The rough canvas of the council tent antechamber scraped Kael's shoulder as he shifted his weight off his bad ankle. Pine smoke and dried sage clung to the air, sharp enough to cut through the lingering coppery tang of blood still stuck under his fingernails from the fight with Theron's hunt squad. He'd just closed the glowing interface only he could see, the faint tingle of the newly unlocked passive slot still buzzing under his skin, when a warm hand wrapped around his elbow. He'd been staring at the screen for three full minutes before closing it, running his gaze over his 51/100 Essence count, the still-locked Augment slots for Strength and Regen, half-convinced the whole floating text thing was a weird fever dream sparked by the scrape on his forearm from hitting a rock mid-dagger throw during the squad fight. The frayed cuff of his old Brooklyn hoodie, the only piece of his old life he'd woken up with in the Wastes, peeking out from under his leather jacket, was still smudged with ash from the cave fire they'd had to douse in a hurry when the hunt squad found them.
Elara's calloused fingers dug lightly into his jacket sleeve, steadying him when he wobbled. "You're favoring that ankle again," she said, her voice low enough that the council members murmuring on the other side of the tent flap couldn't hear. Her dark hair was tied back with a frayed leather thong, a smudge of ash streaked across her left cheek, and the corner of her mouth tugged up in that half-smile he'd grown so used to over the last three days. "Jessa's still arguing with the supply master about the last rabbit run. We've got ten minutes before they're ready for us. Let's get you off that foot." The cuff of her own jacket was patched with the same scrap of hoodie he'd torn off to fix it for her in the cave, when a stray arrow had sliced through the fabric during their escape from the gully. He'd melted the edge with the fire striker to keep it from fraying, and she'd teased him for having worse sewing skills than a seven-year-old Wildwalker initiate, even though she'd worn the jacket every day since without complaining.
She didn't wait for him to answer, just tugged him toward the tent exit, her hand staying curled around his elbow even when he steadied himself. The cold Wastes wind hit his face when they stepped outside, carrying the distant sound of Wildwalker children laughing by the cookfire and the low crackle of burning pine. She led him past a row of pointed hide tents to a smaller, unoccupied supply tent half-hidden behind a stack of cured deer hides, the canvas walls flapping gently in the breeze. The low-hanging sun painted the scrub brush and dry red dirt in streaks of burnt orange, and a cluster of teen Wildwalkers were clustered by a stack of scrap wood a few feet away, practicing knife throws. One of them missed his mark by a foot, hitting a crate of dried apples instead, and the group erupted in jeers, the kid flipping them off with a grin before yanking his blade free and brushing apple dust off the edge. A tabby cat, the camp's official mouser that everyone just called Mouser, was curled on top of the deer hide stack, watching them pass with half-lidded eyes.
"Mara uses this to store spare arrowheads when she's prepping for patrols," she said, pushing the flap open and holding it for him. "No one will bother us here." The inside smelled like tanned leather and sharp fletching glue, and a chipped ceramic mug half-full of cold pine tea sat on one of the smaller crates, a crumpled charcoal sketch of a red fox tucked under it. Elara had told him once that Mara drew when she was bored on long patrols, selling the sketches to traveling traders for extra honey and sharpening stones, and this one looked good enough that he half-wondered if she was saving it for a trader who paid extra for animal art.
A stack of wooden crates sat against the far wall, and Elara gestured for him to sit on the sturdiest one before kneeling in front of him, her knees brushing his scuffed boots. She tugged the edge of his pant leg up to check the bandage Healer Marnie had wrapped around his ankle less than an hour earlier, her fingers brushing the sensitive skin just above the fabric. The bandage was edged with tiny stitched white daisies, a quirk of Healer Marnie's that she did for every patient under 30, swearing the silly little decorations boosted healing speed even if they didn't count as an official stat buff. Kael had laughed when she'd wrapped it earlier, telling her he'd never had a bandage with flowers on it before, and she'd ruffled his hair and called him a sheltered city boy, completely unaware that "city" meant skyscrapers and subway trains and a world 1000 miles away from the Wastes.
Kael flinched, and she paused, raising an eyebrow. "Pain?""Nope," he said, forcing his voice to stay casual. The contact sent a faint jolt up his spine, the kind he'd been trying to ignore since he'd carried her out of the gully, her body pressed against his back as they ran from the Covenant patrol. "Just ticklish."Elara snorted, tightening the edge of the bandage a little harder than necessary. "Liar. You didn't flinch when a hound bit your arm in the ravine. Don't tell me a little brush of my hand is worse than shadow hound teeth.""Fair," he said, grinning. He watched her work, her brow furrowed in focus, and his gaze caught on the edge of a bright green leaf sticking out of the top of her tunic pocket. "Is that the mint sprig I gave you?" He'd found it growing out of a crack in a gully rock, the only spot of bright green for miles, back when they'd thought Elara was going to die from the hound venom before they reached camp. He'd plucked it and tucked it behind her ear while she was still shaky from the adrenaline of realizing she wasn't dying, and she'd rolled her eyes but hadn't taken it out for three full hours, until they'd had to dive behind a boulder to avoid a crossbow bolt from Theron's hunt squad. He'd assumed it had fallen out in the brush in the chaos, lost forever like the rest of the small, stupidly nice things they'd had to leave behind in their run from the Covenant.
Her hands stilled for half a beat, and then she pulled it out, the leaves a little crumpled but still crisp, the sharp, fresh scent drifting up between them. He'd given it to her back in the gully, after he'd boosted her regen stat to heal the hound bite, when she'd been shaking and convinced she was going to die before they made it to the camp. He'd figured she'd lost it when they'd run from Theron's hunt squad, or left it in the cave when they'd escaped."I kept it," she said, turning it over in her fingers. Her voice was softer now, no teasing edge left. "I don't lose things that matter." She tucked it into the inner pocket of her worn leather jacket, right over her heart, the fabric stretching a little over the small sprig. He could see the faint outline of it through the thin leather, and something tight in his chest loosened, the kind of soft, warm feeling he'd only ever gotten once before, back in Brooklyn when his mom had baked him a birthday cake the year he'd gotten into college, even though she'd been working three jobs and had barely had time to sleep.
Before Kael could answer, the tent flap flew open. Rian, the sixteen-year-old male junior scout who'd helped take down the last Covenant soldier earlier, leaned in, holding two more pieces of the crumbly, sweet treat in his hands. He winked so hard his whole face scrunched up, his short braided mohawk bouncing as he leaned in."Healer Marnie sent these," he said, holding them out. Her grin was mischievous, the kind that told Kael she'd definitely been lingering outside the tent listening. "Said you two burned a lot of energy running from the Covenant, need the sugar. Also, Jessa's almost done yelling at the supply master, so don't do anything she'd yell at you for. We've got a rule against public displays of affection in the supply tents. Mara still hasn't lived down the time she made out with a trader in the arrow crate stack." The cake was dotted with crushed walnuts, Lila's signature addition—she spent three hours every weekend collecting walnuts from the scrub oaks on the edge of the Wastes, hoarding them for special occasions. Kael had eaten three pieces of her walnut honey cake the first night he'd arrived at camp, so many that Elara had to cut him off before he made himself sick, complaining that the sugar rush would make him too jittery to fight if the Covenant showed up in the middle of the night. He'd also heard the Mara story a dozen times already, told around every bonfire: the trader had been carrying a crate of volatile fire dust, they'd knocked it over during the makeout, half the supply tent had caught fire, and Jessa had made both of them dig latrines for a week as punishment.
She set the honey cake down on the crate next to Kael before he could retort, and bolted before Elara could throw a loose arrowhead at her head. The flap flapped closed behind her, and Kael snickered, picking up one of the pieces of cake. The honey was wildflower, sweet and earthy, nothing like the processed grocery store stuff he'd eaten back in Brooklyn."Remind me to hide her next batch of honey cake if she keeps interrupting us," he said, taking a bite. The crumbs stuck to his lip, and Elara reached up without thinking, brushing them off with her thumb. Her finger lingered on his mouth for a second before she pulled her hand away, her cheeks turning a faint pink.She sat down next to him on the crate, their shoulders pressed together, and picked up her own piece of cake. They ate in silence for a minute, the only sounds the wind rustling the canvas and the distant clink of pots from the cookfire. Kael could feel the heat of her arm through his jacket, and the faint mint scent from the sprig in her pocket drifted over every time she shifted."Mia used to make honey cake just like this," Elara said quietly, breaking the silence. She stared down at the half-eaten piece in her hand, her expression soft. "We'd hide out in the cave systems north of here when the Covenant patrols came through, and she'd trade rabbit pelts to the wandering traders for honey just to make it. She was terrible at baking, always burned the edges, but it was the best thing I'd ever tasted." She twisted her wrist a little, and Kael caught a glimpse of the tiny wooden rabbit carving tied to her belt loop, the edges worn smooth from years of being held. It was Mia's, she'd told him once, carved for her by their dad before the Covenant burned their village down. Mia had carried it everywhere, even when she'd climbed a 30-foot pine tree to try to grab a hawk chick when she was 10, had fallen 10 feet into a bush of stinging nettles and hadn't stopped talking about the chick the whole three miles Elara carried her home, even as her face swelled up bright red from the stings.
Kael set his cake down, turning to look at her. He'd heard bits and pieces about Mia, Elara's younger sister who'd died when Covenant soldiers burned their village when she was twelve, but she rarely talked about her at length. "I wish I could have met her," he said.Elara laughed, a soft, wobbly sound. "She would have teased you nonstop about your weird accent. Told you you talked like a drunk merchant from the northern ice ports. She loved messing with strangers." She paused, picking at the edge of the cake in her hand. "She would have liked you, though. She always said the best people are the ones who don't take the Covenant's garbage lying down."Kael's throat felt tight. He'd spent the last three days running, fighting, lying to patrols, keeping his powers secret, and he'd barely had time to process that he was actually in another world, that he was actually fighting a tyrant who hoarded power to keep people like Elara and Mia down. But sitting there next to her, the smell of honey and mint in the air, he didn't regret it. Not for a second. A woodpecker tapped slow, steady beats on a dead pine tree outside the tent, the same sound he'd heard the first morning he'd woken up in the Wastes, disoriented, bleeding, convinced he was in some kind of weird afterlife full of shadow hounds and girls with daggers and 400-year-old priests who stole blessing shards to extend their lifespan. His ankle throbbed a little under the daisy-patterned bandage, but he barely noticed, too focused on the way the sun filtering through the canvas slits painted gold streaks across Elara's dark hair, the faint scar on her jaw she'd gotten when she'd fought a Covenant knight when she was 15, the way she twisted the wooden rabbit charm when she was nervous.
He took a breath, pushing down the nervous flutter in his chest. He knew the timing was terrible. They had a council meeting in five minutes, Theron had sent hit squads after them, the Wastes were crawling with Covenant soldiers, and they still hadn't figured out how to tell the Wildwalker council about Theron's plans without revealing Kael's powers. But he didn't want to wait. He'd almost lost her twice in the last three days, once to hound venom and once to a crossbow bolt, and he wasn't going to let another minute pass without saying what he'd been thinking since he'd woken up in the cave next to her, her head resting on his shoulder."I know this is the worst possible timing," he said, turning to face her fully. Their knees brushed, and he could see the faint flecks of gold in her brown eyes when she looked up at him. "We have a council full of people waiting to yell at us for bringing Covenant trouble to their camp, Theron's forces are probably hunting us as we speak, and I still don't know how to use that stupid dagger I stole from the knight. But I don't want to wait to say this. I care about you. More than just a partner, more than just someone I'm fighting alongside. I don't know how any of this works here, or if we're even going to live long enough to take down Theron, but I want to figure it out with you."Elara stared at him for a second, then laughed, soft and warm, and swatted his arm lightly. "You're right, that's terrible timing. I was gonna wait until after we burned Theron's temple to the ground to say anything, but since you decided to be all sappy now…" She paused, leaning in a little, her voice so soft he almost couldn't hear it over the wind. "I care about you too. A lot more than I thought I would when I pulled you out of that hound pack three days ago, covered in blood and complaining about your ankle."She leaned in the rest of the way, kissing him quick, soft, the taste of honey and mint on her lips. It was over before he could even process it, and when she pulled back, her cheeks were pink, and she was grinning that half-smile he loved so much. He could taste the faint bitter tang of pine gum on her lips too, the stuff she chewed when she was on patrol to stay awake. She'd shared a piece with him once, and it had been so bitter he'd spit it out immediately, and she'd laughed so hard she'd snort, a sound she'd tried to deny making for an hour afterwards, even when he'd mimicked it to make her mad.
"For the record," she said, picking up her half-eaten cake again, "if you tell Lila we kissed in the supply tent, I will leave you to explain your weird accent and the dagger you stole from Theron's knight to the council all by yourself."Kael laughed, leaning in to kiss her again, this time a little longer, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. His hand was a little shaky when it brushed her skin, he'd been practicing the confession in his head the entire walk from the council tent, had messed up the line three different times in his head, scared she'd laugh it off, or say it was too dangerous, or that she only saw him as a partner. The relief that flooded him when she'd said she cared about him too was brighter than any stat buff he'd ever gotten. He was just about to tell her about the passive slot he'd unlocked, ask her which upgrade she thought he should pick, when the tent flap flew open again, hard enough that the wooden crates rattled.
Mara stood in the entrance, her face tight, no trace of her usual smirk. Her leathers were dust-covered, a new scratch running down her right cheek, and she held a crumpled scout's note in her hand."Council's ready," she said, her voice sharp. "And we just got word from our forward border scouts. Theron's forces are moving on three low-cap villages in the Eastern Wastes. They're burning them to the ground, rounding up anyone with unregistered blessing shards to harvest for his rituals. They'll be done wiping them out in 72 hours. Our timeline just got cut in half."Kael's good mood dropped like a stone. He looked at Elara, her grin gone, her hand already resting on the hilt of her dagger, her jaw tight with rage. The faint mint scent still lingered in the tent, but now it mixed with the acrid smell of distant smoke drifting over the camp, carried on the Wastes wind.
He stood, testing his weight on his bandaged ankle, the buzz of the passive slot under his skin growing louder. They didn't have time to bask in the confession. They didn't have time to sit around eating honey cake and teasing each other. Three villages full of people were going to die if they didn't move fast.
Elara stood next to him, slipping her hand into his for a quick, tight squeeze before letting go, her face set."Let's go," she said, already heading for the tent flap. "We've got work to do."Kael followed her out into the cold wind, the piece of half-eaten honey cake still sitting on the crate behind him, the mint sprig tucked over Elara's heart pressing lightly against her jacket as they walked toward the council tent.