I am thoroughly confused—until I see the pair of guards hurrying toward us, spears in hand.
“You there—what are you doing?” one of the guards asks.
“I found my drunkard husband in the street. I’m taking him home,” Aren says, still glaring at me.
I’ve had a lifetime to perfect the part of the drunkard, and now is my time to make a virtuoso performance. I sway, teetering as I struggle to sit upright. “It was just a few drinks, my love. Don’t be like that,” I say, voice slurring.
Aren wags a finger at me and opens her mouth, no doubt to chastise her drunken husband. But she’s cut off when a group of five or six guards rushes past. “Come now! We’re needed at the castle!”
The two guards standing over us acknowledge the urgency. Without giving us another look, they sprint off toward Castle Engel.
I track the guards from the corner of my eye, waiting for them to disappear. Aren watches them, too, fists clenched at her sides, breathing heavily.
I nod when they vanish from sight. The way ahead is once again clear, and she helps me to my feet.
“You’re incredible,” I tell her. “Quick as a fox.”
She doesn’t answer. There’s no need to speak. We are alive and desperate to get the hell out of this terrible place. I don’t know where she’s taking us, and I don’t care.
She leads me into a darkened alleyway, where I stumble over cobblestones. An alley cat hisses from the shadows. Aren catches me before I fall, pinning me to the side of a building. My head spins as the last effects of the drug work through my body. I want to kiss her but think better of it as my world starts to spin again.
“I can’t… I can’t…” I say.
“Can’t what?”
“Walk. Or form a sentence. I can’t think,” I admit, leaning hard on the wall. “I have to rest.”
I can tell from her expression that this is a terrible idea, but there’s no choice. It’s taken everything for me to get this far, and my legs give out. She catches me before I fall onto the dirty road. For a moment, we’re both still, catching our breaths.
“We’ll find a place to stop,” she says, “but only for a minute.”
I nod, and we hobble in the dark, stumbling down another alley behind some shops until we finally find an open door.
The stink of horse shit hits my nose.
“Hello?” Aren calls into the stable in a light voice. When no one answers, we slip inside and close the door behind us.
Aren kneels in the soft hay, helping me sit down, my back pressed against the wall. Moonlight melts through the windows, and a horse looks curiously at me, probably wondering why I’m sitting on his breakfast. I extend an open hand, and the horse sniffs at it.
“What are you doing?” Aren asks.
“Making a friend.”
She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Of course.”
I scratch the horse’s comfortingly warm neck, which takes energy I should be conserving, until it wanders to a water barrel in the corner. Aren reaches over to brush some hair out of my eyes and gasps, then places a hand on my forehead. “You’re burning up with fever.” She clucks her tongue. “Albion’s sake, how did I miss that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you were distracted because we’ve been running for our lives…with you carrying me most of the way, might I add.”
She shrugs. “A good enough excuse, I suppose.”
“I’ll forgive you this one. I’ll expect better care in the future,” I say.
“Will you now?” It looks like she’s contemplating if there will be a future.
Gods, I’ve missed this woman. After a moment, I ask, “We’re free?”
“Not quite yet,” Aren says, “and that fever you’ve got is going to make things more complicated.”
