Guardian (Sequel to Fearless)

Chapter Thirty Seven

A/N -- Third in three days. I'm gonna have to stop this writing madness soon and give myself time to actually do my homework.

For the next several days, the search went on. After the second day, they hadn't set foot at all on the main road. Azabela's trail had almost immediately started veering off course in the direction of the estate and out into the wild. That bode well. It had immediately become apparent that Azabela hadn't just been sacked and taken off right away. She appeared to have led them on a chase for her --whether or not that had been her intention was still unclear.

Ever since the journey to find the huntress and Dane had begun, days were too short. Nights came faster than a galloping horse, and they'd have to regretfully stop their tracking and make camp. Which, of course, made Hench terribly uneasy. It didn't matter though. Traversing the woods at night was useless. The scouts couldn't see well enough to find anything.

Everyone sat around the campfire that night, quiet and thinking. The flames flickered orange, casting a glow over all of the staring faces.

Iris was the first to look through the fire at her comrades. First, at her mentor. Hench sat there with her eyes downcast. The little hair she had on the top of her head fell down over her forehead and danced on the length of her nose. She looked so empty. Her thick mouth was drawn down in sadness and her black lashes courted droplets that glistened brightly in the firelight. Iris just stared at her for a long time.

She'd finally gotten a chance to really think about all that Hench had said to her. Iris couldn't get it off her mind. Hench thought she was a terrible mother, yet Iris couldn't fathom it. How anyone could have the strength do what she had done was so beyond the rogue. Hench had given birth at thirteen to a child born of rape, and then she had the courage to keep and raise the baby that served as proof as every wrong that had ever been done to her. On top of that, Hench had learned to love the result of the monstrous act.

Iris didn't care if loving the child at first had taken work, Hench had had the bravery to try. Not many other women in the world would have or even could have done that.

Then, Iris took in her appearance, locking on to the big muscles and shorn hair. For the first time, everything was more than it appeared. Hench had spent years becoming strong not just for combat and missions... but for security, in a misguided attempt to protect her heart. She had done everything to take away her femininity --her traditional prettiness, and Iris wondered now if it was because she was afraid of it. Iris smiled a small smile. She hadn't been able to take away everything. There was still something about Rhalla that was enigmatically beautiful.

For a moment, Iris couldn't help but wonder who Hench would be right now had she not been kidnapped.

More silence fell over the camp, and Iris hung her head back down. It was then that Iris thought nothing would ever break the somberness that fell like a cloud over all of them. And then... something did. It started off as a low rumble in the distance and grew to a loud reverberation overhead. Iris was the first to look up at the sky just in time for a cold drop to splash her on the cheek.

"Huh?" she jumped at the sudden wetness.

More drops started falling within the minute, and all the soldiers and guardians were roused to their feet. They hadn't even begun to set up their tents yet, which all of them would regret when the little drips quickly turned into a steady drizzle and went on to a pour that drenched all of them and put out the campfire they'd lit.

When the fire went out, the moonlight was the only light in the camp. And that source blinked in and out under dark, moving clouds, leaving them in a night black as pitch for long increments of time. The thick sound of breathing was the only thing that could be sensed in the shadowy lapses.