“Gorn’s… property?” Peter asked. “What…what does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said,” Myka sighed. “I was owned by Gorn when I was still a part of Spring.”
Peter tried desperately to swallow the lump in his throat but was struggling.
“I need something to drink,” he said.
“I have water in the tent,” Myka replied.
Peter raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah, right, I’ll take the other stuff.”
Peter moved away from the fire and entered the tent. It was small but big enough for the two of them. There were two blankets laid out like a bed. Myka had never been a fan of sleeping bags. He found them too restrictive.
A large carafe and a jug were on the other side of the blankets.
“There we go,” Peter whispered, grabbing the jug and pulling out the cork. He tipped the jug back, taking a large swig.
“Careful, it’s strong,” Myka warned.
Peter smiled as he swallowed down the bittersweet liquid.
