I'm not moving fast enough.

The knowledge squirms in the erratic race of my heart, the pound of my feet on rock and bracken, the stinging smoulder of flame slithering under my gloves. Breath spins easily out of my path, evading my desperate grasp. I push myself harder, until my calves scream and my head's pounding threatens to split open my skull, but it is still too slow. My boots drag on the earth.

A tree root sends me stumbling. I throw out a hand, grateful for the branch that meets it, but internally, ice hisses. More seconds wasted. More time for Finlay to catch up, to pin me down, to sear every inch of me in sapphire streaks.

No, Fiesi. Finlay is lost, dead, ashes in the rage of blue flames.

I shove off the tree and sprint onward. He's going to catch me. He must. Even if he doesn't, the burn eating through every one of my muscles will kill me first.

The path was more level than this. I must have veered off it. Clumps of grass battle me with every step, blades tearing at my boots and mapping my ankles with stinging lines. Everything ahead is a haze, swamped with darkness, the trees melding into it until they loom over in all their knitted shadows. My left shoulder knocks against a trunk. I grit my teeth against its throb. The greatest pain is the phantom burn entwining my spine, the pierce of Fiesi's chase.

The trees fall away, blades of moonlight sweeping over snowy grass. Something rustles behind. It must be him. I throw myself forward, faster, brambles tearing as I charge through their webbed mass.

My legs give way beneath me. This time, there is nothing to grab onto.

I fall to the side, feet slipping over the slickened grass. The ground slopes downwards. My stomach hits rock, and then the earth falls away beneath my legs, leaving me grappling for a hold on the ledge. Sweat slides my hold further down the stone until I am dangling at its edge, kicking at empty air.

Panic writhes in my stomach. I dig in my grip, panting, aches already lacing my arms. My feet scrabble for a hold, dirt cascading, chest pressing harder into the ledge.

The shadows of the mountainside above shift. A shape etches out amongst the vague forms of trees. Footsteps crunch.

He'll find me here, vulnerable and exhausted. I won't be able to fight back again. The dagger has left my hand during my fall, and I grope for it, raking through soil and stone until its hilt knocks against my fingers and I yank it closer. Relief is quickly shaken away. My trembling grip won't sustain me for much longer, and there is nothing beneath.

But even if I could pull myself back up, that is where he chases. There is only one way to go.

I grit my teeth, shut my eyes, and release the ledge.

For a terrifying second, everything freezes. The air is a void, the drop endless, my heart no longer beating. Then my legs slam into the earth below, and ice cracks to make way for agony. I crumple to the ground, barely grasping the breath to whimper before the slope carries me on downwards. I roll over and over, clawing uselessly at damp earth, until I'm only able to curl up into a ball and endure it.

Every collision deepens the throb in my shoulder. Aches cut into my legs, serrated knives that seeth and melt into my bones. I wrap my arms tightly around myself and pray for it to be over.

Eventually, with a final, jarring impact, my prayer is answered. I stop. I force a rasping breath, shivering with the pain the simple action brings. My entire body feels beaten, torn apart, gnawed at by the air itself. Sweat wets the back of my tunic, though it could easily be blood.

After an excruciating moment, I prise open my eyes. It makes little difference. All I can make out is a few grass blades striping my view; all else is dark and spinning.

He will still be chasing. The thought pricks at my spine, wrestling the pain that pins me there and jolting me upright. My hands brace my sitting position, the only part of me with some strength left. I blink hard, and just about mark the line where the mountainside splits from the sky. It raises high above. I've fallen a long way. When I twist around and squint at the opposite side, another jumbled slope climbs upwards, with little before it. I'm right in the lower parts of the valley.

My head throbs with the effort, and I close my eyes again. I've paid for the journey. There is no chance of me resisting Fiesi now if he finds me.

Which is why I need to move. I pat at the ground, tearing at dirt until I find the dagger's blade again. I sweep it towards me, jam it into my belt, and then prepare for the more difficult task: getting up.

Planting my left foot, I push up, then immediately collapse before I can fully stand. Pain grates at my ankle. Bending over, I rip back my trouser and massage at the skin, wincing as the aches lance up my leg. I must have injured it in the fall. Gritting my teeth, I step up on my right foot this time, but the moment I try to tilt my left, it gives way beneath me and I stumble forward.

My outstretched hands meet bark. I clutch at the tree, pressing all my weight into it as I shift up against its trunk. If I don't rest on my left foot, I can remain upright, though it still throbs persistently. But I can't walk, let alone run.

I stare helplessly out into the darkness, the looming shadow of Mount Vasim piercing the sky. Fiesi must be close. I'm going to die.

Bark dislodges under my nails as they dig in. No, I won't give up so quickly. I must be able to move somehow.

Taking a few breaths to steady myself, I lower my foot. The pain quadruples instantly. I don't snatch it back quick enough, my grip on the tree slipping away as I jerk back with a gasp. My stagger sends me sliding over damp grass until water leaks through my boots. I sink down unsteadily, straightening my legs as a chilling flow encases them.

There must be a river snaking through the centre of the valley. It laps just above my waist, murmuring gently, laced with ice. I shouldn't stay here, yet I can't bring myself to rise again. The water's cold eases the ache in my ankle and gradually calms my thumping heart.

A thought trickles through, spurring my fingers to life. I yank at my glove, pulling until it flings off and lands with a dull splash in the water before me, then peel off the second with desperation as flame pours through to replace it. There is no use reaching to recover them. Instead, I shift back, resting against the river's bank, and release a shaky breath as I watch fire wind around my palms. After a moment, it dives between the surface of the water, darkening its murky shine.

It is such a welcome release. Within seconds, my ankle rests more comfortably on the riverbed, and the stinging in my back vanishes, until a gentle burn soothes every inch of my skin. I skim my fingertips over the surface, watching as fire dances in and out. Water has no effect on its flare.

My joy at seeing it again rapidly fades. I twist around, watching the mountain. Still no visible movement, but it won't stay that way for long.

A tight sigh releases from my chest. He was using me. The thought crashes down like a tidal wave, far heavier than the miniature ripples playing with my flame. All this time, Fiesi has been stringing me along, convincing me he has come to keep me safe, when in reality all he wanted was to make me weak.

The dark blaze bursts up around my arms, heated and purposeful, and I let it. He is just like everyone else. The same look, the same fury, the same goal. Even he wants me dead.

I have no friends out here. I'm alone again.

I draw my knees up to my chest, encircling them in all the fire I can gather. It isn't enough. His betrayal is a different kind of ache, one that won't be whisked away.

A memory pricks at the back of my mind, weaving its way into my thoughts. I hardly consider resisting. The strength isn't there. My eyes slide closed, the bars slotting into fresh darkness no longer broken by moonlight.

She clutched a wooden sword in both hands. She came to show it to me, the way she'd learned to dodge and swipe, jabbing at invisible enemies as she twirled about the empty space before my cell. Her eyes shone pale and blue, matching her gleeful grin. A plait of golden hair swung with her movement. In a final flourish, she leapt back to the bars, spreading her hands out proudly.

Every time she came down, she had a new skill to show, and each one seemed to improve. Her talent was boundless. Just this once, I wanted to reciprocate.

So, cupping my palms before her watchful gaze, I summoned the flame. A gasp slipped from her lips as the black sparks formed, quickly bursting into flickers that raise high with my thrumming excitement.

She flinched, falling into her backward step. I was too focused on my flame to notice the fear darkening her eyes, but I saw it the moment I moved closer, when the flames began to lap at the bars. Her sword jerked up, its blunt point filling the space between us. I thrust a hand out towards it, met her eyes, felt my heart twist with my desperate prayer. I wanted her to like it. It's all I had to give her.

Instead, she turned and fled, the shadows stealing her light.

Opening my eyes, I wrench myself back into the present, dropping my hand underwater to let the damp cold ease away the grip of her final stare. It lingers. My fist clenches, smothering fire as I press it into the riverbank. Her eyes mirrored Fiesi's. The change is the same. No matter how much they might like me, even seem like a friend, there is none who cannot hate my flame.

I trace a circle in the water, picking out the light ripples. She didn't come back. I waited for her, forever pressed against the bars and ready with a thousand apologies, but she never came to receive them. Each guard felt like a mockery, a set of footsteps to raise my hopes before crushing them again.

Maybe that's why it satisfied me, only a little, to see him crumple when I grabbed his wrist, to steal the dagger from his lifeless grasp. Maybe it was that unrequited longing that drove its point into my heart. Yet even that was false hope.

A faint sound draws my gaze up, searching along the river. I recognise it, somehow, its two notes echoing from somewhere deep. It is a bird call. I know that before I make out the feathered shape, a mere few paces away, caught perfectly in a beam of silver light.

I hardly dare breathe. It is a lapwing, to every minute detail: the streaks of green on its folded wings, the snowy white chest, the crown of feathers sticking up from its head. It does look quite proud standing there, surrounded by water; its narrow beak seems pulled into a smug smile.

A quiet laugh escapes me, hardly audible to my own ears. Slowly, carefully, I lean forward, peering at its smoothed feathers. Water climbs my tunic.

"You're a little late, aren't you?" The whisper slips from my tongue, driven by a few words uttered to me by a girl I haven't seen in a long year.

To my surprise, my voice is soft enough. The lapwing cocks its head towards me, but doesn't fly away.

"It's winter," I continue, a smile dancing over my lips. "You're supposed to travel away from the mountains for winter."

It meets my gaze. I'm sure it looks haughty, twitching its beak as if defending its actions. I imagine it squawking out a protest. Late? I am right on time, feeble human.

This time, my laugh bubbles out far too loud. The lapwing lets out a shrill shriek -- a startled pee-wit -- and takes off in a flurry of feathers. I watch it glide over the river, vanishing into the valley's void. Maybe it'll reach the castle in Polevis.

Abruptly, I stand, shaking away the trails of water. My smile lingers. She did come back, eventually. After they found me, the dagger discarded, stained by blood with no source, she came back. I vowed never to show her the flame again, and in return she promised never to leave me alone. She kept her word better than me. She visited again and again, brightening the darkest days, until the futile agony the dagger brought was nothing but a distant memory.

The gloves are still in the water. I dig for them, tracing my fingers over the earth, glancing back at the empty mountainside, then out at the path of the lapwing's flight. The will to run has returned, but now it isn't panicked, nor aimless. I have direction.

One glove knocks against my boot. I snatch it up, and immediately spy the other floating further downstream. Both I cram into the space under my belt. They are still a salvation, whatever their intended purpose.

"When you've got your gloves, you should go looking for her."

A last check that my dagger is still in place at my hip, and then I'm dashing across the river, leaping out at its other side. It provides some small barrier, if Fiesi was to appear now. But the night remains just for me. As I run, flames streaming over my palms to rip away any lasting exhaustion, its stars light my path.

She did break her promise, in the end, but not willingly. It's time I returned the favour. Somewhere out there, in the world opened by the gloves tapping at my waist, her heart must still beat.

The quest for safety is over. Now, I have a new mission. I will find her. Finally, after all these years, I have the ability to keep her safe.

───── ⋆⋅♛⋅⋆ ─────

I have no fun fact for you other than my own excitement because this is the part of the book when I get to think about my cute kids again. And lapwings are cool. Also they're in decline, manage your farmland well to help them please--

Yay, Nathan's gonna find his girl! Can he do it? Is she even still alive? Does she actually want to be found?

I guess we'll just wait and see and squint and also remember that .5 chapter we had near the start and wonder if another one will come along at some point--

- Pup