"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: On the final night of their journey south, DG leads her friends into the empty plains that separate her from her destination, the southernmost tip of the Outer Zone, where she hopes to find the guardian, Glinneth. Cain, dreading most what will be found upon their arrival, barely takes a moment to consider the aftermath of what will come.
Chapter Twenty Five: … And Beyond
In the four hours that Cain had been gone, the others had been busy. After building a small fire, they'd fished a decent string of perch out of the creek, and had proceeded to clean and cook them. Upon his return, he found Glitch waiting up for him as the others slept nearby. Grinning ear-to-ear, the proud angler presented Cain with his supper, and while the unseasoned pure-white perch, kept warm by the fire, were undeniably good, his mouth had been stabbed by so many sharp, fine bones as to cause him to turn down a second helping. The hot food, coupled with the long ride, was enough to weight his eyelids, and he went to sleep near enough to DG that he'd be the first thing she saw when she awoke.
As he slept, he dreamed; of DG, of gingham checks that matched her eyes. Lavender, fine and sound, far-placed and forgotten. He was jolted awake by the girl's hand on his arm, real and solid, and a sympathetic frown. Time to go.
The suns had gone down. With only a few hours of decent light left, they hurried to get back on the road. Toto barked at them from the opposite bank as, one by one, they forded the shallow stream on horseback. Once again, they headed into the depths of the forest, leaving their quiet meadow refuge behind. He didn't look back; he wasn't so sure about the others.
Twilight was thick under the trees, and though it meant he'd forfeited sleep, he was glad they'd left early enough. While the road was clear of obstructions, but for the overhang of branches, the way became gradually steeper, and in the utter dark the road would have been downright treacherous. He set a fast pace and the others kept it well enough, following behind him single file, the mutt ignoring the protocol of the narrow path and running where he pleased.
An hour passed, and the light faded; another hour passed, and evening began to descend in a blue haze. Once the light had failed them altogether, he didn't hurry them; it wasn't much longer before the trees began to recede back away from the road, leaving the sky wide open above them.
Night was falling fast, the stars kindling before his eyes when finally, finally, the ground began to even, the trees thinned and then all too suddenly they found themselves coming out of the forest into a stretch of parkland. He imagined that in the brightest light of the afternoon suns, this place would've been a canvas of brilliant spring colours, but all his eyes could see was grey. Out of the shade of the trees, the night abated, albeit slightly, and they were given reprieve from the growing dark, long enough at least to gather their thoughts while they took a short rest. Dark would be full upon them again by the time they set back out.
"We need to bear east, a few degrees at most." He heard Glitch talking to DG. A quick glance showed them standing close together, and his arm was raised, fingers stretched out toward the starry sky. "The tip of the Wizard's Cane points to celestial south, do you see? So we'll know if we're heading too far east. By dawn we'll be able to see - well, whatever it is there is to see."
Cain frowned, but managed to mind his own tongue. A sudden drop and the sandsea churning beneath was all he could think to find when the world ran out beneath them.
"What's with the face?"
He snapped back to immediate focus. "What?"
DG was walking toward him, a half-smile quirking her lips into an odd shape. "You shouldn't be thinking so hard. My job, remember?"
"Tryin'."
She seemed satisfied with his answer, but her smile disappeared all the same. "What do you think we can expect?" she asked, staring out into the silhouetted darkness.
"Not much of anything," he said, his eyes caught up with the emptiness of the night beyond their tight knot. The stars offered reassurance, guidance, but their light was faint and it did little more than distinguish between the sky and earth. "At least, not much more than you're seeing right now. We'll pick up the pace once the moons rise."
"How long, do you -"
He stopped her; he wasn't about to bind himself to estimations. "I don't know, darlin'."
Put out now, she said, "So we get there when we get there. Just great." He was certain that if her face were suddenly cast with light, he'd see a pout fit for a princess. For one fleeting moment, he was given a glimpse of the fiery, brazen nature she tried so hard to shut away, hidden behind her well-worn mask of passive detachment. She'd loosed that temper on him that night in Ammenium, a lashing fury brought out by the consuming force of her despair. Running from the resistance, running from the shadows of her guilt. He'd held her, soaked and shaking, unwilling yet to give her what she was unwilling to ask for.
Past now, not forgotten. Ignored, or perhaps just overlooked. She didn't need his arms now; her own two feet would serve her, at least for a little while. There was pride enough for her in him to drown out the echoes of regret.
She wandered away when it became apparent that she wasn't going to get a rise out of him. All the words he hadn't said felt heavy and bitter on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back best as he was able. He didn't begrudge her this closeness she desired from him, the presence of his voice and body and breath. She sought out the others in turn, seemingly just the same. No, not just the same, and he sensed, down to his very core, that he wasn't the only one who knew the difference. He only had to glance up and catch their eyes as they darted away to know that his companions could see, plain as day, the difference. If DG was aware, she made no move, gave no word. For her sake, he hoped her oblivious to the weight of those sad, sombre stares.
In the end, however much he wished it, he wasn't. When they mounted again, Toto bounding ahead and DG following the furrow he'd made in the tall grass, Glitch managed to hang back. It was too dark to read his eyes, but the frown on his lips was clear.
"Cain -"
He wasn't in the mood. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not."
"You can't avoid this forever."
"I can with you."
Glitch's teeth sunk into his bottom lip, a flash of white in the night. "You know, Cain -"
"No," he said gruffly, meaning for that to be the end of it. "I don't know. Now, if you'd kindly." And with that, he put his heels to his horse and headed off to catch up with the others.
The moons rose up out of the northeast over the mountains, one, then two, lesser reflections of the twins that ruled the day; their wan light chased the deepest of the shadows, gave shape to the plains that spread out endlessly to the south. And for what purpose? Grass, that was all he saw, all there was to see. Every blade captured that poor, pale light, tossing it on ahead until everything before him seemed awash with glimmering white, a vast, moving sea through which they waded.
The wind seemed a living thing out here, and it unnerved Cain more than he cared ever admit; he took no comfort in it. There were no great gusts to rush through the grasses, no deafening blusters to overpower his thoughts. Whispers across the plain, that's what he heard, hinting all the while at deeds left unfinished, a future not yet written. The wind knew of their coming, it seemed, and presented them with no reassurances. They would find their own way, the wind would not lead them.
As the miles melted away, so too did any talk - soon, there wasn't a word from any of his companions. Even Glitch had fallen silent, and it wasn't hard for Cain to guess what kept him so quiet. His heart was growing heavier with every mile, just as DG's was, and no small wonder, even to Cain, that the man had been able to keep his spirits up for so long. There were no smiles now, no wayside knowledge, no jests or laughter.
Truly, it was a desolate place.
Hour upon hour, they followed the stars south. The moons, set upon their predestined path, made certain the way was lit for the girl, as if doomed and duty-bound to help her along the way as they'd never done for her before. How many moonless nights had passed them by since leaving Finaqua? How many more would follow on the long road home?
As often as he dared, he stopped them to rest, thinking less on the horses and more on killing the hours that stood between him and the dawn. When a glint in the distance marked a small, stagnant pond, he broke the straight line they'd travelled thus far to make for it. The water was flat, almost warm, but if it was good enough for the horses, it was good enough for him, and he bid the others fill their canteens. DG grumbled about stopping again but her mutterings did not raise in volume for all the unhappiness he could read upon her face by moonlight.
He did his best not to smile. She noticed.
"How long until morning?" she asked, and he knew full well she'd bitten back more than a few choice words before settling on what she said.
"A few hours yet."
DG looked out toward the distant horizon. If she'd been expecting it to change because of sudden interest, she'd be sorely disappointed. She didn't bother to hide her frown.
"We'll get there, darlin'."
She sighed, but the sound was lost as a great gust of warm summer wind flattened the grass around them. It picked up her hair, tossing it about her face so that she was forced to reach up and brush it out of her eyes. Didn't she notice that the entire plain had sighed with her, felt her frustration and despair, called out to her? No, she was too focused on her destination, not how she was meant to get there, and -
And he was thinking far too hard on it. He shook his head.
"Hey, Wyatt?"
"Yeah." He didn't look at her, but left his eyes on that dark horizon. The wind didn't pick up again, just played about them, rustling through the grass like the ghosts of the long dead.
"Thank you."
So simple, so honest. His head shot up, his eyes meeting with hers.
"I haven't -"
The smile she gave him was sad as she held up a hand to cut him off. He took a better look at her, reminding himself how old her eyes could seem when she grew thoughtful like this, when her words and hands held more wisdom than should be right for a girl of her age. Sometimes, it didn't seem right to call her a girl at all.
"Yes, you have. Don't pretend, okay?"
Stiffly, he nodded. She left him bewildered, seeking out the others as she always did after cornering him with some truth he hadn't thought she'd ever have the nerve to voice. They were her shield, as much as that curious impassivity she wore as a cloak day in and day out. He wouldn't have minded so much if she'd stop turning his thoughts around on him.
Thank you, she'd said. Yes, you have, she'd said.
Damn him.
Don't pretend.
Damn him to the deepest circle of -
He got them moving again then, pressing them harder than he had all night. There was nothing for it, really, as they headed to the end of their road and beyond; together, they scrabbled for purchase on a slope too steep, knowing the drop inevitable, dreading the fall, frightened of the unknown that spread out below, reaching up to embrace them. Cling to each other or fall alone, there was no changing what was to come. Behind him, before him, the empty prairie reached on into forever with a certainty that men could never hope to find. The land knew, and it knew well.
Mile upon mile. Star after star. But this place was not eternal, and time did not stand still. He could feel his exhaustion creeping up the back of his neck, seeping into his bones even as the first white light appeared on the horizon, far to the east. A streak of light, the coming of the dawn. He noticed it long before the others, long before DG said, "It's almost morning."
Morning's been sneaking up on you, darlin', he thought with dismay. No one reined their horses to get a better look at the paleness of dawn burning beyond the darkness. The light followed them as the world grew to grey, and in the brightening, he caught the first glimpse of the silhouette in the distant south, while all the others kept their eyes on the light in the east.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he heard DG say.
His eyes weren't on the thin, shining streak of dawn. He wondered how long it would take the others to notice the odd shadows marring the perfect line between earth and sky to the south. Nothing more than an inconsistency on the horizon for now, to be sure, but the heaviness that settled down in his chest left no room for doubt. Their destination was drawing near, so close now as to be within his sight.
And for the first time since leaving Finaqua - no, for the first time since the night in the tower, the night the war ended amid the smoke and blasts and sheer panic, for the first time, Wyatt Cain could say he was well and truly afraid of what was to come.
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, 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: On the final night of their journey south, DG leads her friends into the empty plains that separate her from her destination, the southernmost tip of the Outer Zone, where she hopes to find the guardian, Glinneth. Cain, dreading most what will be found upon their arrival, barely takes a moment to consider the aftermath of what will come.
Chapter Twenty Five: … And Beyond
In the four hours that Cain had been gone, the others had been busy. After building a small fire, they'd fished a decent string of perch out of the creek, and had proceeded to clean and cook them. Upon his return, he found Glitch waiting up for him as the others slept nearby. Grinning ear-to-ear, the proud angler presented Cain with his supper, and while the unseasoned pure-white perch, kept warm by the fire, were undeniably good, his mouth had been stabbed by so many sharp, fine bones as to cause him to turn down a second helping. The hot food, coupled with the long ride, was enough to weight his eyelids, and he went to sleep near enough to DG that he'd be the first thing she saw when she awoke.
As he slept, he dreamed; of DG, of gingham checks that matched her eyes. Lavender, fine and sound, far-placed and forgotten. He was jolted awake by the girl's hand on his arm, real and solid, and a sympathetic frown. Time to go.
The suns had gone down. With only a few hours of decent light left, they hurried to get back on the road. Toto barked at them from the opposite bank as, one by one, they forded the shallow stream on horseback. Once again, they headed into the depths of the forest, leaving their quiet meadow refuge behind. He didn't look back; he wasn't so sure about the others.
Twilight was thick under the trees, and though it meant he'd forfeited sleep, he was glad they'd left early enough. While the road was clear of obstructions, but for the overhang of branches, the way became gradually steeper, and in the utter dark the road would have been downright treacherous. He set a fast pace and the others kept it well enough, following behind him single file, the mutt ignoring the protocol of the narrow path and running where he pleased.
An hour passed, and the light faded; another hour passed, and evening began to descend in a blue haze. Once the light had failed them altogether, he didn't hurry them; it wasn't much longer before the trees began to recede back away from the road, leaving the sky wide open above them.
Night was falling fast, the stars kindling before his eyes when finally, finally, the ground began to even, the trees thinned and then all too suddenly they found themselves coming out of the forest into a stretch of parkland. He imagined that in the brightest light of the afternoon suns, this place would've been a canvas of brilliant spring colours, but all his eyes could see was grey. Out of the shade of the trees, the night abated, albeit slightly, and they were given reprieve from the growing dark, long enough at least to gather their thoughts while they took a short rest. Dark would be full upon them again by the time they set back out.
"We need to bear east, a few degrees at most." He heard Glitch talking to DG. A quick glance showed them standing close together, and his arm was raised, fingers stretched out toward the starry sky. "The tip of the Wizard's Cane points to celestial south, do you see? So we'll know if we're heading too far east. By dawn we'll be able to see - well, whatever it is there is to see."
Cain frowned, but managed to mind his own tongue. A sudden drop and the sandsea churning beneath was all he could think to find when the world ran out beneath them.
"What's with the face?"
He snapped back to immediate focus. "What?"
DG was walking toward him, a half-smile quirking her lips into an odd shape. "You shouldn't be thinking so hard. My job, remember?"
"Tryin'."
She seemed satisfied with his answer, but her smile disappeared all the same. "What do you think we can expect?" she asked, staring out into the silhouetted darkness.
"Not much of anything," he said, his eyes caught up with the emptiness of the night beyond their tight knot. The stars offered reassurance, guidance, but their light was faint and it did little more than distinguish between the sky and earth. "At least, not much more than you're seeing right now. We'll pick up the pace once the moons rise."
"How long, do you -"
He stopped her; he wasn't about to bind himself to estimations. "I don't know, darlin'."
Put out now, she said, "So we get there when we get there. Just great." He was certain that if her face were suddenly cast with light, he'd see a pout fit for a princess. For one fleeting moment, he was given a glimpse of the fiery, brazen nature she tried so hard to shut away, hidden behind her well-worn mask of passive detachment. She'd loosed that temper on him that night in Ammenium, a lashing fury brought out by the consuming force of her despair. Running from the resistance, running from the shadows of her guilt. He'd held her, soaked and shaking, unwilling yet to give her what she was unwilling to ask for.
Past now, not forgotten. Ignored, or perhaps just overlooked. She didn't need his arms now; her own two feet would serve her, at least for a little while. There was pride enough for her in him to drown out the echoes of regret.
She wandered away when it became apparent that she wasn't going to get a rise out of him. All the words he hadn't said felt heavy and bitter on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back best as he was able. He didn't begrudge her this closeness she desired from him, the presence of his voice and body and breath. She sought out the others in turn, seemingly just the same. No, not just the same, and he sensed, down to his very core, that he wasn't the only one who knew the difference. He only had to glance up and catch their eyes as they darted away to know that his companions could see, plain as day, the difference. If DG was aware, she made no move, gave no word. For her sake, he hoped her oblivious to the weight of those sad, sombre stares.
In the end, however much he wished it, he wasn't. When they mounted again, Toto bounding ahead and DG following the furrow he'd made in the tall grass, Glitch managed to hang back. It was too dark to read his eyes, but the frown on his lips was clear.
"Cain -"
He wasn't in the mood. "If it's all the same, I'd rather not."
"You can't avoid this forever."
"I can with you."
Glitch's teeth sunk into his bottom lip, a flash of white in the night. "You know, Cain -"
"No," he said gruffly, meaning for that to be the end of it. "I don't know. Now, if you'd kindly." And with that, he put his heels to his horse and headed off to catch up with the others.
The moons rose up out of the northeast over the mountains, one, then two, lesser reflections of the twins that ruled the day; their wan light chased the deepest of the shadows, gave shape to the plains that spread out endlessly to the south. And for what purpose? Grass, that was all he saw, all there was to see. Every blade captured that poor, pale light, tossing it on ahead until everything before him seemed awash with glimmering white, a vast, moving sea through which they waded.
The wind seemed a living thing out here, and it unnerved Cain more than he cared ever admit; he took no comfort in it. There were no great gusts to rush through the grasses, no deafening blusters to overpower his thoughts. Whispers across the plain, that's what he heard, hinting all the while at deeds left unfinished, a future not yet written. The wind knew of their coming, it seemed, and presented them with no reassurances. They would find their own way, the wind would not lead them.
As the miles melted away, so too did any talk - soon, there wasn't a word from any of his companions. Even Glitch had fallen silent, and it wasn't hard for Cain to guess what kept him so quiet. His heart was growing heavier with every mile, just as DG's was, and no small wonder, even to Cain, that the man had been able to keep his spirits up for so long. There were no smiles now, no wayside knowledge, no jests or laughter.
Truly, it was a desolate place.
Hour upon hour, they followed the stars south. The moons, set upon their predestined path, made certain the way was lit for the girl, as if doomed and duty-bound to help her along the way as they'd never done for her before. How many moonless nights had passed them by since leaving Finaqua? How many more would follow on the long road home?
As often as he dared, he stopped them to rest, thinking less on the horses and more on killing the hours that stood between him and the dawn. When a glint in the distance marked a small, stagnant pond, he broke the straight line they'd travelled thus far to make for it. The water was flat, almost warm, but if it was good enough for the horses, it was good enough for him, and he bid the others fill their canteens. DG grumbled about stopping again but her mutterings did not raise in volume for all the unhappiness he could read upon her face by moonlight.
He did his best not to smile. She noticed.
"How long until morning?" she asked, and he knew full well she'd bitten back more than a few choice words before settling on what she said.
"A few hours yet."
DG looked out toward the distant horizon. If she'd been expecting it to change because of sudden interest, she'd be sorely disappointed. She didn't bother to hide her frown.
"We'll get there, darlin'."
She sighed, but the sound was lost as a great gust of warm summer wind flattened the grass around them. It picked up her hair, tossing it about her face so that she was forced to reach up and brush it out of her eyes. Didn't she notice that the entire plain had sighed with her, felt her frustration and despair, called out to her? No, she was too focused on her destination, not how she was meant to get there, and -
And he was thinking far too hard on it. He shook his head.
"Hey, Wyatt?"
"Yeah." He didn't look at her, but left his eyes on that dark horizon. The wind didn't pick up again, just played about them, rustling through the grass like the ghosts of the long dead.
"Thank you."
So simple, so honest. His head shot up, his eyes meeting with hers.
"I haven't -"
The smile she gave him was sad as she held up a hand to cut him off. He took a better look at her, reminding himself how old her eyes could seem when she grew thoughtful like this, when her words and hands held more wisdom than should be right for a girl of her age. Sometimes, it didn't seem right to call her a girl at all.
"Yes, you have. Don't pretend, okay?"
Stiffly, he nodded. She left him bewildered, seeking out the others as she always did after cornering him with some truth he hadn't thought she'd ever have the nerve to voice. They were her shield, as much as that curious impassivity she wore as a cloak day in and day out. He wouldn't have minded so much if she'd stop turning his thoughts around on him.
Thank you, she'd said. Yes, you have, she'd said.
Damn him.
Don't pretend.
Damn him to the deepest circle of -
He got them moving again then, pressing them harder than he had all night. There was nothing for it, really, as they headed to the end of their road and beyond; together, they scrabbled for purchase on a slope too steep, knowing the drop inevitable, dreading the fall, frightened of the unknown that spread out below, reaching up to embrace them. Cling to each other or fall alone, there was no changing what was to come. Behind him, before him, the empty prairie reached on into forever with a certainty that men could never hope to find. The land knew, and it knew well.
Mile upon mile. Star after star. But this place was not eternal, and time did not stand still. He could feel his exhaustion creeping up the back of his neck, seeping into his bones even as the first white light appeared on the horizon, far to the east. A streak of light, the coming of the dawn. He noticed it long before the others, long before DG said, "It's almost morning."
Morning's been sneaking up on you, darlin', he thought with dismay. No one reined their horses to get a better look at the paleness of dawn burning beyond the darkness. The light followed them as the world grew to grey, and in the brightening, he caught the first glimpse of the silhouette in the distant south, while all the others kept their eyes on the light in the east.
"Isn't it beautiful?" he heard DG say.
His eyes weren't on the thin, shining streak of dawn. He wondered how long it would take the others to notice the odd shadows marring the perfect line between earth and sky to the south. Nothing more than an inconsistency on the horizon for now, to be sure, but the heaviness that settled down in his chest left no room for doubt. Their destination was drawing near, so close now as to be within his sight.
And for the first time since leaving Finaqua - no, for the first time since the night in the tower, the night the war ended amid the smoke and blasts and sheer panic, for the first time, Wyatt Cain could say he was well and truly afraid of what was to come.
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