of Rowe’s hands traveled up my back again. He gently forced me to lower my wings so he could see the branches starting to stretch down my arms.
“The roots have reached the backs of your knees,” he whispered in awe. “At this rate, in a few years, the soles of your feet will be covered in the roots. You will be in constant contact with the earth and her powers.” His warm breath brushed against my neck, sending goose bumps down my arms. I could feel his body heat against my exposed back and the gentle brush of his shirt.
“If I live that long,” I muttered under my breath. With the war coming, I was no longer counting my remaining expanse of life in years.
Rowe abruptly stepped away from me, dropping his hands back to his sides. “Your tree is more advanced than Aurora’s,” he declared. “That’s why you’ve always dressed like you have. You’ve had to hide.”
“It was for the best,” I quickly argued. “Our people needed to believe in Aurora, and it would not have helped their faith in her if they knew that her younger sister had a stronger connection to the earth. She would have been dethroned.”
“And you would have been killed,” he said, finishing the thought to its natural end, but he quickly continued. “Why hide it now? Let the world know that you are stronger than her.”