she’d consider lying to him. But she was beginning to think there was no hiding from Charlie Rand. Whether in actions or words.
She met his gaze. “Your mission is to free Princess Ilaria. Mine is to make sure you succeed. I won’t give up mine any more than you will yours.”
Charlie scowled. “Harrison did put you up to this.”
“No. No one did. This was my plan. My choice.”
“It’s not your mission if you make it up on your own.”
She cocked her head. “Who directed you to free Princess Ilaria?” She couldn’t believe her temerity in questioning him like this. A few months ago, she never would have dared question any man, anyone, but the humans had encouraged her to speak freely. She’d embraced that freedom more slowly but no less appreciatively than the others.
And this was Charlie. For a reason she couldn’t fully understand, she knew he’d never hurt her, no matter what she said or did.
“My going after Princess Ilaria is different. It needs to be done.” His eyes snapped with determination as his gaze held hers.
Tarrys lifted her chin. “And you need to reach her safely. Doing all I can to make that happen is what I have to do.” She suddenly couldn’t bear having him so unhappy with her. Looking into his eyes, she implored him to understand, and reached for him, only to let her hand drop to her side. “I’ve never been free to choose my path before, Charlie. And I won’t remain so forever. While I can, I choose to help the humans win. And that means making sure you succeed.”
He watched her for breathless moments, his gaze delving deep inside her, stirring her pulse and her own determination.
Finally, he looked up at the sky that was beginning to lighten to a soft gold. Twining his fingers behind his head, he arched back, squeezing his eyes closed as if he were in pain.
With a groan, he straightened and looked at her, his expression wry but not unkind. “You’re a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? If you’re coming, you’re going to have to keep up. I can’t slow down for you. There’s too much at stake.”
“I understand.”
Something gleamed in his eyes she couldn’t quite name. A challenge, perhaps? He wasn’t going to make this easy on her. But she didn’t expect him to. Didn’t want him to. She’d come to help him, not slow him down. But she had to wonder how much more difficult this journey was going to be on her now that she’d consigned herself to his side night and day.
Charlie turned and started off again, his strides longer, if possible, than before.
With a sigh, Tarrys held tight to her bow with one hand, lifting the hem of her gown with her other, and hurried after him.
Though she trusted him never to hurt her physically, she feared he’d end up hurting her all the same, more than any Esri ever could.
The woman was tireless.
All day Charlie had kept up this pace, driving them both hard and fast for more than twelve hours, resting for no more than minutes at a time. He’d been certain she wouldn’t last. Certain that she’d suddenly remember someplace else she could go to wait for the gate to open again. But he was damn near exhausted and Tarrys still jogged at his side.
They’d yet to see another person, thankfully, but he’d gotten an eyeful of the local wildlife. They’d watched a herd of white deer with large red polka dots leap over the stream as lightly as Santa’s reindeer taking off. The flying snakes with their high-pitched screams were everywhere, wrapping themselves around high tree branches when they lighted. But the ones he’d found the most interesting, if oddly unsettling, were the packs of neon-green chipmunks that scurried across the ground like large shag rugs on the move.
Charlie hazarded a glance behind him where Tarrys followed close. Sweat glistened on her forehead, but her expression showed no sign of distress.
The little slave was tougher than she looked.
At first, her stubbornness had annoyed him. Hell, everything about this situation annoyed him. But he couldn’t help admiring the courage it had taken to give up the cushy life she had now to try to make a difference. But wanting to help wasn’t the same thing as helping. He couldn’t afford to compromise his mission just to make her feel good about herself. He wasn’t giving an inch. Either she kept up, or she found somewhere to hide until the gates opened again.
Tarrys wasn’t his problem.
He couldn’t afford to let her be, though he had to keep stirring his anger to keep the need to protect her at bay.
“Tarrys, wake up. It’s time to get going.”
Tarrys groaned silently, her exhausted body crying at the thought of rising, of moving at all, let alone returning to that bone-jarring run she’d had to maintain to keep up with Charlie’s much longer strides. She felt like she’d just closed her eyes. And probably had.
The rogue thought flitted through her mind that she could tell him to go on without her. To let her sleep. But helping the humans was the only useful thing, the only real thing, she’d ever done. Nothing would stop her. Nothing short of enslavement.
The slightly caustic smell of the pink flower beds teased her nostrils, the air filled with the clicking sounds of the night insects. Her eyes opened, heavy and coarse with grit. The sky was starting to lighten again, but they’d traveled most of the night. They couldn’t have rested for any time at all.
Charlie stood over her, looking tired but utterly determined. He didn’t have to say the words for her to hear them ringing in her head. You have to keep up.
She forced herself to her feet and slung her bow and quiver over her shoulder. When he turned and strode off in that ground-eating gait of his, she once more ran, though her body felt like it was going to come apart and start dropping, piece by piece onto the ground. Marceils healed injuries quickly, but she needed rest and sleep to replenish her stores of energy. And she’d had little of either in more than a day.
None of that mattered. Nothing but staying with Charlie Rand, though she wondered what use she’d be to him if all she could do now was to keep one foot moving in front of the other.
“We’re on a collision course with a chipmunk rug,” Charlie said a short while later. “Should we step aside and let them pass?”
“No.” She caught a glimpse of green, but could see little beyond Charlie’s broad back. “They’ll go around us.”
Minutes later, several hundred small green petermoles covered the ground at their feet. Charlie stopped so quickly, Tarrys nearly ran into him.
“You can keep walking,” she told him, though the respite was welcome. “You can’t step on them.”
“That’s not why I stopped. I swear I just saw a big black cat with three white horns. But it disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared.”
Tarrys froze. Her blood went cold.
“A black trimor. The most deadly creature in Esria.”
Конец
