Part 19

They walked until the sun had set again and night blanketed the forest. Zara couldn't help but suppress a shiver. This was a feral part of the woods, one she was certain no human had entered for decades. The raw, undisturbed power was almost palpable. Both she and Ronan had been silent, too aware of the many watchful eyes and listening ears that surrounded them. Even still, she hadn't yet decided for herself what it would take to forgive for his lie. She wanted to believe that she would have gone with him had he told her the truth from the beginning, but deep down she knew that wasn't true. Back in the tavern in Whitehaven, she would have turned away from him and left him to face the forest alone. What kind of person did that make her?

Ardon was speaking in a low, urgent tone to one of his pack members, both in their human forms. She recognized the younger man that had tossed her the canteen the day before. Ardon gestured toward Zara and Ronan with a wave of his hand, and then next thing she new, the younger man was purposefully striding toward them. She met his dark eyes with her strong, steady gaze, trying to let him know she wasn't afraid. She was stronger than that.

"I've been instructed to make your stay with us comfortable," he said in a low voice, though his emphasis on the word 'comfortable' was more threatening than anything else. "I know your scent. Both of you. Run and I will find you. Ardon may need you alive, but he never specified in one piece..." His words trailed off but his meaning was clear.

"You can stop with the threats. We're not running anywhere," Ronan answered in a cool voice to match the young werewolf's.

Zara silently agreed. The reality of escaping was squelched by the fact that they were under the surveillance of a pack of wolves that could easily track them and outrun them without much effort. The idea had long since been abandoned, but another had formed in its place during their long trek through the woods.

She had almost forgotten about the Finder's Glass still hidden away in Ronan's pocket. It had been during their long trek that she'd suddenly remembered watching the huntsman hastily shove it out of view when Ardon had shown up outside the cottage door in Wintercliff. Her heart had flitted with hope. It may have been a small trinket, barely bigger than the palm of her hand, but it had been enchanted by old magic. This was the one and only advantage they had over Ardon. It needed to remain a secret, especially considered the role the object played in her newly formed plan. It was a plan she intended to attempt once the pack had fallen asleep. Hopefully they would, and hopefully Ardon wouldn't return until morning. It did bother her, though not knowing where he was going or what he was doing. Nothing good...that went without saying.

"Good. You're smarter than you look," the man growled, baring his teeth in an animalistic manner before backing off.

"I take that as a compliment," Ronan muttered, the words just barley audible. Zara's lips twitched, though a smile never came.

Her shoulders sagged as she sat on the ground, resting her aching feet. The Finder's Glass was still clutched in her hand and she turned it over, studying its intricate design. It was a wonder how something so small and so seemingly unimportant looking, could hold so much power. She let out a soft sigh after a moment and pocketed it, Ronan sinking to the ground next to her, his shoulder resting against hers. She tried not to react to his closeness, sitting perfectly still. Her eyes flickered to Ronan's bound hands, nostrils flaring when she noticed the ropes around his wrists had made his skin pink and raw. She swallowed back her anger, focusing instead on her plan.

Not trusting the conversation to not be overheard by keen wolf ears, she reached for his hands, acting as if she merely meant it as a comforting gesture. Ronan glanced at her in surprise, but she shook her head and looked pointedly at her hand covering one of his. Using her thumb, she traced an invisible message across the skin of his hand.

'Have a plan'

She formed each letter slowly and carefully, making sure he followed. At first, his eyebrows had knitted together in confusion until realization slowly dawned on his face. He raised his chin slightly and she took it as acknowledgement. She waited for him to ask why, or for more details, but he didn't. Instead, when she looked at him, his gaze was steadfast and burning with determination.

Suddenly, his thumb was moving over the sensitive skin of her wrist as he traced his own message. Zara swallowed hard as she recognized each letter forming into words.

'I trust you'

She looked from their hands back to his face. Her pulse leapt. She could tell from his expression that he meant it. And as much as she wanted to return the sentiment, to feel that same level of loyalty, she couldn't. She hadn't yet forgiven him for what he had done. He seemed to know that though, as a sad smile flickered across his lips. He was the one to pull his hands away first. The warmth of his skin vanished, making her suddenly cold. He made no other move to put space between them, though, and Zara didn't either.

While she hadn't decided if what he had done was something that could be forgiven completely, she found herself begrudgingly glad of one thing.

For once, she felt relief at not being alone.

#

Zara and Ronan sat almost unmoving for what felt like hours, Zara fighting back the urge to stand and stretch her limbs. To do something besides sit. However, for her plan, it was crucial to do the opposite. Lulling their young watcher into a false sense of security was the first step, making him satisfied that neither of his prisoners were harboring secret intentions of running away. Or doing anything else stupid.

Zara considered her plan only mildly stupid.

They sat together in uneasy silence, waiting until the gentle sound of snoring filled the camp. The young wolf he was supposed to have been keeping on eye on them was resting was his back against a tree, eyes shut and chest rising gently up and down in the rhythm of a deep sleep. Zara glanced at Ronan before turning her attention to removing the metal fastener on her red cloak. She worked the clip with her fingers until it ripped free from the fabric, and then examined it in the little moonlight they had. The edges weren't nearly as sharp for the task she had in mind, but they would have to do.

"I need the mirror," she whispered, fingers wrapping around the metal fastener.

Ronan's eyes widened, his head whipping around to make sure their watchers were still asleep. When he looked back at her, his expression was puzzled. She saw with relief, though, that he was already pulling it from his pocket. "I don't understand, what do you plan on using it for?You're not going anywhere, are you?" he answered with concern.

A wry smile stretched her lips. "I won't need to go anywhere if this works. Now I need you to be my eyes. Make sure I'm not seen. "

Ronan's eyes were filled with unanswered questions but he pressed his lips together and nodded. Moving as slowly and silently as possible, she stood from her place on the ground and pressed her back against the tree, inching around it until she was hidden from view. The dark forest stretched in front of her, black and seemingly unending. Anything could have been watching her.

Zara inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, using the sharp edge of the clip to reopen the wound on her palm, the one she had gotten while fighting the banshee. Teeth gritted against the pain, her eyes fluttered open to watch as red blood flowed to the surface. She had never made a blood call before. It was impossible without any magical ability. However, she was hoping the mirror harnessed enough power to make the simple spell work. Holding the mirror flat in her palm, she raised her cut hand over the smooth glass surface. She squeezed her fist and sever droplets of crimson blood dripped onto the silver reflective glass.

"Silas," she whispered.

A beat passed before a soft, white glow suddenly pushed its way through the glass, and the mirror began to resemble a tiny palm-sized sun in her hand. The metal never grew warm, though, maintaining its coolness. Just as quickly as the light had appeared, it vanished. Once again, she was left in darkness.

Now, they waited. She had no way of knowing if the Nightwalker would answer her blood call or not. With his debt to her repaid, he had no real reason to come to her aid now. Still, she hoped against hope his curiosity would get the better of him. He had seemed just as interested as she to discover the reason Ardon had been tracking her. Now she knew why and there was no denying Ardon's next move could affect all of them, both inside and outside the forest.

She held the mirror in her cupped hands and settled herself on the forest floor. From the other side of the tree trunk, she could feel Ronan's presence. His curiosity rolled off him in waves. but his questions never came. He knew as much as she did that silence was valuable, now more than ever. The wolves couldn't know about the Finder's Glass. The idea of any magical object in Ardon's hands made her ill. He was dangerous enough as it was.

She used the tail of her cape to wipe the mirror clean before tearing off a shred of the red fabric and using it to rewrap the wound on her palm. Sleep seemed the furthest thing from her mind. Just the idea of leaving herself vulnerable amongst a pack of wolves seemed poor judgement. Even it meant stumbling through the woods in a sleep deprived state as Ardon led them to whatever fate he had in mind. For her, it was clear. He meant to be the cause of her death. For Ronan, though, that question was still unanswered. She had a feeling, though, that Ronan's part in all this would become clear soon enough.

She closed her eyes for a moment, not to rest, but to listen. With Ardon's pack in her midst, anything else that could have been lurking in the shadows seemed monumentally less threatening. Banshees, sirens, reapers...formidable but none had possessed that cold calculation, the sinister eyes that Ardon had. There was still so much about him she didn't know, yet the fact that they shared the same blood, that they had a connection, worried her. Throughout their entire hike through the forest, she had been considering it. The pieces seemed to all slowly be coming together. Everything he did was carefully planned. Appearing in her dreams now seemed like no coincidence. In fact, Gray's death seemed even less of a coincidence. A cold chill washed over her.

A cold hand suddenly clamped itself over her mouth, making her eyes fly open. Her stomach lurched, hands flying to where her weapon should've been. It took another second for her to realize the icy cold fingers over her lips belonged to a Nightwalker. Silas. Her shoulders sagged back against the tree in both relief and annoyance. Silas looked momentarily amused, his mouth twitching. He removed his hand and held a long, slender finger to his lips before straightening up. With a nod of his head, he beckoned her to follow him.

She hesitated for a moment before peering around the tree to find Ronan. He looked up at her with an unreadable expression and she pressed the mirror into his hands. "I'll be right back." Her lips barely moved, the words no more than a whisper. She turned and left before waiting for an answer.

Silas was already walking away, a vision of poise and grace. His feet seemed to make no sound as he walked, each foot fall soundless. Zara tried to match his stealth, silently thankful for her ability to see so well in the darkness. When he finally stopped to face her, they had gone far enough that the tree where she had been waiting was nothing more than a vague shape in the shadows.

She waited for the Nightwalker to speak first.

"And here is a situation I never thought I'd find myself in...a former Red Cape using a blood call to summon a Nightwalker to a pack of wolves in the dead of night in one of the most unknown parts of the dark forest." His posture had his usual air of nonchalance, but she could tell he was wary by the look in his red eyes. "What trouble you find yourself in, little Red Cape."

She ignored his attempt at pleasantries. "Silas, thank you for coming. I understand your debt with me has been paid, but I must ask another favor..."

He held up a hand, and she felt a stab of irritation at his attempt to silence her but dared not argue with what could possibly be her only hope. And to think, she was putting so much faith in a blood drinker. "First, I must know. Is it true? The whispers? You and the wolf king share the same blood?"

She exhaled slowly, pulling in her lower lip between her teeth before nodding. "Yes."

"Hm." He made a curious sound, crossing his arms over his chest. "I always knew there was something about you. Something...unusual. Even for a forest guard. I could sense it, like the faintest whiff of smoke before the beginning of a blaze."

"It's not something I intend to flaunt, Silas." She whispered, a tinge of frustration in her voice. "I called you here for help, not to discuss my family tree."

"Why? Why would I intervene with the plans of a creature who could so easily kill me and my entire clan without breaking the slightest sweat? If it's a rescue you seek, I dare not." He shook his head.

"Not a rescue. Just listen for a moment— Ardon plans on using me for a blood sacrifice."

Silas had gone very still and was staring at her hard, as if unsure of whether or not to believe her. "It would take a witch of considerable strength to pull that off, perhaps more than one. With the Shadow Coven gone, finding someone to perform such dark magic would seem impossible. Has he mentioned a witch?"

She shook her head. "No. At first I thought he meant to find one still, but now I'm not so sure. He's leading us somewhere, and I have feeling there could be a witch waiting wherever that is."

"Are you absolutely certain, Zara? A blood sacrifice...if done correctly, your blood would be enough to affect not only him but the entire pack."

"Which is why I need you to warn the guard. This could affect us all, Silas. You know it. Help me stop him."

He lifted his chin, studying her carefully. His silence was long and filled with contemplation. Zara resisted the urge to bark some sense into him, instead waiting as patiently as she could for an answer. "I will do what you ask, but in return, you will be in my debt."

"Fine." She said quickly, not eager to be in the debt of a Nightwalker, but seeing no other option.

"Your word will not be enough, little human. Or perhaps now it should be...little wolf." He taunted. "I require something a little more...reliable. Unbreakable."

Her eyes flashed, her pulse leaping. "You don't mean...a blood bond?"

Silas gave her a smile, flashing his pointed incisors. "A blood bond, yes."

She gritted her teeth. "Do you not think it bad enough I'm already connected to wolves? Now I must be connected to a Nightwalker as well?"

Silas shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself...this is your mission. I'm willing to play ally, but only under my rules. Don't forget this is just as risky for me, for many reasons. Despite my clan's treaty with the Red Capes, making any sort of deal with a human is considered weak. I'm risking my life either way."

Zara was shaking her head. Without Silas's help, she had no other paths. Calling him had been an act of desperation to begin with. The fact that he had shown was not something that could not be taken for granted. She pushed up her sleeve and held out her arm to him. "I consent then." She spat under her breath.

Silas looked at her with amusement before gliding closer. He took her hand in his, his skin like ice. His slender fingers wrapped around her wrist, feeling the steady beat of her pulse. She couldn't decide if she wanted to watch or look away, but as he bared his teeth and bent to her arm, she found her eyes unable to move. A hiss of pain escaped her as his teeth pieced her skin. She held as still as possible, her heart racing and stomach clenching. It was bizarre. She had expected to feel more pain, but besides the first initial pinch, there was nothing. In fact, she felt an unsettling calm washing over her. It was almost euphoric and she was mildly disgusted to feel a stab of disappointment as he pulled away.

He licked his lips, tongue tinted red. He wrinkled his nose slightly. "Mm...well if you were doubting your relation to Ardon, fear not. Your blood is tainted with wolf alright."

She nodded, that pleasant buzz still humming through her body. "What is that feeling?"

"Venom...not enough to damage. Just enough to form the link. When the day comes when I need that debt filled, you will virtually be unable to refuse what I ask. Not without causing yourself immense anguish of course." He explained, and used his thumb to wipe the remaining blood from her wrist before sucking it from his skin. "The feeling will wear off, but the bond will remain. I suppose this is the fondest you will ever feel of me." He grinned.

She knew he was right when he let go of her hand and her skin seemed to scream from the lack of his touch. The sane part of her blanched with annoyance. "Now you hold up your end of the deal." She said, her voice just slightly dazed. "The guard."

Silas nodded, looking solemn. "I'll find the nearest outpost." He reached out a hand and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Stay alive, little Red Cape. I will do what I can."

She nodded and Silas stepped back into the forest, melting into the shadows until it was if he hadn't been there at all. She glanced down at the two perfect pin pricks on her wrist and yanked her sleeve down. It was a sacrifice, but this was war. She would bend and break to get her moves in order, but in the end, she would be the one left standing.

Retracing her steps, she walked back toward Ronan and the pack. Now she had even more reason to fear falling asleep. If Ardon was capable getting into her mind, as she now suspected, her dreams would reveal more to him than ever.

Back in the camp, the wolves still lay sprawled across the clearing in deep sleep. Ronan was right where she had left him, sitting with his back against the tree, as vigilant as ever. When he saw her, relief painted his expression. It sent an ache through her to see him look at her that way.

She dropped to the ground next to him, their shoulders brushing. His eyes clung to her, but she didn't look at him, afraid that the look on his face would make her feel weak again. Her gaze averted to his hands in his lap, where he was still tightly gripping the mirror.

"Well?" he finally whispered.

She paused for a moment, debating whether or not to show him to two pinpricks that now scarred her inner wrist. Her fingers were still fiddling the the sleeve. He wouldn't be happy, even if she could explain why she hadn't had a choice. As it was, a camp filled with sleeping wolves wasn't a good place for an argument. She couldn't forget the look on Ronan's face when he had first met Silas. He didn't trust the Nightwalker.

"I used the mirror for a blood call. To Silas," her voice was whisper soft. "He's going to alert the Red Capes."

Just as Zara had suspected, his lips puckered a little with distaste. "You think he'll follow through?"

There was a fleeting moment of annoyance at his doubt, but she pushed it aside. Ronan didn't know Silas as she did. Maybe the blood drinker didn't care for her, but like all creatures, he had an innate desire to stay alive. Ardon threatened that. And that was what made her believe Silas would hold up his end of their deal.

"He will."

Unable to resist any longer, she turned her head to look at him. His eyes were full of contemplation and unanswered questions. His face softened after a moment, allowing her to see the trust that had been hidden in his gaze. He nodded, but said no more. Her fingers itched to brush aside the hair that curled over his forehead, but she forced her hands to be still. Not for the first time, her stubbornness ruled her.

Yet even so, there was a side in her putting up a valiant fight against it. This side forced her to consider the reality she had not had time to fully accept. If Ardon had his way, she would be dead soon. Forgiveness seemed a little thing to give in the light of that. Especially if there only so little time she had left.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Ronan pressed the mirror into her hands, giving her a fleeting, comforting squeeze before letting go. If anything, it added to the growing ache she felt. Forgiveness was not a path easily traveled, at least for her. Finding her way would not be easy. But maybe she could try.