On the Meldon Plain (The Fourline Trilogy Book 2) by Pam Brondos Page B

reached the narrow ledge of the stone wall and made their way down a series of steps and walkways that spanned the exterior of the House. At the base of the steps, a single Sister guarded a wooden door that rose high above her head. She unlatched a series of locks and opened the door onto a blazing yellow meadow, and Annin, Soris, and Nat left the safety of the Healing House behind them.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    After running at a slow jog for several minutes, Nat glanced over her shoulder and took in the sprawling Healing House. From a distance, it looked like an old Western fort. She wondered why the Nala left the House alone, and why Mudug’s men hadn’t yet learned of its location.
    She stooped to pick one of the tiny yellow meldon flowers that made up the pale carpet covering the undulating meadow. The bowl shape of the small flower consisted of five delicate petals. Multiple stamens made up a fuzzy, circular interior. The flower looked familiar to Nat, as if she’d seen it in her world.
    “Nat!” Annin waved to her. She and Soris were already well in front, standing on a low rise. Nat pocketed the flower and hurried to catch up. Despite the bump to her head, gash on her leg, and shoulder wound, she felt good. Ethet’s rancid teas and poultices had served their purpose.
    “She’s slower than a turtle,” Annin said when Nat reached the pair and matched their pace.
    “No, she’s slower than that. Plenty of time to turn back and go home, Sister. Annin and I don’t need you,” Soris said with his face turned aside. He continued to jog. She glanced at his profile, then skipped ahead and got a glimpse of his face. His green eye flashed and his Nala eye looked foreign and cold.
    Her heart ached. She missed the open way he used to speak to her, the smile that never seemed far from his lips, his optimism even during the darkest moments when he’d been in excruciating pain from the porc needles Benedict had stabbed into his hand. Now, the negative emotions rolling off him left her feeling like she’d never known him.
    “You never complained about me being slow before,” she said quietly, thinking about all the times she’d purposely slowed her pace to let Soris catch up.
    He stopped. “I don’t make a habit of criticizing Sisters, so I didn’t want to make you feel bad.” His eyes flickered over her as if she weren’t worth more than a glance.
    “Really?” She tossed her satchel on the ground. “Let’s race and see who feels bad.” If she had to prove to him that she was up to the task, so be it.
    “You’re injured. I’m not racing you,” he said dismissively, but the arrogant look on his face that reminded her of his brother Andris disappeared.
    “I’m just fine. To that ring of boulders.” She gestured to a curve of rock in the distance and took off through the field. She hit her stride and glanced back. Seeing his pinched lips and narrowed eyes a few paces behind, she picked up the pace. Her fear and uncertainty served as fuel, and she sprinted ahead.
    “Stop, Natalie! Your leg’s bleeding.” He raced up from behind. His voice rang with impatience, as if he were speaking to a misbehaving child.
    She ignored him and pressed on toward the boulders. A warm, wet sensation spread down her calf. Within arm’s reach of the boulder, she caught her foot on a ragged stone and sprawled to the side, barely missing cracking her head against the rock.
    “What are you trying to prove?” he yelled as he crouched next to her.
    “Why are you so mad at me?” she yelled back, letting out her pent-up emotions. “I know I messed up! I know you must hate me for what happened to you. But I’m here to fix my mistake.”
    “So you do think I’m a mistake.”
    “No, I—”
    “Don’t, Natalie. Your dream space vision said enough. Deep down, you think I’m just like the Nala.”
    “No,” she said adamantly. “Last night, I opened up my mind to the Nala’s thoughts to find out where it was. It projected your