Gash's crumpled form lies unmoving amid the foliage, still-manacled hands trapped beneath him.

Auris pulls the air into another bolt, holding it ready as she approaches, consciously drawing her breath into a deep, repetitive pattern.  Half the distance, and he doesn't stir.  The ground is slick with morning dew, each step a careful question.  Still, no movement, and she allows the bolt to dissipate as she finally kneels beside him.  The stench of burnt leather hangs about him, the back of his coat singed where the final bolt struck.  His eyes are closed, his face slack and pushed halfway into the mud.  She takes his shoulder to roll him to his back and there's a choked gasp, his eyes snapping open, and she jolts back as he drops to the ground again.

Gash's eyes narrow, focusing with some difficulty on her as he tries to push himself up only to fall back again with a pained grunt.  "Tha's...what it's worth to ya?" he asks between ragged breaths.  "Nearly...killin' me in turn?"

"Be still," Auris says, stern annoyance replacing the shock.  "I'll do what I can for you."

"Wha', like ya just did?  Break my spine again?"

She doesn't dignify it with a response.  He twitches as she lays her hands on his side, but there's no cry of pain, and she reaches farther with Miris' power, soothing his bones and organs from the shock, and as much as he grumbles, his breathing eases as the power sinks in.

His eyes are closed again when she sits back on her heels, a gentler sleep taking him, and Auris draws a deep breath of her own.  Gwrtheyrn sends a mental query.  She looks up to see him peering down from the top of the ravine, pawing nervously at the cliff's edge.

It's all right for now, she sends back.  I...we need to find a way to get him up there.  Have you found a path?

Maybe farther along?  I don't know this area.

I'll wait for you.

With a wordless acknowledgement, Gwrtheyrn turns and vanishes from her sight.

Auris sighs, moving her legs out from under her and absentmindedly massaging her calves as her gaze wanders across the trees.  She missed it earlier, but there's birdsong in the air, and things are properly visible now, though the sun has yet to breach the horizon.  ...It can't have been more than twenty minutes since they arrived, she realizes.  It feels like an age.

I found a path!  Sort of.  I think it will work.  There's an impression of something narrow and uncertain along with the words.

Auris nods, remembers he isn't anywhere nearby, and responds, Be careful.  "You couldn't make any of this easy for us, could you?" she asks the unconscious Gash, and the sight of him brings crashing back everything that's led to this moment.  "A hired killer."  She spits the words and looks away again, farther up the ravine.  "Couldn't make any of it easy."

Gwrtheyrn arrives, stepping beside her and nosing her gently, his mental presence comforting.  "Yes," Auris says with a sigh, "we need to return."

It's only after they've managed to settle Gash across Gwrtheyrn's back that Auris remembers her shield.  She looks back toward the wall of the ravine leading up to the cave, and heavily considers leaving it there, and then weighs the merits of trying to climb back up the thing versus taking the extra time to weave her way back toward it from the main entrance, and finally sends Gwrtheyrn ahead as she returns to the wall.

It isn't the worst thing she's scaled, and nowhere near the tallest, but her calves are distinctly unhappy with her choice, and when she does retrieve her shield, her shoulder's quick to inform her of its own bruise.  She carries it in hand, instead.

❂

You're not well, Vṛkā, Gwrtheyrn says.

Auris looks up from her feet, almost startled, and realizes she doesn't know where they are.  Well, that's no surprise.  She doesn't know how long they've been walking.

Please rest, Gwrtheyrn says.  I can carry you.

Auris hesitates.  It's bright enough it must be well into the day by now.  She walks with one hand on Gwrtheyrn's side, and there's a groan—Gash.  Not now.  He'll wake, and try something again.  I'll rest later.  We'll be back soon.  I'll rest when we're back.

Gwrtheyrn's silence is dissatisfied.

The journey is longer this time.  Auris is slower than Gwrtheyrn, and Gwrtheyrn can't move quickly anyway for fear of dislodging Gash, and without much way to move any faster even to get out of the way, they're forced to greater caution still when it comes to the jungle beasts.  The stream, at least, provides them with water when they reach it, and though it brings other worries, Gash does not truly wake at all, his most coherent words a string of curses at Auris' cruelty, roundly ignored by Auris herself.

A lot is ignored by Auris.  Gwrtheyrn is the only one to notice when they reach the stream again, his confusion quickly transforming to shame that he's led them in a circle.  He reaches out to Sunwolf, but her mind is distant, closed off from him.  Vṛkā, he asks, what worries you?

She doesn't respond, but her thoughts gradually seep through, and he knows she's afraid.  You're thinking too much, he says.  Be quiet, be calm.  But she does not, she cannot, continuing only to consider that Gash is the one after Asa, after Asphodel; Gash, who was one of the first to see through the other, who was one of those to wrest Valerian away from him, whose quiet ways and constant vigilance were a familiarity to Valerian...  She may not know how Clearshot and Valerian grew to what they are, she may not understand that relationship, but she does understand the friendship, the kinship Valerian shares with Gash, and she can think of little but how this will affect him, still so fragile in his trust.

We will be careful, Vṛkā, Gwrtheyrn says.  We will be careful how we tell him; it will be all right.

Still, she is afraid, and as he turns away from the stream, Gwrtheyrn realizes it was her fear that led him here again, that kept him from leaving the jungle.  He adjusts course, and continues on.

It's evening by the time they finally reach the coast, the sun dipping behind the walls of the town, and Auris squints against its final rays, and flinches back as there's movement ahead, gripping her shield—it shouldn't be a jungle creature, she remembers through a fog.  They've reached the town.  But Gwrtheyrn's moved back.  His mind is anxious.

"Auris?" Valerian asks.  "Gwrtheyrn?  Where've you been?"

Her thoughts are slow.  She needs to tell Valerian something.  Gwrtheyrn is anxious; he doesn't want—he doesn't want Valerian to see Gash.  She needs to tell Valerian something.  She needs to—the first condition.  She promised she would send him away.  She stands straighter with that thought of purpose, relaxing her grip on her shield.  "It's time," she says to Valerian.

"Time?"  He glances past her, toward Gwrtheyrn, concern growing in his tone.  "Time for what?"

"To go."

Valerian stares at her, and again glances to Gwrtheyrn, and back to her.  "Auris...Auris, you're scaring me.  What's happening?"

"Don't look," she says.  "...please.  Just find Clearshot and go.  I-I'll find you later."

"What happened?  Is that Gash?  What happened to him!"

"Valerian...please."  The word is nearly whispered.  Is she not a master of words?  Where have they all gone?  Her mind is an empty hall.  Even that moment of purpose is fading.

"He's my friend," Valerian responds, his voice dropping to match her volume as he searches her face, desperate for some explanation.  "He's my family.  I...I'll go if you say, but not before I see him.  Not before I know he's okay."

Auris looks at him.  She feels...she doesn't know what she feels.  All of it's dimmed.  He won't listen.  Her shoulders slowly droop.  Her gaze slides away from him.  He'll learn anyway.  It's already done.  Why hide?  She steps wordlessly aside.  Why hide...

Vṛkā?  Vṛkā, we need to be careful.  Vṛkā...?

There's no response.  A master of words...always a plan...  Does she have one for this?  Maybe...  Somewhere...  Once upon a time...

"Gwrtheyrn," Valerian says quietly, "let me see him."

Vṛkā, please.  We've come this far...  We need to be careful!  Still, she is silent, absorbed in her own, slow thoughts, and at last, Gwrtheyrn lowers himself so that Valerian might see.

Gash's familiar head of dirty-blond hair droops, motionless, against Gwrtheyrn's side.  His arms hang further down, the manacles weighing on his wrists, the bandages on his hands splotched with seeping red.

"Gash?"  A world of doubt, of worry and fear is in the word, and Valerian steps in, almost hesitating before he checks Gash's breath, and lets out a sigh of relief.  "Don't worry; I'll fix you up," he murmurs.  "You'll be fine.  Everything will be fine."

"...Don't waste your breath."  Auris has roused partway from her stupor, sensing the Weave shifting at Valerian's intent, though still the world feels distant.

"Why?  What's wrong?  He's breathing, he's alive, we can fix this."

"He's the one after Asa."  She should've said that differently.  The thought is faint.

"No, he's not."

Auris stands there, shield in her hand, clothes rumpled and dirty from...from nearly a day in the jungle.  Has it been so long?  When did she last sleep?

"He's not."  He searches her face for something, anything, but she stands there, and feels nothing, and doesn't know what she should feel, and doesn't know what she should say, and only stares at him, and says nothing.

Everything she did to protect him...

"Gwrtheyrn...Gwrtheyrn, tell me he's not.  He wouldn't, he couldn't, he..."

Vṛkā, please, help him!  How do we help him?

...It wasn't enough.

Vṛkā—Vṛkā!  Answer me; help him!

"Tell me he's not," Valerian whispers, his eyes shining with tears.  "Auris...Gwrtheyrn..."  The words catch in his throat.  "Please..."

Auris is silent.  Exhaustion washes over her, her eyelids feeling heavy, and she sways briefly, but catches herself and is still.  Not yet...  She can rest soon.  Not yet.  It isn't done yet.

The only sound is the slight clink of the manacles as Gwrtheyrn rises again, his head drooping from its previous height.

"Gash?  Gash, wake up.  Tell me you're not.  Tell me you're not after Asa.  Tell me—"

Gash stirs, turning his head to gaze blearily toward Valerian.  His left eye is blackened from his fall, swollen halfway shut.  "S'rry," Gash mumbles.  "Can't do that fer ya."

Auris looks toward Valerian, but there is no purpose to it.  She turns away and begins walking toward the gate.

"Gash..."

Gwrtheyrn pokes and prods, but Auris' mind is blank but for a singular, dim intent forwards, to town, to bring Gash.

"Gash, please."  Valerian's voice breaks on the syllable.

Auris continues walking.

Gwrtheyrn knows he must follow, but the pain in Valerian's expression roots him to the spot.  At last, he moves after her, and Valerian drops back a step.

"Please," Valerian whispers.

Gwrtheyrn forces himself to turn away.

The surf rolls across the shore, tumbling upon itself as it climbs the sand, sweeping out, tumbling back...  The sound of shifting sand catches Gwrtheyrn's ear as he reaches the gate, and he looks back, and some ounce of fear must have broken through Valerian's shock, for he's running for the trees.

Vṛkā!

We are delivering Gash.

Vṛkā, he's running!

That...good.  That is good.  He will be away.  I promised he would be away.  We are delivering Gash.

Vṛkā...  Gwrtheyrn looks at the trees, watching as Valerian disappears into their shadows.  This isn't right...

As he follows Auris, Gash stirs again upon his back, raising his head to look toward Auris with a steely, if slightly unfocused gaze—though the effect is lost, meeting only the back of her head.  "First condition, Auris.  Ye promised m' that."

The silence stretches without answer or even sign she heard him.  His head flops back down against Gwrtheyrn's side with a quiet sigh.

They stop outside the Defense Force headquarters, and Auris enters, giving a bare nod to the guard at the front desk as she retrieves pen and paper, and quickly fills out her orders.  She reads it over as it dries, nods, and hands it to the guard—ah, it's Tareyna.  Good.  She's not one for questions.

Tareyna's eyes widen as she reads, but she files it away and follows Auris out, and to the courthouse.  Auris was careful to design the building to allow even the tallest of her people—for she knows none taller—to walk its halls without stooping, and now they admit even Gwrtheyrn with ease.

They take Gash back to the courthouse's holding cells.  Auris and Tareyna lift him from Gwrtheyrn's back and put him on the cot in one of them, and Auris removes the manacles.

Gash opens his eyes, squints a moment, orients himself.  "...not HQ, huh?"

"You're in the courthouse," Tareyna says.

"Hmf.  'S a lot better of a plan," Gash says, staring at Auris.

"These were never meant to be used overnight, but until the other is gone..."  Auris listens to her own voice, faintly curious at its distance.  She locks the door, finds a chair for Tareyna, nods to her, and leaves.

❂

Auris stands in the middle of the street, gazing up at the darkening sky.  A few stars are visible in the dusky purple, the color fading towards pink in the west.  It's warm.  Her clothes are damp with sweat.  How long since she's eaten?  Gwrtheyrn nudges her, and she stumbles.

We need to find Valerian, he says.  We need to go after him.

Let me rest...

He's not all right.  We need to find him.

Auris closes her eyes, and for a moment, her breath is all that exists.  In...and out...  She opens her eyes and looks at Gwrtheyrn.

We need to find him, Gwrtheyrn repeats.

Agreement.  Gwrtheyrn lowers himself so that she can climb on.

For the second time in as many nights, Gwrtheyrn lopes through the streets of the town, passes through the gate, and begins to run, disappearing into the jungle's lush foliage.  Auris belatedly mumbles a prayer to Miris to aid him, the words spoken more from habit than any true thought.  Her mind feels a windswept tundra of the upper peaks.  No.  No wind.  Only a barren expanse.

The mantle is faint; she can barely feel Miris.  She can barely feel anything.  But the divine energy seeping through her, gradually suffusing Gwrtheyrn's body, augmenting his already commendable speed—it slowly urges her back.  She can rest soon.  Just not yet.  Valerian could be in trouble.  She hugs low over Gwrtheyrn's neck as he tears through the jungle, muscles rippling beneath her as he forces his way through more by brute strength than anything else.  His mind feels an alien thing, but there's some concept of a trail, she knows.  He's following a scent.  All is not lost.  She needs to be here, needs to recover Valerian, to bring him to safety.  The tundra warms.

Movement ahead—Valerian! comes the cry from Gwrtheyrn's mind, and then he's gone, and Gwrtheyrn's confusion becomes Auris', that he was there and then he wasn't, vanished from plain sight.  The underbrush grows thicker, creeping vines reaching up and tugging at Gwrtheyrn's paws, slowing his pace.  It must be the right direction, it has to be, why does the jungle fight him so?  And Auris reaches forward, toward where Valerian was, where she hopes against hope he is still, mouthing the words he would hear in his mind: "Wait."  She needs to say more.  A single word can't be enough.  "Wait for us."  There must be something more.  "It's me, Auris, and Gwrtheyrn.  We can help you.  Please...let us help you."

Gwrtheyrn fights against the vines, every step a struggle.  Still, Auris reaches, and there's a whisper by her ear, a ragged breath, the pain of betrayal in her mind, the sharpness of an old fear resurfaced—invisible, he can make himself invisible, and he can speak to the plants themselves, he's used it to clear their path before—and the breath calms to determination, and is gone.

Gwrtheyrn breaks free, leaves and vines trailing from his feet as he continues after Valerian, and Auris sags against him.  He's running from them.  The magic about her, the energy, the presence she recognizes as Miris, is faint, and she cannot tell if it truly is, or if it's herself who's fading.  Miris may yet answer her prayer, but Auris hasn't the strength to call to her, to conduit that power.  The adrenaline that's fueled her the past day, gone.

A clearing; a newly fallen tree.  Gwrtheyrn bounds up its roots, leaping across, Auris clinging weakly to his fur.  He's still going somewhere, purposeful.  She can feel him in the back of her mind.  She knows his worry, that the trail is too faint, that he's going too fast to truly keep it, that he should've overtaken Valerian by now yet there's still no sign.

She should've been more careful.  She couldn't keep herself together to tell him, and who knows what he's assumed.  She told him to run.  Why did she tell him—but that thrice-damned promise.  A promise she only made because Gash was a fool—but he was a fool already, and she didn't see it.  She let him speak with the other at all, as though ignoring it would make it go away, and he made those deals, and she let him escape when she learned of them, let herself believe the memory from the swamps could still be old, old enough not to matter—as though ignoring something would make it go away.  As though it had ever worked before.  Mistake after mistake...

The trail is gone.  Gwrtheyrn hasn't stopped.  Why hasn't he stopped?  She knows he's lost the scent.  Why does he continue?  ...the hideout.  He's running back to Gash's hideout.  Doesn't he know Valerian won't be there?  He's running from them.  Everything she's done...

Her mother stumbles and falls.  There's a bolt in her back, and it's too late.  It doesn't matter what Auris does, doesn't matter the revenge she exacts upon anyone, for she didn't see it in time, and now it's too late, and the damage is done.  Should she just ignore it now, like she always has?  Like she ignored Valerian's pain when it was too much for her, and walked away from him to see to other things?  Yes, some inner sanctum of her mind whispers.  Yes.  Be at rest.

Eventually, even Gwrtheyrn slows, and stops.  The hideout is empty.  He cannot hear Sunwolf.  He cannot find Valerian.  He raises his head to the sky, and lets out a long, haunting howl.  The jungle itself seems to pause at the sound, and a deep silence fills the air in its wake.

Beyond the trees, the moon shines pale in the sky.