"Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run"
Title: Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain, DG, Glitch, Raw (appearances by: Jeb, Tutor, Lavender, Azkadellia, Ahamo)
Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: On the Route to Finaqua, leaving the threat of the New Resistance and a dying Lady Lavender behind in Central City, Cain is attempting to maintain his tenuous grip on DG's trust. With no news, only promises, the four heroes continue south.
Chapter Ten: Fireside
The way Cain remembered things, nightfall in the O.Z. had a way of taking its sweet time, especially in early summer. By the time the group had left the orderly rows of the orchards behind them, the afternoon light was beginning to take on a faded, hazy quality. Even after they'd been swallowed up by the shadows of the forest beyond the Fields of the Papay, the shafts of sunslight breaking through the thick canopy of broad leaves were pale and filtered through with dust and insects.
Cain pushed them until the temperature began to shift, an almost imperceptible nip to the air as the suns sank lower in a sky that he couldn't see. While he was certain that Glitch was carrying a timepiece, he wasn't about to ask after it; though he tried his best to gauge the day's progress from his last glimpse of the suns before entering the woods, it was all guesswork, and shoddy at that. When he took them off the road, far enough that the flames of a small fire would go unnoticed, it was probably much earlier in the evening than he'd intended, but then again, he hadn't really intended on stopping for the night in the first place.
"Shouldn't we be making for the Crack? Put it behind us before dark?" Glitch asked, with no real interest; he was the first one dismounted when Cain had found a spot deemed worthy enough to spend the night.
"Not unless you wanna be explaining to Route Patrol what we're doing crossin' the gorge this late," Cain said, alighting carefully to favour his aching legs. "With the princess, no less."
DG, from the perch of her saddle, looked confused. "They don't know we're coming?"
"Route Patrol don't," he said, "though they're expectin' us down south."
'Least I hope they are, he thought, but he kept such darknesses to himself. Truth was he didn't know much of anything at all when it came to what was ahead of them and what they'd left behind. Were the only people aware of their departure Azkadellia and DG's parents? Or was the entire palace of Finaqua awaiting them, turning down sheets and opening windows to bright southern sunslight, eager to have their saviour princess come to stay? In any event, there wasn't much could be done but keep heading as they had been, and worry about Route Patrol - and the Finaqua guard - when they came to it.
With the avoidance of conversation still at the fore, they stumbled awkwardly through their first evening together. Cain built a fire; darkness fell; supper, stories, silence.
The clearing in which they rested was well-protected by the ancient, sleeping trees; beyond the canopy, he was certain the stars blazed on. The fire popped and snapped, sending sparks flying skyward in poor imitation, the glow dying quickly in the cold. The quiet of the day seemed to be finally, slowly, loosening its grip on their spirits. There was still very little to say, but the small noises of companionship - mumbled thanks, scattered words, sighs and laughter - were enough to help Cain relax. He even managed to forget, for a few short minutes, that he was supposed to be keeping a close eye on DG.
He kept expecting her to start blurting out questions. It wasn't like her to sit and chew her lip - he could see the slight press of her teeth even in the weak firelight - not when he knew there were things on her mind needed talking over. That she'd learned to curb her curiosity wasn't something that left him feeling wholly secure in his understanding of her; if she couldn't ask, then she wouldn't tell what she was thinking when the time came, and that was usually the time he regretted not tying a bell 'round her neck.
Raw was having a hard time keeping his attention off DG, as well; every sideways glance he stole at her was accompanied by a frown, or slow head shake. If Cain could feel the tension radiating off the kid, he sure as hell didn't envy the Viewer the gift of heartsight, no sir. Every time DG restlessly shifted her position, her gaze never leaving the flames at the centre of the circle they created, he watched as Raw squirmed just as uncomfortably.
Honestly, he didn't want to interfere. If she wasn't going to speak up, he was more than prepared to just let her stew. Better to let her know everything once they were safe in Finaqua; he was determined that she had to know, because he'd rather have a palace full of guards at his back, ready to keep her where she was supposed to be if any flighty ideas suddenly planted themselves in her brain. Then again, his first night back in Central had seen her escape the palace security fences by turning herself to shadow.
Maybe he was just a plain, old coward; too worried about shielding her from what would only hurt. It was their first three days all over again, swallowing back the knowledge that he'd been tailing a Gale, a princess, and a dead one at that. There'd been no time, no words, not even the sense of obligation, least not to her, just the word he'd given, that had been his only truth then. She was just a kid on a mission, not to save the O.Z. but to find her mother, a babe in the woods and she wasn't his problem - until she was.
That was all behind them; a lifetime behind, felt like, though he wasn't sure his companions shared this sentiment. As he glanced at the others around the fire, more at ease than he'd seen any of them since they'd reunited, he realised that, despite the unnecessary situation he'd found himself in, he was happier now than he'd been since...
Huh.
Well then, wasn't that something.
He smirked at his own inability to remember the last time he'd felt this kind of peace, and it was then that he caught DG watching him, her face pale and strange in the firelight. He shifted his position until he was sitting atop the deeply-bedded rock he'd been using as a backrest; he took his hat off, placing it on the forest floor beside him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and only then did he look DG in the eye. She'd watched his every purposeful movement, but when his eyes met with hers, she sat up straighter, ready under fire. And while he had caught her attention, she drew the attention of the others; while she watched him, they watched her.
Enough of this dancing around inevitability. As far as he saw it, the sooner he knew what was flying through that mind of hers, the better.
"So, do you wanna tell us what exactly you were going on about this afternoon?" he asked, giving her a chance. "You said in the fields that something wasn't right."
The rigidity went out of her spine, and she slumped a little, hesitant to answer.
Glitch spoke up. "The fields are just creepy. Puts a chill in the heart, and those runners were getting close! Isn't that right, DG?" He thought he was coming to her rescue.
"Always pass through same field," Raw said. "Never changes."
"No, it is different," DG said, though she didn't elaborate. "That's not what I meant. The fields are - the fields are fine, okay?"
"You could've fooled me," said Glitch, unconvinced.
Cain snorted despite himself. "That ain't hard."
"DG not lying," Raw said; his face was as solemn as it came. "Fields are - are right." It wasn't often that Cain saw the Viewer struggle with human language, a faltered search for the word to describe feelings that ran deeper and more pure than Cain could ever hope to experience.
"Well, if it wasn't the fields that had you spooked, what was it?" Cain asked. He watched for her reaction carefully, but she gave no discernible response; the same unremarkable expression, detachment perfected.
"It was the fields, but it was something else, too," she said. "I've still got half a mind to turn around and go back to Central City, all right? I don't want to be out here, I want to be at home."
Cain's answer was quick, and poorly phrased. "You aren't the only one, kiddo."
"Then why are we out here?" It was an honest question, a bare-laid and brutal question.
"Your mother just wants you kept safe, DG," Glitch said, trying to keep his voice light, to protect her from the idle threat and the possibility that this was all just the deathbed whim of a fallen queen, a failed mother.
"That's -" Sharply, she cut herself off; she went through the bitter motions of swallowing back the blackness on her tongue. She tapped her hands on the tops of her legs as she took a moment to sum up her thoughts. "That's not good enough," she said instead. "I'm safer where Az is, we're safest together." It was gospel to her, Cain could read it in her eyes, that stone-cold belief she'd been fed since infancy. Even after fifteen annuals as someone else, coming back to the Zone she'd built up from this cornerstone, perhaps the only remnant of her 'true' life.
"Your mother - and Azkadellia, I suppose, in her way - feel differently," Glitch said; there was a meekness to his voice, and Cain couldn't discern why that would be until suddenly DG was on her feet and replanting herself at Glitch's side, settled down on her knees close to the fire right before his eyes, effectively making herself the only thing the poor bastard could see.
"Okay, you know how this is going to go," DG said, all blue eyes and brass.
Glitch leaned back slightly; his own eyes widened, but for fear or surprise, there was no telling. "I -"
"I'm not safer in Finaqua," she said. "They want me out of Central City."
"Well -" Glitch's eyes flicked to Cain. For his part, Cain tried his best not to roll his own in return. This was the man who had withstood the Sorceress' interrogation so completely that she'd had to remove his brain to get what she wanted?
"Why do they want me out of Central City?" she asked him, slow and careful. Glitch remained silent, his eyes on hers now and never breaking, falling into the lessons of Ambrose, Cain supposed. DG leaned in closer, her profile disappearing from his vision as her hair fell over her shoulders. "Glitch, what's going to happen in Finaqua?"
"Nothing." The word was clipped, all truth and even DG knew it.
Raw stood, and moved to take a step closer to DG. He sensed something, something dangerous and worthy of putting himself in the way. DG, without turning, put a hand out to stop him, and he stalled in his tracks. From the edge of the campsite, forgotten by all of them, Cain watched. He was impressed with the girl, he couldn't deny it, and so he waited to put an end to it.
"Nothing," DG repeated, and she shook her head. "Then why can't I be in Central City? So there was a fight, I don't see -"
"It wasn't just a fight," Glitch said, sounding braver than he looked. "The men who instigated - well, the perpetrators were said to be - Great Gale, DG, don't you see -"
"Longcoats," Raw said quietly.
"I know that," she said, "Mr. Cain told me this morning before we left."
"I did," Cain spoke, giving Glitch a brief nod when he shot an unimpressed look across the fire.
With a sigh, Glitch gave up all pretence of secrecy; his shoulders slumped, and he let his head hang for a moment, perhaps to better allow him to gather his thoughts. Confident that she was now going to receive her answers, DG sat back and waited patiently. It was nothing short of amazing, how easily she could turn it on and off.
"There's no knowing how many recruits the resistance has seen," Glitch said after long moments of nothing but the whispering fire to fill the air. "They're deep underground, you have to understand, and more widespread across the realms than I care to imagine. Nowhere near the numbers of the former resistance, but it's still been enough to keep us awake at night."
"How many nights," DG wondered aloud, and Cain could still hear the acute sting in her voice, the hurt at being left in the dark.
"The point is," Glitch said, "that there's no knowing what their next move is going to be."
DG shook her head, refusing to believe she was running from fear of the unknown. "I'm safest with Azkadellia," she said again. "And she's safest with me! If there's danger, actual, real danger, then I should be with her. This is ridiculous -" She stood then, shooting up so fast Cain was surprised she didn't fall right back down on her bottom. She looked ready to bolt back to Central, darkness, Papay field, and all.
Glitch seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "DG, please sit. You can't go back."
Raw, still standing quietly, stopped wringing his hands long enough to reach for her again. "Please, DG." He winced when she refused to move. Instead, she put her hands on her hips, and leaned ominously over Glitch, who, again to Cain's wonderment, was not cowed. It was still hitting him hard, and unexpectedly, how much they had changed and strengthened, and how much they had stayed the same.
"Why did my mother send me away." Her demand, not a question, hung in the air long after she'd finished it; Glitch wordlessly stammered, and Raw's hand fell out of the air and stayed helplessly at his side. Cain - well, he remained where he was. There was nothing else for him to do.
DG shook her head. "You know," she said to none of them in particular, useless as they were, "I've put up with a lot. Really, I have. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but saving the world was a pretty thankless job, and I've done everything after it without ever asking why, and I'm not going a step further until someone explains to me what I'm doing it for." With that, she went back to her spot, settling with her back against a tree and her arms wrapped around her knees. So determined was her stand that Cain found himself believing her.
Not your business to tell her, Wyatt, keep your damned mouth shut.
Minutes marched past with traitorous consistency. The flames ate away at the thick deadfall that gave it life, slowly reducing it to broken, glowing coals. Ash flew in the air now with each combustion, fewer and far between. To break the spell, Cain added more felled branches, banking it up for the night. He kept his eyes down, trying to ignore the nervous twitching of Raw's leg, or Glitch's hands worrying at his pant legs, or DG's utter stillness. None of it pointed to this ending easily.
Eventually, Glitch cleared his throat, a superficial gesture, a place to begin. "There's no danger from the Longcoats - not from the New - not without -" He stalled and started, stalled again. A poor font of knowledge, but the only one they had. "You're out of Central City. Out of sight, out of mind."
DG's brow knit together, confusion and anger, always a volatile combination. "What -"
Cain, growling, had finally had enough. "It means that there's no chance of the resistance getting to you, turning you against your sister."
DG shook her head. "That's insane," she said, lips staying parted in disbelief.
"Not really," Cain said, saving Glitch from her line of fire. He stood up, brushing ash off his hands. "Not everyone around you believes in your sister as much as you do. What with your mother being sick, well, it changes the perspective a bit."
"Yours?" she demanded.
He exhaled hard, and raised his chin. "No. Don't ever ask me that again. I mean it, princess."
Blushing, she looked away.
Hours later, Wyatt was the only one awake.
He sat at the farthest edge of the campsite, his back to a stout tree and the chill summer night all around him. His advantage of a small slope allowed him to see the silhouettes of the others, curled in their sleeping rolls around the fire; the dim glow of the deep-heart embers illuminated little more than small glimpses of fair flesh, peeking out from collar, sleeve, or blanket.
Sleep was coming slowly to him, but he was already beginning to feel its gradual pull, and had since been considering moving back down the rise to the minimal comfort of his bedroll. The light breeze already seemed intent on lulling him to sleep, playing through the whole of the forest with gentle precision. Summer nights like this... he remembered them with such clarity, spots of brilliance in his sepia memory. Adora and Jeb, his mother and sisters, lives long gone or lost to him through the tick of iron and clockwork.
Ghosts kept him awake, whispers in the trees wove cobwebs in his eyes. A battle waged inside his body, and the victor was yet undetermined; while he waited, he kept his thoughts trained on the night around him, the memories that wanted to seep inside his blood like creeping cold. Fighting them off was easier said; with no distraction, he was at the mercy of whatever his mind threw at him.
White dress, ash leaves, yellow ribbons and muddy water; blue eyes and brown ones, wide and scared, dead eyes; rain and snow, one endless grey day, trapped forever in grey, yellow ribbons, blood-stained yellow ribbons; a smile, gentle and reserved, a lady's smile, but now it was all shiny, happy teeth and pink lips, hard-coaxed and hard-won -
The shadows near the slow-burning fire shifted; shaking the loosened memories out of his head, he sat up straighter, focused on what he could see, ears keened to detect what he couldn't. Another shift, a soft rustle, a distinct press of needles in the dirt.
"Getting better," he said, settling back and trying to ignore the fact that there was a hammer to his heartbeat. "Your feet are still making too much noise."
DG's voice rang out to his right. "I don't know, I think I scared you."
"Never."
The outline of her slim, willowy body materialized, the opaque blackness dissipating into muted shadow. "Usually, when someone jolts upright like that -" She settled down next to him, her back nestled against the trunk of the tree he'd chosen, the weight of her arm along his the only proof she was there at all. Mimicking his position, she stretched her legs out in front of her, so that they created a ninety-degree angle with his own. It was the closest she gotten to him yet on her own volition, and he made no remark.
"I didn't jolt upright," was all he could mutter in defence.
"Right."
He sighed. "Can't sleep?"
There was soft swishing; he imagined her shaking her head, her loose, tumbling hair rubbing against the wool of her coat. "No, but you can't either, can you?"
"More like won't, I think."
A meek, albeit curious, voice returned to him. "Why not?"
He gave it a moment of thought. "Too much to consider, night like this." Would he tell her that he'd only been musing through his broken history, missing those long gone, and missing those close to him, beside him, as well? No, never. He wasn't about to give up all that he thought, all that he was, just because she'd decided to grace his lonely perch with her warm presence.
He turned his head as she raised her chin toward the sky. There were no visible stars, but he knew they burned bright beyond where his earthly eyes could see. "It's a nice night," she breathed. "I think I'm going to like summer in the O.Z."
"Nice enough," he admitted. She didn't respond, and was too still for his liking. Whatever was keeping her from sleep was going to keep him from it as well, unless he worked out of her what was eating away at her conscience - not that it was all that difficult to guess. "Seems like you got some talkin' to do."
"Do I?"
He smirked. "Don't take a Viewer's gift to see that you're bothered by something."
"Only a Tin Man's intuition, I guess."
"Hardly; were that the case, I'd tell you that you're vexed over what the zipperhead told you."
"He's not a zipperhead," she said in vehement defence.
Not to be put off, he replied, "And I'm not a Tin Man, and you're not a kid, are you? Now quit trying to give me the run-around."
She blew out a breathy chuckle. "Glitch said, 'out of sight, out of mind'."
"Seems to be the consensus."
"It makes no sense," she said with her usual monotony. "I'm not safer. If my mother is worried about my safety, why am I out here, in the middle of nowhere, without an armed escort? And you don't count."
Cain smiled into the darkness. "The four of us make for a pretty decent team, kid, can't deny that."
Another short, quiet laugh. "If they're worried about kidnapping, or murder, why -"
"Resistance doesn't have that kind of mobilisation," he said, cutting her off before she delved too deeply into what could happen. "Small factions, no real leadership. It's why they'd want you, if they really do."
"You don't think they do?"
He cleared his throat. "Don't know if I do or not. Seems a lot of fuss over nothin', but there's a lot I don't know."
"I don't need to know everything to know we're running from nothing," she said with conviction. "And I wouldn't have cared two months ago. Hey, vacation, not something to complain about. Now, my mom -" Her voice hitched. "There's no danger in the O.Z. worth leaving her for."
"DG." There was no judging her face in this dark, no reading her eyes; he was literally stumbling through this blind. He'd been prepared for anger, not sorrow.
"Wouldn't you rather be with Jeb now, instead of out here babysitting?"
Cain didn't answer right away, carefully weighing the virtues and shortcomings of both the right answer and the honest one. In the end, coward that he was, avoidance won out. "If I recall correctly, Jeb has never once asked me for my help," he said. "You did."
"I did not ask you for your help," she said forcefully. "Ambrose asked for it; my mother asked for it. I did not, ever -"
"There's a boost to my confidence."
She softened, even if it was only in the slightest. "I was waiting for you to come back on your own."
Her gentle admission caught him off-guard, humbling his pride. "I didn't realize, kiddo."
Ever so gradually, she turned her body toward his; her hand found his in the darkness. When she entwined their fingers, the boldest of gestures considering, he didn't fight it, didn't move, didn't stop her. Her palm was warm, her fingertips cold.
In the quietest voice, she asked, "How could you?"
The question, and all its implications, kept him awake that night, long after she'd left his side and gone to sleep.
Author's Note: Thank you again to all my readers. I know my update schedule is sporadic (re: horrible). I can promise exciting things are coming (soon). Leave me one, if you are so inclined. :)
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain, DG, Glitch, Raw (appearances by: Jeb, Tutor, Lavender, Azkadellia, Ahamo)
Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: 14+ (subject to change)
Summary: The fade to black was merely the blink of an eye. Respite for only seconds. After all, the road is long.
Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
When Last We Met: On the Route to Finaqua, leaving the threat of the New Resistance and a dying Lady Lavender behind in Central City, Cain is attempting to maintain his tenuous grip on DG's trust. With no news, only promises, the four heroes continue south.
Chapter Ten: Fireside
The way Cain remembered things, nightfall in the O.Z. had a way of taking its sweet time, especially in early summer. By the time the group had left the orderly rows of the orchards behind them, the afternoon light was beginning to take on a faded, hazy quality. Even after they'd been swallowed up by the shadows of the forest beyond the Fields of the Papay, the shafts of sunslight breaking through the thick canopy of broad leaves were pale and filtered through with dust and insects.
Cain pushed them until the temperature began to shift, an almost imperceptible nip to the air as the suns sank lower in a sky that he couldn't see. While he was certain that Glitch was carrying a timepiece, he wasn't about to ask after it; though he tried his best to gauge the day's progress from his last glimpse of the suns before entering the woods, it was all guesswork, and shoddy at that. When he took them off the road, far enough that the flames of a small fire would go unnoticed, it was probably much earlier in the evening than he'd intended, but then again, he hadn't really intended on stopping for the night in the first place.
"Shouldn't we be making for the Crack? Put it behind us before dark?" Glitch asked, with no real interest; he was the first one dismounted when Cain had found a spot deemed worthy enough to spend the night.
"Not unless you wanna be explaining to Route Patrol what we're doing crossin' the gorge this late," Cain said, alighting carefully to favour his aching legs. "With the princess, no less."
DG, from the perch of her saddle, looked confused. "They don't know we're coming?"
"Route Patrol don't," he said, "though they're expectin' us down south."
'Least I hope they are, he thought, but he kept such darknesses to himself. Truth was he didn't know much of anything at all when it came to what was ahead of them and what they'd left behind. Were the only people aware of their departure Azkadellia and DG's parents? Or was the entire palace of Finaqua awaiting them, turning down sheets and opening windows to bright southern sunslight, eager to have their saviour princess come to stay? In any event, there wasn't much could be done but keep heading as they had been, and worry about Route Patrol - and the Finaqua guard - when they came to it.
With the avoidance of conversation still at the fore, they stumbled awkwardly through their first evening together. Cain built a fire; darkness fell; supper, stories, silence.
The clearing in which they rested was well-protected by the ancient, sleeping trees; beyond the canopy, he was certain the stars blazed on. The fire popped and snapped, sending sparks flying skyward in poor imitation, the glow dying quickly in the cold. The quiet of the day seemed to be finally, slowly, loosening its grip on their spirits. There was still very little to say, but the small noises of companionship - mumbled thanks, scattered words, sighs and laughter - were enough to help Cain relax. He even managed to forget, for a few short minutes, that he was supposed to be keeping a close eye on DG.
He kept expecting her to start blurting out questions. It wasn't like her to sit and chew her lip - he could see the slight press of her teeth even in the weak firelight - not when he knew there were things on her mind needed talking over. That she'd learned to curb her curiosity wasn't something that left him feeling wholly secure in his understanding of her; if she couldn't ask, then she wouldn't tell what she was thinking when the time came, and that was usually the time he regretted not tying a bell 'round her neck.
Raw was having a hard time keeping his attention off DG, as well; every sideways glance he stole at her was accompanied by a frown, or slow head shake. If Cain could feel the tension radiating off the kid, he sure as hell didn't envy the Viewer the gift of heartsight, no sir. Every time DG restlessly shifted her position, her gaze never leaving the flames at the centre of the circle they created, he watched as Raw squirmed just as uncomfortably.
Honestly, he didn't want to interfere. If she wasn't going to speak up, he was more than prepared to just let her stew. Better to let her know everything once they were safe in Finaqua; he was determined that she had to know, because he'd rather have a palace full of guards at his back, ready to keep her where she was supposed to be if any flighty ideas suddenly planted themselves in her brain. Then again, his first night back in Central had seen her escape the palace security fences by turning herself to shadow.
Maybe he was just a plain, old coward; too worried about shielding her from what would only hurt. It was their first three days all over again, swallowing back the knowledge that he'd been tailing a Gale, a princess, and a dead one at that. There'd been no time, no words, not even the sense of obligation, least not to her, just the word he'd given, that had been his only truth then. She was just a kid on a mission, not to save the O.Z. but to find her mother, a babe in the woods and she wasn't his problem - until she was.
That was all behind them; a lifetime behind, felt like, though he wasn't sure his companions shared this sentiment. As he glanced at the others around the fire, more at ease than he'd seen any of them since they'd reunited, he realised that, despite the unnecessary situation he'd found himself in, he was happier now than he'd been since...
Huh.
Well then, wasn't that something.
He smirked at his own inability to remember the last time he'd felt this kind of peace, and it was then that he caught DG watching him, her face pale and strange in the firelight. He shifted his position until he was sitting atop the deeply-bedded rock he'd been using as a backrest; he took his hat off, placing it on the forest floor beside him. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and only then did he look DG in the eye. She'd watched his every purposeful movement, but when his eyes met with hers, she sat up straighter, ready under fire. And while he had caught her attention, she drew the attention of the others; while she watched him, they watched her.
Enough of this dancing around inevitability. As far as he saw it, the sooner he knew what was flying through that mind of hers, the better.
"So, do you wanna tell us what exactly you were going on about this afternoon?" he asked, giving her a chance. "You said in the fields that something wasn't right."
The rigidity went out of her spine, and she slumped a little, hesitant to answer.
Glitch spoke up. "The fields are just creepy. Puts a chill in the heart, and those runners were getting close! Isn't that right, DG?" He thought he was coming to her rescue.
"Always pass through same field," Raw said. "Never changes."
"No, it is different," DG said, though she didn't elaborate. "That's not what I meant. The fields are - the fields are fine, okay?"
"You could've fooled me," said Glitch, unconvinced.
Cain snorted despite himself. "That ain't hard."
"DG not lying," Raw said; his face was as solemn as it came. "Fields are - are right." It wasn't often that Cain saw the Viewer struggle with human language, a faltered search for the word to describe feelings that ran deeper and more pure than Cain could ever hope to experience.
"Well, if it wasn't the fields that had you spooked, what was it?" Cain asked. He watched for her reaction carefully, but she gave no discernible response; the same unremarkable expression, detachment perfected.
"It was the fields, but it was something else, too," she said. "I've still got half a mind to turn around and go back to Central City, all right? I don't want to be out here, I want to be at home."
Cain's answer was quick, and poorly phrased. "You aren't the only one, kiddo."
"Then why are we out here?" It was an honest question, a bare-laid and brutal question.
"Your mother just wants you kept safe, DG," Glitch said, trying to keep his voice light, to protect her from the idle threat and the possibility that this was all just the deathbed whim of a fallen queen, a failed mother.
"That's -" Sharply, she cut herself off; she went through the bitter motions of swallowing back the blackness on her tongue. She tapped her hands on the tops of her legs as she took a moment to sum up her thoughts. "That's not good enough," she said instead. "I'm safer where Az is, we're safest together." It was gospel to her, Cain could read it in her eyes, that stone-cold belief she'd been fed since infancy. Even after fifteen annuals as someone else, coming back to the Zone she'd built up from this cornerstone, perhaps the only remnant of her 'true' life.
"Your mother - and Azkadellia, I suppose, in her way - feel differently," Glitch said; there was a meekness to his voice, and Cain couldn't discern why that would be until suddenly DG was on her feet and replanting herself at Glitch's side, settled down on her knees close to the fire right before his eyes, effectively making herself the only thing the poor bastard could see.
"Okay, you know how this is going to go," DG said, all blue eyes and brass.
Glitch leaned back slightly; his own eyes widened, but for fear or surprise, there was no telling. "I -"
"I'm not safer in Finaqua," she said. "They want me out of Central City."
"Well -" Glitch's eyes flicked to Cain. For his part, Cain tried his best not to roll his own in return. This was the man who had withstood the Sorceress' interrogation so completely that she'd had to remove his brain to get what she wanted?
"Why do they want me out of Central City?" she asked him, slow and careful. Glitch remained silent, his eyes on hers now and never breaking, falling into the lessons of Ambrose, Cain supposed. DG leaned in closer, her profile disappearing from his vision as her hair fell over her shoulders. "Glitch, what's going to happen in Finaqua?"
"Nothing." The word was clipped, all truth and even DG knew it.
Raw stood, and moved to take a step closer to DG. He sensed something, something dangerous and worthy of putting himself in the way. DG, without turning, put a hand out to stop him, and he stalled in his tracks. From the edge of the campsite, forgotten by all of them, Cain watched. He was impressed with the girl, he couldn't deny it, and so he waited to put an end to it.
"Nothing," DG repeated, and she shook her head. "Then why can't I be in Central City? So there was a fight, I don't see -"
"It wasn't just a fight," Glitch said, sounding braver than he looked. "The men who instigated - well, the perpetrators were said to be - Great Gale, DG, don't you see -"
"Longcoats," Raw said quietly.
"I know that," she said, "Mr. Cain told me this morning before we left."
"I did," Cain spoke, giving Glitch a brief nod when he shot an unimpressed look across the fire.
With a sigh, Glitch gave up all pretence of secrecy; his shoulders slumped, and he let his head hang for a moment, perhaps to better allow him to gather his thoughts. Confident that she was now going to receive her answers, DG sat back and waited patiently. It was nothing short of amazing, how easily she could turn it on and off.
"There's no knowing how many recruits the resistance has seen," Glitch said after long moments of nothing but the whispering fire to fill the air. "They're deep underground, you have to understand, and more widespread across the realms than I care to imagine. Nowhere near the numbers of the former resistance, but it's still been enough to keep us awake at night."
"How many nights," DG wondered aloud, and Cain could still hear the acute sting in her voice, the hurt at being left in the dark.
"The point is," Glitch said, "that there's no knowing what their next move is going to be."
DG shook her head, refusing to believe she was running from fear of the unknown. "I'm safest with Azkadellia," she said again. "And she's safest with me! If there's danger, actual, real danger, then I should be with her. This is ridiculous -" She stood then, shooting up so fast Cain was surprised she didn't fall right back down on her bottom. She looked ready to bolt back to Central, darkness, Papay field, and all.
Glitch seemed to have come to the same conclusion. "DG, please sit. You can't go back."
Raw, still standing quietly, stopped wringing his hands long enough to reach for her again. "Please, DG." He winced when she refused to move. Instead, she put her hands on her hips, and leaned ominously over Glitch, who, again to Cain's wonderment, was not cowed. It was still hitting him hard, and unexpectedly, how much they had changed and strengthened, and how much they had stayed the same.
"Why did my mother send me away." Her demand, not a question, hung in the air long after she'd finished it; Glitch wordlessly stammered, and Raw's hand fell out of the air and stayed helplessly at his side. Cain - well, he remained where he was. There was nothing else for him to do.
DG shook her head. "You know," she said to none of them in particular, useless as they were, "I've put up with a lot. Really, I have. I don't want to sound ungrateful, but saving the world was a pretty thankless job, and I've done everything after it without ever asking why, and I'm not going a step further until someone explains to me what I'm doing it for." With that, she went back to her spot, settling with her back against a tree and her arms wrapped around her knees. So determined was her stand that Cain found himself believing her.
Not your business to tell her, Wyatt, keep your damned mouth shut.
Minutes marched past with traitorous consistency. The flames ate away at the thick deadfall that gave it life, slowly reducing it to broken, glowing coals. Ash flew in the air now with each combustion, fewer and far between. To break the spell, Cain added more felled branches, banking it up for the night. He kept his eyes down, trying to ignore the nervous twitching of Raw's leg, or Glitch's hands worrying at his pant legs, or DG's utter stillness. None of it pointed to this ending easily.
Eventually, Glitch cleared his throat, a superficial gesture, a place to begin. "There's no danger from the Longcoats - not from the New - not without -" He stalled and started, stalled again. A poor font of knowledge, but the only one they had. "You're out of Central City. Out of sight, out of mind."
DG's brow knit together, confusion and anger, always a volatile combination. "What -"
Cain, growling, had finally had enough. "It means that there's no chance of the resistance getting to you, turning you against your sister."
DG shook her head. "That's insane," she said, lips staying parted in disbelief.
"Not really," Cain said, saving Glitch from her line of fire. He stood up, brushing ash off his hands. "Not everyone around you believes in your sister as much as you do. What with your mother being sick, well, it changes the perspective a bit."
"Yours?" she demanded.
He exhaled hard, and raised his chin. "No. Don't ever ask me that again. I mean it, princess."
Blushing, she looked away.
Hours later, Wyatt was the only one awake.
He sat at the farthest edge of the campsite, his back to a stout tree and the chill summer night all around him. His advantage of a small slope allowed him to see the silhouettes of the others, curled in their sleeping rolls around the fire; the dim glow of the deep-heart embers illuminated little more than small glimpses of fair flesh, peeking out from collar, sleeve, or blanket.
Sleep was coming slowly to him, but he was already beginning to feel its gradual pull, and had since been considering moving back down the rise to the minimal comfort of his bedroll. The light breeze already seemed intent on lulling him to sleep, playing through the whole of the forest with gentle precision. Summer nights like this... he remembered them with such clarity, spots of brilliance in his sepia memory. Adora and Jeb, his mother and sisters, lives long gone or lost to him through the tick of iron and clockwork.
Ghosts kept him awake, whispers in the trees wove cobwebs in his eyes. A battle waged inside his body, and the victor was yet undetermined; while he waited, he kept his thoughts trained on the night around him, the memories that wanted to seep inside his blood like creeping cold. Fighting them off was easier said; with no distraction, he was at the mercy of whatever his mind threw at him.
White dress, ash leaves, yellow ribbons and muddy water; blue eyes and brown ones, wide and scared, dead eyes; rain and snow, one endless grey day, trapped forever in grey, yellow ribbons, blood-stained yellow ribbons; a smile, gentle and reserved, a lady's smile, but now it was all shiny, happy teeth and pink lips, hard-coaxed and hard-won -
The shadows near the slow-burning fire shifted; shaking the loosened memories out of his head, he sat up straighter, focused on what he could see, ears keened to detect what he couldn't. Another shift, a soft rustle, a distinct press of needles in the dirt.
"Getting better," he said, settling back and trying to ignore the fact that there was a hammer to his heartbeat. "Your feet are still making too much noise."
DG's voice rang out to his right. "I don't know, I think I scared you."
"Never."
The outline of her slim, willowy body materialized, the opaque blackness dissipating into muted shadow. "Usually, when someone jolts upright like that -" She settled down next to him, her back nestled against the trunk of the tree he'd chosen, the weight of her arm along his the only proof she was there at all. Mimicking his position, she stretched her legs out in front of her, so that they created a ninety-degree angle with his own. It was the closest she gotten to him yet on her own volition, and he made no remark.
"I didn't jolt upright," was all he could mutter in defence.
"Right."
He sighed. "Can't sleep?"
There was soft swishing; he imagined her shaking her head, her loose, tumbling hair rubbing against the wool of her coat. "No, but you can't either, can you?"
"More like won't, I think."
A meek, albeit curious, voice returned to him. "Why not?"
He gave it a moment of thought. "Too much to consider, night like this." Would he tell her that he'd only been musing through his broken history, missing those long gone, and missing those close to him, beside him, as well? No, never. He wasn't about to give up all that he thought, all that he was, just because she'd decided to grace his lonely perch with her warm presence.
He turned his head as she raised her chin toward the sky. There were no visible stars, but he knew they burned bright beyond where his earthly eyes could see. "It's a nice night," she breathed. "I think I'm going to like summer in the O.Z."
"Nice enough," he admitted. She didn't respond, and was too still for his liking. Whatever was keeping her from sleep was going to keep him from it as well, unless he worked out of her what was eating away at her conscience - not that it was all that difficult to guess. "Seems like you got some talkin' to do."
"Do I?"
He smirked. "Don't take a Viewer's gift to see that you're bothered by something."
"Only a Tin Man's intuition, I guess."
"Hardly; were that the case, I'd tell you that you're vexed over what the zipperhead told you."
"He's not a zipperhead," she said in vehement defence.
Not to be put off, he replied, "And I'm not a Tin Man, and you're not a kid, are you? Now quit trying to give me the run-around."
She blew out a breathy chuckle. "Glitch said, 'out of sight, out of mind'."
"Seems to be the consensus."
"It makes no sense," she said with her usual monotony. "I'm not safer. If my mother is worried about my safety, why am I out here, in the middle of nowhere, without an armed escort? And you don't count."
Cain smiled into the darkness. "The four of us make for a pretty decent team, kid, can't deny that."
Another short, quiet laugh. "If they're worried about kidnapping, or murder, why -"
"Resistance doesn't have that kind of mobilisation," he said, cutting her off before she delved too deeply into what could happen. "Small factions, no real leadership. It's why they'd want you, if they really do."
"You don't think they do?"
He cleared his throat. "Don't know if I do or not. Seems a lot of fuss over nothin', but there's a lot I don't know."
"I don't need to know everything to know we're running from nothing," she said with conviction. "And I wouldn't have cared two months ago. Hey, vacation, not something to complain about. Now, my mom -" Her voice hitched. "There's no danger in the O.Z. worth leaving her for."
"DG." There was no judging her face in this dark, no reading her eyes; he was literally stumbling through this blind. He'd been prepared for anger, not sorrow.
"Wouldn't you rather be with Jeb now, instead of out here babysitting?"
Cain didn't answer right away, carefully weighing the virtues and shortcomings of both the right answer and the honest one. In the end, coward that he was, avoidance won out. "If I recall correctly, Jeb has never once asked me for my help," he said. "You did."
"I did not ask you for your help," she said forcefully. "Ambrose asked for it; my mother asked for it. I did not, ever -"
"There's a boost to my confidence."
She softened, even if it was only in the slightest. "I was waiting for you to come back on your own."
Her gentle admission caught him off-guard, humbling his pride. "I didn't realize, kiddo."
Ever so gradually, she turned her body toward his; her hand found his in the darkness. When she entwined their fingers, the boldest of gestures considering, he didn't fight it, didn't move, didn't stop her. Her palm was warm, her fingertips cold.
In the quietest voice, she asked, "How could you?"
The question, and all its implications, kept him awake that night, long after she'd left his side and gone to sleep.
Author's Note: Thank you again to all my readers. I know my update schedule is sporadic (re: horrible). I can promise exciting things are coming (soon). Leave me one, if you are so inclined. :)
Table Of Contents
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Six - Seven - Eight - Nine - Ten
Eleven - Twelve - Thirteen - Fourteen - Fifteen
Sixteen - Seventeen - Eighteen - Nineteen - Twenty
Twenty One - Twenty Two - Twenty Three - Twenty Four - Twenty Five
Twenty Six - Twenty Seven - Twenty Eight - Twenty Nine - Thirty
Thirty One - Thirty Two - Thirty Three - Thirty Four - Thirty Five
Thirty Six - Thirty Seven - Thirty Eight - Thirty Nine - Forty