Chapter 12: Twelve: Healing and Hearth

Lira spun around, shock written all over her beautiful face.

Gone were her priestly robes, bodice and skirt, and in their place were rough-hewn peasant garb: hemp trousers and shirt, her feet bare on the floor of the hut. Her hair was tucked beneath a cowl, the hood framing her face. But nothing could hide the shape of her body, or the beauty of her face.

Her eyes widened as she recognized me. “Oh, my God!” Then her gaze fell to my shoulder, and her eyes grew even wider.

I straightened slowly, lowering my rapier. “What are you doing here?” That didn’t come out right. I tried again. “How did you find me?”

“I’m your High Priestess, my God. I can track you wherever you go.” Her gaze dropped, a flush of color creeping into her cheeks as her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, unable to meet my eyes. “I apologize for taking so long. Drakos prevented me from leaving for several days.”

“Drakos?” I had taken a step toward her before I’d realized I’d moved. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?”

“Oh … um … no, nothing too bad.” Lira glanced away, her fingers fidgeting as her shoulders tensed. “A slap here and there.”

I was going to kill him. Rip out his entrails and make him eat them. I was going to snap every finger off the hands he’d laid on her.

It was an effort to keep my anger from my face as I reached within her hood to gently cup her cheek. “Where did he hit you? Does it hurt still?”

“It was nothing my healing magic couldn’t fix.” For a moment, she pressed her cheek into my palm as she gazed up at me, her eyes wide and bright. Then she stirred, her cheek slipping away from my touch. She pulled off her cowl, letting it fall to the table nearby, and shook out her long blonde hair. “Would you like me to heal your shoulder, my God? It looks awfully painful.”

“Can you?”

“Of course.” She gave me a smile. Then it faded as quickly as it came, and she looked unsure. “It … it would be easier if I touched you. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes,” I said, my voice husky. I cleared my throat. “That would be fine, thank you.” I shrugged the jacket off my other shoulder, letting it drop to my hand, then threw it on the bed behind me.

God Power Deactivated. Stealth has gained 2 ranks.

Guess that was my five minutes. Not a bad gain for creeping up on a hut.

Lira raised her hands, touching my bare shoulder so gently, but it still made me flinch.

“Sorry,” she murmured. That delicate crease of her brow returned as she focused, then her hands began to glow with a green-white light.

It was a strange sensation, like pouring ice-cold water on a burn. Except Lira’s magic caressed my skin, penetrating within, and wherever it touched, the pain subsided.

“All done,” she whispered as the light faded.

I glanced down at my shoulder. Even the dried blood had been cleansed from my skin. I flexed my arm, and there was no pain at all. “Thank you, Lira.”

She looked up at me, giving me one of her trademark smiles. “My pleasure.”

I stared at her, standing so close. Her face was inches away, her lips curved into that alluring smile, her wide, expressive eyes locked onto mine. I wanted to kiss her, to take her in my arms.

Instead, I stepped back, turning away. I had no right to touch this woman – certainly not while Drakos still lived. Hell, she probably was only here because she had to be, in her capacity as my High Priestess – whatever that meant. She should be disappointed in me. She should hate me.

I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to check her information window and see how much her Devotion had fallen, how shaken her Faith had become.

“I’m … I’m sorry,” I said, instead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stay.” I turned back to face her, hoping my sincerity showed in my eyes. “Please understand: I left because I wasn’t strong enough to fight Drakos. I left to grow stronger, so that I could come back and finish the task for which you summoned me. I won’t let Drakos live a moment longer than I need to. I’ll kill him, just as soon as I can. I’ll save the people of Norathil, I promise you, Lira.”

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She stood there, gazing at me, as lovely as the first day I’d seen her. Even such coarse clothing couldn’t detract from her beauty. Her skin was as flawless as I remembered, her eyes sparkling, her smile captivating. She was perfect.

“I know, Kaelan,” she said, her voice as gentle and as serene as I’d ever heard it. Gone was the light-hearted optimism and the eager-to-please fluff. There was nothing but sincerity in the simplicity of her reply.

“You … you know?”

“I wasn’t always sure,” she said. “At first … please forgive me for this … I doubted. I wondered if you’d fled, because you thought you couldn’t win. I wondered if you might not ever want to return. I was weak … I’m sorry.

“But as I followed after you, I met some of the people whose paths you’d crossed. The girl, Fran. She spoke of your willingness to learn, and your respect for the hamlet. Rolf, the blacksmith. He spoke of how you offered freely, without expecting anything in return.” Lira smiled, her eyes gazing up at me with the passion of her faith. “And I knew. I knew you were here for the purpose for which I summoned you. That every day, you were striving toward it.” Her brow furrowed with that small line, making me want to reach out and smooth it away. “I don’t understand why you don’t merely use the powers I know you’re capable of, but…” she smiled again, “I don’t claim to understand the ways of a God.”

“I’m not—” I stopped myself. I’m not a God – but was that even true? My character sheet said I was. I was immortal. I had the powers of a God – maybe not the powers Lira hoped I’d have, but still … powers. I could learn. I could learn everything with the powers I’d been granted.

Perhaps this was my purpose in this world. Perhaps killing Drakos and freeing Valora was my way home. If I learned all I needed, if I mastered the magics of this world, maybe I could even send myself home … once Drakos was no more.

“You’re not what, Kaelan?” Lira’s voice brought me back.

“I’m not going to stop until I’ve done what you summoned me to do.”

She smiled again. Then, abruptly, her face fell. “Oh no!”

“What?”

“The stew!”

She rushed past me, brushing against me in the small confines of the hut, and pulled the ladle from the pot above the hearth. The savory aromas of hearty broth assailed my senses, and my mouth began to water. How had I missed it? I’d been so focused on Lira, that was how.

She bent over the pot, the material of her trousers tightening distractingly over her rump. I couldn’t help but run my eyes over her. She glanced back, and damn, she’d caught me checking her out. But she only smiled before turning back to stir the stew.

“It’s fine. A little drier than I’d intended. I can add some more water.” She looked at me again. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Mmm,” she said. “I thought you’d lost a little weight.”

I glanced down at myself. It was true that my stomach didn’t bulge as much as it had before. Hell, I was feeling fitter than I had in a long time, despite the lack of decent meals. A week of walking, hunting, and subsisting mostly on berries had worked wonders. But I would need my strength for what was to come, and a bowl of Lira’s stew sounded delicious.

Except I didn’t have any bowls. “I’m sorry, I’m a little under equipped. I only have the pot. I don’t even have a spoon.”

“Oh, I have enough for both of us,” she said, crossing to where a brown and dirty travel robe lay folded in one corner of the hut. Beside it sat a pair of well-used and dirty boots, and beneath was her pack. Lira rummaged until she withdrew pewter bowls and plates, knives, forks and spoons. Two of everything. “Shall we eat outside?”

I carried the chairs outside, and we ate before the hut in the tranquility of our small valley. Lira’s horse barely glanced at us, enjoying its dinner of long, juicy grass. Afterward, Lira collected the bowls, and we watched the sun dip slowly behind the hills.

“It’s very pretty here,” Lira said. “Peaceful.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That stream is convenient. I thought I would bathe before bed.”

“Good idea.” After fighting in the mine, I needed a bath too. “I’ll go after you.”

“I only have one towel,” she said. “I should have brought a second.”

“That’s fine, you go ahead and use it.”

“What will you use?”

“It’s not cold out here. I’ll air dry.”

“You’re such a gracious God.” She lowered her eyes. “I’ll sleep on the floor, of course. Or outside, if that would be preferable.”

“No way.” I shook my head. “You have the bed. I’ve grown quite accustomed to sleeping in the wild.”

“Oh no, I couldn’t possibly sleep in the bed while you’re on the ground.”

I glanced away, my heart racing. All this talk of bathing and beds was distracting me in the most awkward way, and there was far too much potential for the abuse of power in our dynamic.

“We could share?” Lira suggested tentatively, and I whipped my head back around toward her. Did she mean…?

She looked down to where her hands were fidgeting in her lap. “It is the obvious solution, and … the bed is big enough for two.” She glanced up. “If you want to?”

Boy, did I ever want to. But I still had some self-respect.

“It’s fine. I’d prefer you to take the bed. I’ll be quite comfortable on the floor.”

“Oh.” She sounded despondent. “Well, if you think that’s best.”

The silence lingered. Was she waiting for me to say something?

I swallowed. “I … er … well, it probably is for the best.” That didn’t sound right. I tried again. “I’ll be just fine. Quite comfortable. Really.”

She gave me a small smile, like she didn’t believe me. Then she rose. “I think I’ll bathe, then.”

I was glad the water would be cold. I’d need a cold bath after this.

It was going to be a long night.