Chapter 10: Blood in the Water

Something was wrong, Raven could feel it even without her powers. They had been walking along the dirt path for hours, never once meeting another living being. And yet, she could not shake the feeling that they were being watched, that there was danger afoot in these woods. She might have been able to dismiss it as simple paranoia if not for her guardian and travelling companion.

"You feel it too, don't you?" she asked as she observed the way he moved, the way he scanned his surroundings, and the way his hands never strayed too far from his blades. She had seen those quirks far too many times on Robin when chasing a particularly vexing opponent.

"We should probably find a way out of this forest, or at the very least shake off whatever's following us," she suggested, keeping her voice calm and collected even as her heartbeat started picking up. No matter how many times she had endured this, it still dug deep into her confidence whenever she was reminded of her current uselessness in a fight. Suddenly, she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder and the unmistakable sound of steel sliding out of its sheath.

"See anything?" Raven urgently asked, eyes already scanning the surrounding foliage for whatever had spooked her protector. He said nothing as usual, only gently pushing her behind him until he stood like a protective shield in front of her. Despite her best efforts, she could not stop a spike of indignation from stabbing into her soul. She was not some frail little damsel in distress, thank you very much!

Except that's what you are. She could not stop that traitorous thought from taking shape in her mind, but she was quick to banish it again with only a snarl on her lips indicating the turmoil it had stirred up.

"We should keep moving, I feel far too exposed here," she stated. He gave a short nod and began leading her onward, only to suddenly shove her aside.

"Wha-" then two arrows flew right by where she had been standing just a short moment earlier. And just before her back made contact with the snow-covered ground, her guardian's sword flashed through the air and three arrows fell around her, each sliced to pieces in mid-flight. Her back touched the ground, and dark shapes burst out of the darkness, the glint of steel in their hands being the only discernible detail. Hidden behind thick cloaks, they moved with unparalleled speed across the snow, barely leaving any footprints behind as the blitzed the duo. Raven had hardly managed to blink before they were upon her, elegant blades raised high to end her life.

But while she was too slow to do anything else but stare in terror at what should have been her demise, her guardian proved himself the equal of their attackers. An arm went sailing over her head, spraying blood from the elbow where it had been severed from the body. Then another hooded attacker fell over, a head shorter than just a second earlier. Sparks danced through the air as a third attacker parried strikes with the kind of speed she had only ever seen with Kid Flash, then he too joined his comrades in the snow, a deep gash splitting his chest wide open.

More arrows sailed from within the foliage, but her protector became like a whirlwind as his twin blades sliced and diced until the arrows clattered around him in well over a dozen pieces each. But more arrows came at him without pause or hesitation.

"We- we need to get into cover!" Raven shouted, back on her feet even as her eyes found themselves drawn to the three corpses at her feet. Tall and slender, and dressed in the finest set of leather and steel she had seen since setting foot in this forsaken land, they would have cut quite the dashing figures on any other occasion. But what really caught her attention was the decapitated head, laid before for her eyes to inspect, after resisting the instinctive need to gag. Far too angular to be that of a human, not to mention a natural beauty that made even her feel self-conscious, coupled with a pair of pointed ears.

An elf? Aren't they just things of fiction? The thought only lasted for a brief moment in her mind. Then again, I'm a half-daemon hybrid. I do not reserve the right to question other creatures' existence. But this momentary lapse in focus nearly proved her undoing as an arrow soared straight at her unprotected head. She only became aware of the danger when the shadow of her guardian fell over her, and she heard the thud of an arrow sinking into flesh.

But not even here was she allowed time to react before her guardian was pushing her along, fleeing deeper into the forest with arrows hounding their every step. And for once, Raven made no comment about being led around like an invalid, focusing only on running on while dodging any branch or rock that attempted to impede her.

Just keep moving, gotta keep moving, gotta keep moving until we lose them. She repeated over and over like a mantra in her head, her heartbeat skyrocketing like never before. But her flight was brought to an abrupt end by her guardian yanking on her cape, bringing her to a sudden halt with a startled squawk. It also saved her from the trio of arrows that whizzed past where she would have been standing if she had kept going.

"More of them?!" her words heralded the appearance of more than a dozen hooded figures, seemingly melting right out of the trees as they charged straight towards them. But then her guardian was in front of her again, twin swords in hand. First one lost both arms before being sent flying back with a shattered ribcage, second one fell over screaming while clutching the stump that used to be his right leg, his life saved only by a third assailant leaping forward and taking a sword straight through the chest.

And all of that happened in just a few measly heartbeats, with Raven just barely keeping up with their movements. What followed was like watching the unholy union of Robin and Kid Flash fighting, his every masterful stroke nothing more than a blur to her eyes. Then one of the attackers was in front of her, sword coming in to skewer her. Desperately, she tried to leap aside, but still felt cold steel piercing through her shoulder. There was a short moment of icy numbness, and then came the burning pain as her shoulder became soaked in blood. Falling flat on her back, unable to contain her scream, she was quickly joined by her attacker landing atop her, now a head shorter.

She sputtered and gagged as the severed throat splattered her face with blood, only for it to turn into a pained gasp when the sword still stuck in her shoulder rattled around from all the movement.

"Fuck!" she cursed through gritted teeth while trying to force the body off her with her one good arm. She could hear the fight raging on, but the blood in her eyes left her all but blind. With one last heave, she forced the body off her, and instantly regretted it as the blade was pushed deeper in from her movements. Then someone was grasping her unscathed shoulder and hauling her back up on her feet, ignoring her cries of pain as the blade kept moving around.

Someone was speaking, a haughty voice uttering words she had never heard before, but it seemed like it was a one-sided conversation as no reply came in return. Furiously wiping at her eyes with her one good arm, Raven finally got the blood away to see the back of her protector, shielding her from harm, and beyond him, countless more shadowed assassins, wielding slender swords and elegant bows. And every single one of them was glaring at her in hatred. Raven could not quite stop a shiver from going down her spine. The one at the front, the apparent leader, was still speaking, but Raven had no idea what he was saying. And as expected, not so much as a peep came out of her guardian.

"You know, if you're trying to start a conversation, try speaking a language we can actually understand," why she decided to snark back at someone obviously trying to kill her, Raven had no idea. Blood loss? She was starting to feel a bit light-headed after all. Oh, and her shoulder was not hurting as much anymore. Was that a bad sign? Yes, she believed it was.

"Surrender now, and you both shall be given a quick death," the leader announced in that weird German accent, each syllable uttered like he was disgusted by just having to pronounce them. Well, at least she now understand him. To say she was not without fear would be a boldfaced lie, she was quite scared right now. So she did what she learned from the likes of Robin and Beast Boy: talk shit and act cocky to hide her fear.

"Anyone ever tell you that you suck at negotiating?" maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, if the scowl that spread across the leader's face was any indication.

"Very well, we'll deal with your protector. Then we'll make your end slow," he did not threaten her there, he was making a promise. She could hear it in the conviction in his voice, the absolute certainty that what he said would become fact. And suddenly Raven had a sizable lump in her throat.

"Drepa elvesrinnr!" suddenly came the shout from behind her, and it was answered by the roars of men and howls of beasts. Then, out of the woodwork, they came charging, screaming like wild animals. Bare-chested brutes, arms swollen with thick muscles and bearded faces alight with near manic glee, dressed in a wide assortment of furs and leathers with a shield in one hand and an axe in the other. Springing out from between their masters, gigantic hounds rushed far ahead with jaws wide open, hungry for warm flesh.

"Shit!" Raven cursed as she beheld these savages come running towards her, images of her last encounter with such beasts coming unbidden to her mind. It left her shuddering as her good hand went to the knife sheathed in her belt.

"You won't take me alive," she whispered to herself with a trembling voice, visions of a man with blonde hair appearing before her eyes. But then the hounds reached her, and kept on going past her. She heard more than saw as they leaped at her shadowy attackers, powerful jaws seeking to close around slender limbs and drag the prey down. Many of these beasts quickly fell over dead, arrows protruding out of eye sockets or slender blades buried deep in their bodies. There was a shout from the leader, and then the assassins were charging forward as well.

Trapped between two charging groups, with trembling legs growing weaker as the blood kept flowing out of her shoulder, Raven made ready to sell her life as dearly as possible. I'm sorry guys, I didn't make it after all. But then she felt a hand landing on her back and giving her a powerful shove towards the barbarians.

"Wha-" was all she could utter as she stared wide eyed at her protector, who once again turned to face the assassins now that his job was finished. Then the barbarians were upon her, and Raven could not stop herself from screaming as she felt their hands upon her. She expected to soon feel cold steel running her through again, or for her clothes to be torn off by eager hands, and so flailed and kicked around with all her strength. Sadly, it proved to be very little strength was her arms and legs were quickly held in place, And Raven could only close her eyes and wait for the inevitable, struggling against the tears gathering in her eyes.

But it never came, instead she heard urgent words exchanged above her in their foreign tongue as surprisingly gentle fingers prodded at her skewered shoulder. Oh right, she had forgotten about that wound. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes again, and found herself shielded behind a literal wall of warrior, standing shoulder to shoulder with their shields overlapping each other. Beyond them, she could hear the fight raging on, but she had no idea who could possibly be winning. But the sight of these warriors, standing before her like this, left a strange feeling in her guts. Are… are they protecting me?

At her sides, more of these barbarians were gathered as one of them brought out strips of cloth. Raven did not have to wait long to find out what that was for, for she had failed to notice as another gripped the blade running through her shoulder and yanked the whole thing out. Now that she most certainly felt, and she could not stop the humiliating cry that slipped out of her throat as fresh waves of pains came from the shoulder. Then they were hard at work tying the cloths around the wound and tightening it to the point that it started becoming numb again.

"Not one for delicate work, are you?" Raven forced out through gritted teeth, forcing her eyes to stay locked on the one tending to her wound even though she felt more and more tempted to just close her eyes. That's the blood loss talking. Don't you dare fall asleep now, girl.

"Hmph," was the most eloquent response she got in return.

"Sigr!" the cry went up, and a great cheer broke out. He vision was still blocked, but the sound of running footsteps vanishing into the distance was a clear indication that the fight was over and that these barbarians were victorious. She had absolutely no idea if that boded well for her.

"Only one way to find out," she mumbled to herself as she forced herself back up again, ignoring the way her shoulder ached with every movement. Barely had she planted her feet on solid footing again before she was keeling over again, her vision going dark for a few seconds. A pair of strong and familiar arms were instantly gathered around her midsection, keeping her upright.

"Thanks," she mumbled to her protector, not even questioning how he managed to seemingly appear at her side in her hour of need. By now, the shield wall had broken up, and Raven got a good look at the battlefield. She quickly wished that she had not. Bodies lay strewn about, many of them dismembered or outright hacked to pieces. Even now, some of the surviving hounds were fighting over first pickings among the abundance of meat, and their savage masters just watched on and laughed at the spectacle. Not even the sight of at least twice the number of their fallen kin littering the ground in comparison of the hooded assassins seemed to dampen their mood. I should be disgusted, or at least unnerved, but I'm too exhausted for that.

Someone else was speaking now as well, but Raven barely paid attention. Until her guardian gave her a slight shake and directed her attention to a man approaching her. Oh, he had been speaking to her, actually. In fact, he was even now speaking to her, using that annoying language of theirs that always left Raven scratching her head. Great.

"Sorry, but I don't understand a word of what you're saying," she answered, hoping to gain at least a gleam of recognition at hearing the English language. Alas, it was not to be, and she was instead met with a blank stare.

"He's asking if you are well enough to travel," said a voice that Raven had not been expecting to hear again.

"Well, fancy seeing you here of all places. I'm supposed this is just a big coincidence as well?" Raven snarked, vision blurring a bit as she swung her head to look upon the blind old man hobbling towards her. Damn, lost too much blood.

"I will not insult your intelligence with such a boldfaced lie. Like I told you just a few hours ago, we are all pawns of the Gods," the old man answered with a smile, carefully stepping around each corpse on his path without even glancing at them.

"Great. So what's this then? Another attempt at conversion? Because if it is, powers or no powers, I will kick you between the legs," Raven really was not in the mood for further mind games or wordplays.

The old man just laughed. "My dear, for once the Gods are acting for your benefit. Guiding these fine folk to your rescue from forces that would see you dead," he now stood in front of her, raising a hand to gently place it upon her wounded shoulder. Raven was too weak now to do more than glare at him. "In fact, I would say that they arrived just in time as well. Any longer and it would have been too late for you,"

Halfway through formulating a fittingly scathing remark, Raven's thoughts were promptly derailed when a soothing warmth seeped into her shoulder, driving the pain away and easing the numbness out of her arm.

"What are you-" was all she could think of saying, rotating her shoulder to find that it was as if it had never been stabbed in the first place.

"A little trick I picked up on my many journeys," the old man answered as he withdrew his hand. "Wouldn't do for you to bleed to death after these fine folk went through such trouble to save you," then his eyes were on the apparent leader, who was speaking up again. Now if only they would speak a language she could understand. It was getting a bit annoying standing here and trying to guess what they were saying. That annoyance only climbed when they began gesturing towards her while talking.

"Oh sure, keep talking about me like I'm a piece of unresponsive furniture," she grumbled, which only seemed to amuse the old man.

"For someone who was just rescued from certain death, you're being awfully rude," and that mocking tone did not help with her temper in the slightest.

"Yeah, well, hard to be grateful when it's quite clear that this whole meeting was orchestrated," she stated, eyebrow raised in challenge for him to try and go back on what he had previously admitted.

"A meeting that was destined to happen sooner or later regardless of what anyone of us did. Those hunters learned of your existence months ago and have been hunting you ever since. Better then that the confrontation happened when the odds were still in your favor," he never raised his voice, but Raven still felt the admonishment in his tone.

"And just how did they learn of my existence in the first place?" she countered, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the old man.

"I would be more than happy to answer your questions at a later date. Right now, we need to get moving before all this bloodshed attracts the wrong kind of attention," now that he pointed it out, Raven could not help but notice the way he seemed anxious about something. In fact, everyone were looking a little ill at ease, as if they were expecting less than friendly company to come charging in at any moment.

"Then let's go already," Raven may not have known what there was to be afraid of, but she could tell that this was no laughing matter.

"Excellent, I'll inform the rest that we can depart home again," the old man cheerfully announced before addressing the stranger, completely ignoring Raven.

"Now hold on here. I agreed that we should leave, I did not agree to-" and the rest of that sentence was lost with an undignified squawk when her guardian stepped forward to scoop her up in his arms bridal style.

"You know I can walk just fine on my own," she protested as she gave him the stink eye. She honestly was not surprised when he simply ignored her. But she made no attempts to break free from his grip, choosing instead to nestle deeper into his embrace as she felt eyes upon her again. Please let this not be a huge mistake.

Hate was nothing new to Aarvol, it was an emotion he was intimately familiar with after centuries of service among the Shadow Warriors. Hate for the accursed kinslayers and traitors of the desolate north, hate for what they had done to his beloved home eons ago, hate for the carrions that even now circled around the once majestic Elven empire hungry for a piece of the carcass. But above all, hate for the bastard offspring of Morathi, the thrice-damned Witch King and would-be usurper Malekith.

Yes, Aarvol was no stranger to hate, having even grown and cultivated it into a deadly weapon to be used against those who would dare challenge the might of Ulthuan. What was not familiar to Aarvol though was shame and humiliation, something he now felt in equal measure to his hate as he stumbled through the woods, clutching a wound at his side. How could it all have gone so wrong? The greatest hunters and killers of Ulthuan, bested by a pack of lowly humans?

It should have been over before it even began, with their quarry walking in the open like that, bereft of proper armor and with only a single bodyguard to shield herself with. Indeed, her short and slender form had looked frail enough that he could have probably broken her in two with his bare hands, surely a few arrows from a concealed location would have been sufficient. Alas, that bodyguard of hers had proven himself far more dangerous than anyone could have guessed, moving with the kind of speed that only the greatest of elves should have been able to match and striking the arrows straight out of the air.

The abomination had then done something that should not have been possible, it had taken on multiple Shadow Warriors alone and won. Truly, the Ruinous Powers had forged for themselves a fearsome tool of destruction, for no ordinary mortal should have been able to accomplish what that thing had done. But even then, it was still only one warrior, and they were many. Numbers alone would have brought them victory, or at the very least slain the little witch. But then, as if fate itself was seeking to mock them, they were no longer the many, but the few.

Norscan marauders, brutish and dimwitted dogs that existed only for their base instincts. What they were even doing this far into the wilderness in such numbers, Aarvol could not fathom, but their intervention had been the end of it. Too many to fight head-on, especially with the abomination at their side, defeat had been inevitable at that point. And now here he was, the lone survivor, running like a frightened rabbit from a pack of hungry wolves.

It burned at his pride as a warrior, to be reduced to this by a bunch of hairless monkeys! His comrades, dead and left as carrion food, while he fled deeper into the wilderness. The shame of it all burned at his soul. But then there was his hatred, his lifelong companion. It soothed his burns with its icy touch, and it focused his mind on what needed to be done. I will kill that witch. Even if it takes a hundred years and leads me across the length and breadth of the world, I will hunt her down and kill her.

By her reckoning, it was close to midnight by the time they made camp. Despite their reduced numbers, the barbarians had been in high spirits as they got a fire started and prepared their evening meal. Raven herself had been quick to claim a tree far on the outskirts and firmly planted her back against it, making sure she had the whole damn posse in her line of sight. She would not be caught off guard and trapped this time, not like when-

She tasted blood in her mouth as she bit down harder than she intended, but gave no outward reaction to what was going on in her mind. At least, that was what she thought she had done, as she soon had her guardian standing by her left side, arms crossed over his chest as his body language basically spelled out "come closer at your own peril". Any other time, such coddling would have annoyed her to no ends. This time, she only gave a grateful nod before slumping down to the ground.

"You certainly have the strangest form of luck," Slade commented to her right, but she did not even deign to glance in his direction.

"Still, you think you'll be any safer with these people? Or have you forgotten about the last time you were at the tender mercies of people like these?" her heartbeat accelerated at the reminder, but she remained as stone-faced.

"I suppose if nothing else, it will be entertaining to see what happens next," with a last laugh, she felt more than heard him withdraw. The instant she was sure he was gone again, she released a breath she had not even realized she had been holding. Damn him, why can't he just leave me alone?

"Hungry?" and speaking of people she wanted to just leave her alone.

"Peace offering, or poison?" she asked with an arched brow, to which the old man merely chuckled.

"Charming as ever, young lady," he quickly made himself comfortable at her side, offering up to her one of the bowls he had been carrying. "In any case, I'd recommend getting your strength back up, we've got a long journey ahead of us tomorrow,"

"What's this 'we' you're talking about?" she asked snidely, but still accepted the bowl. Some sort of brown stew, the contents of which Raven did not wish to know, but she had long since learned to just close her eyes and gobble it down.

"Not like you have anywhere else to be anyway," the old man pointed out, and Raven did not even attempt to argue with him on that.

"You promised me answers before," she reminded him instead in-between gulps of stew.

"Aye, that I did," and suddenly his cheerful demeanor was gone. "So ask, and I shall answer,"

A pensive look came over Raven. "Who exactly where those assassins, and why were they after me?"

"An easy enough question to answer. Those were High Elves, denizens of the island nation of Ulthuan. They are the eternal enemies of the Gods and all things of daemonic origins," Raven had to all but physically restrain herself from openly reacting with mockery. Seriously, elves? Creatures that should only exist in fantasy? Different world, girl, with different rules. Keep an open mind and try not to put your foot in your mouth.

"Elves, right. So why where they-" she never finished asking the question, because she then realized the answer on her own.

"Enemies of all things, daemonic, huh?" she murmured as she stared at her gloved hand. Human in shape and appearance, just like everything else about her, but with the blood of daemons flowing through her veins just beneath the surface.

"Indeed. How they found out about your existence, I know not, but their reaction does not come as a surprise to me. Mortals ascending to daemonhood is a rare occurrence, reserved only for the greatest of champions. But mortals born from the essence of a daemon is something most would claim only belongs in legends and folklores. Your very existence is anathema to what the Elves stand for, and they will not rest until you're dead,"

Despite the foreboding tale and grave warning at the end, Raven could not stop the sardonic smile from growing on her lips. "Sounds like quite the sensible bunch if you ask me. After all, you can never be too careful with daemons,"

But the old man just raised a challenging eyebrow at her. "And yet here you are, alive and well. One would think you would have offered less resistance if you truly believed that,"

Raven did not rise to the challenge and kept quiet, letting her glare speak for her instead. Whether the old man was truly affected by it or simply content that his point got across, he let the matter drop as he settled back and continued his story.

"When it became clear that the elves had sent assassins after you, events were set in motion to ensure your survival, which includes the timely arrival of our erstwhile allies,"

A huff managed to slip out of Raven. "And I'm supposed to be grateful? Your Gods have hardly been much better to me,"

The old man just gave a harsh laugh. "You're confusing assistance with kindness, child. The Gods conspired to save your life because it suited their needs, not out of some act of charity,"

"Hardly a flattering way to describe your Gods, if you ask me. Not to mention a shitty attempt at a sales pitch," Raven pointed out before gulping down the last of the stew.

"I serve the Gods, child, but that does not render me blind-" an upturn of his lips confirmed the intentional pun. "- to their true nature. Besides, if words alone would have been enough to sway you, then Trigon would still have been around to terrorize many more worlds. No, when you finally embrace your true nature-" Raven took note of the use of the word when rather than if. "- then it will be by events far beyond the control of this shriveled old coot,"

The confidence with which he spoke had Raven giving a flat look. "As heartwarming as it is to hear of your conviction in me, I hope you don't harbor any ideas of keeping me imprisoned until I have a change of heart. Just so you know in advance, I bite,"

"No such things, child, you're free to leave whenever you wish," though Raven would not say it out loud, she was very much surprised by how quickly and easily that assurance came out of the old man. Surprise that then turned to suspicion.

"Just like that?" she questioned with narrowed eyes.

"Just like that," the old man assured her, and was met with a very much unimpressed look. Yeah, I'm not buying it.

"So what's the catch then?" she asked.

"Catch? How about the fact that you will be on your own again, alone and vulnerable against those who want to do you harm?"

Something in his tone made Raven's anger spike again. "I think I've done a fair good job surviving on my own so far, thank you very much,"

But that only seemed to amuse the old man as he slowly shook his head, like an elderly relative humoring a particularly unruly grandchild. "Except for the fact that you would be dead right about now if not for outside interference,"

"We had those assassins handled before you showed up," Raven hotly protested, voice rising in pitch.

"Correction, your bodyguard had it handled, you were wounded and defenseless. Let's not act like you're currently capable of surviving on your own. The Gods conspired to save your life once, they won't waste their time doing it a second time," the old man countered, and that took the wind right out of Raven's sails. She said nothing in response, only casting a quick glance at her guardian, still standing silently at her side.

"What else is there?" she found herself asking eventually.

"Travel with these people, live in their community. Jarl Ragnar has promised to give you shelter and protection in his home for as long as you wish it," the old man offered. And despite her best efforts, Raven could not contain a snort of derision from slipping out.

"Right, and I'm sure he's doing it purely out of the goodness of his heart," she spat out acidly. Always the same thing when it involved her, there was always a price to be paid. Always something that people wanted from her.

"Of course not. This is Norsca, nothing comes for free here," well, at least the old man had the good graces to be honest about that.

"Well, what does he want in return then?" and it better not be something like eternal servitude in some cliché goal of world domination, or she was shoving her boot up the bastard's ass.

"Oh, you need not concern yourself with that yet. I can assure you, even if you accept his invitation, there will be no obligation of you paying the price,"

That did it, and a quick bark of laughter burst out of Raven. "Oh, that just oozes a sense of trust. 'Hey, you've got something I want, and I'll let you stay in exchange for it, but you don't actually have to pay if you don't want to'. Yeah, no way I believe that bullshit,"

"Skepticism, a valuable trait in these times. And I can't really fault you for being so suspicious here. It does sound, as they say, too good to be true. Rest assured though, it is not as one-sided as it may sound. Your mere presence as a guest of his will be a great boon to his image and prestige. After all, not everyone can claim to have hosted divine royalty in their halls," and Raven did not even attempt to hide her flinch at the way he referred to her as.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," she spat at him with furious eyes, but he merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Denying the truth won't make it any less real, child," he pointed out, and Raven really did not want to argue that point.

"And what assurances do I have that he would respect my wishes if I refused to pay him?" she asked instead.

The bitter smile on the old man's face was answer enough before he even opened his mouth. "None whatsoever, you'll just have to take a gamble and see if it pays off,"

Not the answer she wanted, but still the answer she had been expecting. She was very tempted to describe in vivid details where exactly he could take this deal and shove it, but then her eyes were drawn back to her ever silent guardian, still by her side without so much as flinching. Then her hand found itself drawn to her right shoulder, gently prodding at the fabric caked in blood. Her blood.

How long would her luck hold out in the wilderness again? How long until she ran into a situation she could not escape from again? And how long until my so-called saviors stab me in the back if I go with them? That thought had her glancing at the group milling about the various campfires. Muscled brutes that oozed violence with every word spoken in their harsh language, and yet they kept a respectful distance from her. Was it because of her guardian, or because of herself?

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," she murmured to herself. Call it intuition or merely bitter experience, but something told her that not matter what she chose, it would end badly for her. Well, might as well go for another roll of the dice.

"So, how far away is his home anyway?"