purpose, a way to make herself useful.
“I need to be productive. I need to get better at this. All of it.”
She smiled at him, surprised that she felt like smiling at all.
“When do we start?”
Ferran glanced up at the sky, then suddenly
yawned; his toothpick started to fall out of his mouth, but he
caught it in time. “Well, I promised your mother I would fish with
her tomorrow. We’re heading into catfish territory, and I’ve heard
that some catfish in the Little Rain grow seven feet in length and
weigh over 200 pounds….” He stopped, perhaps realizing his
digression. “The day after. Evening is the best time. I’ll meet
with you on the Dawn Seeker .”
Sora nodded eagerly.
“Feeling better?” Ferran asked, sticking his
toothpick back in his mouth.
“Much better,” she sighed. “I’m ready to go
back to the ship.” She couldn’t wait to get out of this forest,
with its blighted trees and blackened berries.
Ferran nodded and stood up. “We’re ready!”
he called.
At first she didn’t know who he was speaking
to, and then Crash appeared between the trees. She stared at him
for a moment, tall and dark against the late afternoon light. Had
he heard their entire conversation? Of course , she
thought.
She expected him to ignore her as he had
been doing, but his eyes skimmed over her before he motioned to
Ferran to take the lead. The treasure hunter strolled into the
forest at a leisurely pace, backtracking through the woods as he
followed a visible trail of trampled brush and broken twigs.
Meanwhile, Crash fell into step beside Sora.
She glanced sideways at him, staring at the sharp line of his jaw,
his tousled black hair. He seemed distracted, his thoughts as
distant as his gaze. She was suddenly reminded of his short battle
with the villagers, how the shadows had surrounded him in a dense
cloak, how he had manipulated the darkness like it was an extension
of his body. She hadn’t thought he could wield magic. But of
course he can , she winced. He’s one of the Sixth Race .
What kind of magic did the Sixth Race use? The question was on the
tip of her tongue, begging to be asked. But that also scared her.
He had a demon inside him—did she truly want to know more?
“Have you seen Caprion?” she asked instead.
“He didn’t follow us back from the village.”
Crash shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “He
flew off over the woods. Maybe he found something of interest.”
Sora could tell he was lying. He’s hiding
something, she thought. Her brow darkened. “Maybe he’s in
trouble,” she said. “It’s not like him to vanish on his own.”
“Then maybe he went back to the ship,” Crash
said shortly. He changed the subject. “Your hand is bleeding; you
should have Lori look at it when we return.”
Sora stared at him. If he meant to distract
her, it worked. His words annoyed her, though. Weeks of silence;
why now a sudden show of concern?
“I’ve had worse injuries,” she glared.
“Wounds can fester.”
“So can feelings.”
Crash gave her a searching glance, then
slowly raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you festering?” he asked
pointedly.
She frowned. “That’s not what I meant,” she
muttered. In fact, Sora wasn’t quite sure what she meant. For weeks
he had kept his distance; it seemed unfair for him to suddenly
swoop in and care about her again. Or pretend to care. She just
wanted him to explain himself.
“I miss it, I guess,” she finally relented.
“I thought we had…something different between us, I don’t know.” Well done.
Crash let out a slow, thoughtful breath.
They walked in silence for a minute more. Then he said, “This is
really my fault.”
Sora waited for further explanation, then
she winced. “Don’t act like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I
kissed back.”
Crash hesitated. “I recall that.”
“I didn’t mind it at all.”
“I see.”
“In fact, I enjoyed it.” There . “Not
that you asked. Or cared to ask.” She tried not
“I need to be productive. I need to get better at this. All of it.”
She smiled at him, surprised that she felt like smiling at all.
“When do we start?”
Ferran glanced up at the sky, then suddenly
yawned; his toothpick started to fall out of his mouth, but he
caught it in time. “Well, I promised your mother I would fish with
her tomorrow. We’re heading into catfish territory, and I’ve heard
that some catfish in the Little Rain grow seven feet in length and
weigh over 200 pounds….” He stopped, perhaps realizing his
digression. “The day after. Evening is the best time. I’ll meet
with you on the Dawn Seeker .”
Sora nodded eagerly.
“Feeling better?” Ferran asked, sticking his
toothpick back in his mouth.
“Much better,” she sighed. “I’m ready to go
back to the ship.” She couldn’t wait to get out of this forest,
with its blighted trees and blackened berries.
Ferran nodded and stood up. “We’re ready!”
he called.
At first she didn’t know who he was speaking
to, and then Crash appeared between the trees. She stared at him
for a moment, tall and dark against the late afternoon light. Had
he heard their entire conversation? Of course , she
thought.
She expected him to ignore her as he had
been doing, but his eyes skimmed over her before he motioned to
Ferran to take the lead. The treasure hunter strolled into the
forest at a leisurely pace, backtracking through the woods as he
followed a visible trail of trampled brush and broken twigs.
Meanwhile, Crash fell into step beside Sora.
She glanced sideways at him, staring at the sharp line of his jaw,
his tousled black hair. He seemed distracted, his thoughts as
distant as his gaze. She was suddenly reminded of his short battle
with the villagers, how the shadows had surrounded him in a dense
cloak, how he had manipulated the darkness like it was an extension
of his body. She hadn’t thought he could wield magic. But of
course he can , she winced. He’s one of the Sixth Race .
What kind of magic did the Sixth Race use? The question was on the
tip of her tongue, begging to be asked. But that also scared her.
He had a demon inside him—did she truly want to know more?
“Have you seen Caprion?” she asked instead.
“He didn’t follow us back from the village.”
Crash shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “He
flew off over the woods. Maybe he found something of interest.”
Sora could tell he was lying. He’s hiding
something, she thought. Her brow darkened. “Maybe he’s in
trouble,” she said. “It’s not like him to vanish on his own.”
“Then maybe he went back to the ship,” Crash
said shortly. He changed the subject. “Your hand is bleeding; you
should have Lori look at it when we return.”
Sora stared at him. If he meant to distract
her, it worked. His words annoyed her, though. Weeks of silence;
why now a sudden show of concern?
“I’ve had worse injuries,” she glared.
“Wounds can fester.”
“So can feelings.”
Crash gave her a searching glance, then
slowly raised a dark eyebrow. “Are you festering?” he asked
pointedly.
She frowned. “That’s not what I meant,” she
muttered. In fact, Sora wasn’t quite sure what she meant. For weeks
he had kept his distance; it seemed unfair for him to suddenly
swoop in and care about her again. Or pretend to care. She just
wanted him to explain himself.
“I miss it, I guess,” she finally relented.
“I thought we had…something different between us, I don’t know.” Well done.
Crash let out a slow, thoughtful breath.
They walked in silence for a minute more. Then he said, “This is
really my fault.”
Sora waited for further explanation, then
she winced. “Don’t act like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I
kissed back.”
Crash hesitated. “I recall that.”
“I didn’t mind it at all.”
“I see.”
“In fact, I enjoyed it.” There . “Not
that you asked. Or cared to ask.” She tried not
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