A/N: I kinda can't believe we're already at the first chapter of part 2? Who let that happen? So as far as canon, I basically dumped movie, book, and my own canon in a blender, seasoned with a few things I wished had happened, and came up with this franken-monster of mostly canon compliant with a sprinkle of fix-it. All that to say, I took a lot of creative liberties because I'm just having fun here, so if you're a canon purist, I'm sorry in advance for the twisty-turny path I chose to get us where we need to be. That said, I had a LOT of fun experimenting and playing with my favorite what-if's, so hopefully y'all enjoy it too. After all, what is fanfic if not one giant collection of "what if?" 😇
Oh, and I sometimes release bonus content over on my Ao3 (I'm Ceara_Einin over there), mainly because of FFN's content rules. I may or may not have a lemon-ridden modern AU treat coming out on Wednesday... as penance for where we're going in Part 2.
Chapter 25 Content Warnings: physical injury and wound care, light gore, mention of prior sexual assault
Also, for Parts 2, 3, and 4, Marcos will slowly play a bigger role in the story. As always, please mind the tags and do what's best for you. :)
Monachopsis - the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place, as maladapted to your surroundings as a seal on a beach—lumbering, clumsy, easily distracted, huddled in the company of other misfits, unable to recognize the ambient roar of your intended habitat, in which you'd be fluidly, brilliantly, effortlessly at home.
Part II: Monachopsis
Chapter 25: will i find you?
Addie
A year ago, exploring the woods in summer with Marcos and his dry commentary would've sounded amusing. Fun. A welcome change of pace from the same daily work. After Marcos' unpredictability, the only scenario that sounds worse is being locked in Miraz's dungeon.
The forest is eerily lonely compared to the castle's constant hum of activity. The trees are too tall, the sun too distant through the canopy of leaves. Worse, the thick undergrowth of ferns makes the ground nearly impossible to see. Addie spends most of the morning walk peering down at her feet, watching for snakes or other forest vermin. If it weren't for the company, she'd prefer riding the horse even with the ache it puts in her thighs and knees.
At least, superstitions aside, the forest doesn't seem haunted by anything other than the occasional wind or rustling rabbit.
Perhaps it's the pain in her shoulder and stomach turning her stupid, but as the first day ticks by, Addie doesn't mind the forest quite so much. The towering trees start to feel friendly, like they're shielding her from the worst of the sun's heat, and the wind stirring the leaves starts to sound like a playful spirit, whispering in a language only it knows. When Addie stops to listen and Marcos shuts up, the chirps of birds, the chatter of squirrels, and the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush join with the wind in something like a song.
Or maybe that's just her imagination, trying to make the best out of the situation to distract from her present company.
It's not pleasant, but it's not… terrible, out among the trees with the bird songs. After so many years of the hustle and bustle of castle life, forest's melodic hum and the wind in the trees is almost peaceful.
Perhaps she has Caspian to thank for her appreciation; he's the one who read quietly with her for hours when the sun went down. He was the one who loaned her book after book, so she could read about times and places and stories far beyond the walls of the castle. It must have prepared her for the long stretches of daylight without work to distract herself.
If only Marcos would shut up. If he's not complaining about the dangers of the forest or the possibility of ghosts (he's not wrong, but she's not about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing), he's grumbling how much worse her shoulder will be without rest, how the dismounting and the mounting isn't doing her any favours.
"Then I'll just walk," Addie snaps after his fourth repetition. Marcos' incessant pessimism won't heal the wounds any faster.
"Sure," says Marcos. "Swing your arms while you're at it, really open that wound."
She should've taken her chances in the river. Marcos barely let five minutes pass in silence since daybreak, and how hard can swimming be? She'd only have to keep her head above water.
"What's so special about this prince, anyway?"
Addie frowns at Marcos as he leans down from atop the horse. She doesn't owe him an explanation.
And yet, Addie hears herself answering - perhaps because she hasn't gotten to talk about Caspian, really talk about him, with anyone. Not even Lola.
"I wasn't sure at first," Addie admits, glancing up as a bird flies overhead, trilling loudly. "Still doesn't always make sense. But he cared what I thought. He made me feel safe, not just wanted. And he was - is gentle." Addie slaps a bug on her hand. "What do you care?"
"He's a royal." Marcos scoffs and spits on a fern. "And he almost got you killed."
"That was my doing."
"Even worse; he made you stupid."
Addie pulls the reins, stopping the horse to shove at Marcos and make him look at her. She wishes she could drag him out of the saddle, so he couldn't peer down his nose at her so dramatically.
"He made me braver, asshole. Not that you know what that's like."
Marcos frowns and pulls away. "I saved your life back there. Where was he? Running off on some noble steed like you didn't exist. If he cared two shits for you, he would've gotten you out months ago."
"He tried!" Addie swipes at her cheeks and pretends her voice isn't cracking. "He tried and I wouldn't go!"
Marcos shrugs, sneering. "So? He should've done it anyway, damn your opinion. Clearly you're too stupid to look after yourself." He looks her up and down, scowling and disappointed, as if she's a child he's indulged too much.
A dozen insults rise in her throat, but Addie swallows the temptation to yell again. That won't work on Marcos; it'll just spin him up, reassure him he's right about her.
"That's the difference between you two, isn't it?" she says, flat and frosty. "He respects my choices."
"He should know better." Marcos scoffs, jerking the reins from her grip and urging the horse into a slow trot. He stares into the woods, scanning the trees and steadfastly refusing to meet her withering stare.
"No," Addie says as she follows at a walk. Marcos knows damn well she can't run to keep up, but she can enjoy some peace until he slows. "You should."
A few hours later, Marcos breaks his silence and hauls her onto the horse. Is he lonely, or bored, or somehow sorry in his own abrasive way? Unfortunately, with him sitting behind her, Addie can't puzzle it out in his face.
"You sure he's somewhere in here?"
"Sure enough," Addie says. "You don't have to stick around, you know. I'm sure your family's dying to see you."
Marcos grunts, jostling her as he shifts in the saddle and his armour digs into her spine. "Seems a waste to let you die out here now. Family can wait."
Addie curls her fingers in the horse's wiry mane so her hand has something to do. "This could turn into a war soon, if Miraz doesn't give up. You should go to them."
"And tangle them up in the mess?" Marcos scoffs at her back, too close for comfort. "Better they know nothing and can tell Glozelle the truth."
Addie stills in the middle of scooting up the saddle and away from the cold press of Marcos' chest plate. He's staying away to protect them?
It's not implausible for Miraz to follow up on a missing soldier. Over the years, a few tender-hearted recruits tried to desert. Marcos brushed off the stories, joked they were probably back in their village eking out a meagre crop with the rest of their family. But sometimes, when he thought she wasn't looking, Marcos's hands would fidget.
Addie frowns at the knot she's made in the horse's mane and sets to work detangling. With only one good hand, it's awkward and frustrating.
"You don't hate them nearly as much as you said, do you?"
"Still angry at 'em," Marcos grumbles. "Most people would be after years of indifference. But family's family, even if they're never there. Or however you put it."
"I didn't think you were listening to that bit."
Marcos rests his hands on his own legs, the reins laying in twin lines over Addie's thighs. "I listen more than you think."
Addie's temper flares again. "Not when it counts."
Marcos yanks the horse to a halt without warning, grabbing her shoulder before she can push him aside. Addie swears as her wound flares up in pain.
"Tash's blood, what's -"
"I apologised," Marcos growls, hand only slightly looser as he holds her half-turned in the saddle. "Said I was sorry a dozen times. What else do you want?"
"Let go!" Twisting out of reach costs Addie her balance. The world tilts, something tears in her stomach wound, and then she's face first in ferns and forest dirt, gasping around the pain stabbing through her shoulder from the impact.
"Tash's sake!" Marcos jumps down from the horse and runs to her side. "Warn me next time you do something stupid."
"I don't need your help!" Addie tries to scramble away, because she still has some dignity and Marcos' concern is worse than confusion and apologies and the awkward aching of a soured friendship. Her arms fail her, giving out with Marcos right there and wholly aware of her weakness.
The wetness on her cheeks is just old rain, or morning dew from the ferns. Sunrise was hours ago, but the sun peeks sporadically through the trees in slanting arcs. Dew only evaporates quickly in sunlight, right?
As Addie wipes her nose, Marcos' hand closes around her arm.
"Come on," he mutters. "I've got you."
No, he doesn't. He's only… saving his own skin, or saving her so he can get what he really wanted; why else has he spent every hour since the escape arguing with her about Caspian? He doesn't care.
She wishes he'd act like it. How can she be angry enough to stay on her guard if he's just trying to help?
Addie pushes him, ignoring the spike of pain in her shoulder. "Are you sorry you put me on my knees when I wanted to stop," she asks, "or are you just sorry I was sober enough to mind?"
His silence is deafening. Addie trembles among the ferns, her nails dug into the dirt.
"Both," Marcos finally says. "If it's all the same to you, I'd rather keep on the move. And don't do that again; Cavier doesn't like it."
Addie shies away before he touches her again. "Who's Cavier?"
This time, Marcos doesn't grab her immediately. He crouches within reach, but he doesn't cross the distance she puts between them.
"The horse," he says. "Thought it sounded nice."
Addie snorts. "What does he think?"
With a whistle and its name, Marcos calls it. The creature perks its ears and walks closer, though it stomps a front hoof when Marcos does nothing else.
Addie looks pointedly at Cavier's expectant brown eyes. "I think you snuck it treats; doesn't prove it likes the name."
"Just get on."
Cavier whuffles at the foliage and stomps again, as if to echo Marcos. Pricks, both of them.
Addie insists on walking for the next two hours, aches and pains and Marcos' insistence on redressing her stomach be damned.
By sundown, the forest's solitude tips over into loneliness. Marcos isn't pleasant company, but he came ready with bread, dried meat, and hard cheese - as good as any dinner Addie had at the castle.
"Is this even your horse?" Addie asks between mouthfuls of bread. "I thought guards didn't have horses."
Marcos tears off a strip of meat with his teeth and nudges Cavier faster.
"Close enough. I fed him carrots every morning. Needed a new friend for the new post." He says it so casually, like stealing a horse is no more noteworthy than shopping for watercress.
"So you stole it. From who?" Addie doesn't bother hiding her disdain. A horse can be twice someone's worth, or more, and whoever Marcos stole from is stuck in the city.
Marcos shrugs, the clank of his shoulder plates echoing among the trees. "Does it matter? Better than stealing one of the war horses; the Captain might've actually cared then. Now it's just another citizen whining."
"With good reason, if their livelihood's been stolen."
"Trust me, Cavier's better off."
Addie snorts and pushes away from him as much as she can without falling. "That'll keep food in their bellies."
Quicker than she can dodge, Marcos grabs her right hand and pulls, sending pain shooting into her injured shoulder. Addie yelps and considers shoving him off the horse, but then her fingers touch its coat and find criss-crossing lines of rough skin where fur should be. Marcos guides her hand to another patch on the beast's shoulder.
"Like I said," Marcos murmurs. "He's better off."
"You could've just said that. Let go."
To her surprise, Marcos obliges. Addie rubs her wrist, flinching as she struggles to get her shoulder comfortable again.
Marcos takes up the reins and urges Cavier into a trot. "You wouldn't have believed me."
They finally stop at nightfall, when the moonlight is too dim to see where they're going. The lingering summer heat leaves the air sticky, but it's not wholly unpleasant - it's much warmer than the castle. Marcos still insists on building a small fire for the night.
"Keeps animals away," he explains, adding another armful of kindling to the steepled wood. "And we need the light to change your dressings."
Addie tests her aching shoulder; a spike of pain rewards the effort.
"Won't the light attract them? And it's as good as a beacon for soldiers."
Marcos struggles with the flint and steel before the sparks take and a flame sputters to life. "Soldiers'll think it's ghosts. Come here, I brought clean dressings."
Open her dress in front of Marcos? Absolutely not. The river's close enough for washing, and that's almost as good.
"I can manage," Addie says through her teeth.
Marcos tuts. "It'll fester."
Addie shrugs with her good shoulder. "Then I'll manage that, too."
Marcos makes a good show of concern, sighing and flapping a hand in the general direction of south. "I figured you'd want to heal, speed up this search for your prince. But suit yourself. I'm sure he won't mind an invalid, 'specially in a war."
Addie's mouth falls open. Of all the insufferable, manipulative -!
Caspian's worried face flashes behind her eyelids. Anytime she showed up with a cut or burn or new bruise, his eyes lingered. He rarely said anything, only smoothed a careful thumb over the latest inevitable cost of kitchen work and kissed her tenderly. More than once, she woke up to a half-awake Caspian ghosting delicate kisses over the scars.
He wouldn't mind like Marcos means it. But he'd worry.
Already is, most likely. Caspian must have found her note by now.
"Fine."
Marcos smirks and pats his knee, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Instead, Addie sits within reach and turns her back.
She tries not to think about how quickly he undoes her bandages and tattered stays.
He clicks his tongue as the summer air touches her skin. "Falling off didn't do you any favours."
"No shit."
Marcos huffs. "Hold still."
Addie grits her teeth as Marcos dumps a canteen of water over her back, his hands rough and unwelcome as he cleans her skin. He's not lingering, but he's not hurrying either. He's not brusque and quick, like a decent healer would be.
"Do us both a favour and don't fall off Cavier again."
Addie lifts an eyebrow. "Us?"
"Yourself."
An uncomfortable silence falls as Marcos works. Addie stares into the shadows thick between the trees and focuses on the intermittent wind rustling the undergrowth, the chirping of crickets, the occasional hoots of an owl. The forest is alive in ways the castle, for all its restless activity, never was. The forest is untroubled beneath the constant hum of life.
Peaceful.
The castle, Telmara itself, felt agitated underneath people's comings and goings. Wound tight on a string forever threatening to unravel. Before Caspian, she never realised how fragile her life was, how easily Miraz could rock her makeshift family with a snap of his fingers. Addie never knew the difference between the castle and the world outside; the world was busy, and that was that.
Here among the trees, with a breeze in her hair and the heat of the fire at her back, the tension coiled in Addie's chest eases, haltingly.
If she had Caspian beside her, maybe it could disappear entirely.
"We should stop in Beruna. They might have a healer." Marcos discards a tangle of dirty, blood-spotted bandages in a pile. "Doesn't look good, your shoulder isn't setting, and that stab wound opened again."
Addie takes the roll of clean bandages before his hand strays and passes it to her other side. "It's only been two days. I wouldn't have that one if it weren't for you."
Marcos doesn't reply for a long moment, his hands tense and his breathing sharp. But instead of arguing, he sighs.
"Your shoulder isn't scabbing how it should, even if it doesn't smell rotten yet. A healer might have a poultice to speed the healing." When the bandage strip crosses her back again, Marcos has the decency to hand it off without complaint. "It'd help if we rested tomorrow."
"Not an option." Addie crosses the roll under the curve of her breasts, the bandage surprisingly soft against her skin. "I need to find him."
Together, they finish wrapping her shoulder in silence. Addie hurries back into her dress and knots the remaining stays with clumsy fingers, never mind her shoulder's complaints.
"Addie."
She pretends not to hear. "We should head west in the morning; the Shuddering Woods must be close."
Marcos takes a long drink from the spare waterskin before offering it to her. "What happens if you find him? You thought about that?"
Addie sips only enough to wet her throat. "Sounds like you have."
"You're injured, and will be for weeks at least. Probably months; that arrow damaged muscle." Marcos tucks the waterskin back into a saddlebag. "And your prince is fighting a war for the throne."
Addie barely keeps her eyes from rolling. "Might not be a war yet. Any other brilliant observations?"
Marcos leans closer, resting one elbow on his knee, firelight casting strange shadows over his face. "Point is, you shouldn't rush into the middle of a fight. Stay hidden, wait until it passes. It's not worth dying for."
Caspian isn't worth dying for. That's what he means.
Addie scoots away and puts the fire between them. "Let me guess, hidden with you?"
"Wouldn't be your worst option. If he cares one lick about you, that prince would want you out of the war, not in the middle of it."
Addie scowls into the fire. Caspian did want to send her away, and when she refused, he agreed to go on the run together - always hiding, always pursued, but together. If he has rallied lords to his side, then yes, it might mean a war. Caspian said as much, though he hoped it wouldn't come to that, and as the months ticked down, all his focus shifted to escape.
Marcos is right. Fortunately, Caspian isn't here to say so.
"If this turns into a war, it only ends with Miraz dying or…" Addie clears her throat and inhales shakily. "Or Caspian. I won't risk never seeing him again."
The fire snaps and flares as Marcos feeds more dry branches into the flames.
"I wasn't asking." Marcos meets her gaze, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. "I was trying to let you make the right choice. That's what you want, isn't it?"
Let her?
Addie stiffens, ignoring her shoulder's aching warning. Marcos' weapons are in the saddlebags by his side, but if she waits until he's asleep, maybe she can steal a dagger and sneak off.
"Trying to talk me into what you want and threatening to push me around when I don't agree isn't giving me a choice."
"If it keeps that stubborn neck of yours in one piece, I don't much care."
She should sneak off on her own. Surely she could manage long enough to reach a town on the southern border.
Addie's stomach growls in a sudden, painfully practical reminder. Even if she could navigate to Archenland, she can't hunt or trap any animals with one good arm. She'd be surviving on whatever berries, nuts, and edible bark she could choke down for weeks. And if she ran into any soldiers…
"One week," she finally says. "Let me search for one week. If I can't find him, then we go south."
Marcos prods the fire, sending a shower of sparks into the air. "If that wound starts festering, the search is off and I'm hauling you to the nearest healer whether you like it or not. Deal?"
Addie grinds her teeth. For now, that's the best she'll get.
"Deal."
Four days later, they cross the Telmar River - the one they've been keeping in earshot since she put her foot down about finding Caspian. If she's remembering the map right, the Telmar River runs west into the mountains and near the Shuddering Wood. But Caspian is nowhere to be found, even when they round the southern bend where the river curves back east. That's when Addie's shoulder starts swelling, the skin around the wound a bright, angry red.
"Told you it'd fester, but at least the other one is still clean." Marcos says in the middle of a dressing change, before pressing his palm to her brow. "Tash's blood, Addie! Your forehead's burning."
Addie's head pounds in reply, but another "told you so" from Marcos sounds unbearable. So she huffs and tries to shrug it off.
"It's summer, of course I'm warm."
Marcos turns them due east the next morning, straight toward the junction of the Great River and the River Rush. If Marcos is to be believed, the town of Beruna is only a three-day ride. They should pass through Dancing Lawn on the way, though the meadow is probably overgrown by now.
"Dancing Lawn?" Marcos says, tone doubtful when she mentions the name. For a moment, his hand hovers near her forehead again. "No such place."
How silly of her; soldiers don't know about the old Narnians, and Marcos shouldn't know a secret that important. Addie tries for nonchalance as she leans away and he lets his hand fall back to his side.
"Just an old name. Probably doesn't exist anymore." Or they won't pass through, and she's lost track of their position. Addie can visualise the map, but figuring out their place on it from the middle of a forest isn't so easy.
By noon, her shoulder is on fire. Breakfast roils dangerously in her stomach, and the monotony of Cavier's plodding and Marcos' silence would drive anyone half-mad. Addie needs something, anything, to do.
"Mind if I take over?"
Marcos straightens at her back. "Take over?"
"Steering the horse. Riding. I know where we're going."
"On a map."
Addie huffs and jerks her chin toward the sun. "Sunrise was straight ahead, so we're going east. As the sun sets, if our shadow is in front, we're on the route to Beruna."
More plodding, more silence. Her eyes start to water from the pain.
"I'm bored as hell."
Something sharper than a laugh jolts her in the saddle. Marcos steadies her and slides the reins into her hands.
"Yeah, me too. Here, take them." The moment she does, Marcos chuckles. "Not like you're holding the well rope. Light touch, thread behind your middle three fingers and out over your shortest finger. Thumbs on top."
Addie bites her tongue as Marcos adjusts her grip and turns her fists up - thumb on top, like he said. It doesn't hurt too badly if she rests her hands on her thighs, though the dressings still restrict her range of motion.
"Is this thing comfortable? Feels like he's chewing it."
"Cavier's probably bored too. That's good, you should feel connected. Not too much tension - not for him, anyway. Other horses, maybe." Marcos' hands hover near hers again. "Some need a firmer hand."
Arse. Addie sets her jaw and tries to focus on the horse. Better not to give him the satisfaction of reacting.
Addie loosens the reins as Cavier's head drops. "Now what?"
Marcos' hands cover hers again, his amour pressing too close for comfort at her back. "Try slowing him down. Pull back evenly, nice and easy."
Tash's talons, this was a horrid idea. Pain lances through her shoulder and Addie drops the reins, gasping as the burning spasm slowly subsides.
Marcos grunts.
"Knew you were lying. Hold on, we'll be there soon." Marcos urges Cavier into an excruciating gallop due east, thundering carelessly through the trees.
Addie's too busy trying to keep breakfast down to protest.
By dusk, Addie decides if she ever rides a horse again, it'll be too soon. Marcos kept Cavier to a gallop until the horse couldn't manage it. The poor creature is fine now that they've slowed to a brisk walk, but remnants of froth linger on his muzzle.
There's so little warning. Addie turns to ask Marcos how much farther when something whizzes past her ear and buries itself in a tree with a dull thud.
"Down!" Marcos pulls them both off a whinnying Cavier and into the ferns. Cavier's hooves thunder past, narrowly missing Addie's hand.
Addie's teeth sink into her lip on impact, a choked scream caught in her chest as she gasps for air. Her shoulder, her chest, her back, everything hurts.
"Tash's blood; search party! Crawl, come on!"
She tries, but she only has one arm to use and the pain won't stay put, keeps radiating over her whole back, and what is all that thumping?
Arm encircling her waist, Marcos drags her along as Addie cranes her neck until she sees what they're running from.
Arrows.
Addie sets her teeth and helps as much as she can with one arm. Time loses meaning; there's only the next fistful of dirt, the next scrabble, the next foothold to propel herself forward. Marcos doesn't relent until the tang-thwack of arrows fades into the distance. Through the haze of escape escape escape, Addie can't tell if the sentries stopped firing or if they've crawled out of sight and range.
Dirt and fern leaves catch in her mouth, flooding her tongue with the taste of forest soil. Grit settles between her teeth no matter how many times she spits it out. Her right arm drags uselessly.
"Stop, stop, they're gone."
Addie sinks to her stomach, lungs burning, shoulder and head throbbing.
"Beruna," she wheezes. "Great idea. What the hells was that?"
Beside her, Marcos coughs with his arm still slung around her waist. "Miraz must have search parties combing the woods. Sentries wouldn't be this far from Beruna."
When Marcos tries to boost her up to sit, Addie pushes him off. Fleeing for their lives aside, there's no reason for him to touch her now.
"I thought soldiers never go in the woods?"
Marcos stands and yanks an arrow from a nearby tree. "Guess they're more afraid of Miraz than ghosts. See, these are Telmarine arrows."
Addie pulls herself up with a low-hanging branch as sweat soaks the back of her neck and rolls in ticklish beads down her spine. "How can you tell?"
Marcos holds out the feather-end inches from her nose. "Fletching. They must be using Beruna as a base camp, but I didn't think they'd cross the river. Got any better ideas for a healer?"
"Yeah, Archenland." Addie pushes out of his grip and leans against a moss-covered rock.
"Too far; your fever will get worse. Pain, too."
"Even you can't talk your way into Beruna," Addie says. "There's at least one search party between us and the town, and I doubt we can sneak in past the guards. Even if we could, healer's code or not, no one's stupid enough to help fugitives from Miraz."
Marcos gets to his feet, and it feels like an excuse to glower down at her. "You got a better idea?"
The Complete Collection of Plants and Their Properties mentioned healing herbs. Caspian has the sketches and Addie lost her pack in the escape, but surely she can remember something.
Perhaps milfoil? The plant of a thousand leaves flowers in the summer, but it prefers hot, dry climates. She'd have better luck looking on Archenland's southern border, near the Calormen desert; it won't grow near these rivers.
Broadleaf might grow nearby. It likes the dense, rich soil near water sources.
"Actually, I do." Addie hauls herself to her feet with the rock's help. Marcos doesn't offer to help.
"You'll be delirious by the time we reach the southern border, especially now that Cavier's run off."
"Broadleaf," Addie says. "Ground into a poultice, it should speed the healing. Didn't we pass a clearing earlier?"
Marcos' stare bores into her.
"This morning, and that's uphill. On foot."
Addie shrugs. "So it's a couple hours' hike. That's a lot closer than Archenland."
Marcos huffs a scathing excuse for a laugh and stares back down the hill. Addie's patience frays.
"You wanted ideas," she snaps. "It's the best one we have."
For a long moment, a few scattered birdsongs are the only sound. Then -
"Fine."
Addie bites back a triumphant smile. Finally, she's thought of something useful. That alone might sustain her until they find broadleaf.
"Listen for a stream," Marcos says as he turns up the hill. "We'll need water soon."
Addie scowls at his back. "Damned horse."
"Wasn't his fault. With any luck, he'll wind up in Beruna and someone -" Marcos cuts himself off, frowning into a thicket of ferns.
Addie steadies herself against a tree trunk. "Someone what?"
"Shh. Get down."
Her mouth opens to tell him the soldiers are out of earshot and to stop being dramatic.
A twig snaps.
The ferns rustle, and a blurry figure explodes from the thicket.
A/N: Apologies for the lack of Caspian in this chapter. Not to worry, we'll hear from him soon!
Chapter 26 Preview:
"Addie?"
She knows that voice. She'd know it anywhere.