Page 61 of Warrior of the Wild
Soren doesn’t respond.
“Honor is going to get the both of you killed. You two are quite the pair.”
“We’re not a pair. Not yet.”
“Shut up so I can get some sleep.”
THE SUN WAKES ME.I’ve gotten used to my fort in the woods, the trees blocking out most of the light. But the window in the tree house faces east.
The boys are still out cold, so I pull down the blanket covering me to inspect my injury. I think the bruise has gotten lighter and the raised skin is not so pronounced, but perhaps that is only wishful thinking. Either way, at least the wound doesn’t look worse. My skin is pale, but it was like that yesterday.
I try sitting up and promptly fall back onto the mattress.
I won’t be rising on my own today, that’s for sure.
My eyes take in the sights outside the window, as I attempt to entertain myself while waiting for the boys to wake. Fat lizards rest against high-up tree branches. They’re hard to spot as their bodies blend into whatever they’re standing in front of. I watch them lie in wait for birds to land close enough. Then their tongues dart out, quick as lightning, snatching up their food. Minutes later, they’ll spit out a mouthful of wet feathers.
It’s both oddly fascinating and disgusting.
They’re like miniature versions of the gunda.
I shudder, grateful the world is rid of that hideous beast, at least.
There’s a break in Soren’s even breaths, and his eyelids flutter before opening all the way. His first move upon waking is to swivel his neck in my direction.
Does he fear I expired in my sleep?
I’ve never seen someone so worried about my health aside from Irrenia. It’s… nice.
“Soren,” I say, careful not to wake Iric, “what is your mattugr? I never did get a chance to ask you.”
He throws an arm over his eyes to block out the light. “Starting with the easy questions this morning, I see.” He sits up in bed and stretches his arms over his head. “In Restin, our mattugrs are given to us based on our greatest fears. Iric fears water and never learned to swim, so they demanded he retrieve the hyggja’s head and bring it back to the village.”
“And you? What do you fear?”
“Have you heard of the beast that lives at the top of the god’s mountain?”
“No.”
“We have a legend in my village about the otti. A bird with a wingspan the length of five men, a razor-sharp beak, and talons that can slice through the thickest armor.”
“You have to kill it?” I ask.
“No, I have to pluck a feather from its skin. But as I said, this is only a legend. The bird could not even exist, which would make it a truly impossible task.”
“What does this have to do with what you fear?” Does Soren have a problem with birds?
“When I was a child, I was afraid of heights. It went away as I grew older, but I don’t think the village elders knew that.”
“If you’ve overcome your fear, then why haven’t you tried to seek out the otti?”
“Because it doesn’t matter if it exists. So long as Iric remains in the wild, so will I. I’m not going home or risking my life when he needs me.”
Soren isn’t the one who will need convincing to complete our quests, then. It’s Iric.
“Would you two kindly take your conversation outside?” Iric mumbles against the blankets. “Some of us have work to do today and would like to get some more rest first!”
Soren dons a shirt and boots before helping me up. He even helps me down the tree single-handedly.
