Fugitives: Chapter 17

Darkness. Sometimes pain, but most of the time I couldn't feel anything. I drifted. Sometimes, I would sense myself laying down, sometimes with people standing over me, but most of the time it was darkness.

   

    I blinked awake. Sunlight streemed in through the window and fell on top of my bed. Blankets were piled high on top of me. I was in a small, clean, white room. My first thought was that I was back in the cabin with Jineya, but it wasn't a cabin.

    I struggled to sit up, and as I did so, there was a huge pain in my ribs. I fell back, gasping. Where was I? Somehow, the little room looked familiar.

    I don't know how much time passed, but some time later the door opened, and Granny Jasie and Asher walked in. I instantly knew why the room looked so familiar. It was the room where Naya had given birth to Torin.

    Asher's face flooded with relief when he saw that I was awake. Granny Jasie smiled. “Ah, yes, Kya. If that knife had gone any deeper, than I wouldn't have been able to save you.” She sniffed. “He could have at least cleaned it before he stabbed you.”

    “How long was I out?” I asked, my voice coming out feeble.

    Asher stood by my bed and took my hand, almost unconsciously. I certainly noticed, but it felt nice as his fingers traced little designs on my hand. “About three days,” he said.

    “What happened to Drake?”

    His eyes went black. “Drake is no more,” he said quietly, and his hand clenched mine.

    I stiffened. “Wait! What about Esryn?”

    Asher grimaced. “It was a risk I had to take. We only knew some basic healing. We couldn't do this, so it was either take you to Granny Jasie or die.”

    “What's Esryn's current location?” I asked. There. Some of my Rebellion training comes through.

    “The right path, on toward Fierwells, on the forked road,” he said.

    I relaxed. “Oh. Good.”

    We were quiet as Granny redressed my wound (Asher turned his back), and instructed me to get some rest. She left, and Asher shifted uncomfortably.

    “Whatever's on your mind, you might as well say it,” I told him.

    A hint of a smile appeared on his face. “I don't know how to say this... Okay, here goes. I'm in love with you.” He grimaced. “That was subtle.” He hesitated. “I'm in love with you, from the first moment I saw you, and it has grown since I have gotten to know you.” He hesitated again. “I want you to tell me how you feel about me. If you don't feel the same about me, then tell me.”

    A warm feeling rose inside me. “Asher,” I said clearly, “I love you.” I swallowed, feeling the word on my tongue. “I love you,” I said, more softly this time.

    Love filled his face, as well as a tenderness. He leaned down slowly, then kissed me on the mouth. The moment was so perfect, one that you would expect for high-born ladies, not some escaped slave girl. But at that moment, I was soaring through the clouds, in full view of the sky.