Chapter 21 – Rescue

After scanning the surrounding area where the two brothers were last seen during the horrible fight before they disappeared in the cursed woods, the four of them plunged deeper into the rotten forest to cover more ground, hoping to catch the glimpse of a possible trail to follow. It proved to be a difficult task in the slimy crooked trees and several minutes passed with no sign of the soldiers at all, until Coop unexpectedly stumbled upon Peter's dagger lodged in a tree, with a set of erratic tracks on the murky ground that they could follow.

It seemed the brothers had been dragged in the mud for the most part, making the task of tracking their trail easy in some places like flat ground, but much harder in other places like jagged rocks and tangles of rotten trees. Not to mention that the drumming rain during the fight had probably washed away a lot of the initial tracks, so they were left with the need to constantly halt and reassess the direction of the trail.

And then there was blood.

They stumbled on the bright red color a few times, staining dark leaves and spattered in streaks on large stones, indicating where the brothers had been dragged by the Skinwalkers during the night. The blood was a reassurance that they were headed in the right direction, yet at the same it was a glaring reminder that the two men had probably been dead all along.

Maeve was well aware of that tragic possibility, and she knew the others also believed it to be true, but to her quiet surprise no one commented on it and simply kept on going at every turn, with Robin leading the way in the spine-chilling forest.

Leisa was marching right behind her as usual, a human shield ready to counter any threat, and Coop was closing up the rear with his entertaining personality, muttering a comment here and there to lift the heavy silence they had all shrouded themselves into, and also to keep them all awake.

As it was, none of them had slept at all last night, the gruesome attack from the Skinwalkers robbing them of any respite, and then Maeve had dragged them all into this little rescue mission, with empty stomachs and the clothes on their backs still wet from the heavy downpour. She was beginning to regret her decision, the exhaustion slithering its way into her veins like a fever, making her dizzy at times and dulling the edges of her senses. But she pushed on with her mouth shut and her teeth gritted.

One step at a time, she kept telling herself, her limbs heavy like lead. She had lost track of how many hours had passed, but she could sense it was already midday, and Robin had told Simon they would be back before nightfall. If they didn't find the missing brothers soon, the rest of the convoy would continue on without them, and they might never catch up…

"Well, if we're not shredded to pieces by the Skinwalkers or the Kawasseas by the time we make it out of the Blind Mountains, we'll sure catch our death in this dampness," Coop commented from behind Leisa, complaining about the cold drop in temperature since the downpour last night, yet his tone soon turned playful and suggestive. "Perhaps a small break would help? You know, sharing a little bit of body heat?"

"Would you keep quiet?" Leisa rebuked him, not at all amused by his innuendo.

But Maeve found herself smiling, tempted to play his game. "I'm sorry, Coop," she replied innocently. "I promised Robin's girlfriend I'd keep him warm."

As soon as the teasing words left her mouth, she saw Robin miss a step in front of her, slipping on a slimy rock but quickly regaining his balance to toss her a look over his shoulder, an annoyed glare that failed to mask the reddening of his ears and she had to bite her lips not to laugh.

"Girlfriend?" Coop puzzled from the rear. "You mean Lilian?"

"Never mind," Robin growled and resumed their trek on the edge of a deep steep slope, on a narrow trail of intricately woven roots intermingled with rocks and dead trees.

Maeve watched her steps carefully as she followed after him, the four of them almost pressing their backs against the mountain side to steer clear of the abrupt slant to their right which dropped at least a good thirty feet below into a ravine.

She was tempted to tease Robin again but she knew she would be pushing her luck a bit too far if she did, so she remained silent instead, allowing Coop to rant about the cold once more as the trail widened in front of them and curved to the left.

"Wikken Hells," he cursed. "What I wouldn't give for a drop of sunlight…"

They all quietly agreed with him. The gloom of the dark woods after so many days of trekking was simply debilitating and suffocating, depriving them of even the smallest amount of sunshine and slowly robbing them of their sanity, but aside from lighting a few fires, darkness was an enemy they could not fight. They had no choice but to endure its heavy cloak.

Cautious in her steps, Maeve followed Robin around the curve in the widening path, silently battling the crushing weariness in her limbs and wondering if they would ever find the missing soldiers, or worse, their mauled corpses. Not to mention that time was ticking. If they didn't find them soon, they would have to turn back…

"Stop," Leisa suddenly halted behind her in the middle of the curve, a frown creasing her expressionless grim face as she pointed down below. "What is that?"

Coop inched closer to her side while Maeve and Robin backtracked to the edge cautiously, the three of them stretching their neck to look down where the Radakeel was pointing.

Maeve squinted to get a better view, her eyes landing on what looked like a bunch of white polished rocks resting at the bottom of the ravine about thirty feet below in a small clearing. It was a curious sight to behold, white stones in a canvas of darkness and decay.

She took another careful step forward, straining her eyes. "It looks like-"

But the words died on her tongue when she felt the ground quake beneath her feet with a hollow rumble.

"Get back!"

Robin's body collided with hers before she could even blink, his arm coiling around her waist to yank her back but it was too late, the rotten ground caving beneath them as a chunk of the trail abruptly broke apart from the rest of the winding path.

She heard Leisa and Coop shout and stretch forward to catch them but she and Robin were already falling, tumbling down the mountain side through sharp roots and jutting stones and sticky slime like two ragged dolls.

Her fingers frantically clawed into space and dirt, desperate to grab a hold of anything to ease her fall and her imminent landing below, but it was no use. She just kept falling and sliding forever down into the rocky ravine, the air ripped from her lungs and strangling her screams.

When the hard ground abruptly reappeared beneath her, nearly knocking her senseless as she twisted and rolled, she barely caught sight of Robin as he landed a few feet away from her, dazed and bruised and groaning in pain, because she was falling again.

Before she even knew what was happening, her momentum was propelling her further and clear off the edge of another drop carved out of the mountain side, the deadly cliff hidden by the rotten brambles.

She screamed.

Her legs went over the edge and she twisted over onto her stomach, her arms flailing wildly and her fingers scraping at anything she could touch while Robin dove for her like a mad man, landing straight at the edge of the drop just in time for his hands to lock over her wrists like shackles of iron as she dangled into thin air, suspended a hundred feet above the remnants of some dead waterfall.

Terror slammed into her body like a blast of thunder, her blood pumping into her veins like a wild storm as she looked up wide-eyed at Robin, fright and panic ripping her apart with broken screams falling from her lips as her fingers dug into his flesh.

The fall would kill her. If she slipped from his grasp she would die.

She kicked her legs to find some footing, her boots scraping at nothing but moss and dry roots, while he held on to her with all the strength he possessed, the muscles in his arms straining under his skin and his knuckles turning white.

But it was the terror etched on his face that paralysed her, his breathing erratic as he glanced down below at the fatal drop awaiting her.

If he couldn't pull her up, it was over. She knew it and he knew it too.

Fear swelled into her bones like a spreading fire, an inferno threatening to blast inside her chest as she wildly cast about for survival, but Robin's voice quickly sliced through her like a sharp blade.

"Maeve, look at me!" He called down to her, forcing her to look straight into his eyes as his iron grip on her wrists turned painful. "I've got you!" He assured her firmly, his words strong and sturdy like oak, dripping with sudden calmness. "I won't let you fall, you're going to be fine. I won't let go, I promise." His pupils were blown wide with terrible fear, but his deep and resonant voice sunk into her mind like a spell.

He wouldn't let her fall.

But he couldn't pull her up if she was panicking and trashing like a wild cat. He needed her to gather the fragile scraps of her composure and work with him.

Maeve stared up at him like a sailor lost at sea in a raging tempest and clinging to her only lifeline. She knew she had to calm down and focus, but her heart was racing in her chest like a loud war drum, with the urge to glance down into the terrifying emptiness that awaited her below.

But Robin held her gaze unyieldingly, never breaking contact, and she anchored herself into the strength and calmness buried in his blue eyes.

He wouldn't let her fall.

She swallowed hard, her throat locked tight with fear and her lungs desperate for air, and she forced herself to momentarily douse the storm of fire in her veins. She gave Robin a trembling nod, trusting him to haul her up to safety.

He gave her a single nod in return and pulled at her wrists, grunting with the effort of lifting all her weight, using the muscles in his arms, shoulders and back, bringing her up inch by inch until she was able to swing a leg over the edge at last and hoist herself up the rest of the way.

As soon as her entire body was back on flat ground, Robin snaked an arm around her waist and yanked her several feet away from the deadly edge, both of them slumping down to the ground to lay sprawled on their back side by side, completely winded and reeling from the rush of fear still pumping in their blood.

Maeve shut her eyes, her heart trashing in her ribcage like a wild beast while her labored breathing matched with Robin's. She was so dizzy it almost made her nauseous, and she ached all over, her limbs sore and probably bruised from head to toe.

But she was alive.

"This is the second time you fall into a ravine, and this time almost down a deadly cliff..." Robin's voice drifted in the air as he still worked to catch his breath. "Is this a habit of yours? Falling off things?"

She huffed, still panting as well while his words sent a stab of longing in her heart. Falling down ravines, falling down ships…But she shrugged it off quickly. "This is the second time you jump into a ravine to save me," she pointed out in return. "Is this a habit of yours? Risking your life for women you barely know?"

"No," he shook his head slightly in jest. "I only do that for women I've known at least two weeks."

A winded laugh fell from her lips as she tried to sit up despite the protest in her limbs. "I wonder what you do for those you've known for months and years."

Robin sat up with a grunt of discomfort, then rose to his feet with a wince. He cleaned his palms on his trousers then glanced down at her, meeting her gaze with an outstretched hand. "I guess you'll have to stick around to find out."

Maeve looked up into his penetrating eyes, so full of formidable terror a few seconds ago as she hung above certain death, then slipped her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

They stood facing each other for a moment, trapped in the wordless silence that often settled upon them, until the awkwardness settled in like a thief.

"Thank you," she breathed, blinking away and taking a step back.

"Anytime," he replied, rubbing at a strain in his neck as he distanced himself as well, surveying their surrounding.

They both adjusted their gear, securing their swords on their back and checking daggers in their boots or fixed to their belts. She also straightened her poor imitation of a braid, messy and caked with mud, taking a moment to secure Sinbad's red bandana at the tip and tightening the knot firmly.

"You didn't have to come, you know." The words left her mouth on a whim, as if seizing the opportunity to confront him while they were alone, her blood still alight from her almost fatal drop.

Robin turned to face her, his features tensing, indicating he knew exactly what issue she wanted to tackle but instead he pointed at the edge of the cliff behind her.

"Well, it's a good thing I did, otherwise you would have fallen to your death." Then he retreated towards the clearing, urging her to follow him and postpone their argument for later. "Come on, we need to find a way back up and-"

"Why did you come?" She cut him off at once, refusing to let him off the hook as she crushed his attempt to change the subject.

His shoulders sagged as he slowed down momentarily, allowing her to catch up with him but he still refused to face her, his lips drawn in a tight line.

Marching into the pebbles and white stones with rising annoyance, Maeve repeated her question with sharp determination, this time ripping into the words with enough insistence to root him in place. "Why did you choose me over the convoy?"

At that he froze on the spot like a pillar of stone, his entire body tensing as if readying for a fight. But she gave him no respite and stood right before him, looking him straight in the eye as she voiced her question again with iron resolve, blocking his way. "Why did you choose to protect me over everyone else? Why is my safety more important than all those people you left behind?"

He held the firmness of her sharp gaze with the weight of something she could not name, torn and cornered and defeated, as if he wanted nothing more than to lay all the answers she sought at her feet and yet somehow deeply afraid she would shatter before him if she knew the truth. It completely baffled her as she clung to the silence that stretched between them, forcing him to fill it with what he was hiding.

But then there was a shift in his features, something dark and dangerous shrouding his eyes as she saw him raise a finger to his lips in a silencing gesture, his chin faintly tilting toward something over her shoulder.

She froze, a sense of alarm surging into her bones like a clap of thunder.

She turned as slowly and as silently as she could, to steal a glance at what he had seen even if she already knew what it would be before her eyes landed on the Skinwalker.

The creature was hunched between boulders of rocks many yards down the clearing, its white bony figure ripping into something with its teeth.

It didn't seem to have heard them yet, thank the spirits, and as she surveyed the darkness of the rotten woods all around to check for any other monsters, she came to a terrifying realization.

It wasn't a clearing they were standing in.

It was the dry bed of an ancient river, which probably used to pour over the edge where she had almost fallen a few minutes ago.

And while the riverbed was littered with pebbles of all sizes, the white stones were not white stones.

They were bones.

Human bones.

Frozen in fear, her eyes travelled from the frightening Skinwalker all the way down the riverbed to finally glance at her own feet, at the bones under her boots, femurs and broken spines and fractured skulls.

When she met Robin's gaze again, she could tell he had come to the same terrible conclusion.

They had stumbled into a graveyard.

That's what Leisa had spotted from the path up the ravine.

Maeve cursed inwardly. This day just kept getting better and better.

Then Robin gripped her arm firmly, pulling her with him as he slowly backtracked and headed for a set of heavy boulders big enough for them to crouch behind and hide from the Skinwalker.

"How many do you think are out there?" she whispered, pulling her sword from its scabbard on her back as Robin did the same, bracing for another ugly fight.

"I don't know. But just because we can't see them, it doesn't mean they aren't there," he whispered in return, stretching up to study the wicked beast and the surrounding area with his raptor blue eyes.

Maeve craned her neck as well to survey the clearing and the dead trees framing the riverbed, but she was unable to catch any sign of Skinwalkers lurking about in the shadows except for the single lonely creature hunched a dozen yards away.

"Only one way to find out," Robin murmured, handing her his sword while he unhooked his bow from his shoulder, which was miraculously still intact, and notched an arrow in place. "If there are other Skinwalkers about, this should draw them out."

Maeve watched as he pulled the string, leaning on the boulder for balance as he aimed for the white, skeletal monster. She held her breath, uttering a silent prayer in her mind to whatever gods and good spirits were listening that the deadly creature was alone and-

"Robin!" Coop's voice suddenly rang in the air as loud as a storm. "Maeve!"

Robin's arrow cut though the air with a whoosh, but the Skinwalker was faster, scurrying away like a spider towards the sound of the shouting voice.

"Wikken Hells," Robin cursed and was on his feet in a flash, rushing into the riverbed after the creature, already notching another arrow in place while Maeve hurried after him with their respective swords clutched in both hands, eyes frantically scanning the forest to spot any Skinwalkers who might lunge at them from the dark, a perfect spot for an ambush.

The dry bones clanked and crunched under their boots as they chased after Coop's shouts resonating up ahead as he searched for them, and Maeve couldn't believe how careless they were all being, making so much noise in the Blind Mountains when they were potentially surrounded by Skinwalkers from all sides. It may be daytime, thus reducing the odds of an attack, but the risk was still very much present. The massacre from last night could repeat itself at any moment.

Fortunately, Coop's shouts stopped quickly enough, the soldier either admonished into silence by Leisa or torn to pieces by the Skinwalker.

Maeve and Robin halted, straining their ears to locate their companions in the rotten woods, when a trembling voice suddenly echoed in the chilly air close by.

"General?"

Both their heads snapped in the direction of the feeble call, searching for its source along the rocky ridges of the riverbed, and when the voice was heard again, Robin recognized it at once.

"Peter!"

He dashed forward in disbelief, lead by the soldier's pained groan, and Maeve felt her heart swell when they circled around a bend and her eyes landed on not only Peter, but his brother Lucas as well.

They were alive.

Both of them.

A mighty breath escaped her lips as relief washed over her like a wave. This rescue mission had been a formidable risk to take, but at last the missing brothers were alive.

She almost felt dizzy with joy at the sight of them, but then her mood quickly soured.

They were alive, yes, but badly wounded, battered and bruised, weak and bleeding, and Lucas was lying on the ground, pale and unconscious.

This rescue mission was far from over.

Robin rushed for his men, dropping bow and arrow as Peter scrambled to his legs weakly, supporting himself with a branch as he limped and his General crushed him in a fierce embrace.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked incredulously, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion plastered on his bruised face.

"We came to rescue you," Robin explained with a smile, tilting his head towards Maeve with a storm of emotions momentarily shifting in his small blue eyes. "You can thank her for that."

Peter stared at her and Robin, mouth gaping open, the young man clearly unable to believe that his own General had actually left the convoy to search for him and his brother, a formidable risk that was never taken because it was too dangerous. The ringers were always left behind, their sacrifice honored and mourned.

But not this time.

Maeve smiled at the black-haired lad and crouched beside his unconscious brother, laying her swords down to inspect his wounds. "How long has he been out?"

"A couple of hours," Peter answered feebly, leaning on his branch for support as Robin joined her beside Lucas.

The soldier had a nasty gash on the inside of his right arm, close to his armpit where a major artery was located if Maeve recalled correctly from one of Firouz's many anatomy lectures. Peter had tied a tourniquet above the wound, hopefully stopping enough of the bleeding, but more alarming than that was her palm soaking with blood as she checked the man's head, the back of his skull hiding a severe wound.

"Lucas," she gently shook the soldier. "Lucas, wake up."

The young man moaned and his eyes fluttered open with a wince, but just as he began to register the faces hovering above him, he heaved violently and retched the content of his stomach, bile spilling to the pebbled ground as Robin flipped him on his side.

"He probably has a severe concussion," he grimly observed, then tossed her a somber look. "Or he's bleeding in his head."

Maeve knew the man's condition would only worsen if the latter were true, but she wouldn't leave the young soldier without a fight. "Lucas," she squeezed his shoulder, trying to keep him awake as he groaned in pain, encouraging him to sit and-

"Robin! Maeve!" Coop shouted again nearby, no more than a few yards at best.

"Over here!" Robin called back as lowly as he could, trying not to alert the Skinwalkers that might lurk in the darkness.

Running footsteps echoed around the ridge, crunching dry bones in the riverbed and soon Coop and Leisa appeared, weapons drawn and out of breath, the wild concern etched in their features quickly dissipating at the sight that greeted them.

"Peter!" Coop exclaimed, embracing the young soldier in his arms while Leisa's raptor gaze landed on Maeve and Robin, quickly judging if they were hurt, and when she was satisfied that they were both in one piece, she bent down to inspect the soldier's bleeding ankle as Coop released him.

"Looks like they were alive, after all," the Radakeel commented dryly, throwing Robin a pointed look as she hinted at his initial refusal to embark on such a risky rescue mission.

But Robin ignored her and focused on direr matters. "Did you see any Skinwalkers?"

"Only one, but he scurried away before we could take it down," Leisa replied grimly, securing the bandages already wrapped around Peter's wounded ankle, the young man leaning on Coop for support as his gritted his teeth in pain. "This graveyard must be where they drag their victims to finish them off after a hunt. Their nest must be close by."

"Which means we need to get out of here, now," Coop urged them all, the precarity of the situation promising nothing good the longer they remained in the terrifying riverbed of bones.

"Can he even walk?" Leisa asked, cold practicality filing her voice as she glanced at Lucas, pale and queasy as Maeve and Robin managed to ease him up to a sitting position.

The young soldier raised a shaking hand to his head, shutting his eyes in pain as he fought another wave of nausea. "I don't think I can," he spoke for the first time, his voice raspy and frail. "You need to leave me here, General. Otherwise I'll only slow you down and we'll all end up dead. Save my brother."

Peter opened his mouth to protest but Maeve beat him to it. "We're not leaving anyone behind," she declared firmly, locking eyes with Robin and silently daring him to argue with her. "Come on, we'll help you up." Before Robin could even protest, she circled an arm around the man's waist and lifted him up, forcing Robin to help her by draping the soldier's good arm over his shoulder for support.

The poor man swayed on his feet, weak and dizzy, but managed to remain upright.

They allowed the brothers to rest for a few moments, to gather their strength for the upcoming hours of trekking, offering them some water and roasted nuts as they leaned on a large boulder for support, while Robin retrieved his bow and he and Maeve both returned their swords to the scabbards on their back.

Once they were all geared up again, ready to leave, Coop pointed to the high narrow trail they had previously been following up the mountain side. "I hate to break the optimism, but how the hell are we going to get back up there?"

Robin joined his companion's side, inspecting their surroundings and trying to figure out the best route to take. He walked down the riverbed a few steps, studying the dark trees lining the ridges. "We can circle around on lower ground. Maybe we can find another-"

His words died abruptly when a Skinwalker bounded from the rotten woods and dove straight on him, pinning him roughly to the ground, croaking and snarling as it furiously tried to dig its teeth in his throat to bite his head off.

Maeve didn't even have time to scream or move because in the blink of an eye, Coop drew the string of his bow and an arrow cut through the air. As quickly as the attack had started, the Skinwalker dropped dead next to Robin, the arrow sticking out of its back.

Robin exhaled a mighty sigh of relief as he panted, sprawled on his back and resting his head on the stones and bones, eyes closing for a few seconds as he caught his breath.

That had been close.

Too close.

"Thank you, Coop," he breathed in gratitude.

"Anytime," the archer replied, swinging his bow back on his shoulder with a wink and helping his General up to his feet.

"We need to move, now," Leisa urged sharply. "This one was probably guarding the food scraps and there's no telling how close his friends are."

"Wait, what is that?" Coop frowned, pushing the Skinwalker's dead body with his boot to flip it over, crouching down to inspect its neck along with Robin.

Maeve and Leisa joined them, their eyes landing on the creature and what had caught Coop's attention.

A collar.

A leather collar locked securely around the monster's neck, with an iron loop in the middle where a chain had probably been tied, like a beast on a leash.

Maeve felt her blood run cold at the sight, shivers crawling on her flesh like needles.

"What's a Skinwalker doing with a collar around its neck?" Coop pondered, dismay filling his voice.

"More to the point, who put it there?" Leisa specified, her troubling question echoing in the graveyard of bones around them.

Brooding over the strange discovery, his brow furrowed in deep lines, Robin unsheathed a knife from his belt and proceeded to cut through the leather, removing the collar from the skeletal beast.

Then his shoulders tensed, his entire body going rigid as he inspected the man-made constraint and then the Skinwalker's neck again where another contraption was locked.

"This isn't just a collar…" he gravely observed, his tone low and resonant as his fingers grazed what had been hiding beneath the leather collar; a choker of golden metal. "This is a Dallion."

They all stared at the disturbing device around the beast's neck.

Maeve swallowed hard, her bones suddenly thrumming with a silent warning, her veins swelling with a sense of dread she could not explain. She had no idea what the contraption was, but she could feel its cursed magic pulsing in the putrid air from where she stood without even touching it. Dark and dangerous magic.

"What's a Dallion?" Coop asked, his face still contorted in somber puzzlement.

"A magical collar meant to subdue one's powers, and inflict unimaginable pain to its victim," Robin explained, his blue eyes shadowed and profoundly troubled.

"So it's a torture device…" Coop rephrased, yet remaining greatly confused. "But what's it doing around a Skinwalker's neck? For what purpose?"

"You think the Blood Raiders could have done this?" Leisa wondered, growing more and more alarmed. "To use these creatures as weapons against us?"

"I have no idea," Robin shook his head, as clueless as his companions and looking twice as worried and disturbed. He scrubbed a hand over his short scruffy beard and stood up, glancing around the riverbed as if the answer would appear, but the twisted trees remained quiet and eerie. "This is a problem for later," he declared, clutching the leather collar in his hand to keep it as evidence for when they would have time to debate on the worrisome matter. "Right now, we need to catch up with the rest of the convoy."

Coop and Leisa nodded in agreement with grim frowns, while Maeve felt rooted in place, still staring at the dreadful metal choker around the dead Skinwalker's throat. "Can't you remove it?" She didn't know why it mattered to her so much all of a sudden, but she felt like no being alive, as gruesome as the Skinwalkers were, deserved to have such a foul, terrible device locked around its throat like a slave.

Robin shook his head gravely. "No." He knelt down and moved the Dallion all around, showing her its entire circumference around the creature's neck.

There was no joint, no bracket, no clip. As if the Dallion had been forged directly around its victim's throat.

"Only the person who put it on can remove it," Robin explained, his blue eyes shadowed with a veil of distant, yet vivid concern. "Whoever that was."

Then he stood up again, gently taking her arm to steer her away from the disturbing sight of the collar.

A collar of torture and subjugation.

Maeve tore her gaze away at last, but failed to shake the uncomfortable feeling that had settled in her core, like some prickly vine sinking its thorns into her flesh to slowly bleed her dry, a discomfort that seemed to haunt Robin as well as he walked closely beside her, tensed and rigid and radiating protectiveness.

She never wanted to see the terrible device again.

The sooner they got out of this graveyard the better.

"Let's go," Coop signalled, helping Lucas' frail weight to his feet and draping his good arm over his shoulder while Robin circled an arm around the man's waist.

They opened the march, leading the way through the tortuous woods while Maeve followed with Peter, supporting the lad as he limped and aided himself with a branch, and Leisa closed the rear behind them, watching their backs like a guardian hawk.

Reaching the higher grounds again proved a formidable task, bearing their own weight in the ascension as well as the weight of the wounded brothers who agonized with every step. The painstaking climb lasted forever, forcing them to stop numerous times so the young soldiers could catch their breath, and by the time they managed to backtrack in the trail to finally return to the bloody site where the convoy had been massacred the night before, night was almost upon them, the dull greyness of the Blind Mountains slowly becoming darker and darker.

An anguishing countdown to another night who may be as deadly as the first.

"We'll never catch up with the rest of the group at this rate," Coop murmured wearily, leaning on his bow as they made yet another halt to rest and drink what little water they had left. "They must have covered at least two good miles since this morning."

"And we can't continue during the night," Leisa added, showing signs of weariness for the first time since the trek through the cursed woods had begun two weeks ago. "The Skinwalkers will skin us alive."

Handing Maeve his gourd for a sip of water, Robin looked up through the canopy of black rotten leaves above their heads. "We still have an hour of light left before dark," he stated, his voice gruff and tired. "We should keep going as far as we can and if we don't find them by nightfall, we'll make camp. With just the six of us we shouldn't attract too much attention."

"Wonderful," Coop said with fake enthusiasm as he slipped his backpack on again, rolling his shoulders to shrug off the ache in his muscles.

Maeve was beginning to feel dizzy. No sleep. No food. Little water. Her body was aching all over from bruises she had stopped counting. If they didn't catch up with the rest of the convoy then their chances of survival were dangerously low, and she had no intention to die here in this rotten forest, especially since she was the reason for their current predicament.

They resumed their trek in silence, advancing slowly in the tortuous roots and dead trees, Robin and Coop supporting Lucas as the man dozed in and out of consciousness. Peter was faring better than his brother but he was still badly limping, the pain in his ankle shooting up his leg whenever he put weight on it and Maeve was beginning to suspect something might be broken.

She and Leisa took turns in supporting the young lad, the Radakeel insisting to give Maeve a little respite every hour so she wouldn't faint with exhaustion.

As it was, these were the most excruciating hours of trekking she had experienced since the beginning of the crossing. As they followed the trail that would hopefully lead them back to the convoy, the tortuous terrain, slick with mud and slime, went up the entire time. It was a constant ascension, not granting them a moment's respite, ripping through their lungs and tearing at the muscles in their legs as they pushed forward.

Even through her own heavy breathing she could hear the others panting hard in the endless climb, groaning and wheezing as they helped the wounded brothers as best as they could while their hands often cut open on sharp misplaced rocks and their feet slipped on ragged wet stones.

Sweating all over in the cold damp air, Maeve began to shiver uncontrollably, her fingers numb and her thighs burning with every step she took. She doubted she could last much longer, but then the ground under her feet miraculously flatted out, and she nearly cried when Coop's voice hissed with joy in the gathering darkness.

"Robin, look!" the archer pointed in the distance as they all panted heavily, their lungs burning from the difficult exertion.

Through the dark twisted trees many yards away, a collection of small golden lights was faintly glowing like candles in a row.

The convoy's campsite.

Coop broke out into exhausted laugher, soundless and cautious in the gathering night. "We made it!"

Maeve's shoulders slumped down in utter relief, her joints sore and hurting and begging for rest as they all picked up the pace with a temporary renew in energy to reach the safe haven of the convoy.

Sleep, she thought desperately.

Soon they would finally rest and eat and sleep.

That was all she prayed for.

When they reached the edge of the campsite at last, a soldier on watch immediately spotted them and rushed over. It was Simon, his pale skin painted golden in the torchlight and his blue eyes wide with disbelief.

"Robin!" he exclaimed with a hushed whisper as Mark and Leo both jumped to their feet behind him, jolted awake.

As they all helped Peter and Lucas settle down near the closest campfire, the poor brothers collapsing in exhaustion, everyone's face lit up with wide smiles and fierce hugs were exchanged, as if they hadn't seen each other for years.

Maeve was surprised to receive embraces as well but she welcomed them all, grateful to reunite with her companions who had been ridden with worry while they were gone. It was a miracle they had returned alive and in one piece, a feat that she hoped she wouldn't have to repeat anytime soon.

Awakened by the small commotion of their return, a few people close by, soldiers and civilians alike, soon rushed over to tend to Peter and Lucas with food and water and bandages, shocked to see the lost brothers alive, and Maeve didn't miss the bewildered and almost reverent glances they tossed her way as they whispered amongst themselves in amazement. "She brought them back..."

She smiled at them weakly, too faint and dizzy to say anything as Simon ushered the rest of them to another campfire at the edge of the convoy, urging them to sit and rest at once.

"We were beginning to think we'd never see you again," Simon murmured with both shock and relief, his features alight with barely contained joy.

"You can't get rid of me that easily," Robin replied with a weary smirk as they all flopped down around the warm flames, bones and joints rusty and aching. "How much ground did you cover today? I honestly didn't expect us to catch up with you before nightfall."

Simon gazed around the silent campfire where whispers of the General's return were quickly spreading. "Well, I decided to let everyone rest a little longer this morning. We only got moving again around noon and with the bloody ascension up the mountain side you just climbed, with all the wounded people we have, it took us forever," the blond-haired captain explained. "By the time dusk settled in I realized none of you had taken much food or water on your excursion so I called it a night, hoping we weren't too far ahead of you already."

Robin smiled and patted his friend's shoulder with both pride and gratefulness. "Well done, Captain."

Simon dipped his head and beamed, then addressed them all. "Get some rest, now. You can tell us all about your little adventure tomorrow. Right now, I'm sure you're all desperate for food and sleep."

"Aye aye," Coop agreed, teeth tearing through a piece of bread as he slumped down into his bedroll like a rock, his eyes dropping close within seconds.

"And he's out," Mark said, a grin stretching his lips at the sight of his exhausted friend.

"So am I," Leisa stated, her cascade of red braids falling over her shoulders like a river as she shot Robin a pointed look. "I leave her to you. Make sure she doesn't run off to save a squirrel or something."

Robin gave the Radakeel a small nod of agreement at her underlying command while the others chuckled and Maeve rolled her eyes, watching as the other woman settled down into her bedroll, probably a lot more exhausted than she let on.

"It's good to have you back," Leo murmured, his young face creased with haunted lines in the firelight. "If you hadn't returned…"

"We did," Robin replied softly, banishing whatever dark thoughts the young soldier wanted to voice.

Leo smiled at his General, then bumped shoulders with Mark. "Come on, let's give them some rest."

The two rose to their feet along with Simon and wove their way further into the campsite, returning to their watch over the slumbering convoy and promoting cautious silence at all cost to keep the dangers of the lethal forest at bay for as long as possible.

Leisa succumbed to sleep within minutes, joining Coop in a much-needed respite after nearly spending forty-eight hours on their feet chasing missing soldiers, leaving Maeve and Robin the only ones left awake by the fire.

Sucked dry of strength and energy, neither of them had enough force to speak, and for a long time they simply stared blankly at the flames, wrapped in an invisible bubble of warmth and exhaustion, shoulders barely touching as they sat side by side.

"You were right," Robin finally murmured after a while, his voice deep and gruff as his gaze fixed the fire. "About going back for them."

Maeve exhaled tiredly, feeling fainter and fainter as sleep laced through her limbs. But she still managed to refute his humble admission. "Your motives not to go were just as valid as mine for going. I was just lucky," she stated lowly, well aware that her little rescue mission might have killed them all in the end. "If there had been more Skinwalkers guarding that graveyard…we would all be dead right now."

He simply hummed in reply, his blue eyes cast on the flames in thought. "At least we learned something valuable. Now we know what they do with the people they drag into the woods. They don't necessarily eat them right away. Some are still alive."

A shadow fell on his eyes then, his fists clenching as his forearms rested on his knees, as if the terrible memories of all the men he had once left behind on previous crossings were coming back to haunt him. How many of those men had been dragged to that graveyard, still alive?

Maeve reached out to him, resting a gentle hand on his fist to try and ease his torment. "You didn't know," she whispered, meeting his tortured blue eyes as he looked at her.

His jaw clenched for a moment, but then his fist relaxed, unclenching as he breathed out heavily. Fatigue was clearly nibbling at his bones just like her and yet she could feel him fight against it, his body rigid and taut and denying him the rest he desperately needed.

Still, he forced a stubborn smile. "Get some sleep," he told her gently. "You've earned it."

But Maeve would not let him cripple himself with self-doubts and exhaustion. Not tonight. Not alone. "I will if you will," she replied plainly, forcing him to look at her. "I know you haven't been sleeping much in the last few days. If you don't sleep then neither will I."

He seemed rattled by her words for a moment, gazing at her in the darkness with golden shadows shifting on his face. He seemed to realize she could see right through his pretence, reading him as easily as an open book, and for a moment his blue eyes danced over her features, as if completely mesmerized by her.

Maeve had to remind herself to breathe, but then he quickly caught himself and looked away, a small smile curving the corner of his lips as he accepted his defeat.

"Fine," he conceded at last, letting her win. "Let's sleep."

Maeve let out a thankful breath, quietly reveling in her victory and profoundly grateful she didn't have to fight with him over something as crucial as sleep.

She nearly missed the playful glint that suddenly sparkled in his eyes as he grabbed his bedroll. "So long as you keep me warm," he smirked, referring to the promise she had made to Lilian in Southampton.

A soundless laugh escaped her lips as she smiled at him, ready to counter his tease with a catchy reply of her own but then the words died on her tongue as they both froze.

A bell was ringing.