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Chapter 43: All Alone

The dark shapes of trees flew past Vaela as she rode through the night. Hours blurred as she crossed through the hilly landscape, her ears primed for shouting to erupt behind her. But whether Timura was still unconscious or Vaela was too far ahead, she didn’t hear or see anyone chasing after her. Parts of the landscape popped out at her. That hill, this cluster of trees? She’d seen them the day before. Right?

Hard to tell, especially seeing them from the opposite direction. But it had to be–she rode down the main road, the same one they hadn’t deviated from, so she had to be getting closer. She rested a hand on her horse’s neck. Heat radiated from its skin, blood pounded through the vessels of its neck. She wasn’t spurring it forward in a full gallop, but it must be tiring. Whether she wanted to or not, she’d have to rest eventually.

A river crested from a hill and trickled down off to the right. She leaned back and her horse slowed to a trot. Only two scenarios. The group had found Timura, hopefully after a few hours, and now chased after Vaela, nearing with every second. Or Timura had woken up and rode after her alone. But even then, the rest would eventually have noticed their absence and follow after. Either way, they were all in pursuit.

Vaela rubbed her eyes, her body drooping. Fatigue washed over her with every blip of the horse’s heartbeat. They couldn’t run the entire way. She steered the horse to the river banks and stumbled off. Her legs wobbled in protest and she stabilized against the horse. Her fingers quivered as she undid the buckles and removed the saddle. As soon as she undid the last one, it slid under her hands and flopped to the ground, taking her with it. She dropped to her hands and knees, stick and saddle with shield on the grass beside her. The horse slurped down water from the river in long licks before turning to graze. The moon rose high above them–still the dead of night–a few hours till morning. Vaela crawled to the water and splashed some on her face. The coolness did little to refresh her, only rinsing away the veneer of grime and exhaustion that coated her.

Had to rest. She collapsed in the grass beside the horse and closed her eyes. Just a little bit.

Gentle rays of morning brushed against Vaela’s eyelids and she fluttered awake. A river trickled beside her. Had there been a river near their camp? No. Where was she?

Vaela jolted upright and stumbled to her feet. Adyr!

And Timura–eyes bloodied from broken vessels–flashed through her memory. Vaela shuddered and ran to her horse. It slept standing, the soft light of dawn casting a sheen off its coat. Dawn–she’d slept three, maybe four hours. Exhaustion wracked her body still, pain deep in her bones from her fight with Timura. But no time to rest. At this point, Timura surely followed her–and probably Hermit, Alnea, and Jace, as well.

She wrestled the saddle back on the horse. The others wouldn’t have to meter out their horses’ stamina as much as she did. All they had to do was get to her before she caught up to the Church. She snatched her stick and stepped into the saddle.

She rode at a steady pace until the sun reached its highest position in the sky. The ever-present vigilance of jerking at every sound behind her reminded her of the dwindling time. She spared a few minutes at another river for water before she jumped back on. They rode at an even slower pace. Sweat shimmered on the horse’s coat. It’d be too tired to make it much longer, maybe just to twilight. Possibly not even that.

By the evening, the horse slowed to a trot, its breathing labored. Vaela slumped in the saddle, exhaustion tugging at her bones. A hill stretched before them and the horse trekked up it as Vaela wavered in the saddle. As they neared the top, Vaela rose and fell with the horse’s labored breathing. Her horse couldn’t go much further–maybe she’d have to dismount and continue on foot. They crested the top and she blinked the fatigue from her eyes. There!

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She jolted awake, her heart pounding fresh blood through her body. At the base of the hill, a large camp with three tents had been erected. One tent, larger than the other two, had a few people in rust-colored robes entering and exiting. The smallest tent, set off to the side, was much nicer than the others. The third tent, almost as large as the first one, remained still–no one entering or leaving. Vaela stumbled out of the saddle, her legs sore from the tension of riding the whole day. She ducked down, leading the horse away from the top of the hill before they were seen. They skirted off of the main road and down the side of the hill. Hidden from sight, she unstrapped her shield from the saddle and pulled it on her arm. Her fingers brushed against the vials. Hermit’s blood, Alnea’s blood, a few drops of Jace’s, and an empty one. She squeezed her stick and nodded. It would have to do.

She crept around the hill and peered down at the camp. A few clergy members milled around the grounds, moving in and out of the main tent. Must be some sort of barracks. Maybe Adyr was in there?

Vaela laid on her stomach, pressing herself to the ground as much as she could, and craned her neck. A few tense minutes passed, but no sight of Adyr. Vaela glanced at the road behind her, as she had throughout the entire day. No dust kicked up, no angry group of well-meaning allies storming after her. But she didn’t have forever. Motion caught her eye and she whipped back around. The flap of the second largest tent wavered. Kaverlna emerged and Vaela sucked in a breath. Kaverlna held a bright white cloth and a knife–wet with blood. She wiped the blade clean and held it up to the sun. Vaela shuddered, rage flickering through her body and her fists clawed into the grass. Kaverlna’s lips were prominent even from the distance–painted red with blood.

Kaverlna walked to the secluded tent and disappeared inside it. Vaela snatched her stick and pushed to her hands and knees. It’d be best to wait for night, but she didn’t have time. Wait any longer and she’d risk the others arriving to stop her. She crept down the rest of the hill and peered at the camp. If she snuck in from the side, she should be able to get into Adyr’s tent without being seen. But just in case…

She pulled the vial of Hermit’s blood from her belt. The red liquid swirled, no darkness to the blood, but she could feel the Shadow swirling in its depths. If she only took a few drops, she should be able to summon a Veil, if need be. She pulled out the cork and held it poised on her lips.

A few drops and she could summon a Shade, but would she need more than that? She clenched the vial, then tossed the entire contents back. The bitter taste flowed over her tongue, followed by the rush of Power. Hermit’s Shadow, slippery like oil, slid down her throat. It sank into the recesses of her body. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to use it. She crept as far as she dared and waited for a priest to circle around the outskirts. Every couple of minutes, one or two of them swept the encampment. Some sort of rudimentary sentry? She ducked down and waited for them to return to the tent, before darting out towards the side. Even with daylight fading, it still felt like she was completely exposed.

She sprinted to the main tent and pressed herself flat against the canvas. Her heart pounded, but no shouts erupted from camp, no footsteps raced towards her. She clutched a hand to her chest, covering her torso with her shield, the other hand tight on her stick. Now, just sneak around the side, and make the final burst to Adyr’s tent. This close to the wall of the tent, the voices of the clergy members filtered through, almost as if she were standing right next to them. Nothing of significance–the bored tone of people discussing their day. She crept along the side, fixed on Adyr’s tent. On the other side, the tent flap whooshed open and slapped closed. She ducked into the recess of the tent as far as possible. Footsteps tapped around and gradually moved towards her. They were coming–and there was nowhere to hide. Shadow stirred within her body and she crouched down. Hide, if possible. Fight, if need be. She was not leaving without Adyr–even if she had to fight Kaverlna and every priest here.