Ki Book One by Odette C. Bell Page B

stiffly, “we
could get halfway through only to find our path
blocked.”
    She pointed down at the gun by his
feet . “They don’t run
out of bullets easily. They have several charge settings. If we’re
careful, we could use it to blast through rock.”
    “ I...” he wanted to tell her that would be
too dangerous, but he found himself stopping. In conjunction with
the scanner, that gun could cut them a path if it had to. The
scanner would have a limited range down there, but a few meters or
so would be enough to tell them whether a path opened out beyond a
section of rock wall.
    Turning from her, clamping his hand on his
stubble-covered chin, he tried to think this through.
    “ Jackson, it sounds like our only hope.”
Her voice wavered on the word hope.
    Looking up, he cast his gaze through the
pine trees above and beyond to the sun. It was still shining
bright, but through the dense canopy he swore he could see dark
clouds gathering at the edges of the ranges.
    Even in autumn those peaks could attract a
fell snow storm.
    Could they really risk going up there? If
they got beyond the pass, that was. It had been hard dealing with
the wolves last night, without a cabin wall to hide behind, it
could be impossible in the open.
    He nodded hesitantly. “Okay. We’ll give it
a try.”
    She dipped her head and brought her hands
together . “Great. Then
let’s get going.” Turning, she limped forward. Though he’d made her
those ramshackle shoes, no doubt they aggravated her already
swollen and cut feet.
    Again a pang of guilt sailed through him for
what he’d done to her. It would, no doubt, take a long time to make
up for it.
    He was up for the challenge.
    As soon as he realized that, one single
thought resurfaced.
    She’s Tarkan.
    Despite the promises he’d made to her, and
to himself, he felt the old stab of rage at what they’d done to him
and his people. That keen hatred resurfaced like a whale from the
ocean.
    He did not act on it this time.
    He pushed his hands into fists, letting the
nails dig freely and deeply into his palms. The pain cut through
the rage.
    He knew enough about psychology to realize
that he could not change his beliefs overnight. Any attempt to
alter something so fundamental about oneself took time. He had
spent his whole life hating her people; he couldn’t click his
fingers and reverse that. Neither did he want to. Yet he promised
himself he would try not to take it out on her.
    For now, that was all he could do.
    He hooked the gun over his shoulder, firmed
up his grip on the scanner, and nodded at her to start moving. As
he walked past, he caught her looking at him curiously. Her neck
was lengthened, her head cocked to the side, her eyes filled with
interest.
    “ What are you looking at?” he cleared his
throat cautiously.
    “ Nothing.”
    “ Come on, you were staring at me like I had
a sign painted on my head.”
    “ Priestesses are meant to be skilled at
empathy,” she began.
    He snorted.
    Her once light and curious expression soured
and she turned away.
    “ Sorry. Sorry, ah... continue.”
    She flashed him a warning
glance . “We are skilled
in emotional reading and techniques. I was simply noticing the
confusion playing across your features.”
    He rolled his teeth sharply over his bottom
lip. He’d always hated feeling exposed.
    “ I apologize, I shouldn’t have said
anything. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.” She tried to walk
ahead, though her labored hobble could not take her far.
    “ And what else do you priestesses do?” he
tried to quickly change the conversation.
    “ Meditation, prayer, looking after the
monastery,” she smoothed her hand down her middle, a far-off smile
spreading her lips.
    She had a very distant quality about her in
that moment.
    “ You mean you stay holed up in the hills
away from the distractions of a modern life?” he asked, faltering
as he realized his question sounded far worse than he’d
meant.
    “ Not at all. The priestess clan