23. Choice

The man called Sandor spoke little, as she came to find. But he led them through the dark with enviable skill, and having no choice Ravenna did her utmost in keeping to his lively pace. They could not linger and so they did not, and a predawn twilight draped the world by the time they reached a lonely murmuring stream in the woods, set in their way. Ravenna rushed by the bank and knelt to the ground, allowing her belongings to fall at her side. She cupped her hands and proceeded to wash her face.

The icy water was invigorating to her tired skin, and it was much needed after yet another sleepless night. All that had happened left her drained, both of body and mind. Ravenna felt depleted, and aching in more ways than one. It was rather astonishing to find how many tints and shades of pain existed. Until recently she had only known the physical kind. Even now her head and feet complained the more she pushed herself, but the young woman steeled her resolve and marched on. And the stranger would not wait. Ravenna saw he appeared to be in some amount of haste and she attributed it to his outspoken wish in reaching his home sooner than later. Yes, physical pain she could weather. But then there was the darker shade, the one which clouded the spirit and turned the soul into a murky basin of regret and resent. That which came of need and remembrance. She missed him.

Just as Ravenna was foolishly dwelling on the memory of summer bloom scents and porcelain skin, she felt Sandor come to stand beside her. Looking upward Ravenna saw his gaze cast ahead of them.

"You are weary," Sandor stated without looking her way. "We are not far off now."

He had revealed that his hut was located near the main road she would need to take in order to eventually reach the northern border of Wallachia. Ravenna recalled that path through the mountains previously taken, and decided that would be her goal. For better or worse, she was yet alive and in good strength, though the dent in her chest remained and the storm clouds burdening her mood persisted. She loathed how images flitted before her mind's eye and refused to disperse. Most involved him, in moments she both wanted to relive and forget. Ravenna wondered how he was faring, and ached all the more thinking of the emptiness he dwelt in, and of what brought him there.

"Here," she heard, and turning her head saw Sandor's outstretched hand, offering her something. "Dried bread husk. Not the most sought for delicacy, but it goes on the road. You must be famished, you certainly look it."

Ravenna eyed the offering with unveiled suspicion, and Sandor sighed tiredly. "Why would I spare you, only to poison you later?" His crooked smile revealed straight even teeth.

She thought there was something wolfish about his appearance, as though he was ever on edge and scouring his surroundings for unseen foes. Still Ravenna conceded and reached for the piece of dried food. She was so weak her head had begun a light spin. "Thank you." As Ravenna revealed her palm to receive the offering her naked wrist was exposed, along with the two bite marks still marring her skin. She saw his gaze linger for mere moments before his eyes slowly trailed up to hers. Ravenna took the food from him and hastily retrieved her wrist. "It is not what you think."

"And how would you know what I think?" Sandor sat down crossing his legs, completely unaffected by what he had seen and apparently uncaring of her unease.

Ravenna lowered her eyes to the flowing waters. The growing variations of birdsong heralded an early dawn making its way through the forest. "I was attacked."

"And your other wrist?" Sandor asked then, his tone unchanged, and Ravenna felt compelled to tell him it was none of his business. Then again, she did owe him civility for the essential aid he provided if nothing else.

"That is too long a story to tell," Ravenna settled, and to her relief there was no prodding from his side. She saw him shrug from the corner of her eye as Sandor rose to his feet.

"We must resume," he said shortly, and though her bones and muscles gave her the usual grief Ravenna rose with a sigh and retrieved her satchel. His question had stirred memories she would rather stayed buried, but there was no such luck. She still felt his desperate grip, remembered his lips, the way his silky tongue licked the blood off her wrist. And then he was holding her to him, his hand roaming over her hip, pressing her against-

Ravenna stumbled on a jagged rock she had not seen during her daydreaming. She groaned in pain and cursed, for the first time in a long time.

Sandor was smirking when she passed him by.

They carried for yet some time, their boots gaining the sheen of dew as it veiled the land in a vaporous shimmer. In the light of day Ravenna took to studying her guide better. He wore leather garments of brown and black. His crossbow was slung across his back, and a number of short blades were lined at his belt. He was young as she had first surmised, with bright green eyes and dark brown hair. His square jaw boasted no facial hair though it was framed by messy locks, and Ravenna had the queer impression she had seen those features before. She blinked the strange thought away. She did wonder at his occupation, while at the same time considering it was perhaps not the brightest curiosity to have, concerning an armed stranger one stumbled upon in perilous woods.

It was not long before Ravenna discerned a structure looming ahead of them, and she saw the young man quicken his steps. The time may have been early in the morning.

"And you say the road is nearby, somewhere?" Ravenna called after him, inspecting the area and finding it quite wild and hidden.

"That it is," Sandor offered as he walked, turning briefly to see if she followed.

The structure was clearly discernible now, and it certainly looked to be more than a hut. Its walls were well built and straight though in a deprecating state, and the house boasted a stone roof. It did not inspire too much trust, not in the least, but anything would do. Anywhere safe from beast and demon would do. To Ravenna, respite had never been as rare a commodity as it was now. She turned a bleary eye to Sandor, who had neared the wide darkwood door and produced a large key. The man unlocked the entrance and went inside, Ravenna following in his wake. There was a bothersome, prickling sensation at the back of her neck, surging down her spine, but she attributed it to her debilitating exhaustion.

"We have arrived, sister," Ravenna heard Sandor speak as she entered, and frowned. There was someone else here? A family?

As she passed inside upon the creaking wooden floors, Ravenna looked up curiously, to see a woman sitting with her legs crossed on a wooden table. She went livid.

"Well done, Sandor," the words greeted her even as Ravenna whirled towards the door, in time to see the man locking it.

"Deceiver!" she cried, but Sandor only crossed his arms and looked away.

Ravenna turned back to face the woman, who had risen in the meanwhile and was approaching her with a predatory gait. She narrowly avoided the gloved hand swiping at her even as another seized her roughly by her collar. Ravenna stared into glinting eyes of an inhuman shine. Eyes she had seen before.

Zsuzsa watched her with contempt, shaking Ravenna harshly for good measure. She leaned in and inhaled Ravenna as a wild beast would. Her face darkened. "Disgusting. You reek of vampire," she hissed, throwing Ravenna to the ground.

Ravenna turned to Sandor. "I trusted you," she seethed.

Sandor seemed not to hear her, studying his fingernails with increasing interest. "I beg your forgiveness, but family comes first," he muttered.

A guttural sound which may have been laughter left Zsuzsa's throat. "You will find less mercy from my brother, believe it or not, than you would from me." Then the huntress knelt beside Ravenna, who had hunched into a wall with her arms protectively around herself. She was yet attempting to comprehend the enormity of it all.

"I must admit, it was a good day indeed, when I caught sight of you in Bran. There you were, straggling through the mud, wide eyed and looking so very grieved..." her face changed, and there was an unnatural glint in her gaze. "I had to take this chance you see," she reached for Ravenna, who drew away. Swifter than lightning Zsuzsa grasped Ravenna by her throat, her eyes narrowing. "I remember you well, oh yes. It is because of you that a good part of my guild is gone. You threw that potion at me, little witch. When I regained myself they were dead, and you were gone. You and that vampire," she spat.

The grip of roughened hands grew tighter, and Ravenna was soon gasping for air under the huntress' unyielding fingers.

"Well, either way," Zsuzsa rose, hovering over the young woman. "Before I could act those fucking tramps interfered. And so you see, I had to send Sandor to retrieve you," and she aimed a glance at him.

"What now?" Sandor asked, still propped against the door.

"I always liked to think of myself as practical," Zsuzsa continued. A wolven smile lined her features. "But those were our brothers." Her messy hair waved about her face as she reached and dragged Ravenna up suddenly.

"You should have thought of that before leading them into a life of hunting things that feed on humans," Ravenna threw, cursing herself for her foolish trust. It would be the end of her. "He spared you," she seethed darkly.

Zsuzsa struck her across the face so hard blood spilled from the corner of her lips. "You will lead me to the vampire." She gripped Ravenna's chin with bruising strength, and her eyes gained a murderous sheen. "And you will stand and watch as I spear him full of silver. Then, I will cut out his heart and severe his head from his shoulders." The huntress gripped her still healing wrist so powerfully Ravenna hissed in pain. "And once he is turned to ashes, I will attempt to at least get my money's worth out of you. I have friends you see... and you seem to be out of an occupation."

"And what if I refuse?" Ravenna braved.

The huntress laughed with the burgeoning intonation of one gone mad. "Then I kill you now, and track him down anyway. Of course," she waved dismissively, "it may take me longer, but in the end, girl, I always get what I want."

"You cannot, he will kill you, you know he will," Ravenna said hastily, trying reason. "You would be going straight to your deaths," she hoped to deter them.

Zsuzsa rolled her eyes. "And who said we would be going alone?"

Those hard cut orbs were unwavering as the huntress spoke, and Ravenna shivered. She thought of the manuscript, and of her goal. If she met her end here the valuable piece of aid may never reach master Ovidius, leaving his research barren and lacking an essential component. And she will have failed. Staying alive was the better option. Staying alive meant chances of escape, however improbable. And despite her heart crying traitor and her chest caving in on itself at the thought, Ravenna hoped Adrian would somehow become aware of the intruders in time.

"Well, what will it be? Live or die? Choose before I lose what little patience is left to me," the huntress growled.

Ravenna lifted her head. Her hands balled into fists. "I choose to live."

A/N:

*bows low* Thank you for your reviews! This is post-season 3 therapy for me, too.

Wait for it...