Part 9

Ronan watched Zara with cautious eyes as she pulled the red cloak out of her bag and positioned it over her shoulders once more.

"You're really going to wear that thing? Even after what that siren said?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Zara rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to let the warning of an angry sea cow stop me from doing what I want." She didn't add that the cloak made her feel safe somehow, that it reminded her of a time when her life had been purposeful. Before she had met a certain Huntsman and agreed to lead him aimlessly around the dark forest. "Anyways, you should be more worried about how we're going to cross the Crimson Rill."

The corners of his mouth turned down. "I'm not even sure it's possible. I've never heard of anyone doing it."

"Because no one is as stupid as we are," she muttered, pulling out the map and finding Wintercliff. The Crimson Rill slithered through the forest like a poisonous snake. While she had never come far enough to see it with her own eyes, she knew it was as red as its name suggested. Legend said that the water had turned the color of blood after the first war, when there were so many bodies that no one had a choice but to dump them in the river and send them out to the sea.

"I've heard that just one touch will riddle your brains and turn you into a raving lunatic." Ronan added, peering over her shoulder at the map.

She could hardly concentrate with his looming presence behind her. He was much too close and radiating far too much heat. She folded the map and let out an impatient sigh before turning to face him. "Well I guess it won't have any effect on you then, will it?"

He looked momentarily surprised before giving her a taunting smile. "Your hostility doesn't work on me."

"That's unfortunate then," she mumbled. "Come on, while we still have some light."

They walked on for the rest of the day, stopping only once to refill their canteen from a small creek surrounded by moss covered rocks. Zara convinced herself it was safe due to the fact that nothing would choose to grow so close to anything tainted by dark magic. Even after the sun had set and the forest had grown cool, they kept on for a little while longer, using the thieves' wick to light the way.

This deep into the forest, Zara's hair was constantly standing on end and a feeling of foreboding was forever creeping down her spine. She imagined them being the first humans to wander so far from the boundary in decades. Whether that would make other creatures apprehensive of them or curious, she wasn't sure. She hoped, though, they would stay away. Unfortunately, magic was harder to hide from. She could feel it all around them, humming and buzzing.

Zara dropped her pack to the ground at the base of a towering tree with twisted, low hanging branches. "We'll camp here." If anything were to show up unannounced, they might be able to climb into the branches.

Ronan didn't disagree, nodding and dropping his own bag before setting about making a camp. They chose to start a small fire, in order to cook, and Zara felt as if they were sending a signal to anyone close by on where to find them. Like a lighthouse, only instead of warning ships of danger they were drawing the danger in. She stamped it out with her boot, much to Ronan's amusement, as soon as they were finished.

"Do you know anything else of the Crimson Rill?" he asked, as she sat down on her sleeping pad next to him.

She shrugged. "Only what's been told to me, and what's been passed down from legend. I remember one of my commanders saying that just a drop could release the darkest parts of you. You'd turn on everyone around you, convinced they were enemies. Even the most docile become bloodthirsty under its spell."

"And the cure?" he asked earnestly.

Zara shook her head. "If there is one, no one knows what it is. Maybe it fades, or maybe you stay that way forever. I don't know. I'd rather not find out, though."

"And there's no way around it?"]

"It crosses through the entire forest. The only way to the other side is to find a way over. There may be some remnants of a bridge left behind, although I doubt it. It's been so long since anyone needed to go to Wintercliff," Zara sighed.

Ronan chewed on his lower lip, looking contemplative and Zara wondered what he was thinking. She suddenly remembered the way she had felt under the siren's spell and ducked her head, hiding her face until she was certain her cheeks were no longer pink. He was handsome. Incredibly so. That was an undeniable fact. It didn't have to mean anything, though. How she'd felt under the spell hadn't been real. The want, the attraction...all fabricated.

Yet why was she trying so hard to convince herself of this?

"I can't give up. I can't leave her there," he finally said, looking at her with a pained expression and scattering her thoughts.

She nodded, realizing there was more that he wasn't telling her. Perhaps this princess wasn't as unfamiliar to him as he'd made it out to seem. It wasn't for just anyone that a person often put their life on the line. There was a moment when she felt a sting of jealousy, thinking that perhaps she was someone he loved. Someone he was in love with. The idea pained her, reminding her once again of her own loneliness.

"We won't give up." The idea of going back now, to a directionless existence, seemed impossible even in the face of so much danger. She would see this journey to the end, no matter the costs. Her mind was burning with questions, most known of her business. Yet there was one, she needed to ask, one that had been buzzing in her mind since the moment she had left Toby's shop. "Ronan?"

For a moment, she wasn't sure he had even heard her. There was faraway look on his face. She watched as he struggled to free himself from his thoughts before glancing at her. "Yes?"

She pulled her knees into her chest, trailing a finger through the dirt next to her sleeping mat. "Toby told me something about you."

"And you want to know if it's true," Ronan finished for her, a slight amused smile beginning at the corners of his lips.

She shrugged, trying to feign indifference. "Curiosity mostly. He said you were a part of the slaying of the Shadow Coven."

The smiled vanished. He suddenly looked much more tired. As if the memory were a physical weight he was constantly forced to drag around. "It's true. Not something I'm particularly proud of."

Zara lifted her eyes, not surprised that her information was correct. Toby hadn't been wrong yet. She wasn't sure what she had expected Ronan's response to be, but it hadn't been this. To her, he looked ashamed.

"I'm a Huntsman, Zara. I track, I hunt. I don't kill. Not humans anyways." He shook his head before casting her a look. "Don't misunderstand me. I know what they were. I knew it then and I haven't forgotten. Those women were evil. The things that they did..." He trailed off for a moment, losing himself in his memories before remembering where he was. "I just can't help but think there had to have been different way than that. Ambushing them, swords raised. There was less of them than us, yet somehow we lost more. That's what I saw with the reapers. That day."

She had gone very still as she listened. Ronan hadn't been her companion for long, but this was the most serious she had seen him. A little sliver of guilt wheedled its way into her thoughts. He had shared something with her that was clearly deep and scarring, yet she couldn't even bring herself to say Gray's name in front of him.

"Couldn't you have refused to go?" She asked.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Being a royal huntsman doesn't leave much room for disagreement, especially when you're answering to the king. Trust me."

"We've all done things we regret."

"I know. It's just finding a way to live with it," he sighed.

After that, the conversation dwindled and fell to a halt. Both lost inside their own heads. Awhile later, he mumbled a goodnight and laid down on his side.

Once again, she had the distinct feeling that there was more he wasn't telling. She reached for the lantern and turned it on, holding it on her lap and reminding herself she couldn't ask for more of Ronan's secrets when she couldn't even find it in her to tell him hers.

#

Time seemed to pass unevenly, sometimes sprinting by and other times dragging. She felt restless, despite knowing she needed to sleep. Her eyes flickered to Ronan's slumbering form before looking at his pack. Before she could change her mind, she was reaching out and pulling it towards her. She dug through it before finding the tiny leather-bound notebook. His father's journal. Curiosity had gotten the better of her. She had nothing of her own father's. Not even a name. Her mother had died shortly after she was born, and Gran had always clammed up quickly whenever Zara asked. Eventually, she stopped asking altogether.

The pages were old and yellowed, the ink resembling nothing more than unreadable smudges on some pages. She could only imagine the places the journal had visited. She flipped through the pages, pausing to read a hurriedly scrawled paragraph here and there. It seemed from his writing that the man had always been in a rush, or that his thoughts were coming too quickly for his hand to keep up.

She was reading about a particularly daring hunt he'd been on involving a search for a glove made of solid gold when she felt it. Zara went rigid, her pulse speeding up like a runaway carriage. Despite the fact that she knew she was sitting in darkness to anyone outside the glow of the lantern, she knew someone was watching her. The journal fell from her hands as she grasped at her sword and tugged it from the sheath.

"Ronan," she hissed to the sleeping man.

He slept on, blissfully unaware that they were suddenly very much not alone.

"Tsk, tsk, Zara. Let the poor man sleep. After all, it's the only respite he has from you." A cold, familiar voice reached her ears.

Her grip on her sword tightened as she stood, holding the lantern out in front of her. "Silas."

"In the flesh. Fancy seeing you here. You're a long way from home, my little Red Cape friend." A man suddenly emerged from the shadows, skin as white as fresh snow and a startling contrast to the red irises of his eyes. She'd only been in his presence half a dozen times before, but she could've stood before him hundreds of times and there would still be no getting use to the predatory power he exuded.

He paused, pale lips stretching into an irritating smirk. "Oh, wait. That's not right anymore, is it?"

"Cut the pleasantries. What do you want?" she asked the Nightwalker as he causally moved closer. She racked her brain, trying to remember the last time she'd seen him. She knew his clan lived closer to the boundary. So what he was doing suddenly standing in their camp made her equal parts suspicious and curious.

"Relax. I'm not here for dinner," His mouth stretched into an impish grin, clearly pleased at his own joke. "I'd rather not start a war. You humans are so touchy...criminals are a fair meal, anyone else though..." He shrugged.

She sighed impatiently. "Then what is it?"

The smile faded. "Don't think I've forgotten the debt I owe you. A life for a life. You saved mine, and now I'm here to save yours."

Her forehead wrinkled. "What do you mean?"

"You're being tracked. Ever since your arrival in Maran," Silas said in a hushed voice.

Zara shook her head, not entirely understanding. What kind of animal would stalk them for so long without making an attack? "By what?"

"Not by what, by whom. Ardon knows you're here, and he means to find you before you find him," Silas said. "Coming into this forest was not wise for you."

Zara's stomach had lurched at the sound of the wolf king's name. Her skin prickled with dread, recalling her incredibly vivid dream. It felt far from a coincidence now. She and Ronan hadn't told a soul their true mission, that they meant to find the wolves' lair. So how could Ardon possibly know they were coming for him? What other reason would he have for tracking them down?

"Of course not! It's not wise for anyone," Zara hissed, running a hand over her face before letting it fall limply to her side. "How would he even know we mean to find his lair?"

"Oh, I don't think he cares about that. He cares about finding you in particular." Silas shook his head. "I'm still trying to figure it out myself. There have been whispers all over the forest. Tell me, did you know your father?"

Zara shook her head, a confused expression flickering across her face. "My father? No, what does he have to do with anything?"

Silas stared off into the distance, red eyes unblinking. He looked so still and thoughtful, like a statue carved from marble. Although his features were too harsh to be considered beautiful. He reminded her of a deadly spider. "I don't know, little Red Cape. I haven't quite figured out all the pieces yet. I just know he seeks you in particular. What he plans to do with your friend, I'm not sure but it's probably best to keep him in sight."

Zara was silent, her mind reeling and body tense. Her legs felt unsteady beneath her. Ardon, king of werewolves, was after her. Her dream alone had been terrifying enough, with his predatory gazes and menacing smiles. The thought of meeting him in person, it was enough to make her feel sick. Her limbs felt like they were slowly becoming jelly and she wanted to sit, but also didn't want to appear weak in front of Silas.

Silas took her silence as a response. "Just be careful. You're a tough little human," he reminded her. "But you're no match for Ardon and his pack."

At the absolute worst moment, she heard Ronan suddenly mumbling incoherently as he sat up. He rubbed a hand over his tired face and both she and Silas froze, watching as Ronan's eyes flickered toward Zara, squinting in the darkness. "Who are you speaking to?"

Before she could come up with an answer that would send him back to sleep, he was standing and striding purposefully toward her. When he was close enough to see the Nightwalker, he gasped and began to stumble backward.

"Ronan, calm down," Zara said tiredly, placing a hand on his arm and holding him in place. The last thing she needed was for him to grab his weapon and attempt to murder her information source. "Silas is a..." She finished uncertainly, eyeing the blood drinker.

"Ally might be an accurate term, as I normally don't eat those," he finished for her, a grin flashing across his face and revealing his mouth of pointed teeth. "I'll leave you now, but you must know he'll catch up. The fact that he hasn't worries me. For some reason, he's biding his time."

"Who? What the hell is happening, Zara?" Ronan demanded, eyes imploring her for details.

"Thank you, Silas," Zara nodded, though when she turned he had already melded back into the darkness of the forest and was gone. It was almost like he had never been there, if not for the cryptic warning he had delivered.

"You might've mentioned you friendly with Nightwalkers," Ronan said as he sat back down on his sleeping mat. He grabbed his sword sheath and pulled out the blade just enough to see the glinting metal before putting it back. As if checking to make sure it was still there.

Zara fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Not with all them. The Red Capes struck a deal with Silas and his clan...we'd watch their backs if they watched ours. When everyone realized the wolves were coming back, it seemed necessary."

"The enemy of the enemy is my friend," Ronan mused.

"Something like that. Unfortunately only one clan out of dozens agreed to work with us. Silas I rescued from poachers some time ago...Nightwalker teeth fetch a pretty penny in the black market. I hadn't considered how serious they are with their debts."

"What the hell was he talking about?"

She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling drained. She dropped down on the ground next to Ronan. "He says Ardon is trailing us, or at least some of his pack is. He doesn't know why. Something about my father."

"Your father?" Ronan murmured curiously.

"I've never met him. Gran always pretended I never had one." And she'd gone along with it reluctantly. After many years, though, it wasn't something she often thought about. She was nearing her twenty-second birthday. She always figured if she didn't know now, she never would and that would be it. "Speaking of fathers." She picked up the journal from the ground and handed it to Ronan.

He arched an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation and she merely shrugged. "I was feeling restless."

"Learn much, thief?" he asked, although his tone was far from accusatory and more amused. She watched as he tucked it safely away.

"Not really. Just that he seemed a little greedy."

Ronan chuckled. "We're in agreement there."

Zara didn't respond. She was still trying to wrap her head around what she had learned. As if they hadn't enough to worry about...she realized she wasn't nearly as concerned as she ought to be and blamed it on the fact that it seemed so absurd that the leader of the wolves was after her, a nobody. She recalled her vivid dream from the previous night and shivered. She would keep that to herself for now, although it seemed a little more than just a mere coincidence that it had been him of all people who'd appeared.

"We'll have to be more careful from now on. No more fires at night and less resting during the day. If what Silas says is true, I'm not sure what lies ahead for us," Zara worried.

Ronan didn't respond right away. "At least we have a warning of what's behind us now. That's better than not knowing at all."

He covered her hand with his much larger one and Zara masked her surprise. "Nothing is going to happen to us if I can help it." For some reason, the raw honesty of his voice made her stomach flip.

They were words meant for comfort and for once, Zara was glad for them even though there was no real guarantee of safety for either of them. Comfort wasn't a luxury she indulged in often, as it also harbored weakness. Yet loneliness was the worst of all. She made to pull her hand away, but suddenly hesitated as this thought lingered. She was used to being alone, but it didn't need to stay way. At least not in this moment. There was a choice. She flipped her hand over and wrapped her fingers around his, squeezing once before letting go.

For whatever lay ahead of them, at least it wouldn't be faced alone.