"Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run"
Title: Only Cowards Stay While Traitors Run
Author: Rissy James
Characters: Cain/DG, Glitch, Raw, Tutor (includes other major and minor characters)
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: After taking refuge from the rain in the village of Ammenium, Cain and DG seek out the locals to find out what's been happening in the Zone while they've been on the road. Instead, it comes to Cain's attention just how important their quest is to DG. Now they're back on the road, heading ever south.
Chapter Twenty Three: Surrender
The princess was quickly becoming a distraction. No, that wasn't right. She'd long been a distraction, forever pulling his thoughts off course; even in his mind, she didn't like taking tried and true roads, she wanted to drag him into the grass. And while long days on the road lent themselves to mental frolics, the sense of permanence he was beginning to feel had already started its slow, guilt-ridden consumption of his conscience.
She was an unrealised catalyst, forever underestimating her own worth. The day it dawned on her - well, he just hoped he had due warning.
He began to understand her a little better as they went south, finally breaking out of their semi-aimless wandering. She had purpose, and with it she could move forward. The rest believed in her purpose, whatever their personal interpretation of it, and that allowed them to follow her. Without destination, without guidance, all would fall to doubt, plagued by questions, and eventually their small fellowship would break and cease to be.
She sought the guardian. No goddess to answer the prayer of a sorrowful heart, but a witch to whom DG would go on bended knee. Why the begging of a sky-eyed princess would sway a being so hardened that she'd abandoned those she was meant to protect, Cain still didn't understand and would undoubtedly never understand. However, that wouldn't really matter in the long run, would it? He was just the gun-arm, after all. It was his job to stand by the door while the others did the talking, and patiently wait for the situation to turn.
It always turned, eventually.
A day on the road meant Finaqua was behind them, the wilderness clinging to the land negating the option of cutting cross-country, and so they followed the solitary road that ambled its way south, ignoring every branching path that tempted them astray. Cain had never known a forest so thick and tangled; during their afternoon rest on the second day, he'd broken from the others to venture into the brush. It was a tight squeeze where the trees grew closest together; the ground was littered with jagged stones erupting from the earth. Thrust skyward sometimes as high as his knee, draped with moss, damp and fetid. In the deepest crevices between stones, snow and ice gave cold testimony that the suns did not reach this place.
He'd left it behind, and quick. No one asked why he'd returned so pale and shaken; Raw had eyed him with piquing interest, and DG had merely closed her sketchbook and suggested they get back on the road.
The road. It stretched out too long, too far, too crooked. Shattered pieces of brick marked the age of their road, the wood around them. Who had cut this path, he wondered, laid brick so old that only fragments of it remained.
One night only was spent in the forest; by the end of their second day out of Ammenium, they'd reached the open prairie, the foothills of the Ruby Mountains looming far closer than he'd expected. A few extra hours under the clear evening sky had brought them to the trees at the base of the hills, and it was here they made a dry camp in relative comfort.
Not much was said that night; too many faces were pointed at the sky, taking in the stars and the thin wisps of cloud moving as shadows across them. Cain had slept soundly that night, nestled so far from prying eyes, inquisitive minds, uncertain intentions. If anything in those long-forgotten wilds wished him harm, he'd find himself faced with it on no pretence.
He awoke that morning before the others. The stillness of the grey dawn assuaged him. One by one, his friends opened their eyes to birdsong, and for those few glorious seconds before their faces darkened with tasks yet incomplete, Cain could almost believe there was still some peace left in the world.
The third day out of Ammenium, uncountable days out of Central City, the road began its gradual, but persistent, incline. Surrounded by trees they were again, farther south than any one of them had ever been. Raw had never seemed more content, his face the only one among them graced with a smile; Glitch had been slowing them down some, constantly dismounting to gather one specimen of flora or another, pressing what he found inside the pages of the few books he'd smuggled into his saddlebag from the Wellspring. The map of the Qualdin Basin, which marked the road they travelled on now, was folded into quarters and tucked into his vest pocket; he referenced it so often, the creases were already becoming soft and pliable.
Toto hadn't shifted into a two-legged standing position since they'd left the village. He'd once again taken up his unfortunate habit of scouting ahead, his small paws kicking up dirt and dead leaves as he tore through the underbrush just off the road. However, Cain found it difficult to even summon the annoyance he felt to the surface. It eased his burden, to have another pair of eyes on the lookout.
It was to have been a four day stretch on this unnamed road beyond the reaches of Finaqua, with two already behind them, but with the clear weather they were making good time. He held no worries about the passage through the mountains, his mood much improved even with such a small reassurance as a destination. He was driving the others now, and he knew it, but with no complaints thus far, there was no harm in pushing a little more. Two more days, and the mountains would be at their backs.
Another day and night after that, they'd reach the high cliffs of the Bur'zaen Overlook, the southernmost point of the Outer Zone. A place that had never been much more than words printed on a map to him. To Glitch, it was a name of forgotten importance. To Raw, a growing concern. To the mutt, Gods only knew.
To DG, though... to her, it was a beacon. It was where she'd go to chase her hope, and her insecurities. It was the end of the road, and after that, come answers or none, there was nothing else.
Cain could see the determination set in her jaw as she rode; they all could, plain as day. There was curiosity in her eyes, ever seeking the next crest, riding ahead around every blind corner in the road, despite a warning hissed through his teeth at her every single time. More than driven now, more than focused, bordering on an obsession he knew all too well in his own heart, one that he refused to let blacken her insides.
Such were his thoughts, his delusion that he could influence her so.
The others, however, fared with better luck than he; for the most part, when she wasn't falling into sullen silence, she and Glitch conversed easily, speaking on everything under the suns, and then some. Cain had never seen the headcase more rapt with delight than when he was listening to her describe something - anything - from the world she'd left behind. Such was Glitch's enjoyment of her stories that Cain found himself frequently wondering if he even noticed the tinges of wistful melancholy haunting the edges of ever word she spoke.
It was a bitter disease, nostalgia, one he'd been known to battle himself. He'd struggled some days by that lazy creek back east to keep memory from swallowing him whole, to keep the shadows in his mind from reclaiming what little he'd gotten back.
Would he have to keep a closer watch on her? He didn't know, didn't like the thought of it at all. He'd leave her to her bits and pieces of longing. He'd want no less for himself.
"They say that on a really clear day, you can see the beginnings of Bur'zae," Glitch said. "The trees are so tall, they can be seen from across the sandsea."
"They say," DG mused; the two were riding beside each other. "I've always wondered who they are."
"Very wise, very important, very opinionated persons," Glitch said, chuckling.
From his position a good ten yards behind them, Cain rode on in silence, comforted by their easy way with each other. For his part, he didn't mind his solitude; Raw was far enough ahead that he kept popping in and out of view with every twist and dip in the road. Toto, Cain hadn't seen in a few hours, at least, and that was beginning to nag at him enough that he had to suppress an urge to whistle for the damn mutt every time it crossed his mind.
It was growing dark. The suns had already sunk below the trees, the sky stained yellow and orange. Before long, the stars would begin to blink themselves into existence, shining white and strong against the waning day.
"So then it's not what they say, it's what you say," DG teased, and Cain could hear the smile in her voice.
"I resent that remark!" Glitch feigned offence well enough to near convince Cain it was real. It wasn't until he added moments later, "I'm hardly important," that Cain snorted a disbelieving laugh, and drew their attention towards him.
"What about you, then," Glitch said, sniffing loudly. "What do they say where you come from, Cain?"
Cain cleared his throat, keeping his mount's pace steady, the distance between himself and his companions never closing. "Nothing that I can recall."
"You've got no stories about where we're going?" DG asked.
"None," he said, and meant for that to be it.
The girl, of course, breezed right on past his broad reservations. "I'm a little disappointed."
"This is just Cain's way of admitting he slept through his schooling," Glitch said, trying once again to unseat Cain's calm. "Or maybe it's been so long that he just plain doesn't remember."
Cain smirked. "Either way, result's the same. Never had cause to learn about much so far from home. Someone used to tell me there was never a point lookin' beyond my own backyard."
"Would that someone happen to be a they?" Glitch pressed, still clearly under the impression that he was gaining the upper hand. The smug grin on his face, the brightness in his eyes, gave it all away.
"My mother," Cain said, and despite his self-assurance, he heard an edge in his own words, one that had a certain bite to it that ended the conversation. Glitch, the grin wiped away, only nodded, and muttered an, "Oh."
DG said nothing at all, but he thought he caught a glimpse of a real smile before she turned away and led her horse to catch up with Raw, far beyond where he could see her face, or hear her voice. Glitch, on the other hand, waited for Cain.
"I meant no offence," he said softly, easily.
"Don't start," Cain said, and waved him off. "I'm more concerned about where we spend the night."
"We should keep going until we come to a split in the road," Glitch said, and patted his vest pocket; a corner of the map stuck out like a parched yellow pocket square.
"We're losing light fast."
"Would you relax a little, Tin Man? It shouldn't be far."
Cain rolled his eyes, but said nothing, but it wasn't until the minutes began to slowly pass into an hour that he continued to bite his tongue. As the evening around them thickened, and the forest through which they travelled thinned, their small group tightened ranks, and Cain took the lead.
This part of the country hadn't seen the rain that had driven them to seek shelter in Ammenium; the road had grown dusty, and the grasses clumped on the wayside were brittle and dry. If they didn't come across water soon, they'd be going out of their way come morning to find it. The thought of delays - any, every - did nothing for Cain's mood.
Finally, more than an hour after Glitch's initial proclamation of shouldn't be far, the forest around them came to a sudden end, and they found themselves all at once under a deep, open sky dotted with weakest starlight. Before them stretched the ranges of the Ruby mountains, almost lost to them in the hazy blue twilight; black silhouettes dominating the horizon gave sobering insight to what yet lay ahead. Had they reached this vantage during the daylight hours, their eyes might have taken in a wide valley spread below, rocky but traversable, the road a crooked line disappearing into the distance. Above, the second path would be clear, winding its way up the high ridges overlooking the valley, the road cut along the top of the cliff, caught between impenetrable forest and an abrupt drop.
In the gloom, none of it could their eyes see, only the descending night.
"Well," Cain said, "which way."
"We go right," Glitch said quietly; the night was still, his voice carried. "We want to take the highroad."
"Why, where does the left road lead?" DG asked, standing in her saddle and craning her neck, as if it might help her see farther in the thickening dark.
"Down into the valley, where it ends," came the soft reply. "The map has a lake marked."
"Cliffs of Insanity it is then," DG muttered dejectedly. "Where are we going to stop for the night?"
"We'll find a place," Cain grunted, impatient to get everyone moving again. With hours yet until the moons rose, it was nigh impossible to think they'd just happen to stumble across a good spot to rest. Anywhere else in the Zone, he'd never consider making camp so close to a road, but this far south, days beyond the last refuge of the Realm of the Unwanted, he was just about willing to take the risk if it meant getting a bit of sleep for himself and the others.
One by one, the group dismounted and led their horses on foot; the steep path, from tree-line to cliff's edge, was no more than fifteen or twenty feet, and while he could no doubt trust his horse's sure footing, he felt better standing on his own. He kept them as close to the trees as possible without being whipped in the face every other step by spiteful spring branches. The others followed behind him, single file.
Night fell, and still they walked. After twenty minutes spent on the gradual climb, twisting and weaving where the road willed, the ground finally levelled. The winds picked up, cooling their bodies until they were all near shivering, exhausted from the hike up the ridge. At the top waited Toto, leaping and barking in a patronising way - that, at least, was how Cain figured it; never had he seen a dog as smug as the one yipping near his heels. However, Cain found himself slightly more grateful when Toto was able to lead them off the road, back into the woods; a small copse, clearing enough for them all.
Sensing that food and rest were now so tantalisingly close, the group fell into familiar routine. Glitch and Raw tended to the horses while Cain built a small fire, one that he planned on extinguishing before they went to sleep. While he worked, he listened to DG sigh and mutter over their supplies. He checked them over himself every morning; they'd be fine, though the girl's stomach no doubt disagreed with him.
Toto sat on a fallen log, presiding over the activity with his head cocked, his tongue hanging.
Darkness settled in for the night, and the remainder of their evening passed; they ate their fare cold, too eager to get it into their bellies to bother warming it by the fire. As was their habit, they kept to themselves, each minding their own. Glitch leaned back against a tree, whistling a low, slow tune; Raw sat near him, eyes closed as he listened. The mutt had settled down close to DG's feet near the fire and was passed out cold; she barely noticed him, flipping slowly through the pages of her sketchbook, studying them in the flickering light.
Cain watched the others from the shadows, his back to the chill that the darkness had brought. His mind was heavy, his thoughts far wandering from the watch he was meant to be minding. What threatened them here was far less than what they'd left behind, less even than the uncertainties they were marching toward.
There was nothing close to him that his thoughts did not touch down upon; his friends before him, his son somewhere about this vast country, Lavender lingering on in Central City, and both her daughters trying in their own vain ways to set things to rights again.
His musing, quiet and solitary as it was, soon outlasted his companions; first Toto, then Glitch, Raw, and DG in turn fell asleep. The soft, sad song, gone; so too the rustling of pages, the shuffling of feet. Only now the pop of the fire, the rush of sparks; the wind sighing through the boughs above their heads; his own steady heart.
Well past midnight, Cain stood, and walked toward the dying fire; he was about to stamp out the smouldering coals with his boot when her voice caused him to turn on her so fast , she scooted back a good few inches away from him. Sitting up in her bedroll, hand tangled in her hair, DG was eyeing him with bleary suspicion.
"What're you doing?"
Blood pumping, Cain near laughed out loud at his own excitability. "Not afraid of the dark, are you?"
"Can't you build it up again?" She sat up a little straighter, swiping the palm of her hand over her eyes, one at a time.
"Do you want me to?"
She shook her head mutely, lips pursed together. He watched her a moment before going back to his task, knowing that her eyes followed him in the coal glow until he'd kicked it out, and they were both thrown into black. It crossed his mind to hunker down, run a hand over her hair, smile though she couldn't see him, but such careless, misplaced thoughts were quickly cut off by the sharp, double edge of denial and doubt.
"Go back to sleep, kiddo," was all he could manage. Cain left her there beside the pit of cooling ashes and charred deadfall, going back to his own bedroll spread beneath a tree. It was one he'd chosen for its strange silver-stained bark, though little that choice mattered in the dead of night. He rested his back against it, tilted his head back to watch the sky, to catch glimpses of the moons through the branches and their new batch of summer green. Silently, he counted.
He'd made it past one hundred before he heard her moving carefully out of her warm cocoon; she was slow in coming toward him, each step measured and tested before executed, but not once did he hear her stumble, nor raise an undue amount of noise. She was learning, and for that he felt a certain amount of pride. Without speaking, he reached out and caught her hand in his own, to let her know just where he was. She settled down beside him, linking an arm through his and leaning her head against his shoulder.
"You shouldn't," he said, making no move to stop her.
"I know."
For a long while after that, she was quiet. What was running through her mind, he didn't dare venture a guess. There were too many words on the tip of his tongue for him to bother opening his mouth at all, so he accepted her silence, returned it, and waited.
She didn't disappoint. "Cain?"
"I thought we were past that," he said, gently as possible.
She turned her face into his sleeve. He swore he could hear her smiling. "Never." She took a deep breath, the tip of her nose still pressed into his duster. It was a long moment before she continued, her words muffled as she hid in him. "I don't know what's going to happen."
He smirked. "Never stopped you before."
"It should have."
"Listen," he said, then sighed. He pulled his arm from between them, and wrapped it around her waist to tug her closer. He'd had every intention of letting her go again, but once he was holding her, he found he didn't want to let her go so soon. In fact, his grip tightened at the very thought. "I told you before that we'd stop and go back if that was what you wanted."
She swallowed hard. "I know."
"But I think you're gonna see this through, Glinneth or no," he said firmly. "You're not one to get cold feet, and I'd be sorry to see you start now."
She sat up, bracing a hand against his chest. Even in the darkness, her smile was bright and obvious. "Are you actually encouraging me?"
"I might be."
Shamelessly, she stared at him; there was no wondering what she saw, if nothing more than the bridge of his nose, perhaps the outline of his jaw. The fingers of his free hand twitched to touch her face, to hold her as he had in the rain on that back road in Ammenium. He thought of her lips, how easy it would be to lean forward and pluck a kiss from her temperamental little mouth.
It hit him then just how much he wanted to. It was a jolt, that simple passing thought, enough to hitch his breath, stop his lungs for that one, vital moment.
Then, it passed. She sighed, settled back down against him, unaware of the shifting of mind and emotion within him. She gave a contented hum once all her squirming came to an end; why did the thought of her, comfortable against him, tear him apart so? The impossible weight inside of him refused to lessen, to let go. Trapped between the press of his conscience on every part of his being, and the sweet armful curled beside him, there was nothing for him but surrender.
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