“Maybe you should catch your breath before trying to stand,” Shyla said.
He grunted and closed his eyes.
“My weight on your chest is probably not helping.”
Instead of releasing her, he held her tighter. His body heat warmed her and, surprisingly, she didn’t mind the strong sweaty odor of Rendor—a mix of male musk with a hint of ginger. She breathed it in. It was a nice distraction from the throbbing in her leg. The hard vibrations from Rendor’s heart eased after a few moments. He opened his eyes and relaxed his grip.
“Better?” she asked, sliding off him.
“Yes.” He sat up and stood. This time he remained standing. “Can you walk?”
She held out a hand. Rendor grabbed it and pulled her, gently, to her feet. Putting weight on her bad leg caused considerable pain but it didn’t collapse under her—a small victory. She tied her wrap around her leg to staunch the blood and tried a few steps on her own. “Yes, but not far.”
The good news—Orla’s commune was only three levels away. The bad news—they had to climb up.
Rendor supported her as she limped with slow agonizing steps. His desire to just carry her was obvious with every flex of his muscles. They finally reached the commune.
“Get Zhek,” Rendor barked at the first person they encountered. He escorted her to one of Zhek’s examination rooms and helped her onto the table. Once she was settled, he pulled away.
“Don’t go,” she said to him, grabbing his hand.
He hesitated. That hurt more than the knife wound. Yet, he had come to her rescue, almost losing his life in order to save hers.
“Guess I’ll just have to get into trouble again,” she said and released her grip. “Do you think Yates—”
“Don’t joke about that.” His harsh words rasped with fear and anger.
Exhaustion had caught up to her, making it difficult to block his emotions. “Then stay.”
“I can’t.”
His conflict was clear, though it was mixed with another deeper longing and, underneath it all, passion, maybe love. It was too complex to sort out and she wouldn’t intrude by probing his soul.
She met his gaze, remembering the argument they’d had—it seemed like circuits ago. She didn’t have the words then, but she knew what to say now. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not responding to the idiot in the common room. For worrying about what the other Invisible Swords thought about us. For not jumping into your arms when I had the chance.”
He stared at her for an eternity. “You—”
“Out of the way, you big brute,” Zhek said, pushing past Rendor.
Orla followed the healer, crowding into the small room. Zhek grabbed Shyla’s hands and tsked over her raw palms. But when he spotted the wound in her leg, he ordered everyone out. Rendor left with Orla, taking his unspoken words with him. She doubted he’d return. And while that knowledge ached deep inside her, it no longer cut as sharply into her heart. She’d said what she needed to say. Although she never thanked him for saving her life. Actually…she had when she saved his by sending Yates to sleep.
Zhek’s administrations yanked her painfully into the present. He grumbled as he washed her wounds. When he examined the gash on the back of her leg, she about jumped off the table. He rubbed a numbing paste on it and she showed considerable restraint by not snapping at him for not doing that first.
“At least the blade went in and out clean,” he said.
“Clean?”
“It wasn’t twisted while inside you. That would have caused more damage and extended the time you needed to heal.” He sighed loudly. “Not that you’ll allow it to fully heal before injuring yourself again.”
He made it sound as if she did it on purpose just to annoy him. She wisely remained quiet while he finished patching her up. He called for one of the vagrants to help her to her room. As the young man supported her through the common areas of the commune, she searched for Rendor. Shyla noted the time—angle two-ninety. But, as she had suspected, Rendor was gone. For once, it would have been nice to be wrong.
When they reached her room, she remembered her recruits and Jayden. “Do you know where Jayden is?” she asked the young man.
“I think he left to gather information.”
“Can you tell him to come to my room when he gets back?”
“Sure.” He helped her onto the cushion and left.
Shyla squirmed into a comfortable position. Pain bit into her each time she moved her leg. Soon after she settled, Zhek arrived with a cup of his special tea.
“I promise to drink this once Jayden returns,” she said.
“That might not be for a while.”
“Do you have something for the pain?”
He considered. “You promise to stay put while waiting?” He fluttered a hand toward the door. “And not go out visiting?”
“Yes.”
Zhek grunted and left. When he didn’t return, she eyed the tea. Her encounter with the guards and Yates had left her without any energy. Sleep would be best, but she needed to talk to Jayden. Before she could decide, Zhek returned with a glass of red water.
“Red?” she asked when he handed it to her.
“For the pain.”
“Thanks.” She drank it.
He jabbed a finger at the cooling tea. “Remember your promise.”
It didn’t take long for the pain to lessen and disappear. No wonder Zhek worried she’d leave. But her exhaustion caught up to her and she dozed until Jayden woke her around angle three-forty.
“What happened? Zhek said you were stabbed. By who?”
“Long story. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I need you to meet with the recruits at angle three-fifty-five and escort them to our headquarters.”
“All right, but I want a full report when I return.”
She raised the cup of Zhek’s now cold tea and saluted him.
“Cute.” He left.
After downing the liquid, she set the cup on the floor and waited for the peace of oblivion to overtake her.
When she woke, Jayden was sitting by her door. He leaned against the wall and looked exhausted. “How do you feel?”
Shyla rolled over and groaned as all her injuries flared to life. Stiff and sore, she tried to sit up but then gave in, plopping back.
“That good?” Jayden stood. “Should I get Zhek?”
“No. I’m fine.” To prove it she managed to sit up without wincing. “How long did I sleep?”
“An entire sun jump plus sixty angles.”
Angle forty already? She’d slept through her chance to leave Zirdai at angle zero.
“Have you gotten any sleep?” she asked him.
“Some.”
“The recruits?”
“All safely transferred to headquarters.” He frowned. “You could have warned me there would be so many.”
“Did all twelve show up?”
“There were sixteen.”
“Sixteen? Does that include Wazir and his three family members?”
“No, they wanted to stay here a couple more sun jumps.”
“Sixteen? Are you sure?”