Chapter 11
Amara
There are very few circumstances in which I consider rescuing a man to be a sensible use of my time, and after several centuries of observing humanity’s remarkable ability to create its own misfortunes, I have found that intervening rarely improves the outcome for anyone involved.
Unfortunately, the unconscious fool bleeding into my forest appears determined to become the exception.
I stand in the center of the clearing while the last echoes of violence disappear beneath the ancient canopy, the forest slowly settling around us now that every unwelcome heartbeat has finally fallen silent, and despite every sensible argument presenting itself with admirable persistence, my attention keeps returning to the same irritating mortal sprawled amongst the crushed leaves.
He should have left.
That had been the arrangement from the very beginning.
I frightened him, the forest frightened him, and common sense made what I considered several exceptionally convincing attempts to persuade him that wandering repeatedly into a cursed forest was unlikely to become the foundation of a long and fulfilling life.
Yet somehow he interpreted every warning as an invitation, every threat as entertainment, and every opportunity to escape as a personal inconvenience.
I have witnessed kings ride willingly into wars they could never hope to win, noblemen gamble away fortunes that should have sustained generations, and scholars devote entire lifetimes to proving theories any reasonably intelligent child could have dismissed within an afternoon.
None of them, however, displayed quite the same enthusiasm for making catastrophically poor decisions.
A quiet breath escapes me as I lower my gaze, only to discover several dark stains across the front of my white dress that most certainly had not been there earlier.
“Wonderful…”
I brush my fingertips across the fabric before abandoning the effort almost immediately, because there is very little one can accomplish once fresh blood has developed an attachment to clothing, particularly when the individuals responsible have already been reduced to little more than unpleasant memories.
The branches overhead sway gently.
“I fail to understand what you find amusing.”
The leaves answer with the faintest rustle.
“No.”
My eyes drift back toward the unconscious man.
“I am perfectly aware of what he did.”
Another rustle follows.
“I am not rescuing him because you have suddenly developed an inexplicable fondness for reckless strangers. I am rescuing him because he elected, against every imaginable measure of reason, to place himself between me and men carrying enough weapons to invade a small country.”
The forest remains unconvinced.
“I neither requested such assistance, nor required it, and if he possessed even the smallest instinct for self-preservation we would not currently be standing here discussing the consequences of his astonishing lack of judgment.”
The oldest branches creak overhead.
“…That does not alter the fact that he is bleeding because of me.”
The words settle between us before I can convince myself not to acknowledge them.
He stepped into a battle that was never his to fight, risked his life for someone he scarcely knows, and succeeded only in ensuring that I am now burdened with an obligation I had absolutely no desire to acquire.
The forest, naturally, appears rather pleased with itself.
“Oh, do stop looking so satisfied. I am settling a debt, nothing more, and I would appreciate it immensely if you refrained from inventing romantic interpretations where none exist.”
The branches sway with unmistakable amusement.
I have known this forest for centuries. It has become thoroughly intolerable.
With a resigned sigh, I raise one hand and weave the spell almost absentmindedly, having performed it so many times over the centuries that it requires little more than a thought.
“Urs.”
Heavy footsteps roll through the trees, slow and unhurried, while branches bend aside to make way for an old friend returning home.
A great brown bear emerges from between the trees, his thick coat catching fragments of sunlight filtering through the canopy before he comes to a stop beside me with the quiet confidence of a creature that has never feared this forest.
“There you are.”
The enormous beast lets out a low rumble before pressing his head affectionately against my shoulder.
“You are entirely too pleased to see me.”
His answer comes in the form of another insistent nudge.
“Yes, yes. I have missed you as well.”
My fingers disappear into the thick fur around his neck, scratching gently beneath his jaw until his eyes drift closed in obvious contentment. After a moment, he lowers his great head the rest of the way, patiently waiting.
I smile despite myself before leaning forward to press a soft kiss against the bridge of his nose.
“There is my handsome boy.”
He huffs happily, warm breath stirring the loose strands of hair framing my face, before his attention shifts toward the unconscious man lying in the clearing.
“I know.” The amusement leaves my voice. “I am not particularly pleased about it either.”
I lift both hands and allow the spell to unfurl effortlessly.
At once, thick roots slip silently through the soil before breaking the surface beside the unconscious man, weaving themselves beneath his shoulders, around his waist and beneath his legs with remarkable care.
They never pull or drag him across the ground.
Instead, they lift him as though he weighs nothing at all before carrying him slowly toward us.
The bear lowers himself without being asked, and the roots settle the unconscious man carefully across his broad back, adjusting him until he lies securely before retreating beneath the earth as quietly as they had appeared.
I rest a hand against the bear’s shoulder.
“We’re going home.”
His ears twitch.
“He needs help before he bleeds to death, and I would rather avoid discovering whether saving someone’s life only to let them expire an hour later still counts as a good deed.”
The bear lets out a thoughtful huff.
“Besides, I suspect he will be considerably less irritating once unconscious.”
Another huff.
“Oh, don’t defend him. He has done enough of that himself today.”
The bear lowers himself slightly before turning his head toward me. His gaze flicks to the empty space behind the unconscious man before returning to mine.
I arch a brow.
“…No.”
He doesn’t move.
“I am perfectly capable of walking.”
Still nothing.
“You are already carrying one fully grown man.”
The bear responds with a quiet, pleading rumble before tilting his head ever so slightly, his large brown eyes fixed on me with such shameless expectation that I cannot help staring back at him.
“Absolutely not.”
Another rumble.
“Oh, don’t do that.”
His ears droop.
“You are entirely too large to be behaving like an abandoned puppy.”
He blinks once.
Then again.
I release a long sigh.
“…You know perfectly well that expression has never failed.”
His tail gives a single satisfied swish.
“I have spent centuries cultivating an intimidating reputation, and you insist upon destroying it every chance you get.”
The bear merely waits.
“…Fine.”
Resting one hand against his shoulder, I climb onto his back behind the man, gathering my skirts before settling comfortably into the thick fur.
“There. Happy?”
The deep rumble vibrating through his chest answers the question before he even rises to his feet.
“I shall take that as a yes.”
With one final glance toward the now silent clearing, the bear turns toward the narrow trail hidden between the trees, and together we make our way home.