I was eager to be on my way back along the river in an attempt to find Lyre and the others, but I was waterlogged and tired and shivering. The Hunter’s healing spell had been incomplete, and I was still sore and stiff. I was also shocked to learn that it was late in the afternoon already, and the sun was already out of sight beyond the cliff faces of the ravine. How long had I been knocked out? How far had the river taken me in that time?
Not only that, but the Hunter insisted that I rest. He built a campfire, and placed his hooded cloak around my shoulders and left. I wondered if I should escape – I wasn’t certain if I was his prisoner or not. But he had followed us all the way from the ocean, and I doubted I could get away from him now. And he had helped us fight off the hounds. I sat as close to the fire as I could, thinking over the brief conversation that had passed between us, trying to figure out if he was friend or foe. Absently I tugged his cloak around me tighter. Somehow, it was still dry and warm, and smelled faintly like mint.
The Hunter wasn’t pleased about me laughing in his face at his question, and even less pleased when I explained that I didn’t even know where the voices were from. I was also not pleased to learn that his healing ability was very limited, and so the incomplete healing and my residual soreness and scars were about as good as it was going to get. But I had felt compelled to share everything I knew with him, maybe because of the head injury. Or maybe because he was like me – a human that could use magic, who heard mysterious voices. I stared into the fire, thinking of the dogs as I rubbed at the shiny burns on my arms.
The Hunter returned before the sunlight was fully gone, carrying a pair of field dressed rabbits skewered on wooden spikes. He positioned them so they leaned over the flames, and then sat cross legged on the other side of the fire, his arms crossed, glowering at me. We sat silently, listening to the sizzle of melting fat hitting the flames. My stomach grumbled at the smell.
When the meat was finished cooking, he stood to hand me one skewer and then took the other back to his spot. He pulled the rabbit apart carefully, chewing slowly as he continued to silently stare at me. The quiet meal made me miss my friends more. That and the constant staring was disconcerting. “How long have you been able to cast?” I finally asked. I had told him everything about me, and I knew nothing about him.
He flinched at the word cast. “Since I attacked your group on the ship.”
“Before or after you killed Junel?” The words came out with a little more heat than I’d intended, and I glared at the ground to avoid looking at him.
“I didn’t kill her.” I glanced back up at him. He glared at me. “The ship blowing up took care of that. Don’t mistake me, I would have killed her. But she managed to kill herself with her own carelessness, wielding so much fire near such a volatile substance as flame powder.”
“So you wouldn’t have felt any guilt about killing her,” I stated flatly.
“Not any more guilt than any of you did massacring an entire ship of men,” he retorted.
I thought briefly of the screams, of that short bloody hallway that I had walked through. And also immediately remembered that I had almost witnessed Larina being raped, how nonchalant the Captain had been about how his crew used his slaves, and Lyre’s words about his life when I had last spoken to him. Full of resentment on their behalf, I said, “Can you blame slaves for wanting revenge for how they’re treated?”
“No.” The word came out cold and hard, catching me by surprise, and he ran his hand briefly across his face, following the trail of the scar that marred his features. “I can’t blame revenge. But I can say it never ends.” I stared into the milky iris of his injured eye, the slight notch in his nose.
Annoyed, I returned to finishing off the rabbit, surprised to see that I had pulled nearly every piece of meat from the bones. I tossed the remains into the fire, rubbing the grease off onto my pants. “Thank you for the food,” I said, perhaps a bit harsher than I should have. He stared back sullenly, which somehow was just pissing me off more. I flopped down and turned away from the fire so I wouldn’t have to see his face. I closed my eyes to force myself to sleep. The sooner I slept, the sooner the next day would come, the sooner I could start walking back up the river to find Lyre.
Not all the dogs had been dead when I had fallen off the cliff. Were my friends okay? I felt sick to my stomach thinking about the injuries they had already sustained that I hadn’t had a chance to fully heal.
I woke the next morning to the sound of the Hunter moving about the cave and the smell of mint tea. I summoned water to wash my face, and ran a hand through my hair, then turned to see what the Hunter was doing. He was in the process of pulling a metal cup away from the flames very carefully with a gloved hand, and setting it down to cool a bit. He saw me eying the cup and frowned at me. “There’s not enough to share.”
I thought of the lingering smell of mint on his cloak. “Do you just… carry mint and a cup with you? To make tea?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
“The mint stayed dry when you fell in the river?”
He looked annoyed at my line of questioning. “The cloak is enchanted to remain dry and provide a degree of magical protection. I keep the tea there.” I pulled the cloak tighter around me, wondering if he had gone pawing around it while I slept. He caught the movement and my expression and grimaced. “I wasn’t going to leave my tea in my cloak when I gave it to you. It’s my tea.”
The way he said that struck me as funny. “And there’s not enough to share?” I asked, suppressing a smile.
He leveled a flat, no-nonsense stare at me. “No.”
“Ah.”
He went about what must have been a morning routine for him. I no longer had my pack of supplies, so I didn’t have much to gather. I couldn’t remember if I had dropped it in the cliffside battle or lost it to the river. I watched as the Hunter secured his armor and his sword, kicked dirt over the fire, and then sat down and closed his eyes, sitting very still. I wondered if he was meditating, and remained silent. After several minutes had passed, he opened his eyes and drank his tea, now that it had cooled a little. Then he stood and left the cave.
I followed him, and watched as he rinsed his cup out in the river, then attached it securely to his belt. He eyed me warily for a moment. I moved to take off the cloak. “Did you need this back?” I asked, shifting it off my shoulders.
“No. You can keep it, Outworlder.”
“My name is Cassandra,” I told him.
“Cassandra,” he repeated.
I stared at him for a moment, studying the mismatched eyes. His hair was nearly as long as mine, cascading in curls around his face, glinting in the morning light. The shape of his face was almost quite delicate for a man, and he was roughly the same height as me. If it wasn’t for the scar, he would have been enviously beautiful. Despite that beauty, he was annoying the fuck out of me. “What’s your name, Hunter?” I asked into the extended silence when he didn’t offer it. He narrowed his eyes at me.
Oh, I realized. This is the moment when I find out whether he’s a friend or foe.
Without a word, he gestured downstream, as though he intended for me to walk that way. I glowered at him. “My friends are upstream.” He arched one eyebrow. I pulled his cloak tight for a moment. “Am I your prisoner then?”
He seemed taken aback by the question. After a moment, he said, “No. I don’t know.” He frowned and shook his head, then let out a deep sigh. “I’m not taking you back. The voice I hear said we should go this way.”
“Oh.” I wondered if he was lying so I wouldn’t argue.
Well, I’m certain they don’t want to hurt you at least, an amused sounding voice whispered quietly into a sudden breeze that swept my hair away from my face. This one was familiar – the one that I had heard the most. I caught a faint whiff of ozone. I could see an inquisitive look on the Hunter’s face as he realized that I must have heard something he hadn’t.
Hesitantly, I nodded. “Fine. But… what is your name?”
Just as hesitantly, he said, “I am Asterollan.”
I bit the side of my cheek to keep myself from asking if I should call him Ass. “Asterollan,” I tried the name slowly, pausing on the first syllable just long enough for my own amusement. It wasn’t a joke that would translate anyway. I smiled at him, and started walking the way he had gestured before.
As it turned out, the way that we traveled took us away from the river, and up a gently inclining slope that began to loop back. At first I thought we were going to find a way out on the Empire side of the river, but it hit a steep cliff face. From there, it followed the cliff as a narrow ledge. I walked slowly along this part, much to Asterollan’s chagrin. “Can’t you go faster?” he asked at one point.
“I really hate heights and this ledge is really narrow,” I said, attempting to keep the whine out of my voice.
“It’s wide enough to stand on easily. You’re being ridiculous.” I ignored him and kept on at a pace that was comfortable to me, and he sighed in frustration. Soon, the ledge widened out more comfortably. We came to an area of the ravine where tall rock formations criss-crossed the river, and the path we had taken brought us to the top of these formations. Looking down, I could see that the river narrowed and rushed in rapids between steep rocks. It would have been impossible to walk through here from below.
I stared down at the frothing river. “Well, looks like you were right,” I said, feeling relieved.
He said nothing. I glanced up at him to see that he was only frowning, waiting for me to continue walking. With a sigh, I continued along the path. We crossed the river a few times, and had to jump in a few spots where the rock formations did not connect. It got a bit easier, but I always paused for longer than he liked, terrified of the fall if I happened to miss.
Luckily, as it became late in the afternoon, the height of our path shortened. We were coming to an area that widened out, and the rock formations were starting to create a path back to more normal, even ground. Still, the leaping and the fear of heights had tired me out. On the last one, I slipped, and managed to just barely grab the ledge, smashing my chin into the hard rock as I did so. I groaned, but managed to hang on.
Asterollan hopped across nimbly and helped pull me up from the edge. “It’s a wonder you survived this long,” he said, sounding a little amused as he watched me rub my jaw. I continued walking, ignoring his comment, when he continued speaking unbidden. “I did think you were done for when the owl caught you.”
I stopped and looked back at him in surprise. “Silden said he spotted you after.”
“Silden. That would be the tall one I ran through on the ship?” He studied my face for a moment, then said, “You don’t have to give me that look.”
“I am 100% certain that whatever look I give you is no worse than you deserve,” I said before I could stop myself. “But yes, he was the one you stabbed.”
Something in his jaw tightened. “And that was when I saw a human cast for the first time. Quite a light show.” And then he sighed and looked away. “When the owl carried you off, I felt completely lost. I’d only crossed the blasted desert for you. I thought you’d have answers.”
“I’m sorry I’m such a disappointment to you.” I turned to continue along the path.
He silently followed.
Soon we were walking alongside the river, following it back the way we had come. I swiveled my head constantly, trying to see if anything looked familiar. “How far did the river carry us?” I grumbled as it started to get dark. “Certainly it doesn’t flow that fast.”
I could hear Asterollan’s steps come to a stop behind me. “I have something of a confession to make,” he said. I turned around, somewhat annoyed, to see a completely new expression on his face. Sheepishness? Embarrassment? He avoided looking me directly in the eyes, and there was some color in his tanned cheeks. I waited for him to speak. “When we fell into the water… I swam hard to find you, but when I reached you, you already had that head wound. I grabbed you, but the current was too strong. I couldn’t get us both to shore safely.” He paused and then looked back at me. “I asked the voice to give me the power to get us both to safety, and there was a flash of light, and we were in that cave.”
I stared at him. I felt a strained smile begin to pull at my face. “Are you telling me that you have no idea where we are?”
“I’m fairly certain this is the same river gorge,” he said, his voice a tad defensive for once.
With a dramatic groan, I dropped to sit on the nearest rock, putting my head in my hands. “You don’t even know if we ended up downriver or not! We could be traveling in the wrong direction!”
With an annoyed look on his face, he pointed north. “The mountains are there, but further away. We ended up downriver of where we were.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.”
He looked confused at my words. “What?”
I waved away his question. “Never mind!” I snapped. I studied the distant mountains, relieved to see their familiar outline. But sure enough, they were smaller than they had been the night we had camped at the cliff’s edge. A sudden anxiety began to well in my chest, making my heart heavy. If Lyre and the others were okay, what would they do? Would they search for me very long before continuing to the Empire? I had no idea where they would go once they reached freedom. If they gave up on me as lost, would I ever be able to find Lyre again?