He puts his hand to Mercy’s face and drags his thumb down her cheek. There are so many things he’d like to tell her right now, but the words aren’t coming. He has to hope she knows him well enough to realize how much he cares.
“Thanks, Hawk.”
She takes Siena’s outstretched hand and they disappear into the trees.
Hawk glances at Gust and Nikita, still busy with the well, and returns to his task, grateful for a moment alone. His anger at Luca floods back as he imagines what he might be getting up to right now. Walking along a deserted beach? Climbing a tree and resting in the crook of a branch? Running through what remains of the forest? All things that Hawk wouldn’t mind doing right now but isn’t. Because there’s work to be done. People are counting on them. That’s what being a Seeker is about. Luca may not be a true Seeker, but he still has a responsibility to do the right thing.
Finishing the row, he goes to the small pile of supplies they’d brought to the clearing and picks up the next small jar, certain these are pumpkin seeds.
His stomach growls. This soil had better be as fertile as it looks! He can’t live on three bites of roasted meat for long. Corbin and his men must be eating something more substantial, looking at the size of them. He just needs to figure out what.
As he crouches down, ready to start on this next row of seeds, he notices Grace approaching. Her long hair is down today, draping over one side of her face and she’s moving slowly with the hint of a limp.
“Grace.” He stands and wipes his dirt stained hands on his pants.
“Hawk.” She smiles shyly at him through her hair, her face partially turned away. But not enough that he can’t see what she’s trying to hide. The right side of her face is badly bruised, reminding him of his grandmother, Avis, although Grace’s injuries are a dark storm of colors rather than Avis’s puckered burns.
He doesn’t ask Grace about her face though. If she wanted to talk about it, she wouldn’t be trying so hard to cover it. Besides, he’s got a pretty good idea of exactly how the bruises happened.
And who was the one to give them to her.
Thoughts of his mother come racing to him with force, his longing for her punching him in the gut. She always said the world needs more good men like him. It’s only now that he’s outside the safety of Askala that he’s starting to see what she means. In the short time his mom had spent in the Outlands, she must’ve seen some terrible things.
“Do you like the new garden?” he asks, giving Grace some time to get to the point of whatever she came here to talk to him about.
“It’s wonderful,” she gushes. “We’re all so very grateful.”
Hawk smiles. He hadn’t gotten that impression at all from the suspicious glances he’s been getting from the Newlanders.
“I brought you something.” Grace holds out her hand, turning her back to where Gust and Siena are digging the well so they can’t see. “You must be hungry.”
It’s a piece of flatbread and Hawk’s heart tears in half to look at it.
“I can’t,” he says. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Fair?” she asks, still holding out her hand. “You’ve done most of the work here from what I’ve seen. And you’re twice the size of the others. You need it more than them. Just eat it. Quickly.”
“I…” Hawk’s mouth fills with saliva and his hands start to shake. He really is very hungry.
“Take it, Hawk. Please? It would be rude of you to refuse me.” Grace smiles at him and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s taken the bread and demolished it in two bites.
The effect is instant. Despite the fact he could eat twenty more of those portions, he feels better than he has all day.
“Thank you.” He goes to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand but stops when he sees how filthy he is. He’s going to need a dip in the ocean later, unless they can spare enough water from the well.
“You look like your grandfather,” says Grace, staring at him. “The real life version, not just the statue.”
“Did you know him?” Hawk asks. “He died before I was born. You couldn’t have been all that old yourself.”
She nods. “I saw him once when I was a young girl. But he was the kind of person you never forget. He had a presence. Like you do.”
Hawk squats down and opens the jar of seeds, wanting to distract from the fire that’s burning his cheeks. He has a presence?
“How did he die?” Grace asks. “I’ve heard so many rumors about it.”
Hawk concentrates on the seeds as he decides how to answer this.
“There was a fire,” he eventually says. “A lot of people died in it.”
“And what became of his men?” She readjusts her hair to ensure it’s covering her cheek. “Did they die in the fire, too?”
“Some did.” Hawk moves down the row of soil to continue the planting. “The rest joined Askala after the battle to live in peace.”
Grace shakes her head. “You must have some serious weapons over there to have won a battle like that.”
Hawk pauses. Why does it feel like this was the exact question she came over here to ask? What is Corbin up to, sending Grace to do his dirty work?
“Tell Corbin Askala is full of weapons.” Hawk stands to make sure she gets the message, even if it’s a lie. “Tell him if he sets one foot there, he’ll meet the same fate as the Commander before him.”
“I…I didn’t…” Grace’s hand flutters to her face. “He didn’t…I was just curious.”
Hawk reaches out and gently lifts her hair from her face. “You can’t let him hurt you like this, Grace.”
Tears fall from her dark eyes and trail down her cheeks, her fear unmistakable. “He didn’t hurt me. I tripped in the dark. It was nothing.”
“The next time he raises a hand to you, I want you to come and find me.” Hawk’s protective instinct is a fireball of rage inside him now. He has to do something to help this poor woman! “I’ll take you to Askala myself if I have to.”
“I need to keep Charity safe,” she whispers. “If I join her, he’ll know. I must stay here.”
Hawk lets his hand fall as he returns to his seeds. It won’t do Grace any good if Corbin sees him talking with her like this. He wants to help her, but he has to be smart about it if he’s going to be of any genuine assistance.
Blinking in surprise, he pauses his work when a large raven lands in front of him.
His hand flies to his pendant. Surely, not a message from his father already? The bird had better not be after any of these seeds he’s just planted.
But before he can check if the raven’s holding a note, Grace gets to it with surprising speed and unties something from its leg.
“I’m pretty sure that’s for me,” says Hawk, standing up and putting out his hand.
“You don’t know that,” says Grace. “It could be for anyone here. We get ravens from the Outlands when they’re sending supplies.”
The bird takes off into the sky, leaving them to sort out the dilemma it just delivered.
“Oh.” Hawk withdraws his hand, not wanting a fight. “Shall we look at it together then?”