Kindra held Gar’s cloak in her cut hand, his fingers entwined in her other hand as she entered her tent. Petoskey, Monk, and Wolf all turned to them, and she stopped just inside the door.
Monk grinned. “What happened to your hand?”
“Osprey’s spear.”
He grinned wider. “I meant your other hand.”
Instead of letting go, Kindra squeezed Gar’s fingers. “I have a new head of my Honor Guard. Please get out. All of you.”
Petoskey rose, but didn’t leave. “We need to plan.”
“My plan is to bandage my hand and speak to the head of my Honor Guard.” Kindra moved so she wasn’t blocking the door. “I’m not your chief; please get out of my tent.”
Wolf left with a short bow, but Petoskey and Monk didn’t move. When she turned to them, Petoskey spoke. “You can’t take all the advantages of an Odion but none of the responsibility.”
She bristled; none of this had been her idea in the first place. “We’ll talk about this responsibility tomorrow. Right now, I need to bandage my hand and speak to the head of my Honor Guard.”
Monk clasped his father on the shoulder. “Leave them. There’s plenty of time to plan Oak’s death.”
Petoskey acquiesced with a dark frown, and they left Gar and Kindra alone.
“He’s trying to help,” Gar said as he grabbed the basket of leftover bandages from under Kaye’s cot.
“I know that, but…”
“If you say you don’t need help, I’m walking out that door.” Gar dropped the basket next to her. “Accept the help that’s offered before everyone stops offering it.”
She took a half-step back and stared at him. She wasn’t used to the Gar who ran out of patience with her. “I’m sorry,” she said just above a whisper.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
He sighed and picked the basket up. “Sit down. I’ll bandage your hand.”
She sat as he grabbed a bowl, filled it with water, and found a cloth to clean her wound. Even after moons, he knew where everything was and moved about the tent as if it was his. As if everything after Pike’s fight hadn’t happened and they were still friends.
“How did you know where I was?”
He unwrapped her hand before meeting her gaze. “The horse bit me. I came back to bandage it and Monk said you left.”
“But how did you know where to look?”
“You were going to the rock at the river.” He turned his attention back to her hand but kept talking. “The one you carved your father’s mark into. That’s where you always go when you’re upset.”
Her mourning rock. She didn’t think anyone knew about that except Kaye. Kindra didn’t know what to say.
Gar continued. “I watched you carve it during the Starving Winter. You ruined your father’s dagger doing it.”
“Carrick Wain fixed it.”
Gar nodded. He wrapped the bandage around her hand so it was tight, and tied the ends before looking at her. “I wanted to say something then, but I was scared. So I watched you until you stopped going to the rock. It was all I could do. Mourn, and protect you.”
Kindra didn’t know what to say. For eight summers Gar had been protecting her—from the truth, more than anything. Now she knew the truth and still he protected her. Even when she didn’t want or deserve it.
She studied her bandaged hand. “Why didn’t you tell me? I know everyone else was worried I would hurt you, but why didn’t you tell me later?”
He wouldn’t meet her gaze, folding and refolding the extra cloth in his hands. “Kaye told me not to. She said it would only hurt you more.”
“Kaye…knew?” The words were strangled as the knowledge stole all the air from Kindra’s lungs. All this time, Kaye knew who the other boy was and kept it from Kindra. More than that—she’d helped turn Kindra’s heart towards him. It was the cruelest thing she could have done.
Gar’s hands stilled, but his voice was quiet. “Kaye is the reason I’m still alive. The High Priestess thought I was beyond saving—she let the youngest, most inexperienced priestess-apprentice tend to my wounds. Despite that, Kaye saved me. She refused to let me die, even when I begged to leave this life.”
Kindra’s heart ached, and she found it as hard to breathe as when Osprey held the spear to her throat. She shut her eyes and clenched her jaw. Why Gar? She didn’t want to love someone again, only to lose him eventually.
She already loved him.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted as her shoulders sagged.
Gar’s strong, warm hands cupped her face until she opened her eyes and looked at him. “I won’t leave you. I’ll fight Aleda until I can’t fight anymore.”
A tear fell from her eyes. “My father fought that hard.”
He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll fight harder. I promise, Kindra Odion. I won’t leave you in this world alone.”
A sob escaped her, and she hugged him tight. She knew he couldn’t keep his promise—no one could fight the Mother—but she also knew how hard he would try. She didn’t want to be alone anymore.