Read Online Mine to Tarnish by Janeal Falor - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Janeal Falor
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be seen. The wind whips against my skin, water sprinkling against it. A few more minutes pass, and I can feel the cracking dryness of my throat.
“Ow.” Though it hurts, I’ve never been so glad to hear my own voice.
“ You can talk.” Charles stops his frantic paddling.
“ For now. Is my back still glowing?”
“ I can’t see the tracking spell, but we’d have to untie you to know for sure,” he replies. “Can you wait a little longer for that? Just to be certain something else isn’t going to happen.”
“ If it keeps that hex from ever happening again, I’d stay tied to this bench for a week.”
“ Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
Despite my words, I hope it doesn’t either.
“How’s your wrist?”
“ Hurts.”
“ I’ll fix it when we’re a safer distance away.”
“ Did you see any of them?”
He nods. “One was the law officer who stopped you. The other was an old man.”
“Nigel.”
“ Your owner?”
I close my eyes tight, the memory of him more painful than my wrist. “Yes.”
We continue down the river for some time. Thankfully, the sun is covered by clouds. My legs and arms are going numb again. Not numb like before, more like pins and needles. Still an uncomfortable feeling. I shift as much as I can. With the ropes slack, I have some freedom, though it’s not as much as I wish. It's at least enough to send relief bolting through me. For now, we are out of range of hexes and spells.
Finally Charles puts the paddle down and says, “Let’s have a look. I think we may have outdistanced their magic enough.”
He spends a few minutes undoing the knot securing the rope around the bench and me.
“ You tie a good knot.”
He gives a half smile. “Too good.”
Another minute passes, and the knot loosens. Charles untangles me from the ropes. When I first sit up, a batch of dizziness hits me but quickly passes. I stretch my sore arms into the air, wrist throbbing. “I hope we don’t ever have to do that again.”
“ You and me both.”
I catch his gaze, gratitude and something warmer coursing through me. “You saved me.”
His gaze moves to my mouth and lingers, just long enough for a strange sensation that makes me want to lean closer. So I do, immediately pulling back with a hiss of pain from putting weight on my wrist.
“ Let me fix that for you.” He tears off the bottom of his shirt and wraps it around my wrist and hand in a sort of x pattern. “Try to keep it up in the air.”
“ Thank you.”
While I hold my throbbing wrist in the air, he grabs the rope and coils it. Once the rope is put away, but within reach, he motions for me to turn around. Waves splash higher against the side of the boat, some leaks in through the hole. The wind picks up, gusting through my hair. The waves grow harsher, rocking the boat beneath me.
“The tracking spell is still there, but faint. As long as they don’t find a boat to follow us down stream we should be able to get far enough away to break it.”
I can’t bring myself to ask if he thinks they are following us. I fear I already know the answer. “Is the raft going to last that long?”
“The boat is sturdier than any spell,” he corrects, giving the side a good slap.
“ Someone is protective about a few sticks of wood.”
“ These few sticks just saved your life.”
Again. I hope it’s the last time. I turn my head so he can’t see my face. I’m not sure what it looks like, but if feels as if it may be revealing too much about these emotions I don’t understand. “I am grateful for that.”
The current picks up, rocking the rowboat harder and turning his focus back on the river. The tension in his eyes has me asking, “Do we need to go ashore?”
He doesn’t even look at me as we jostle down the stream. “Perhaps, but our need to put more distance between us is greater.”
The river grows rougher, water sneaking in through one of the holes, enough that it’s pooling around my feet. “Is
“Ow.” Though it hurts, I’ve never been so glad to hear my own voice.
“ You can talk.” Charles stops his frantic paddling.
“ For now. Is my back still glowing?”
“ I can’t see the tracking spell, but we’d have to untie you to know for sure,” he replies. “Can you wait a little longer for that? Just to be certain something else isn’t going to happen.”
“ If it keeps that hex from ever happening again, I’d stay tied to this bench for a week.”
“ Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.”
Despite my words, I hope it doesn’t either.
“How’s your wrist?”
“ Hurts.”
“ I’ll fix it when we’re a safer distance away.”
“ Did you see any of them?”
He nods. “One was the law officer who stopped you. The other was an old man.”
“Nigel.”
“ Your owner?”
I close my eyes tight, the memory of him more painful than my wrist. “Yes.”
We continue down the river for some time. Thankfully, the sun is covered by clouds. My legs and arms are going numb again. Not numb like before, more like pins and needles. Still an uncomfortable feeling. I shift as much as I can. With the ropes slack, I have some freedom, though it’s not as much as I wish. It's at least enough to send relief bolting through me. For now, we are out of range of hexes and spells.
Finally Charles puts the paddle down and says, “Let’s have a look. I think we may have outdistanced their magic enough.”
He spends a few minutes undoing the knot securing the rope around the bench and me.
“ You tie a good knot.”
He gives a half smile. “Too good.”
Another minute passes, and the knot loosens. Charles untangles me from the ropes. When I first sit up, a batch of dizziness hits me but quickly passes. I stretch my sore arms into the air, wrist throbbing. “I hope we don’t ever have to do that again.”
“ You and me both.”
I catch his gaze, gratitude and something warmer coursing through me. “You saved me.”
His gaze moves to my mouth and lingers, just long enough for a strange sensation that makes me want to lean closer. So I do, immediately pulling back with a hiss of pain from putting weight on my wrist.
“ Let me fix that for you.” He tears off the bottom of his shirt and wraps it around my wrist and hand in a sort of x pattern. “Try to keep it up in the air.”
“ Thank you.”
While I hold my throbbing wrist in the air, he grabs the rope and coils it. Once the rope is put away, but within reach, he motions for me to turn around. Waves splash higher against the side of the boat, some leaks in through the hole. The wind picks up, gusting through my hair. The waves grow harsher, rocking the boat beneath me.
“The tracking spell is still there, but faint. As long as they don’t find a boat to follow us down stream we should be able to get far enough away to break it.”
I can’t bring myself to ask if he thinks they are following us. I fear I already know the answer. “Is the raft going to last that long?”
“The boat is sturdier than any spell,” he corrects, giving the side a good slap.
“ Someone is protective about a few sticks of wood.”
“ These few sticks just saved your life.”
Again. I hope it’s the last time. I turn my head so he can’t see my face. I’m not sure what it looks like, but if feels as if it may be revealing too much about these emotions I don’t understand. “I am grateful for that.”
The current picks up, rocking the rowboat harder and turning his focus back on the river. The tension in his eyes has me asking, “Do we need to go ashore?”
He doesn’t even look at me as we jostle down the stream. “Perhaps, but our need to put more distance between us is greater.”
The river grows rougher, water sneaking in through one of the holes, enough that it’s pooling around my feet. “Is
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