Chapter 25
She could feel Casrian watching her as he built a fire.
The clouds had cleared while they looked for a place to camp.
There was a quarter moon in the sky. Through the gaps in the trees overhead, she could see stars.
Even with the moonlight, it had been hard going, the horses clearly unhappy with the move, but they managed.
She’d had to ask the trees for help again, but she didn’t think Casrian noticed.
They were settled now. Ash trees stood like sentinels around them.
The stream was only a little farther away than it had been.
She shivered.
Casrian threw another log onto the flames and sat down near her.
“Do you need my blanket?”
“No. I don’t need anything. You can stop worrying about me. I told you, I’m all right now.”
He tipped his head, trying to catch her eye.
She avoided it, staring at the fire and he sighed.
“You don’t have to be all right. I know you’re used to taking care of everything with your mother, being strong and figuring everything out on your own, but you don’t have to do that here. We’re partners. You can lean on me.”
“I’m fine.”
Maybe if she kept repeating it over and over, she’d actually start to believe it herself. Right now, she’d be happy if Casrian just backed off and let her deal with this on her own. She could handle it. She could handle anything.
But he didn’t back off. Even though she didn’t dare look his way, she could feel the weight of his gaze on her face, along with his worry. She wasn’t used to people worrying about her. He really didn’t need to. She was fine.
“Most of the new recruits have trouble after their first fight. Even training can’t prepare you for it.
It’s difficult to take a life no matter the circumstances.
If there’s any doubt in your mind, you did the right thing.
Those men were intent on murdering us and taking the horses.
I overheard that much before I killed the first man.
You had no choice but to defend yourself. ”
She scowled at the fire. “I didn’t do anything to defend myself. I tried to hide and he startled me. He was dead before I knew what was happening. He ran right at me. All I did was hold onto the knife.”
Casrian had cleaned her knife for her and sheathed it.
She’d shoved it into her boot because she wanted to be ready in case they were attacked again.
Her hands were still bloody. She’d washed them in the first stream they’d come across, dropping to her knees and scrubbing at them until her hands went numb with the cold.
Her skin still felt sticky though. Even in the dim light of the fire, she could see blood under her nails.
“It’s good that you held on to your knife,” he told her gently. “A lot of people drop their weapons and run.”
There was blood on her shirt too. The cloth was dried stiff at her wrists. There was probably blood all over her jacket and she just couldn’t see it because the fabric was so dark.
“I just stood there like an idiot. And it doesn’t matter.
Whatever I did or didn’t do. Either way, he’s dead.
” A bleak, cold feeling settled in her belly.
“No. It does matter. I shouldn’t say that.
He was still a person. It was my knife in his belly.
Even if I didn’t mean to do it, I killed him and I should take responsibility for that. ”
She looked up to meet Casrian’s blue eyes, dark in the dim light. His expression was as gentle as she’d ever seen it. His golden brows were drawn together in a worried frown. His hands were clasped between his bent knees, earnest as a supplicant.
“All of them were witch-touched,” he said.
“Just being near the rot can catch you up in it, especially if there’s a vulnerability there.
In the woods, we’ll find men who’ve been lost for months, just circling around the nest, unable to break free.
In towns, people will sometimes turn crazed and we have to fight through them to get to the witch.
It’s harder to fight those people, knowing they’re sick, but it’s still necessary.
You did well. You shouldn’t regret anything.
If you hadn’t held on to your knife, you’d be dead.
And that man was going to die either way because I’d have killed him when I was done with the others. ”
“And you don’t feel bad about that?”
He breathed out a thin sigh. “I don’t feel good about it, but it had to be done.”
She looked back to the fire, turning that over in her mind.
Trying not to imagine getting so lost out here that she’d murder someone for a horse and a chance at escape.
She wondered who they’d been. Bandits, probably.
Not many other people braved the woods. But he might have been a traveler.
He might still have a family somewhere waiting for him to come home.
“What happened to that man can happen to anyone near the rot. Your men could be out there now, lost and slowly losing their minds. It could happen to me.”
“It won’t happen to you,” he reassured her, confident as ever.
“But if it did, what would you do? Would you kill me the same as you did them and count it as an unfortunate necessity?”
“It won’t happen,” he repeated. “I would never let it go so far. If I saw any sign that I was losing you, I’d mark you with holy water and say the rites. My men know to do the same. They’ll take care of each other. I’ll take care of you.”
She plucked at a loose thread on her blanket. “What if you didn’t see it? I could attack you in your sleep.”
“I’d be able to overpower you easily.”
“Not if you were sleeping. I have fae blood,” she said. “You said that makes me more vulnerable. What if I turn into a witch?”
The witch wanted her for some reason. She’d called her by name, said she’d open a way.
Casrian’s breath hitched, and she felt his hesitation even as he said, “You’re not going to turn into a witch.”
“That mother you told me about. She didn’t mean to summon a demon. She—”
“She let the demon in through a spell. Through her desperation to save her child, she gave herself wholly over to it. That won’t be you. It takes trust in something to do that. Faith. Surrender.” The corner of his mouth turned up. “You’re the least trusting person I’ve ever met.”
It was strange how he made that sound like a compliment. It wasn’t even true. She’d gotten here by trusting him, hadn’t she? Even though she hadn’t meant to do it.
She hunched lower in the blanket. “I didn’t think witches were real before I came out here.
Not really. I thought they were all like Tilly or my mother, just misunderstood.
Not evil.” Like her, just talking to trees and minding her own business.
“I thought demons were just something the Church made up to keep people scared and obedient. Something people used as an excuse to get rid of people they didn’t like.
I didn’t think they were actually real.”
A complicated expression flickered across his face. “Well, now you know.”
Fuck.
Because that meant that she truly was vulnerable out here.
She wasn’t casting spells but she was doing something.
She did it without even trying. What if it happened that way to some people and the Church didn’t make a distinction?
The rot she felt in the woods could seep inside her mind and her body, poisoning her like it’d done to the trees and those men, to the poor mother who’d murdered her children.
Where was the line? Did reaching out to the trees count as opening a door? Did spilling blood?
The icy churn in her stomach rose to her bruised throat. She swallowed it down. She jolted to her feet, letting the blanket fall to the ground. She was just getting it dirty anyway. She fumbled at the buttons of her jacket. One of them came loose and she swore, tearing at it in the end.
The captain stood slowly. “Rowan?”
She shook her head sharply as she pulled off the disgusting thing. The arms were still damp. There was a blotch of something at her hip. Cold air slapped at her skin. She didn’t care.
“Rowan.” His voice was sharper.
“I’ll be back in a minute.”
The stream wasn’t far.
She’d only taken two steps away from the fire when the witch hunter’s hand closed around her arm. “Where are you going?”
“My coat is dirty. I’ll have to soak the whole thing. Don’t worry. It’s not thick. If I wring it out, it will be dry enough by morning.”
“No, it won’t,” he said softly. “It will still be wet, and you’ll be freezing.”
“I’ll put it by the fire.” She stared down at where his hand was wrapped around her arm, holding her in place.
She frowned. Her shirt was just as bad. She’d thought the jacket had shielded it.
But no. The blood was easier to see on the shirt because the fabric was a lighter color.
It wasn’t white like the captain’s shirt, more an indeterminate faded sort of gray.
It was already stained, but the blood was so dark…
“Come on.” Casrian tugged at her arm. “It’s been a long day and it’ll be a short night. You rest. I’ll watch. You can have my jacket.”
She looked up at him. “Your jacket probably has more blood on it than mine does.”
“Likely,” he admitted. “The laundry services for the guard are remarkable, but they can’t get everything out.”
He tried again to draw her back to the fire, but she held her ground. “I can’t. I can’t sleep in this. How can you kill a man and fall asleep covered in his blood?”
“Just breathe, Rowan. It will be all right. This will pass, I promise you.”
She couldn’t breathe. Her chest was locked up tight. There was a restlessness under her skin. A coldness spreading from the pit of her stomach. The last thing she wanted to do right now was close her eyes.
“You go to sleep if you can do it,” she said. “I just need to do this.”
She tugged her arm free and he let her go. Turning away, she put her jacket on the ground and jerked at the tie closing neck of her shirt. She pulled it over her head and stared down. Good.