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The roads were unsettlingly quiet as the army trooped along, step by heavy step. Tobin didn’t like it.
They had been traveling south for several days now, nearing the Zofia border at last. The fateful battle against Duma was well behind them now; it had been a rather dramatic success, and they had celebrated, of course, but their rest period was underwhelmingly brief. They were off on their journey to Zofia Castle much sooner than Tobin expected, and frankly, he was more than a little disappointed.
On the bright side, being a bow knight had its advantages. One of them was the horse he currently rode on, with its comparatively immeasurable stamina, and he had thanked the Mother countless times already for the fact that he didn’t have to walk. The others were not so lucky.
Beside him, the one who caught his eye was Kliff, who had both dealt and taken some ridiculous damage from Duma’s goons. The moment the Terrors disappeared, when they saw Alm with his Falchion buried in the dragon’s head, Kliff had nearly passed out, saved at the last moment by Tobin snatching his wrist and Silque mustering up the last of her energy to transfer to him. It had been days since then, but he hadn’t recovered much, fatigue evident in his every movement. Tobin had never performed magic, but he knew it took a lot from the user, and Kliff had definitely cast a lot of it. He’d never tell him, but he was worried.
“Hey, Kliff.”
“What?”
“Are you feeling alright?”
“Of course.”
“You sure? You look… tired.”
“Well, yeah. I’ve been walking all day.”
“I know, but…” That’s not it.
He looked sluggish. His heels dragged the ground with each step, arms hardly swinging their usual pattern at his sides. Tobin couldn’t see his face, but he knew he was pale, dark circles etched deeply under his eyes. Kliff was usually so meticulous about taking care of himself. Something was wrong.
Just then, Kliff tripped.
In a flash, Tobin leaned down as far as he could in his saddle and wrapped a hand around his elbow, managing to steady him before he toppled to the ground. As his initial panic subsided, it was replaced with an equal-strength concern. The terrain was smooth; the road was well-worn from both horse and foot travel, no trees nearby whose roots may have upended the dirt. Did he trip over nothing?
He opened his mouth to speak, but Kliff acted first. He stood straight and yanked his arm from Tobin’s grip, threading his other hand through his hair. He still refused to look at Tobin as he began walking again. “I’m fine.”
“You and I both know that’s not true.”
He didn’t answer.
“Didn’t I tell you it was okay to talk to me?”
A long silence stretched between them, filled by the sounds of armor from the other soldiers around them. Then Kliff reached one hand up to massage his forehead and said, almost too quietly to hear, “It’s nothing. Just haven’t slept much.”
“Oh.”
Several seconds passed before Tobin was struck by the realization that Kliff actually shared something with him. A teasing remark leapt to the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. He couldn’t let this go to waste; maybe this was the start of Kliff actually opening up to someone for once in his life.
Which, when he thought about it, was a little strange. Kliff was usually a loner, always seeming so content when no one else was around. Tobin wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Kliff actually explain himself to anyone except maybe his mother.
This was new.
So he had to react somehow. “Oh” wouldn’t cut it.
Kliff was tired, right? In that case, he just needed a nap. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be stopping until sunset, which was still a few hours away, but Tobin knew of a certain mobile animal Kliff could rest on until he found somewhere more comfortable.
“Do you want to come up here?”
“Do I – what?”
Kliff finally turned his head to face him, surprise overshadowed by the heavy exhaustion weighing down his features. That only served to strengthen Tobin’s resolve.
“You can ride up here and rest while we walk. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”
“I’m not going to take a nap laying on a saddle.” He faced forward again.
Well, there was a simple solution to that. “You can lay on me, then.”
Oh. He didn’t think that through.
Kliff stumbled again, but this time he righted himself and whipped around to face Tobin. Some color had returned to his cheeks, but it was red, which didn’t exactly seem healthy. “Are you crazy? Why would I –”
“Just a suggestion,” he said in a rush. His own face felt hot. “You said you were tired. I thought it’d be good for you to get some rest. I don’t want you to get hurt, you know. What if you fall and I’m not here to catch you?”
“It’s not like I’m going to be trampled if I fall,” he muttered, turning away.
Tobin paused, considering. “But… wouldn’t you rather not fall? You’re tired, right?”
Kliff sighed. One of his hands snaked up to brush through his hair again. “What’s the use of sleeping if I’m just going to have –”
He cut himself short, his hand balling up into a fist. Tobin’s heart clenched, the unspoken word resonating in his veins. Knowing Kliff, he probably wanted him to forget he ever said that, but he couldn’t just leave that unacknowledged.
“Nightmares.”
Kliff’s body tensed.
“It’s okay, you know,” he said slowly. “I’ve had my fair share of them, too. But… it’s better to try, at least. That way you’re not walking around like a Terror fresh from the earth.”
Kliff sighed again, irritably this time, hand dropping back to his side. He looked like he was fighting with himself, fist clenching and unclenching, and several long seconds passed in another silence. Tobin was beginning to regret bringing this up at all, and he prepared himself for the flood of insults to come. So much for opening up.
“Fine.”
Well, that wasn’t so bad.
The word finally processed in his mind, and he nearly fell from the saddle.
“Wait – ‘ fine ’? You’re agreeing?”
“I agree that it’s better to try than not,” Kliff said evenly. “And I can barely…” He sighed again. “Fine. I’ll take you up on that.”
Tobin’s pulse roared in his ears. Oh, he could not mess this up. He’d never forgive himself.
Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Kliff whipped around and pointed a threatening finger at him, which would have been a meaningless gesture from anyone else, but Tobin knew the power that sparked beneath the surface. “Don’t you dare get annoying about this,” he warned.
Tobin grinned weakly, holding his hands up in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
He guided his horse to the side and slowly came to a stop. Kliff followed, looking very much like he regretted his decision already, but he didn’t hesitate to place one foot in the stirrup and hoist himself up. Tobin scooted back and gestured before him, and, at Kliff’s half-questioning, half-annoyed look, said, “If you sit behind me, you can still fall. This way, you can lean on me.”
He chose his words carefully, but the implications hung in the air like a thick fog. And I can hold you.
He knew Kliff was too perceptive not to notice, but he settled himself in front of Tobin anyway. He didn’t lean back. Tobin slowly reached around him and took the reins, urging his horse back into motion, catching back up to where they were easily.
He really didn’t think this one through.
Several seconds of silence passed. Tobin thanked Mila, Duma, and whoever else was out there that the two of them were positioned several rows behind the rest of their friends. If Gray saw this, he’d never hear the end of it.
Then Kliff leaned back.
His eyes were already closed, cheeks painted a quiet red, face turned mostly away from Tobin, but he had actually done it. He was actually going to rest against Tobin and take a nap. What?
Since when did Kliff trust any of them this much?
For a split second, Tobin caught himself hoping Kliff didn’t trust any of the others this much, that he was unique in that respect. He blasted that thought away as soon as it formed.
He held the reins firmly in both hands, arms on either side of Kliff to hold him in place. It only took a few minutes for Kliff to become heavy with sleep, falling all the way back, head balanced on Tobin’s shoulder. He worried his heartbeat, pulsing almost painfully through his entire body, would end up waking him again, or the movement of the horse, but the other boy was entirely at peace.
Tobin had never seen him like this before. He looked almost angelic. Which, honestly, wasn’t a far cry from how he usually looked. Not that he’d ever tell anyone that.
Kliff never stirred in the hours until Alm stopped them to rest. His breathing was steady and soft, his weight somehow a calming touch, grounding Tobin to reality. He found himself wishing this leg of the journey would never end, just so he could treasure this moment forever. He would continue sitting still as a statue, ignoring the urge to run his fingers through Kliff’s irresistibly soft-looking hair, over his pale, unblemished skin, for as long as it took, as long as Kliff felt better when he awoke.
He’d sit there and hold him for as long as he could.