Part 12

Zara awoke to a cold, drop of rain hitting her face. She let out a groan as another fell, then another and another until it was coming down in sheets. Her eyes felt heavy as she struggled to open them, her head pounding. She tentatively lifted a hand and winced when she felt the deep gash near her forehead.

What the hell? Had she hit her head when they jumped into the river? As she lowered her hand, she noticed the last remaining drops of red tinted water rolling off her skin. She wanted to sit there a little longer and let the rain continue to wash her clean, but her mind warned her there wasn't time.

Her brain felt foggy, as if she had drank too much ale the night before. Memories came in jumbled pieces, none of them fitting together. Her eyes searched the river bank, expecting to see Ronan somewhere nearby, recovering from their little swim.

Ronan.

A vision suddenly cut through her head, her sword pointed at him before he was flailing backwards into the water. A sharp gasp left her lips as she scrambled to her feet, ignoring her aching head. The curse. Oh god, the curse. It flooded back to her at once. The rage, the hurtful words they had thrown at one another for no reason, the feeling that if she didn't hurt him, if she didn't cause him pain, that she would never be happy. If he were dead, if something had happened to him...

She'd never forgive herself.

"Ronan!" Zara cried.

There was another flash of lightning as she ran down the river bank, searching for him, hoping he had managed to pull himself up on shore somewhere and that the river hadn't swallowed him. What if he had hit his head when she pushed him? What if he'd been knocked unconscious?

She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, feeling frantic.

The first light of sunrise was masked by the gray storm clouds swirling overhead, making everything around her seem gray and bleak. Except for the river, whose water was still as vividly red as her cloak. She drew her hood up, although she was already soaked through, and continued sweeping the river hoping she wasn't too late.

She also kept her eyes out for the wolves, in case any were still lingering across the bank. They were smart enough to steer clear of the water but that didn't mean they wouldn't find another way to cross. They had the advantage of time, unlike her and Ronan.

"Ronan!" she called again, as lightning flashed and thunder cut through the air. Rain fell harder, pelting her like small pebbles. She impatiently wiped water from her eyes, and when she looked back at the river, her heart leapt into her throat. A crumpled body clung to a low hanging tree branch that jutted across the river. How long had he been there, fighting to keep from being washed further down river and pulled beneath the rapids?

Zara slid down the sloping sides of the bank, her boots sinking into the mud until it covered her ankles. She was careful to avoid the water. Ronan's eyes were shut and she hoped it wasn't too late. She called his name and his eyes flew open. She was taken aback by the look of seething hatred that brewed in his gaze when he saw it was her standing there. He was still under the curse.

"Come to watch me drown?" he spat, droplets of red water clinging to his skin and hair.

"Grab my hand!" she ignored him and reached out a hand as far as she dared, stretching her fingertips towards him. He scowled at her but didn't move. "Please, Ronan!"

"No," he said stubbornly, and she just barely caught the exhaustion in his voice. He wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. "I can't trust you."

There was a stab of irritation just barely felt beneath her fear. "Yes, you can!" she argued. "It's the curse, Ronan. Remember the curse? You have to fight it!" She wasn't ashamed of pleading. If it meant his survival she would beg him until she'd exhausted all reserves of strength inside her. She hadn't realized how fearful she was to lose him, and she wasn't entirely sure what that meant. Maybe that she knew she couldn't survive the forest without his help, or maybe just simply that she didn't want to. She swallowed hard. "You know I would not willingly hurt you. It's this river. It's making you believe I'm an enemy. If I wanted to hurt you, wouldn't I have done it before now? Haven't I had every opportunity to end your life? But that's not me, and this isn't you! Some part of you must feel that!"

Conflict churned in his eyes. The internal battle he was fighting was written all over his face.

"If you stay there, you'll die! Come on, Ronan!" she yelled over the sounds of the storm and the rushing water of the river. Panic had her heart in an iron grip, visions of Gray flashing through her mind. She had failed him, she wouldn't fail Ronan too. She desperately stretched her fingers toward him.

His green eyes flickered from her hand to her face. There was a pause where she wasn't sure whether he would take her hand or not, but then he was reaching. His palm was slick with water and almost slipped from her grasp. Using both hands, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled him closer to the shore. Then together, they climbed up the muddy embankment.

Zara was out of breath when she collapsed onto her back. She didn't even mind the rain pelting her face, the relief she felt overpowering anything else. Ronan was lying next to her and his chest was heaving.

Before she had time to fully recover, he was suddenly hovering over her and the blade of a dagger was pressed to her throat. She swallowed against the cold metal, her pulse pounding in her ears. Ronan's knees rested on the ground on either side of her waist, the hand not holding the blade pressed against her shoulder and keeping her pinned to the ground.

"Ronan," Zara warned, keeping perfectly still. She held his gaze, willing him to break free from the spell and remember who he was. Rain washed the red water away until it was clear. The moment seemed to last forever, the blade painfully digging into her throat each time she swallowed. The anger eventually began to fade and was replaced with dawning realization as the curse was washed away with the rain.

He threw the blade into the grass, as if afraid of what he'd almost done. His head fell between his hands as he pushed himself off her and sat back into the damp grass. Zara sat up and crawled over to him until she was crouched in front of him. She grabbed his wrists and pulled them from his eyes. The terrified expression there made her heart sink.

"I'm so sorry," he murmured. "I don't...I wouldn't have..."

"I know, I'm sorry too. I could've killed you." Zara shook her head, as his fingers wound around hers. She didn't pull away, the heat of his skin entirely too pleasant.

His eyes swept over her face and stilled on the cut on her forehead. His expression grew grim. He withdrew one of his hands and reached out to touch the wound. "I didn't...did I?"

Zara flinched but didn't answer. His fingers dropped, a string of curses falling from his mouth.

"Come on, let's get out of this rain," she mumbled, ignoring the heat his touch had ignited under her skin. She stood, held out a hand, and helped him up.

Heads bowed against the rain, they ventured back into the forest. The canopy of leaves offered some protection, but not much. Zara had a fleeting thought to look at the map, but she was too exhausted. Wintercliff was close by, at least she could be certain of that. They didn't speak as they walked, although talking would have been a pointless endeavor anyways, thanks to the howling winds and thunder. Eventually, she felt Ronan nudge her and lifted her head to see a narrow creek. They followed it to a small, natural pool of water that had been carved into the side of a rocky cliff.

They ducked into a small overhang that went back only a couple of feet into the rock face, the walls inside smooth and glistening with moisture. Slumping back against the furthest wall, Zara stretched her legs out in front of her and watched the rain pelt the surface of the small pool, causing dozens of tiny ripples.

She shrugged out of her cloak and tossed it to the side, the fabric heavy with water. Ronan dropped his pack near her feet and she watched with mild interest as he rummaged around inside. Her eyes felt heavy again and unconsciousness threatened to overtake her. Her eyelids fluttered shut.

"Not yet," Ronan said, placing a hand on her knee and shaking her awake.

She opened one eye and squinted at him. "I'm a little tired. If you remember, we just spent a good chunk of time trying to murder one another. I think a little sleep is well-deserved," she huffed.

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "You can sleep after I patch that cut up. Although I'm relieved your friendly sense of humor has been unscathed."

Zara managed a wry smile.

He crouched closer to her, tilting her head back gently to see the gash. His lips frowned and his eyes were filled with regret and shame. She heard the smallest of sighs as he took a cloth and began to clean the cut.

He shook his head. "I can't stop thinking about what I said to you..." He trailed off and she lowered her eyes, remembering the words all too well. "I know you're not a murderer. I knew it even as I said it. I just couldn't stop, Zara. I'm so sorry."

"Don't bother. I know it wasn't you." She remembered her own heartless words as well. "We both said things we didn't want to."

"What happened to him?"

She froze, becoming very still at his words. She hadn't wanted to tell him. She'd been hoping to make it through their entire journey without having to. She finally looked at him, though, and grudgingly realized that that had been a foolish idea. "I didn't murder him but I might as well have. It's my fault anyways," she said. Ronan was quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I joined the guard because I had no one. My entire family was dead. I thought it would give me a purpose. And it did," she admitted. "And it gave me people to care about. Including Gray. He and I worked together a lot, patrolling the area near Whitehaven. One night, I heard a cry for help and I went after it, not even thinking it might not be genuine. I was the first one in the clearing. I saw the wolf there. Only it didn't choose me." Her voice grew low in an attempt to buffer the emotion there.

"I watched my friend die," she whispered. "I led him into danger and was helpless to save him." She paused, inhaling deeply before letting out a shaky breath. "Do you know what I did? Ran. I abandoned someone I cared about in a time when they needed me most. I used to tear myself apart, wondering why it'd been him instead of me. Or why it hadn't been both of us. I suppose I have part of my answer now," she said with a grimace, Ardon's words ringing in her ears.

"Zara," Ronan breathed. "There was nothing you could have done."

She shook her head, gritting her teeth. "Doesn't matter. It's part of the oath I made as a Red Cape. I should've stayed and fought. Even if I would've died there with him." Cautiously, she raised her eyes to meet Ronan's. "I don't blame if you regret asking me to come with you here. As I'm sure you guessed, I'm not exactly popular among the people of Whitehaven any longer."

"Our mistakes don't make us who we are," he insisted in a low voice. "It's how we come back from them that prove our worth. You want to honor your friend's memory? Stop feeling guilty for what happened. Living your life under that kind of shadow will bring you nothing good."

"I'm not sure I deserve anything good," she quipped before she could stop herself.

"You can't let one mistake define the rest of your life."

"That mistake has defined the rest of my life. What am I supposed to do now?" she asked with a humorless laugh.

Ronan picked up the cloth again and began to gently clean off the rest of the matted blood that clung to her face and dark hair. "You stop feeling sorry for yourself and stand back up. No one is going to do it for you. Take back control of your life."

His reaction to her story was not one she had expected. There was no anger, no disgust, no sympathy. Instead, there seemed to be a sort of ruthlessness behind his words that clearly spoke volumes. He wasn't going to feel pity for her, but instead insist she stand up tall and face what she had done head on instead of running from it. Still, it was easier said than done.

"I don't know where to even begin," she whispered, ashamed of her weakness. He was the first she had admitted any of it too. There was just something about Ronan that made her want to trust him. Despite everything else. She desperately wanted to.

"This is start, isn't it? Agreeing to help me. Whether or not this puts you back into the good graces of the guard, you are out here trying. That's better than nothing."

She nodded slowly, mulling his words over in her head. "So you don't regret asking me for my help, even after knowing that I got someone killed. Even after I almost just killed you."

"I knew you had done something. There were whispers about it all over Vallan," Ronan told her. "If anything, I'm surer than ever I made the right decision in asking your help. You've helped us stay alive. And don't forget, I almost killed you too. But so have about half a dozen other things. Let's just be thankful we're both still here."

Zara nodded silently, pondering the weight of his words. For a huntsman, he wasn't entirely what she had expected.

He tossed the rag down and prodded the cut with his fingers. A hiss of pain escaped her. "Sorry. Was trying to see if we needed to stitch it up, but I think you'll be fine."

"Silver lining," she said with a slight sarcastic smile.

Ronan's lips twitched and his hands slid to cup her face. Her stomach flipped against her will. He was close enough for her to feel his breath against her face and she surprised herself by wondering what it'd be like if he moved just a little closer. Both wondered and dreaded. The very idea seemed dangerous. After all, people who got close to her only seemed to get hurt and she was tired of letting people down.

It was somehow both uncomfortable and thrilling, to have him look at her like that. In a moment of brave foolishness, her hands found their way to his chest. His expression flickered. She could feel the warmth of his skin, feel his heart beating beneath the damp fabric of his shirt.

A booming clap of thunder echoed around them, and they jumped apart. Zara dropped her hands into her lap, her cheeks burning with heat. She tucked her chin to her chest so he wouldn't see.

"Get some sleep." She heard him murmur.

She nodded, and glanced up as the hue in her skin faded. He had already turned his back to her, though, and was standing near the entrance to the overhang. He leaned one shoulder against the cliff wall, watching the rain fall on the other side. Zara's eyes traced the broadness of his shoulders, down to the narrowness of his hips. Suddenly embarrassed of herself, she forced her eyes shut.

Was it such a wrong thing, though, to want?

In a place like this it was, she reminded herself. There was no room for a huntsman in her head right now. Yet he didn't seem to want to leave.