Part 11

Sweat beaded down the side of Zara's face, and her clothing stuck to her as they fled toward the Crimson Rill. They still had no idea how to cross it, and now there wasn't even any time to think about it. Another howl cut fiercely through the night. The sound made her hold on even tighter to the slim hope that the bridge leading onto the opposite shore would somehow still be intact.

She could smell water. And something else that had the faintest hint of iron in it. A clap of thunder sounded from overhead, the storm she had seen forming that morning finally deciding to unleash. Hold off a bit longer, she begged the rain.

There was a break in the trees ahead, urging them to run just a little faster. When they emerged into the pale moonlight, Ronan skidded to a halt and placed a hand on Zara's arm, holding her back from tumbling right into the rushing water that carved through the earth in front of them. Even in the soft glow of the moon, she could see the redness of the water. It made her stomach turn.

Her eyes swept up and down the river bank, searching for some kind of bridge. The sound of rustling branches and leaves came from behind her and she whirled around. Her heart lodged itself into her throat as she caught sight of a flash of movement through the trees.

"There," Ronan said. She turned in time to see him pointing to a shadowy shape in the distance.

They ran along the river's edge to get to it, and her heart sank the closer and closer they got. She cursed under her breath when they reached the sad remains of what must have been a grand bridge once. A portion of the bridge still stood on the opposite side, jutting out half way across the river. On their side, though, nothing remained but a crumbling pile of rocks. She kicked at a smaller one with the toe of her boot, sending it spiraling into the water with a thump.

Ronan had his hands in his hair, standing motionless. He was looking into the forest, and she knew he was waiting to see the sleek movement of a wolf. Zara noticed the howling had stopped, but it did nothing to appease her anxiety. Somehow, she knew they were still there.

It was right at that moment that she saw a pair of yellow eyes peering out at her from the tree line.

She gasped a little and reached out for Ronan's arm to get his attention.

"I see it," he murmured.

Zara didn't want to look away, didn't want to risk taking her eyes off the animal that was watching them. Whether or not it was Ardon, she didn't know, but she also wasn't eager to find out. An idea began to take form in her head, though the smarter half of her hollered that it wasn't a good one. That it was an awful, terrible idea. Yet when choices were limited what else was there to do?

She glanced over her shoulder toward the rushing water. The legends were just stories. She'd never heard of anyone actually entering the water. It could all have been a tale to scare people away. But between possible insanity or death, the choice was simple. Taking a chance was better than standing on the shore, waiting to die.

"We have to go in," she said to Ronan in a rush. She expected his eyes to widen, for him to fight her on it and tell her she was insane.

Instead, she was shocked when he slowly nodded, still watching the forest. "I know."

When she looked back towards the trees, her stomach twisted to see half a dozen other yellow eyes had appeared. Ronan's hand suddenly slipped into her own, warm and solid.

At that moment, one of the wolves came forward. The black hair on its back bristled as it slunk towards them. A low growl emanated from its throat as it bared its yellowed, sharp teeth. It was almost like it was grinning at them. It lowered its body to the ground, readying to pounce.

"Now!" Zara hissed.

No time for hesitation, they turned and jumped into the river. Zara expected to feel cold, to feel a rush of numbness as the water rushed over her. Instead, it was surprisingly warm like bath water. She had lost Ronan's hand at some point as the water churned and pulled her this way and that. She finally broke through the surface and gasped for air. She looked around, struggling to keep her head above the water. She finally found Ronan, who was pushing himself toward the shore.

The rushing water pushed and shoved her relentlessly, clawing at her clothing and dragging both her and Ronan further downstream. Zara tried to keep her eye on the shore, but it felt more like a mirage in the distance than a tangible, obtainable goal. One she would never quite reach.

Water forced its way into her mouth, making her cough and sputter. She couldn't help but think of how ironic it would be if she and Ronan drowned, interchanging one form of death for another. However, she hadn't come all this way to die. She kicked with every ounce of strength she had, reaching for the shore. Ronan made it first and crawled up onto the bank before reaching down for her.

"Come on, Zara. Grab on!" he called, holding out a hand.

She reached up and felt his fingers curl around her wrist, before he was dragging her onto the shore. They both collapsed in a heap, gasping for air. Zara remembered the wolves, though, and sat up. Her eyes searched the shore for them and saw the black wolf watching them with an almost human expression in his eyes. He looked amused. A few others had emerged from the trees to watch. After a moment, they all turned and disappeared back into the darkness.

Relief poured through her. Somehow, they had both made it. Wet and exhausted, but alive. Still, her dread didn't dissipate. She couldn't shake the feeling that Ardon had been playing with them, like a cat toying with his next meal. He had an entire pack of werewolves at his beck and call. Catching up to two normal humans should've been easy. Yet here they sat, both still in one piece. She was far from complaining, but their victoriousness didn't smooth her unease.

Sitting up, Zara reached for the hem of her cloak to wring it out. The red tinted water seemed to catch the moonlight, clinging to her skin and clothing. She felt a sudden prickle of peculiarity. Her hands fell still, and she forgot where she was. Something strange was stirring inside her. It began as a mere tug of irritation but began to build and build.

She was in the dark forest, but she shouldn't have been there. She should've been back in Whitehaven, sitting in the tavern and waiting for her next job. Instead, she was stuck trampling around a god forsaken death trap with a next to useless huntsman. At least that was what he called himself, but who knew if that were true. She remembered what Ardon had said in her dream and let out a huff. She wouldn't have been surprised if he were just some lowly peasant, trying to pass as a huntsman in an attempt to make some money off a king's ransom. And that story about the Shadow Coven? All a part of the lie he was selling. Pathetic, really.

Zara turned to look at the huntsman in question, eyes narrowing. "This is all your fault," she spat. She struggled to her feet, clothes drenched.

Ronan glared back as he also stood. Drops of red water trickled down his face. "My fault? You're the one who has a pack of wolves chasing you!"

His words sparked a fire inside her. "Hardly my fault as I have no idea why! I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you dragging me into this little rescue of yours. Tell me, are you even a real huntsman?" she sneered. "Because to me you just look like a weak, little man who has no idea what he's doing."

Ronan's fingers curled into fists at his side and his body tensed. A gleeful smirk stretched her lips. Oh, she was enjoying this.

But why? she asked herself. The thought nudged and prodded at her. Her eyes flickered towards the water.

"Why?" she mumbled aloud. She felt as if she were being torn in half, two sides of her struggling for dominance. The side that wanted to fight and argue, and the other side that considered Ronan an ally at least, if not a friend.

"That's rich, isn't it? Especially coming from a girl who got herself kicked out of the forest guard for killing someone!" Ronan shot back.

The contemplative, calm side of her was overpowered by the anger. It took over, igniting her bloodstream and making her feel as if she was on fire from the inside out. Without warning, she let out a cry of rage and charged at Ronan. He hadn't been expecting it, which gave her the advantage. He stumbled but caught his footing just in time to push her away as her fist narrowly missed colliding with his head.

"I didn't kill him!! It wasn't me!" she howled. She lunged again, this time landing a hit on his jaw and knocking his head backwards. She skirted around him, ready for him to react.

Ronan let out a hiss of pain, wiping blood from his torn lip. The seething hatred in his eyes might have scared her had she not been so angry herself. She wanted him to come at her, to try and take her down. To prove he wasn't weak.

He jerked towards her with a fist raised and she ducked just in time, dancing out of the way. She was pleased that her time away from the Red Capes hadn't affected her reflexes.

"Can't even get one hit in, can you? Weak," she spat, a terrible gleefulness filling her eyes. She wanted to feel the collision of her knuckles against his jaw again, wanted the satisfaction of seeing him bleed. It was all his fault, he'd done this.

She pulled her arm back and let it fly only for Ronan to surprise her by catching her fist and throwing it back. With his other arm, he elbowed her hard in the chest. The wind was knocked out of her as she fell backward onto the forest floor. Something hard knocked into her head and her vision swam. Warm, sticky blood trickled down the side of her face. She shook away the blackness creeping in on the edges of her vision as Ronan advanced on her. While she was small and quick, trained in fighting, he was still much bigger and stronger.

She rolled as his foot came down, inches from her head. She lurched back to her feet, pulling her sword from its scabbard in the same movement. The blade glinted in the moonlight as she whipped around and held the pointed tip against Ronan's throat. He stopped moving, chest heaving up and down. It was a shame looks couldn't kill. Judging by his expression, she would have already dropped dead. She could feel the heat of his anger radiating off him. His fingers twitched at his sides and she pressed the blade harder.

"By the time you reach your weapon, I'll have slit your throat and left you for dead," Zara warned, taking a step forward as Ronan automatically took one back to avoid her blade. She envisioned herself making a clean slice across the base of his throat, but something held her back. Warned her to stop it, to stop all of it. She couldn't. The turbulent anger inside her dominated her completely. She wasn't in control.

"Go ahead, kill me. I hope those wolves come and tear you into itty, bitty pieces. You entitled, snotty-"

Zara didn't give him a chance to finish. She swiftly raised her boot and kicked his chest, sending him reeling backwards. He struggled to find his footing on the bank of the river, but the edges were too slick with mud and water. He slipped and fell, thrashing into the current.

A triumphant smirk pulled at her lips as she watched the river carry him downstream. Victory, she thought, sheathing her blade. There was a flash of violet lightning across the sky, followed by a clap of thunder that shook the trees. Suddenly feeling exhausted, her head throbbing, she weaved towards the nearest tree and leaned against it. A faraway, frantic voice warned her to stay awake, warned her about what she'd done, but she was too tired to listen.

She slid to the ground and let her head fall back. It felt as if the entire earth were tilting and swaying as blackness crept in on her vision once again. This time, she let it take her.