Donovan had been surprised when Maren reacted so strongly to the checkpoint.

He patted her gently and said soothing things, but she seemed to get worse. He looked back towards the line of speeders and saw one of the field medics hovering nearby. Donovan thought it likely Beven had told the man to stand by in case he was needed.

Donovan waved him over. He had no idea if the man could help because it seemed that Maren was not having physical issues, but emotional issues.

The medic came quickly and looked to Donovan for an explanation.

"She can't stop panicking. She's been hyperventilating since the checkpoint," he said quietly.

The medic nodded, dropped his pack, and crouched beside them.

"Happens sometimes after things like speeder crashes. I can help," the medic said.

Donovan was relieved.

"Can you help her sit up?" the medic asked.

Donovan nodded and pulled Maren up to a sitting position. It was like moving a rag doll. He propped her up and sat behind her.

The medic crouched in front of them and spoke in a firm but kind voice, "Hello, Maren. My name is Fred. I'm going to help you, alright?"

At the sound of her name, Maren jerked her head to look at Fred.

Donovan held her firmly and said, "It's all right, he's all right, he's here to help."

"Maren, all I need you to do is purse your lips like you're trying to whistle and breathe through your mouth. Can you purse your lips for me?"

Donovan was surprised. He thought Fred might give her a tranquilizer or something, not breathing exercises. But he certainly knew more about what to do than Donovan did.

Maren must've done it because Fred said, "Great, you're doing very well. Just keep doing that."

It did seem to help for whatever reason. After a few minutes, Maren's breathing slowed and Fred seemed pleased. Then, he switched Maren to taking slow deep breaths that he counted out loud for a while.

"How are you feeling? Better?" Fred asked.

Maren nodded. She had stopped crying and seemed to have returned to herself.

"Good. You keep taking those deep breaths for a few minutes. I'll be right back."

He rose and then said quietly to Donovan, "I just want to make sure she can breathe on her own for a bit. I'll just be by the speeders if you need me, Your Majesty."

Donovan nodded. He did not really understand how Fred had helped, but he could tell he had. He felt Maren breathing slowly and steadily against him and thought she'd be alright, at least for the moment.

He'd need to speak to Fred that evening to make sure he learned what to do in case that happened again.

"How are you, love?" he said softly to her.

She kept breathing for a bit before answering but said in a quiet voice, "Been better. Been worse."

He thought that sounded acceptable for the moment.

"We'll sit here as long as you like," Donovan said.

"Just a few more minutes," she said. 

It was really a very pleasant spot to sit. The sun was shining, and the sky was blue. They were far enough north that there was a chill in the air, but it wasn't cold. They were sitting in something like a meadow beside the road, with tall green grass and small bushes. It would have been the perfect place for a picnic.

After a bit, Maren declared she was ready to go. Donovan tried to carry her, but she wouldn't let him.

"Gods, no! I can walk. This is embarrassing enough as it is," she said.

"Maren, love, there's no need to be embarrassed," he insisted.

She looked at him sharply, "And you wouldn't be?"

"Ah...well...it's different for men," he said, and then instantly regretted it when he saw how furious it made her.

"And how do you think it is for a queen who holds the oaths of two dozen men?" she snapped and then walked off towards the convoy.

He followed her. Strangely, seeing her angry made him feel a bit better. She was behaving more like herself, which meant he worried less about her. He would apologize later.

"Are you well, Your Majesty?" Fred asked Maren.

She nodded and said, "I thank you for your assistance."

"It was no trouble, Your Majesty, only I do apologize for using your name, I know it isn't proper, but I've found it's the best way to speak to someone in that state," Fred explained.

Maren gave a bitter laugh. "I'm certainly not in a position to insist on proper protocol."

Poor Fred had no idea how to respond to that, so Donovan felt that was a good time to suggest they return to the speeder.

It was quiet in the speeder. Fred had replaced Phillips, which Donovan thought was Beven's doing and a good idea. Maren sat as far away from him as possible, resolutely looking out the window.

He knew she needed space, so that's what he'd give her. He needed space of his own to understand what had happened.

The Tracker checkpoint was not ideal, obviously. But even if there had been violence, it would have been dealt with easily. Surely, Maren knew that short of Kieran himself, nothing could really get in their way-especially not when they were with the soldiers. And if Kieran had been there, they would've found out very quickly.

He wished he could talk to Alec. He was so much better at understanding these kinds of things than Donovan was.

He tried to think about what Alec might say to him instead of how devastated he was that he might never see his friend again.

It probably would've been something like, "Gods, man! Think what happened the last time!" because usually, Alec was pointing out something obvious based on prior events.

The last time Maren had seen Trackers was fighting them at the headquarters building, and she had been incapacitating them. Donovan did not feel like that helped answer his question.

He tried to think about the time she would've seen Trackers before that. At the Duke's house?

No, not there. In the speeder at the roadblock. Donovan never saw the men, but there had been three Trackers. Had they done something to her? He had asked about Kieran, but he hadn't asked if anything had happened to her in general.

All he knew with certainty was that they put the collar on her and then took her from the Duke's estate...to Kieran.

Donovan felt very stupid. Of course, Maren would be terrified of being taken again. And, he thought, feeling particularly dense, they had taken her powers.

He knew how it felt to not have his powers when he needed them. There really were no words to describe how awful it was. And he had only been without them for a few minutes-a terrible few minutes-but she had that collar on for what, almost two days? And that was on top of whatever Kieran had done to her!

Gods, he shouldn't be trying to figure out why Maren had an episode, he should be trying to figure out why she was ever behaving as though anything was all right.

He had known she would behave as though everything was fine even though she was struggling, but he let himself believe her façade anyway. Because he wanted her to be alright because if she could be all right, then so could he.

He sighed. They would both need quite a lot of time to heal.

His thoughts were interrupted by Maren sliding over to his side of the speeder.

"I'm still angry, but I'm also tired," she said.

"I know. That's fine, love, put your head in my lap," he said.

She did and quickly fell asleep.

-

The sun was just beginning to rise when Donovan and Maren left the camp and the Witch's Guard behind.

Maren felt guilty for leaving without saying goodbye to them, but it was for the best. Donovan explained quietly to Captain Beven that they didn't want them to see where they went. She knew they would honor their oaths, and likely more than one or two would guess something about where they were going, but there was no reason for them to have information that might cause them danger.

The night before, they camped outside the town. In the early evening, a few of the men from the fort brought their horses to the camp, while Donovan and Maren stayed in their tent.

Maren was delighted with the horses. Apparently, Jonathan ordered the fort to give them their very best ones. (She supposed he had given her horses as a wedding gift after all.) They actually had three of them-the third was just to carry supplies, and Jonathan had been generous in that regard as well. Which was good-they wanted to avoid running out of food in the mountains.

Maren knew the area around Clifton very well, since it was the nearest town to her family's estate. It was only a few hours to get to the spring that would lead them up into the mountains. She was terribly tempted to pass by her family's home, just to look at it, but she knew it was likely being watched, and more trouble was the last thing they needed.

They planned to follow the stream to Karlyn's cabin and then stay there for a few days until they felt ready to go further into the mountains.

She had no idea what was past Karlyn's cabin. They had some highly questionable sketches the military decided to call maps, but that was it. Somehow they'd have to find their way through them.

Maren didn't know how long it would take to get to the other side of the mountains, but she knew at a certain point, if they didn't make it across, they'd have to turn back to Karlyn's cabin to stay through the winter-or possibly until the baby was born.

Maren hoped very much it wouldn't come to that. The idea of having the baby with just the two of them alone was terrifying. Although, to be fair, there was very little that wasn't terrifying about their lives anymore. 

She was still feeling shaky and unsettled since what she thought of as the "episode." The men had politely ignored it altogether, which she appreciated, but Donovan kept fussing over her, which she did not.

She felt certain that the very best thing she could do was to forget everything altogether. There was nothing to be gained by doing anything else with what had happened. If everything went as they planned, they would never see Kieran or a Tracker ever again. So surely, she didn't need to dwell on the past.

They had more than enough to worry about at the present, in any case.

Maren led the way from camp on a black gelding leading the grey mare loaded with supplies. Donovan followed on a bay mare. The horses were all very well-trained, although Maren's gelding did have a strong preference for leading the way.

The sun was all the way up by the time they reached the stream. They decided to take a break and have something to eat before continuing.

Donovan stretched hugely and groaned. "I am rather unprepared for riding a horse all day."

"If it helps, I haven't done it in over a year," Maren said. She knew they would both be sore by the end of the day.

He laughed. "I don't think I've ever done it."

"Well, at least you already know how to ride. I don't think we have time for me to teach you," she said.

"Speaking of teaching, I realized yesterday I have never cooked. Anything. Ever," Donovan said.

Maren thought about that for a few moments, "Oh, I expect you haven't. I expect I wouldn't have either had I not lived with Karlyn."

"We are probably poorly suited to a life outside the cushion of the nobility," he said.

"Perhaps we should've brought a staff," Maren joked.

Donovan's face fell.

"I only just thought, I have no idea what Kieran will do with my staff. I do hope they're alright."

Maren hadn't thought of that either. There had been almost no time between determining they needed to leave and actually leaving.

"I think they'll be all right," she said, even though she really had no idea. "And...well, there are so many things that may or may not happen. We'll drive ourselves mad with the wondering."

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I suppose you're right," he said, but sounded dubious.

She turned to the saddlebag and fished out a tin of oatcakes. "Kieran will probably do a great number of awful things. I don't really want to spend my life trying to figure out what they are."

She offered him the oatcakes and he took one.

"Do you want coffee?" she asked. She didn't want any, she found it did no favors for her nausea.

"Yes, but not enough to build a fire for it," he said.

She just looked at him, smirking for a few moments.

He rolled his eyes. "You can just heat the water in the mug, can't you?"

She nodded and took out a tin mug and a packet of soluble coffee. It wasn't the greatest coffee, but it was quick and still coffee. 

Donovan took the mug from her, saying, "Well, I may not be able to boil water, but I can at least get it from the spring."

When he returned with the mug of water, she poured in the packet of coffee and then held it by the handle while using the Light with her other hand to heat the water. She carefully handed it to Donovan so neither of them burned their hands.

"You are the greatest wife any man could have," he said.

She smiled. "It's been a very long time since I used my powers for something like that. It's very satisfying."

He kissed her forehead as she nibbled on an oatcake. She hadn't had them before their trip with the military, but she found she rather liked them. They were pleasantly crunchy and nutty, and all in all, an excellent food to eat while struggling with morning sickness.

"Are you all right?" Donovan asked.

Maren sighed, "Will you ever stop asking me that?"

"I keep asking because I know you aren't alright, and I would really like for you to talk to me," he said.

Maren pursed her lips, she was getting frustrated with his fussing.

"I'm fine. Completely fine. I just want to get up in the mountains," she said.

She got back on her horse and waited for Donovan to get on his horse before setting off.

—

A/N: We're close to the end! Just a few more chapters.