Chapter 22
"Shhh!" The voice, low and urgent, hissed in her ear but Bella, angry and petrified beneath the weight of another body, continued to squirm.
"Please!" the voice hissed again. Bella felt a tickle of long hair on her face as the figure moved its head. "Please, be quiet!"
Bella wormed and wiggled, her eyes brimming over with tears until she heard her captor hiss softly and duck down. The figure's arm, trembling and shaking, held Bella's face in the dirt, and she gasped, taking in a mouthful of soil.
"Shush!" hissed the voice again. "Shhh! I promise I won't hurt you… Just keep your head down and your mouth shut!"
Bella, breathless and terrified, fell silent and still.
"No!" wailed the voice of the first man— the skinny, stinking man who'd been in hot pursuit. "No! Dammit!"
The figure holding her down shivered again.
"Find her!" he screeched. Birds, angry and tittering, rose in a flock from the treetops. "Find her, dammit! FIND HER!"
Footsteps shook the ground beneath them as the men drew nearer. Bella, nearly whimpering with terror, pressed her cheek even deeper into the cool, wet earth until she could smell nothing but musk and taste nothing but dirt. The figure on top of her was as still as a corpse— only the ragged, sharp breaths on the back of Bella's neck told her otherwise.
The figure's head came down next to Bella's, and her vision was clouded by a mass of long, blonde hair.
"Shh…" the voice soothed again. "Shh… just keep quiet and still…"
Bella, wide-eyed and trembling, dug her tooth into her lip so deep that she tasted blood. The weight on her back— crushing and stinging on her still-sore ribs— did not lessen until they heard the crashing of feet off in the distance, and the angry wailing of the skinny man bouncing off of the trees in the thicket to the west. Only when the dark, cool night was eerily silent once more, the shouts of the first man tampered down to a distant screech, did the weight on Bella's back ease and she gasped, flopping over to her back as quickly as she could.
She rounded on the figure, hazy and shadowed beneath the nearest spindly tree. Bella squinted through the dark, her hands raised to ward off another assault, but when her eyes fell on the tall, hunched figure kneeling against the tree trunk, she fell still and silent.
It was not, as Bella had expected, some man come to find her. It was not a soldier, nor a Prince, nor a healer, nor a King…
It was a woman.
Her eyes blazed blue in the strip of moonlight that struck her face. Dark though it was, Bella could see the paleness of her skin, so like many of the Maronese people she'd met in the Capital, and though she struggled to make out details in the dark, her squinted eyes could just make out some of the wariness on her face.
And what a beautiful face it was.
Bella could not look away. Staring at her, frowning like an idiot, she felt her cramped arms slacken and fall as the mystery woman remained still and silent. Bella fell onto her backside, the skirt of her slip squishing in the mud, and they blinked, frowning at each other, until the mystery woman drew herself upright.
"I'm sorry," she said. Her voice was low and musical. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
"Who are you?" Bella demanded quickly. "What are you doing out here?"
The woman, glancing down at her wet, filthy, and wary companion, cracked a small smile.
"I might ask you the same question," she said. When she reached down and offered her hand, Bella took it carefully. Her grip was strong— thin though she was, with dark, bruised circles under her eyes, she did not waver as she hauled Bella to her feet, grimacing with pity when Bella tried to brush the wet, sticky mud off of her clothes.
"Who are those men?" Bella glanced nervously towards the place where they had vanished. "What are they looking for?"
The woman shook her head.
"We cannot tarry," she said softly. "We cannot linger here."
"But…"
"They will come back," said the woman urgently. "They always do. And now that they've seen you…"
Bella shivered in the dark.
"They'll come back. Maybe with men, maybe with dogs, maybe both…"
Wind blew down from the trees, sending a flutter of small, silvery leaves to the forest floor.
"We must move. And I must return."
"Return?"
The woman surveyed her, her lips suddenly tight. Bella saw the distrust marring her face at once— that same suspicious, angry, righteous resistance that was rising high in Bella's own breast. She did not know this woman, and this woman did not know her. Bella did not know if she was friend or foe, or something so foul that those men— those stinking, grabbing, dangerous men— might be the kinder alternative. She surveyed Bella for a long moment, and Bella watched her, too… watched those piercing blue eyes rove over her face, her neck, her arms. They paused on her forehead, where the angry gash had reopened to drip blood onto the white front of her undershirt. They paused on her waist, where the dress, once tight, now hung loose and sagging. They stopped altogether on her wrist, which was swollen, purple, and stinging again after hard fall down the precipice, and finally, she stared at Bella's face, open, exhausted, and hostile though it must be.
"You're hurt," said the woman gently.
Bella did not argue.
"You're… weak."
Her shaking limbs and tearful eyes could not hide this truth, either.
"Your dress…"
The skirt was still tied around Bella's throat. The waist, which had been pulled and tugged, was beyond repair, hanging limply from the loose stitches around her chest. Her slip was filthy— what had once been white was stained brown with grime, and her legs, spindly and stick-thin since her recent bedrest, poked out like two matchsticks from a box.
"Did they… touch you?"
"No," Bella said honestly. "Not like that…"
Her skin crawled with sudden revulsion. The woman looked inexplicably relieved.
"Good," she said. She rested her head against the trunk of the tree. Her shoulders slumped when she sighed. "Good…"
A branch, far off in the distance, snapped noisily in the dark, and Bella, already on edge, yelped. The woman's eyes widened with sudden fear as the sound echoed off of the nearby trees, bouncing down along the rocks until it seemed to ring out all around them, mocking
"Shhh!" The woman flapped her hands. "Be quiet!"
Hands clamped on her mouth, Bella clenched her eyes shut and fought back the tears that had risen like waves, biting the inside of her cheek. She felt a gentle touch on her shoulder as she stood, wiping angrily at her face.
"We must move," said the mystery woman again. Her voice was low and hoarse now. "We cannot tarry here..."
Bella, rising carefully to her feet, wrapped her arms around her middle. Everything in her screamed resistance— don't be stupid. Do not follow this woman. Do not let her lead you into some new danger, where God only knows what vile fate awaits you...
But when the woman took her hand, the pressure was grounding. Bella squeezed those fingers as tightly as she dared, the last of her sanity clinging to this new and heartfelt warmth like a lifeline.
"Come." The woman tugged on her arm. "We must move…"
Another branch cracked and Bella, all protests forgotten, stumbled after her new guide on shaking legs.
The woman moved quickly through the maze of tall, spindly trees. Bella struggled to keep up— her legs were short and her muscles were weak, but this woman was tall and strong. She had a good six inches on Bella. Her arms, bare and gleaming in the light from the moon, were strong and wiry. Her grip did not falter. When Bella stumbled, catching her toe on a hidden root or stone, the woman held fast to her hand, keeping her upright and moving. Bella did not suffer any more injuries under the woman's watch. She moved with a purpose. Trails that Bella could not see and landmarks she could not distinguish seemed to guide them, and though Bella could make neither head nor tail of the woman's strange bends and turns, she moved, without stopping once, until the moon was high overhead and the spidery trees had made way for the familiar thick, gnarled trunks she'd moved through earlier.
Only when they were hidden in the shadow of a particularly large, imposing trunk did the woman stop, panting as she let go of Bella's hand. Bella slipped to the ground as her legs turned to jelly, and she rested her cheek on her sharp and sweaty knee.
"I'm sorry," said the woman, breathless. "I know you're tired…"
Bella said nothing, swallowing back the bile that rose in her throat. The exertion made her nauseous— she could feel her stomach twisting and snarling, though it had nothing to give up…
She wretched nonetheless.
"Shhh…" The woman held her braid and fanned her neck. "Shhh… I'm sorry, love."
Bella shook her head.
"Thank you," she croaked hoarsely. "For…"
But the woman, looking anxious and tense, shook her head.
"Don't," she said gently. "Don't thank me yet. We're not any closer to safety than we were a few hours ago, though I suppose we are closer to a reprieve."
Bella frowned.
"Can you walk?" asked the woman. She knelt by Bella's side. "It's not much further."
"What's not much further?" Bella asked.
"My… home," she finished awkwardly. "Or what I've been calling home for the past little while."
Bella, confused, shook her head.
"Come," said the woman again. Bella, wanting nothing more than to sink into the leaves and sleep, hauled herself away from the mess she had made, and took the sweaty hand back in hers.
"Slowly now," said the woman softly. "I've heard nothing for almost an hour."
Bella frowned.
"Where are we?" she asked. The jungle looked exactly as it had when she first started out at the base of the precipice. "Where have we gone?"
"We're just east of the mountains," explained the woman. "South of the pass."
"Pass?" Bella asked dazedly. "What pass?"
The woman stared at her, astonished.
"The mountain pass," she said slowly. Bella felt the fingers tighten around her own. "The pass through the mountains, the one that leads to…"
Bella, dumbfounded, shook her head.
"I'm not… well-versed in maps," she said slowly. The woman stared at her. "I'm not…"
The woman halted, and Bella stumbled.
"Where did you come from?" she asked.
Bella hedged.
"What happened to drive you into the trees?"
Bella frowned.
"I…"
The woman's face was a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Bella had seen that look before— the look of someone who wanted desperately to know more, yet who feared what she might learn.
"The Capital," Bella said slowly. "I want to go to the Capital."
The woman, still frowning, nodded slowly.
"But where did you come from?" she asked. "How did you get here, in the jungle, wearing an old mourning dress?"
The black skirt around her neck fluttered in the wind. The woman, shivering slightly, backed away to see her more clearly, though Bella, suddenly fearful, huddled back against a tree.
"I…"
The woman remained silent.
"There was a… ceremony," Bella said awkwardly. She did not have all the words she needed. "There was a… fire."
The woman's jaw slackened, and her eyes went wide.
"Terosankta," she murmured gently. "By the Gods…"
Bella, sniffling in the chill, nodded her head.
"Did they…" The woman's cheeks went red. "Did they…"
"They attacked," Bella said quietly. "The men from the West. They attacked us while we burned them…"
"They what?" she said. Bella thought she saw anger on that pretty face now. "They what?"
"They… attacked."
"Attacked?"
"Swords," Bella said nervously, "and axes. Arrows. Shields…"
"You?" The woman spoke incredulously. "They attacked you?"
"The King," Bella whimpered. She hoped he was safe. "The King, and the Prince, and the Healer…"
The woman spit on the ground at Bella's feet, and she jumped in surprise.
"Malbone!" she hissed. "Malbone, the lot of them!"
Bella, surprised by her vehemence, said nothing.
"Did they complete the ritual?" she asked. "Tell me that the fire burned out…"
"I…" Bella shook her head. "I don't know. I ran before it finished, and I fell…"
She spat again. Her face, a hard mask of disgust and anger, softened only when Bella jumped, her nerves showing on her face.
"Mea culpa," said the woman quickly, and it struck Bella suddenly that she knew those words from somewhere other than the Island. "Mea culpa… I'm sorry for what they did."
"It wasn't you," said Bella. "But thank you."
The woman curled her lip.
"It isn't right," she said quietly, "to deny the dead their due. It isn't… holy."
Bella forced back the image of those bodies on the beach, and bit her tongue to keep her mouth shut. This woman, whoever she was, did not want to be burdened with Bella's nightmares.
"And it isn't holy to attack a King," she continued. "And the Prince… the Prince is just a boy, is he not?"
Bella, her eyes full of worried tears, nodded her head. Jasper had killed a man, she thought. He'd cut him down, struck him dead...
"I just hope…" The woman spoke almost too quietly for Bella to hear, and her head snapped up. "Nevermind."
Bella knew better than to pry. Quiet and careful, she drew herself up again and stepped out of the shadow of the tree, carefully coming to stand beside her mystery companion.
"We've tarried too long," said the woman gently. "We must get back. If…"
She bit her lip again.
"If what?" Bella asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong. You'll see soon enough."
The foreboding in Bella's stomach was only outmatched by her fear of being left alone, and so, despite her misgivings, she followed the woman into the dark.
When they came to the mouth of the cave, Bella would have walked right on by had the woman not stopped.
"Here," she said, gesturing to spot on the overgrown cliffside. Bella glanced up and down, left and right, her brow furrowed in careful observation.
The side of the embankment near which they were stopped was high and steep. Like so many cliffs Bella had come across on the edge of this mountain range, it was made of rough, grey stone that protruded in sharp angles and edges. Above, Bella saw more trees. Some fifty feet above her head, the jungle seemed to stretch on forever, and Bella wondered just how high a person would have to climb before the trees thinned for good, and they found themselves on the mountain proper.
"Through here," said the woman in a hush. "Quietly."
Bella, confused, took another step forward. The detritus beneath her feet was thick and troublesome, and she picked a careful path towards the cliff face, her hands reaching out to grab the vines and bracken trailing down from the top.
"Are we climbing?" asked Bella, her stomach lurching. "I don't know if…"
"No," panted the woman. She slipped past Bella to touch the stone. "Not climbing…"
Bella stared at her as she began to move. Hugging the wall, the woman began to skirt her way slowly to the left, her fingers groping blindly in the vines for some handle Bella could not see.
"What…?"
"Just a minute," said the woman. "Just give me a second…"
It only took another few moments before the woman's face broke into an inexplicable smile. Fist buried deep in the green overgrowth, Bella watched as she gave an almighty tug, and to her infinite surprise, a dull wash of orange light spilled over Bella's feet.
"Quickly," said the woman. Bella stared, dumbstruck, into the brightness. "Quickly, before someone sees!"
The orange glow was like a beacon in the dark. It stung her eyes— it was so bright in the midnight darkness— and Bella, with a sudden rush of fear, bolted forward towards the alcove from which it emanated. She crashed through the grass, stumbling clumsily through the space in the leaves, and promptly tripped over a pile of furs near the entranceway and fell, sprawled out on the cool, stone floor.
The woman followed quickly after her and hissed as Bella, grimacing, peeled herself off of the ground. Ignoring her bloodied knees and palms, she blinked, dumbstruck, at the sight.
The night's cool air had been driven out by a small, glowing fire in the center of the space. The rough stone walls were close and the ceiling, low, but that cheery, orange glow made the space cozy and warm. A stack of furs, mismatched and worn, were stacked by the entranceway. A wooden pail of water, still and clear, sat near the side wall. Next to the fire, on a crude spit carved from a gnarled, wooden branch, were the remains of two cooked rabbits, the carcasses picked clean. The back of the cave was dark— so dark that Bella could not see what lay beyond, though if she squinted, she thought she could make out another pile of furs.
Bella blinked stupidly as the woman rearranged the vines until the night sky outside was invisible, and she sank, breathless, into the furs by the door.
"Thank the Gods," she sighed quietly. "Thank the Gods we made it."
Bella stared at her, her eyes wide.
"What is this place?" Bella asked. "Where are we?"
"The eastern side of the mountains, praise the Gods," said the woman. She gave Bella a cursory glance before she began rummaging in a sac near the fire. "We've made it this far."
This far…
Bella kept her mouth shut.
"We're near the cliffs," she said quietly. "Near the Cave, if my estimations are correct."
"The Cave?"
The woman pulled a small, whittled cup from the sac. Dipping the brim in the pail of water, she handed it carefully to Bella, who guzzled it down in a single gulp. The woman filled it again for her.
"The old mines," said the woman. She continued digging. "I suspect, though I don't know, that this cave was a holding place."
"Holding place for what?" Bella brushed the sand from her new wounds.
"Wood, ore, minerals, metals, men…" The woman hauled a rolled white bandage from the sac. "I wouldn't know."
Bella grimaced, pulling a sharp shard of stone from her knee.
"But we're far from the pass, that's for sure," said the woman. "Far from the…"
"The what?"
The woman hesitated.
"Nothing," she said quietly. "Nothing of importance just now."
Bella opened her mouth to protest.
"Come here," said the woman gently. "Sit by the fire and let me see those wounds. Your leg is bleeding."
And sure enough, when Bella glanced down at her calves, she saw that the cut from the attacker's blade at the burning ceremony had opened yet again, and was dripping large, red droplets onto the stone.
Bella went placidly to the fireside. The warmth, so dry and welcoming, made her drowsy as the woman peeled back her filthy skirt and tutted. Bella watched her dip the edge of a cloth into the basin of water, and she bit back her cry when she began dabbing at the wound.
"You'll get an infection," said the woman lowly. "Wounds should be kept clean."
"I know that," Bella sighed. "But…"
The woman bit her tongue, and Bella bit back another cry when she began to wrap the white linen bandage around her calf, much tighter than Carlisle would have.
Carlisle… Bella thought. And Esme. She hoped they were safe...
"Sorry," said the woman. "But I must."
Bella kept her mouth shut. The woman worked with steady, gentle hands, and before long, Bella felt the sharp pain recede and a dull ache set in, throbbing in time with her pulse.
"Thank you," she said gruffly. "I appreciate it…"
The woman waved her off.
"It's nothing," she said, reaching for Bella's hands. She wiped them clean with the wet cloth, but otherwise left them alone. "It's no more than you'd do for me, I'm sure…"
"How long have you been here?" asked Bella softly. "And why?"
The woman sighed.
"Two days," she murmured. "I've been here two days, ever since I caught sight of those two thugs when I went to check the traps."
"Traps?"
The woman jerked her chin at the rabbit carcasses.
"Oh." Bella took the cloth herself, when it was offered, and wiped gingerly at the cut on her forehead. Blood that had dried black on her face came back red and wet when the water touched it, and her head ached when the wound began to ooze once more. The woman dragged the pail of water even closer, and Bella gratefully accepted the second cloth to wash her face.
"There's more in the stream," said the woman gently. "So you go ahead. I'll wash in the morning, once I've checked the perimeter."
"Stream?" Bella asked, wiping the cloth over her arms. Brown dirt made way for white flesh, and she grimaced when she rinsed out the cloth, turning the water grey.
"About a hundred feet down," said the woman, gesturing vaguely to the left. "There's plenty of fresh water, and fish to eat."
Bella, scrubbing anxiously at her neck, nodded her understanding.
The woman watched her for only a moment, before she turned her back and began rifling through another sac. Bella took the opportunity to dip the cloth down the neck of her dress, and finished just in time for the woman to turn back around.
"Here," she said, and Bella's eyes widened at the sight of the offering. "You can hardly go out in that, when it's time for us to move."
Us. The woman had said us, not me. Bella stared at her, dumbfounded, until the woman rolled her eyes and placed the bundle by Bella's left hip, looking awkward and nervous.
"I've got plenty," she said quietly. "Don't worry yourself over it. Just…"
Bella eyed the basin of water with renewed urgency, and the woman nodded eagerly.
"Yes," she said. "Wash yourself and put those on." The clothing, warm, soft, and serviceable, was reason enough for Bella to listen. "When you're done, we'll talk."
Bella, unable to say anything else, nodded her silent agreement and stared, dumbstruck, as the woman retreated to the furs at the back of the cave. Bella watched her in the dark— what little of her she could see, anyhow— and waited until she had laid her head down on the furs, her arms reaching out to grab something Bella could not see, before she stripped.
The dress fell off in a wet, stinking heap. Grimacing at the sight of it, she began her quick and diligent duty of washing. She had not been away from a wash basin for that long— the morning of the ceremony, only three days prior, she had scrubbed herself raw in an effort to stave off the sweat from the Island's damp heat. She had washed with the lavender soap that was Esme's special favourite— the one that left her skin soft and satiny, with a hint of herbal perfume that lingered until evening. She had washed her hair before she left the castle— in the great, wooden wash tub, filled to the brim with steaming water by bucket-toting chambermaids, Bella had relaxed into the bubbles, while little Alice massaged cleansing oils and solvents into her long, dark hair.
Bella liked to be clean. She liked the feeling of washed skin and hair, heavy with water after a good, long scrub. She liked the smell of soap— of linen, and spices, and herbs— and she liked the pink glow of her otherwise pale and pasty skin. She liked the warmth of the water, and the steam on her face, and the singular feeling of slipping her clean body into fresh clothes after a hard day's work.
But there was something about this— about this basin of dirtied, greying water— that felt more satisfying than even a bath. A bath was a luxury in Marolando— back home in Forks, a tub of hot, steaming water could be summoned with a simple twist of a knob. It could be emptied with a tug on a string. Bella had never given much thought to how lucky she was to have such a luxury until she had come to the Island, where the tub took an hour to fill, and half again to empty.
But wiping herself clean before the softly glowing fire in the cave was an experience so deep and satisfying that she worked with zeal and relish. Her arms turned white in minutes, and her legs were scrubbed pink. Her face, which was caked with mud, and blood, and dirt, was soft and clean by the time she had finished, and when she felt herself entirely cleansed— not an hint of dirt to be found— she slipped gratefully into the thin, white shorts, the overlarge, grey tunic, and the long, yet workable, men's pants. She rolled the cuffs of her sleeves back and tightened the drawstring waist as tightly as she could, and just as she finished braiding her hair, tying it off with a strip of fabric torn from the skirt of her old dress, did the woman peek back over the edge of the bed.
"Good," she praised, and for the first time, Bella saw that she, too, was not wearing skirts. "You can throw that dress in the fire, if there's nothing salvageable."
Bella, having no particular affection for the soiled and ruined garment, tore off a few strips of serviceable fabric that had been spared, and tossed the rest into the coals, where it sizzled, and popped, and smoked.
The woman, sitting cross-legged against the cave wall, watched Bella with curious eyes.
"You look better," she said softly. "Much better. When I first saw you, I could barely tell whether you were a child or a woman."
Bella, unable to stop herself, laughed.
"I doubt anyone could tell now, either," she chuckled. She waved her arms in the overlarge sleeves to prove it. "But I thank you," she said. "I'm very grateful."
The woman, unperturbed, simply nodded.
"I…" she began. "I haven't even asked your name."
"Bella," she said quickly. The woman grinned. "Well… Isabella, but I go by Bella."
"Bella," said the woman. "Not a very common name."
"Perhaps not," Bella shrugged, only a little awkward. "But it's mine."
The woman said nothing.
"And you?" Bella prompted. "What should I call you?"
The woman blew out a breath.
"Rosalie," she said finally, and Bella saw how her eyes stared down at the floor. "My name is Rosalie, and…"
Bella waited.
"And…"
"No!"
The voice, so unexpected and sharp, made Bella yelp as she wheeled around to face the back of the cave. The woman, Rosalie, glanced back as well, but when she saw the look of worry on Bella's face, she was quick to act.
"It's alright," she said quickly. A flurry of movement came from the back of the cave, and Rosalie stood. "It's alright…"
Bella, heart racing, felt her pulse in her throat. Rosalie moved, careful and soft, to the edge of the cot, where she reached down and smiled, her hands outstretched.
"Shhh, darling…" Rosalie crooned. "Hush now. It's alright…"
And Bella, eyes glittering, saw for the first time just what was lurking in the back of the cave. Rosalie stood up, her hair brushing the top of the stone, but when Bella saw the creature cradled in the crook of her arm, she felt her heart throb with silent pity.
A child— a boy no older than three— clinging to his mother's neck as he trembled, his face glazed with tears.
Bella couldn't speak.
"Hush, sweetheart," crooned Rosalie. "Hush now. It's alright…"
But the boy was staring at Bella, his wide, grey eyes locked on hers. She watched the terror flicker over his face like quicksilver— one second calm, the next confused, and a mere moment later, absolutely terrified.
The child began to wail.
"No, no, no…" Rosalie began to bounce him, her eyes flickering madly towards the covered entrance. "No, sweetheart, no… hush now…"
Bella, pale with worry, glanced fearfully towards the mouth of the cave.
"It's alright!" Bella croaked, her hands outstretched. The boy wailed louder. "It's alright…"
"You're safe, my darling… safe…" Rosalie pressed his little face to her shoulder, trying to muffle the noise. Her eyes were wide with fear. "Safe, my little one…"
The boy continued to cry, pushing against his mother's hold until finally, Rosalie was forced to put him down. The child scrambled petrified, to the furthest, darkest corner of the cot. Bella watched, baffled and heartsore, when he pressed his little body into the furs and disappeared from view, his tears muffled by the bedding.
Rosalie stood, horror-struck, as she watched him burrow deeper into the furs, and when neither woman could see anything other than a lone, wiggling foot, Bella collapsed onto the floor by the bed.
"I'm sorry," spluttered Rosalie, and Bella was surprised to see her cheeks were red and blotchy. Tears swam in her eyes. "I'm sorry… I didn't think he'd…"
She glanced back helplessly at the squirming bundle, still crying and shivering, at a loss for words.
"Is he…" Bella cleared her throat. "Is he your son?"
The woman, tearful and trembling, nodded.
"And he…"
Rosalie shook her head.
"He's scared," she said softly. "Terrified. Especially of strangers."
Bella bit her lip.
"I'm sorry…" she said, her heart still hammering in her throat. "I'm sorry I scared him."
"It wasn't you. Please don't think it was…" said Rosalie tiredly. "He'll warm up eventually…"
The cries died down some and Rosalie glanced back towards the bed. From the furthest recesses, Bella could see the wide, grey eyes peering at them through the darkness, flickering between the stranger and his mother.
"It's my fault," murmured Rosalie. "I told him to be wary, and I should have known better…"
The boy, catching Bella's eye, ducked back down in his bed and fell still, his sharp, little pants audible over the crackling fire. Bella, feeling cheap, looked away at once.
The wind outside picked up, and the fire flickered in the draft.
"I'm sorry," said Bella again, feeble and small. Bella had no idea what kind of life that child had lived to make him so fearful of a stranger as small and harmless as she. "I'm very sorry…"
And for the first time, when Rosalie glanced at her, Bella thought she could see the shadow of a bruise on the curve of her chin.
"You…" Bella spoke gently, reaching out to brush the mark with her fingertips. Startled, Rosalie drew back, and the boy gave a sharp gasp before he, too, fell still and silent. Rosalie's eyes went hard at once, and Bella, troubled and abashed, let her hand fall to her side when the other woman pulled back.
"You look exhausted," said Rosalie quickly, and Bella, frowning, saw her turn away. She ducked her head, hiding her face from Bella's view. "And you're pale…"
"I'm fine."
Rosalie grimaced. Bella, tense and quiet, watched her companion with eagle eyes.
"We should sleep," she said finally. "I'll put the fire out."
"Out?"
"The smoke will attract attention," said Rosalie gruffly. "The mist has held this long, but it's cold tonight. The morning will be clear."
"Should we keep watch?"
"No," said Rosalie. "No one will find us here, unless they know where to look. We'll be warm enough with the furs," she said, "and I'll sleep in the middle, to keep him calm."
"But…"
"Go," said Rosalie, with a sternness reserved only for mothers. Her long, slender finger pointed Bella towards the right side of the alcove and though she dreaded it— dreaded causing that child any more fear— she went with lagging feet.
It wasn't a minute before Bella saw the orange glow go out, and she felt Rosalie's warm, solid weight next to her in the bed. In the dim glow filtering through the vines, Bella saw her wrap her arms around the boy, who pressed his face deep into the crook of her neck. The bruise was invisible in the dark— indeed, almost all of Rosalie was invisible— and though it had been nothing but a shadow, barely a hint of blue on the underside of her milky jaw, it had been enough to make her stomach twist.
But she could give it no thought tonight. Troubled as she was, scared as she was, Bella sunk deeply into the furs along the cave wall, pulling a particularly thick, fluffy pelt over her feet and legs. The air was hot from the lingering glow of the coals beneath their bed of sand, and she burrowed herself into the pillowy warmth, the fur tickling her nose and cheek.
She barely had time to bring her hands up to her face, brushing away the itch, before she was sound asleep.
A/N: Guest reviewer Nic Craft made me giggle when they asked about Rose last chapter. I hope this answers your question!
As always, let me know what you think!