26. I’ll Stay with You
I’LL STAY WITH YOU
WREN
“We have to leave the mountain.” Skyler stands in the doorway, twisting the end of her braid through her fingers.
I’m perched on the edge of the mattress, a damp cloth dangling from my fingertips. Moments ago, I was using it to wipe down Gabriel’s forehead. He’s lying on the bed, unmoving. His condition hasn’t changed since the attack three days ago.
“Leave? No, Sky, we can’t. Gabriel still hasn’t woken up.”
My friend drops her braid, frowning. “I’m sorry, Wren. It’s not my decision, but we can’t remain here any longer. The mountain has been compromised.”
I look at Gabriel’s broken, unmoving body, then back to Skyler. “But . . .”
How can we move someone who has been sleeping for days?
“We’ll bring him, too,” she says softly as if she read my mind. “But we are leaving today. I need to go, but I’ll be back for you both in an hour. Be sure to collect everything you want to bring. I don’t know if we’ll be coming back.”
Skyler’s mouth pinches, and my gut wrenches. Of course this is upsetting for her, too. She’s being forced to leave her home.
Before I can ask where we’re going, she’s left.
I slowly turn back to the bed. Gabriel looks so frail, lying on the white sheet. He’s pale, and there’s a grey pallor to his skin that won’t go away.
Setting the washcloth aside, I pick up his icy hands.
“I really need you to wake up, Gabe.” I press my lips against his cold fingers. They don’t even twitch. “Please, wake up.”
The responding silence is so loud I shudder.
I can’t look at his vacant eyes for long, so I put his hand down and scan his chest. Clean bandages wrap his torso, courtesy of the rebel healers Gallan and Eva.
They’re both Marked, and they’ve been here daily, taking care of the wounds Gabriel received during the fight.
After he collapsed, Gabriel was brought to our room, not the common space with the other wounded, because it was already full.
The healers had politely but firmly asked me to give them space while they changed Gabriel’s bandages and worked on healing him.
I’d argued, wanting to stay by his side, but they’d stood their ground.
“It’s our policy to keep loved ones out of the room while we’re working,” Eva had explained quietly, the green Mark on the inside of her wrist pulsing as she steered me away from the bed. “Our magic isn’t always gentle, and we work better alone.”
My Mark had flared, burning against my forehead, and I’d sucked in a deep breath. Moving away from Gabriel in this state had physically hurt, and I’d considered arguing, but in the end, I’d acquiesced and gone into the bathing room, giving them the requested space.
Eva had knocked on the door to let me know when they’d finished their treatment, and I’d hurried back to the Hunter’s side. Save for the healers’ visits, I haven’t left him at all.
At least the rebels had been willing to help Gabriel. It seemed seeing him cut down dozens of the king’s soldiers during the battle had earned him the rebels’ trust, because no one hesitated when I screamed for help.
Gabriel had fought as though he’d been born to wield a sword. If I hadn’t known he was using his nondominant hand, I never would’ve guessed. One with his weapon, he’d been all power and lethal grace, taking down the soldiers who dared get close to me.
And they’d tried. Gods fucking save me, they’d tried.
A chill sweeps down my spine, and goosebumps pepper my flesh as I recall the way the king’s men had unilaterally focused their attention on me.
Fear had held me in its grasp when one of the soldiers declared the king had wanted me alive, and its claws had tightened when I took in the violence in our opponents’ gazes.
They’d wanted me, but Gabriel had stopped them. He and Mist had been a team to behold, fighting in unison. I’d never seen anyone work together as they had. They had been two, but one. When Mist needed help, the Hunter was there. When Gabriel was in danger, his bonded familiar had his back.
They had fought, as had I.
I’d never felt anything as exhilarating as the rush that had flowed through me when I had finally reached within myself and released my magic. Using it on purpose felt different from before. As though all of me, including parts I’d never known existed, came alive.
Every breath had been deeper; every sound, clearer; every color, brighter.
Magic had poured out of me. Between the anger in my veins and directions from the Marked Ones by my side, I’d fought. A few of my shots had gone awry, and I certainly wasn’t as adept at wielding my power as the Marked rebels, but I hadn’t been waiting, putting my fate in other people’s hands.
For the first time in my life, I’d felt like I had a purpose. A reason for being. I hadn’t just been Wren, the gods-blessed waiting to be Given, nor had I been standing on the sidelines. I had been actively using my magic, and it had felt good.
At the end of the battle, after the last soldier had been killed, I’d felt a moment of pure joy. We’d done it. Even though weariness pulled at my bones, I’d felt like I could do anything. Even running, if I had to.
And then I’d seen Gabriel and the deep wounds that had been inflicted upon him. I’d screamed as he fell, grabbing his arms before he collapsed face first in the bloody snow.
“You scared me half to death, Gabriel,” I murmur, pulling my mind out of my memories and returning my attention to the Hunter. “And you’re still scaring me. I really need you to wake up.”
Squeezing his fingers one last time, I press a kiss to his hand.
“I promise, I will remain by your side.” The words settle between us, and I swear that bond between us grows stronger. It’s still there even though he’s asleep, and its presence is the only thing giving me strength. “No matter where we are, no matter what happens, I’ll be with you.”
“There’s still no change in his condition,” Eva confides in me a week later.
The healer’s face is drawn, and bags are under her eyes. I don’t blame her for being tired—everyone is, after a week of walking through endless dark, winding tunnels. Moving a whole community is an enormous undertaking, and leaving the mountain hideout behind has been slow going.
My fingers tremble around the handle of my lantern. “But he is healing, right?”
“Yes, even the worst of his wounds are nearly gone. He’ll have scars, but he will live.”
If he wakes up.
The healers have been giving Gabriel enchanted water, which supposedly contains all the nutrients he needs to survive in this there-but-not-there state, but I don’t know how much longer he can last like this.
Eva’s silent words swirl all around us, and I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Okay, thank you.” Gallan has already disappeared down the dark tunnels, probably to help someone else, and I sigh. “Is there something I should be doing that might help?”
At this point, I’d do anything to hear my Hunter’s voice again.
Eva shakes her head. “No. Stay with him. Talk to him if you can and remind him that you’re here.”
A cry comes from down the tunnel. The ground is uneven, and children have been slipping on rocks for days, cutting themselves and keeping the healers busy.
Eva stiffens, glancing in the direction of the sound, and her fingers tighten around her bag of supplies. “I have to go. Be strong, Wren.”
She keeps telling me that, and I’m trying, but each day when Gabriel doesn’t wake feels harder than the last.
I don’t have time to worry, though, because word comes from the front of the caravan that we’re about to start moving. I adjust my boots, grateful Skyler found me the footwear before we left, and I take my place beside the wagon for another dreary day of walking.
The first few days after we left the mountain, excited chatter swirled around us. People were eager to see something new, and apparently, many of the younger children had never left the mountain.
The thrill of adventure has worn off, giving way to constant complaints, as children loudly make their displeasure of being forced to walk for yet another day known.
Their parents soothe them, but there’s only so many times a mother can tell her child that the end will come “soon” before their offspring gives up all pretense of civility.
I don’t blame the children for being upset. This has been a very long, tedious journey, and the days are melting together. I almost miss being in the woods—almost.
I’m at the back of the group where several wagons are being pulled by mules. A few carry supplies, and three of them cart the injured, including Gabriel.
The mule pulling my Hunter’s wagon answers to the name Lucy.
Although her name is sweet, she is not. Lucy bites and kicks and stomps every time someone gets too close, making Chaos seem like a sweet little pony.
Unfortunately, the gelding isn’t here. He, along with the rebels’ horses, is being moved above ground to the new location.
It was too dangerous for everyone to follow that route, so, we are walking through endless tunnels.
Lucy’s driver, Byron, has to call out to the young children several times a day, reminding them to avoid her hooves. When the younglings run past, Lucy takes aim for their heads. The mule is temperamental, and she doesn’t seem to like anyone, but I think she hates me the most.
As if she knows I’m thinking about her, Lucy looks back, and I swear, she’s glaring at me. I’ve never been hated by an animal before—most of them love me—and it’s an odd feeling.
Still, I don’t want to anger her, so I duck my head and peer out from under my lashes.
A few seconds later, she huffs and looks ahead once more.
Maybe it’s not me she hates but the situation we find ourselves in.
The tunnels are low, and the ceiling barely rises above my head.
I’m not sure Gabriel would be able to stand straight.
I run my hand down the side of the wagon, brushing Gabriel’s clammy skin.
“I’m still here, Gabe,” I say softly. “I’m keeping my promise. I won’t leave you.”
Every night, I lie down next to the wagon in case he wakes while I’m sleeping.
“I’m not sure where we’re going,” I confide in his still form, hoping that Eva is right and talking to him will help. “But I’ve picked up bits and pieces. Everyone keeps calling it a camp.”
I pause, but other than the steady crunching of stones beneath the wheels, there’s no response.
“I don’t know what it’ll look like. I guess it could be a city of tents, although I’m not sure how they would keep that hidden. Several people have mentioned something called the net, but I don’t know what they’re talking about.”
More silence.
Reaching into the wagon, I pick up Gabriel’s hand. “I bet if you were awake, you’d know all the details by now. You have a way of talking to people and gathering information that I admire.”
Still nothing. The silence is weighted and depressing.
After a while, I let go of Gabriel’s hand so I can focus on walking. It’ll be another few hours before we stop to give the children a break, and I need to concentrate on keeping a steady pace.
It’s lonely back here. Byron isn’t the chatty type, and Skyler is at the front of the caravan with most of the other rebel soldiers. When we left, she told me to ask her if I needed anything, but I don’t really think my questions are worth bothering her.
After we stop for water and a small snack break, I practice drawing up my magic while walking. This has been part of my daily routine since the battle. Blue sparks flit around my fingers, and they come more quickly today than they did yesterday.
I manage to engulf my hand in my blue flames before I put them out for fear of accidentally hurting someone.
By the time we stop for the night, I’m barely able to lift one foot in front of the other. Still, I reach into the wagon, trailing my fingers down Gabriel’s cold cheek.
“Please wake up.” I repeat the words I’ve said a dozen times over. “I need you, Gabriel. I need to hear your voice. Talk to me. Yell at me. Give me a fucking head start, for the suns’ sakes. Just come back. Please.”
This time, the responding silence is unbearable. I never knew how much I needed to hear Gabriel’s voice until it was gone.
That night, as I lie beside the wagon, hot, salty tears dampen my cheeks.
I’m not crying for the pain in my feet or my legs.
I’m not even crying for everything I’ve lost. Every tear and worry is for the man who has slowly become the most important person in my life.
It’s painfully ironic I haven’t reached this realization until now.
As sleep threatens to pull me into its embrace, I twirl Amelia’s bracelet around my wrist. I don’t believe in the gods anymore, but I still shut my eyes and reach out into the universe.
Please, I whisper, casting my words into the darkness of my mind. If anyone can hear me, if anyone is there, please help him. Heal him from whatever is keeping him from me.
There is no answer, but I won’t break my promise. I will remain by Gabriel’s side no matter what.
Once, I ran from him.
Now, I need him.