Foxheart

Chapter Sixty-Five

Esme stumbled through the dark, her fingers entwined with Fox's. She glanced at his back, broad and comforting, then at their hands dimly revealed by her light. His grip was strong and tight, utterly unwavering, and feeling such strength oddly gave Esme courage. She found she could think a little more clearly and her head was less cluttered with horrific memories of the murder she had committed. Instead, she thought about Fox's expression only a short time ago, warm and mesmerised, and how much she had wanted to kiss him. To just reach up and pull him close.

Her face turned a deep shade of pink as her mouth burned. She stared at Fox, eyeing his hair tufting at odd angles, the thickness of his arms and sure footed gait, and she found she didn't want to die yet. In fact, she didn't want to die at all, not while she was with him. She wanted to live, beside him, holding his hand, kissing his face, for as long as she could. But she was well aware that wasn't going to happen. She was well aware she had to be shot for what she had done, and it was only a matter of time before her truth was revealed or she was captured.

Fox turned sharply, gesturing ahead. His eyes glowed almost and, despite covered in dirt, he was wonderful to look at to her and made her heart flutter. He made her grounded yet floaty, a strange mix of a dream-like state and sanity. Her tongue thickened as she wanted to speak out and murmur some kind of confession but she found she couldn't utter a word.

'Nearly there now. Absolon's signin' gettin' louder.'

Esme silently nodded and squeezed her hands tighter in his as a she realised she wanted to kiss him. She desperately did, even if it was just once. She'd feel happy to go, just so long as she told him and made it clear how she felt. To say sorry for getting him in this mess.

As Fox promised, the light at the end of the tunnel literally bloomed. Absolon singing was indeed getting louder as he hurried ahead, eager to bask in the daylight and fresh air. There, waving in the tunnel, was the same miner who had guided them through. A man they could trust.

'Vixen and Fox. Heard there's trouble.' He said meaningfully as he came to their side.

Fox nodded as he tugged Esme closer to him. 'Yeah. Badger's been found.'

He swore sharply. 'Then with me. I'll take you to the safe place.'

He took them out of the murky tunnel and she stopped abruptly, wincing from the hot sun that glared down from above. Before her spread out the world, a world she had almost forgotten existed. Beyond the working men and mining shacks were trees, birds and clouds, sloping hills and a vast sky. Esme breathed in the fresh air. It cleared the dirt from her lungs and the horrors from her mind. It had been so long since she had seen the outside. So long since she was chucked in that cell, waiting for death. But now she was here, surrounded by a blue sky and bright light, and alive, holding Fox's hand. It helped lift the oppressive self-hatred on her back and thin the blood on her hands. Her head became clearer, pushing back the memories further.

But Esme didn't have much of a chance to bask in the freedom. Fox was tugging her into a walk.

'Come on.' He said urgently. 'No time to gawk.'

She allowed him to drag her away. He was right. The police and White Wizards wouldn't be held off for long from the cave-in. She had to get away.

The thought made her pause. Get away? Why did she want to get away? She was guilty. She had murdered her aunt. But the memories didn't press as hard and the guilt didn't devour her whole and a voice in her head told her she had to run. So she ran.

The miner bundled them into a clapped up old clockwork car and she settled in the side, not liking the sweltering heat and stink of metal and leather, with Absolon on her lap, swooning from the heat. Fox sat close to her, closer than he needed to, and he kept glancing outside as the car zoomed off, following the curving countryside roads. He fingers kept clasping and unclasping, turning his knuckles white, and his whole body was tense. He was worried. Maybe even scared. Hesitantly, she reached across and gently slipped her fingers in his. He stiffened and glanced at her, his eyes searching, but she simply smiled comfortingly and remained quiet. They remained like that for the rest of the journey, fingers twisting together and staring nervously out of the windows, until eventually they came to a stop.