I eased her back and wiped her face with the edge of my dirty sleeve, leaving a brownish streak in place of her tears. “We’re both grieving, both exhausted. But we have to keep going. We have to believe Marcellious will find us soon. I think he’s still alive, Em. He’s strong—strong enough to survive anything. But even if… even if something happened to him, I won’t leave you. We’ll raise this child together, no matter what.”
“Oh, Olivia, what would I do without you?” Emily whispered. “I’m so sorry for how I’ve been acting. I want to believe Marcellious is alive—I truly do. But I think convincing myself he’s already dead protects me from heartbreak. If I expect the worst, I won’t be surprised when I find out it’s true.” She sniffled. “I can’t seem to carry your optimism.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “I wouldn’t call it optimism. It’s more like desperate determination.” I glanced up at the sky, noting its crisp clarity. “We should keep moving while the weather’s on our side.”
With a groan, I pushed myself to my feet, my muscles aching from the cold. “Spring is coming soon. I can hardly wait.”
Our horses picked their way down a hill, hooves crunching over patches of ice and brittle grass as they made their way to the stream. We let them drink their fill, dismounting to take several gulps ourselves. The cold water sent a shiver down my spine, but it was refreshing.
As I lifted my gaze from the rippling current, something further upstream caught my eye—something that didn’t belong. Squinting, I shielded my eyes from the sun.
“Look, Em,” I said. “A carriage—it’s on its side.”
Emily lifted her head and frowned. “Oh no. Let’s check it out. Maybe we can help.”
We followed the creek’s edge until we reached the wreckage.
The wagon lay broken, its wheels twisted and useless. The leather reins trailed into the water, undulating like seaweed in the current.
“I don’t see the driver anywhere.” Emily searched, scanning the distance. “Maybe he went to find help.”
A chill crawled up my spine. Something wasn’t right.
I stepped further down the stream, and then I saw them.
Two figures lay motionless across the water, their bodies blocking its gentle flow.
I pointed, my throat tightening. “I don’t think so, Emily. They were thrown from the carriage.”
Emily let out a gasp. “Oh, that’s awful!”
The icy wind howled through the trees as we stood frozen, staring at the tragic scene before us.
“We need to drag them out of the stream,” I stated, remaining calm despite the fear crawling up my spine. “If we leave them there, they’ll pollute the water for animals and travelers.”
Emily shuddered. “Ew! Do we have to?”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Oh, God. Did we drink water infested with bacteria from a rotting corpse?”
She paled. “Ugh! No, that’s a horrible thought.”
Without another word, I waded into the creek, the frigid water numbing my legs. Emily hesitated, but with a groan of reluctance, she followed.
Dragging the soaked man and woman from the stream took an eternity. The term “dead weight” existed for a reason. Their clothes were waterlogged, their limbs stiff, making the process agonizing. But we finally laid them side by side a few yards from the water’s edge. I gathered small stones and placed them over their eyes—a silent offering of respect for the dead.
That grim task done, I exhaled and turned toward the overturned carriage. “Maybe there’s something useful inside. They certainly don’t need it anymore.”
“Good idea,” Emily muttered, rubbing her arms as if trying to shake off the chill.
We trekked back to the wreckage and began sorting through the sodden goods. Despite the damage, we uncovered valuable supplies—leather pouches filled with much-needed food, utensils, a knife, bowls, and tin cups. We pulled everything onto the creek bank, sorting what we could use from what was ruined.
Then—a loud crack. A branch broke in the distance.
I stiffened. My breath caught in my throat.
Balthazar.
Had he finally found us?
