By Darkness Hid by Jill Williamson

daft.”
Vrell was thankful for the black void that hid her flushing cheeks. This was why it was best for her not to speak.
Jax rounded on Vrell and thrust the torch into her hands. “Hold this.”
She pulled her neck back to keep her hair free of the flame and lifted the torch high away from her skittish horse.
    Jax unfastened his pack from his horse and dropped it into the grass. He removed some rope from it and tossed it to Khai. “Tether and water the horses. Vrell, help him.”
    Khai gathered his and Jax’s horses and stomped away, the parched grass swishing under their steps. The tip of his massive sword’s scabbard dragged behind him.
    Vrell stayed put, unsure of what to do with the torch. “Do you need the light, sir?”
    Jax looked up and held out his large hand. Vrell passed him the heavy torch, and he drove it into the ground so it stood on its own. He got on his knees to go through his gear. In this position he was almost her height.
    Vrell turned and blinked. The torch cast enough light that she could see where Khai had taken the horses. Bushes lit up like misty shadows. She led Nickel to the others. Khai had already stripped off their saddles and set out a bucket of water for each, including her own.
    This surprised Vrell. “Thank you for pouring a bucket for my horse.”
    Khai grunted. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it to conserve water. If I see your skinny fingers on the water pack, I’ll break them. Understood?”
    Vrell’s eyes widened, but she held her tongue. She turned away from Khai and tied Nickel to a chaparral bush. She took care of his gear, then returned to the torchlight. Khai and Jax busied themselves in their packs. If ever there was a time to steal a moment alone in the dark, this was it.
    “I am going to…” She pointed away into the darkness. “I need to…”
    “Fine.” Jax dug in his gear for something. “Don’t go far.”
    Vrell inched away, looking over her shoulder with each step to verify both men remained at the camp and that she could still see the torch. She walked straight ahead, arms stretched out in front to feel for anything. She did not want to stumble into any cactus.
    When the camp had shrunk to a small glow, and Vrell was confident she would not be seen, she crouched over the dead grass. For the first time in her life, she relieved herself outdoors. When she finished, she used water from her water skin to wash her face and hands. The road had been so dusty her nostrils were stiff and crusty. She did not have a handkerchief.
    She did have a salve to protect her skin from sunburn, though. She had made it herself with chaparral from Mitt’s garden. How strange it had been to see so much of the desert bush in its natural state during her ride earlier. She rubbed the salve generously over her face. The cool mixture tingled the heat from her skin. She thought of Bran and smiled. He had such a fair complexion. She had often tried to convince him to use one of her salves, but he never had.
    Vrell returned to the torch and found Jax and Khai eating. She settled down on the ground to Jax’ left, putting the fire between her and Khai. Jax passed her a hard bread roll, some dried figs, and a chunk of dried meat.
“Thank you, sir.”
Vrell bowed in silent thanks for the meal, then bit into the bread.
Khai was watching her, his brows heavy over dark eyes. “What’d you do? Bewitch it to taste like tarts?”
Vrell lowered her hands into her lap and swallowed the bite of bread before answering. “I always thank Arman for my food.”
    Khai bit into his roll. He tore off a chunk and spoke with a full mouth. “Arman? Why not Zitheos or Dendron? It’s their provisions you eat.”
Vrell huffed a sigh. “There is only one God: Arman the Father.”
“Ohhh.” Khai tipped his head back with a wide grin. “You’re one of those crazy Waywarders.”
“I am not crazy,” Vrell pointed out coldly, “and it is called the Way.”
“If your Way is true, why do so few follow