Chapter 55: Rattle
Day 9
Something jerked Venatrix awake, and it didn't stop once she sat up.
In the dim light of the fire, she saw the earthquake register on Percy and Mariposa's faces as well. Almost on instinct, the three of them huddled closer together, holding onto the hope that nothing would come tumbling out of the air to squish them flat. Too boring, Venatrix thought half-heartedly, her teeth chattering with the movement.
For all she knew, the arena was crumbling to pieces around them.
Like the others before it, though, the quake ground to a stop. When it did, Venatrix was almost afraid to check their surroundings, but she followed her compatriots nonetheless, squeezing her way out of the now-skewed tent.
Familiar cold air nipped at her face, and Venatrix tugged the hood of her cloak over her ears. The snow hadn't let up by much. The movement dislodged whatever had managed to gather in the trees; bare branches swayed and creaked from the wind, the residual oscillations. They stood strong still, through it all. If the quakes kept coming, kept getting stronger like this, Venatrix doubted that would last.
As for the ground itself… Gamemakers have been known to cause landslides or avalanches at no more than a mere whim. Staying in place during an arena disaster was just as deadly as any mutt or enemy tribute. Even more so with this arena, Venatrix would bet. Though they no longer possessed their ship, that was no excuse to stall their trek downriver.
"Well," Percy said, surveying the landscape with his hands on his hips. "That wasn't too bad, I guess."
Venatrix shot him a look. "Don't you dare jinx it."
"Come on." Mariposa cut through their brewing banter. "We should get going."
Despite the unanimous agreement, they didn't; not immediately. After fixing the tent's supports, they crawled back inside. Percy went straight for the food, though he had enough restraint to portion it evenly before digging into his share. Between bites, he sniffled loudly, and Venatrix narrowed her eyes in concern. "How are you feeling today, Perce?" she asked, carefully neutral.
"Oh. Y'know." He shrugged.
"Not really."
"I'm fine. Seriously." His eyes flicked towards Venatrix's shoulder, where Mariposa had begun pulling off her sweater again. "Probably better off than you, anyways."
In lieu of a response, Venatrix used her now-free hand to flash him a rude gesture. Percy snickered.
"Quit moving, Vee," Mariposa chided, pinning Venatrix's hand to her stomach. She ignored the twinge of pain at the stiff movement; that's all there ever was anymore. Mariposa's fingers once again prodded at the bandages at her collar. However familiar the routine got, Venatrix doubted she'd be rid of the light flush that always rose to her cheeks at the other girl's touch. Hopefully it's not too visible…
"Y'know, I'd be more surprised if nobody started sneezing or coughing in this weather," Percy continued, wiping his sniffly nose on his sleeve. In the corner of her eye, Mariposa made a face.
He had a point too. "That's the last thing we need," Venatrix grimaced. She jerked her chin towards the shrinking fire. "Go make yourself some more tea before it goes out. I don't think we have any cold medicine here."
"We don't have all that many bandages left either," Mariposa said quietly. "Or painkillers. Or—"
"I get it, I'm draining the supplies," Venatrix said stiffly. Percy raised a brow. She cleared her throat, softening her tone. "It's fine, we can just change these less frequently. I don't need pain medicine today. We can save it."
Mariposa sighed but fell quiet. She ran an ointment-coated finger over Venatrix's stitches; the cool sensation sent a shiver down her spine. Whether the One girl was too tired to argue or something else, Venatrix couldn't tell, and they eased back into a silence while she worked. Percy scooted closer to the fire while his tea heated up, holding his mittened hands over the warmth. Charcoal moved with him, winning himself a head-scratch.
The image of his hands after she'd pulled him from the water flashed to the forefront of her mind. "Hey, Perce, how are the fingers?"
"Hm?" She nodded to his mittens. "Oh, um…" Hesitation flickered across Percy's features, but he tugged the mittens off nonetheless. They both breathed a sigh of relief at the sight: slightly reddened, but nothing gnarly or blackened as she'd feared. "They're still a bit tingly, but I suppose it's a good sign that I can feel them at all."
"Yeah, that's definitely—"
Something yanked at her wound and Venatrix sucked in a breath. "Fuck!"
"'Makers, I'm—I'm sorry," Mariposa stammered, wincing under Venatrix's watery-eyed glare. "I'm sorry," she repeated again, brushing back the hair from her face. "I wasn't paying attention, it… it got caught on the stitch." She held up her hand, a red thread dangling from her jagged fingernail. "God, I need a manicure, that's so fucking gross."
At Mariposa's weak laughter, Venatrix took the girl's hand in hers, carefully plucking the thread from her nail. It wasn't too long; one glance at the wound said she'd only pulled the stitches from one of the smaller lesions. Beads of blood leaked from the stinging still-red skin, but Venatrix was more concerned that Mariposa wouldn't look her in the eye. "Hey, it's not the end of the world, okay?" She pulled her knife from her belt, handing it to the other girl. "Would you mind stitching it up again? After you get rid of those claws of yours."
Percy snorted, but even Venatrix's teasing half-smile couldn't wipe the odd look from the One girl's face. Nevertheless, Mariposa took the knife and began paring off the excess from her fingernails.
While she dug through the first aid supplies for the needle and thread, Percy and Venatrix exchanged a glance. Something's off with her.
Subtly, Venatrix jerked her chin towards the entrance of the tent. Percy got the hint. "Uh, I'll be right back," he said, grabbing his bow and quiver. "Wanna get some practice shots in before we leave." The cat meowed in protest at his departure, but it settled for curling up at Mariposa's side instead.
She didn't reach over to pet it. Her brow creased in frustration as she attempted to thread the needle for what might've been the third time. Fourth, fifth.
"Hey."
At Venatrix's voice, she looked up; her eyes flicked away just as quickly.
"Wanna tell me what's up?"
"I can't get this," she mumbled.
Venatrix pried the needle from her fingers. "Not that."
With nothing to busy her hands, Mariposa picked at a stray hangnail on her thumb. Venatrix waited while she gathered her thoughts, while she peeled the skin raw; when she reached for the hunting knife to aid the task, Venatrix wordlessly extracted it from her grip. Mariposa let her, her hands finally falling still. "It's the stupidest thing," she said softly. "I— hate him. I still fucking hate him."
"Viper?"
She nodded. "I know they probably despise me back home for killing him, and I don't care. I don't regret it. But it won't… it won't go away. He's dead, he can't… I thought I wouldn't need to hate him anymore. But I do." She folded her hands, palms pressed tightly over one another.
Venatrix swallowed. "What did he do to you, back home?"
"Nothing specific, really." Mariposa shrugged, rubbing absently at her knuckles. "Like he was always an asshole, and even more so after I was chosen, but… I don't know. We just hated each other for existing, I think. First impressions, y'know? He didn't have to do anything. And neither did I."
Her words hung in the air for a solid beat. Venatrix didn't know what to say. She'd seen it in the other girl's eyes, the bitter ice reciprocated readily by her district partner. Their vicious words and cruel intentions, the quick bite of her katana into Viper's throat. The pride that lifted her chin after she spat on his corpse. Since day one, her hatred seemed like the easiest thing in the world.
Now, however, it only seemed to drain her.
For reasons Venatrix didn't fully understand, there was something about it that kept her going all this time, something that Venatrix herself had never really needed. Of course she hated the Head Gamemaker for sending his dogs after her sister, and right now, maybe even her father. But it was impure, overshadowed by grief and hurt that burned more than anything else.
Mariposa's dark eyes bored into hers, round and vulnerable from the admission, searching for an answer that Venatrix didn't know if she had. "People tend to outlive their deaths, I think," she said finally. "It's a blessing and a curse." She took the other girl's hand in hers and gave it a squeeze, pressing her thumb into Mariposa's knuckles. "Don't let this kill you, Mariposa. It's not worth it."
"Make it go away," she murmured, plaintive.
"I don't think I can."
Another tired sigh floated from Mariposa's lips. Her eyes lingered on their interlocked fingers, and Venatrix could see the exhaustion in the crease of her brow, the frustration. Her fingers twitched. Venatrix let her go, and she reached again for the needle and thread. Swiftly this time, Mariposa restitched her wound, wrapped the arm up tightly beneath the woolen sweater. She offered Venatrix a sad sort of smile when she finished.
As if on second thought, the One girl's hand dove back into the pack, rummaging around before pulling out a small container. Flicking the lid open with her thumb, she gestured for Venatrix to lean in.
Venatrix didn't think twice about it. Her eyes slid shut, awaiting the cool touch of Mariposa's paint-stained finger. it stung at the scrape on her forehead, her cheek, but the other girl was gentle.
When the hand dropped, Venatrix felt the tin press into her palm. She opened her eyes to find Mariposa's face very close to hers, her expression patient. The other girl's warpaint had come off when she'd cleaned the blood from her face yesterday, but she held still as Venatrix redrew the careful line down her forehead, nose, chin.
Her thumb lingered over Mariposa's lips, still full despite their chapped exterior. "Vee." The vibration tickled at her fingertip.
Any coldness that Venatrix sensed in her ally had acutely vanished. Those round eyes, the leg brushing her knee, the way her chin seemed to sink into Venatrix's palm… it pulled her in. Eyes half-shut, Venatrix let the other girl fall into her. They caught each other by the mouth; the next breath she inhaled carried a tang of mint, nearly lost in the feeling of Mariposa's lips on hers. Sudden desire made her eager, inexperience clumsy, though the other girl didn't seem to care. At some point, Venatrix registered hands cupping her face, fingers at her jaw, curling into her hair. She didn't open her eyes to look.
Only when Mariposa pulled back for a breath did she bother. "Sorry," the One girl murmured, her forehead pressed against Venatrix's. Neither relinquished their hold on each other, still wound tight beneath fingers burned into skin.
"Don't be," Venatrix said. "I think that was bound to happen sometime."
Mariposa giggled. The sound sent her heart leaping in her chest, and this time Venatrix leaned in first. The One girl's mirth turned to a sigh as they kissed, and instinctively, Venatrix pulled her in tighter, wishing she had another free arm to help. Not a thought filled her mind outside of Mariposa, the warmth of her lips, the softness of her hair, the jarring scrape of teeth against hers—
Venatrix recoiled as the unpleasant sensation raised the hairs at the back of her neck. "Sorry," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing hot in embarrassment. Mariposa chuckled again, a low sound that made Venatrix flush deeper.
Before they could meet in the middle again, something jolted beneath them.
Venatrix caught herself; she grunted in surprise as Mariposa's body tumbled into hers, straining against her locked elbow. Another earthquake..? Slow to register the change of events, Venatrix reluctantly extracted herself from Mariposa's arms, swaying to her feet; she nearly tripped over the cat on her way out.
"Fucking again?" Mariposa grumbled. She joined Venatrix outside the tent, pouting. "We were busy."
The shhing noise Venatrix made died as soon as she remembered that they were on national television. Another wave of embarrassment instantly washed over her, though it didn't stop Venatrix from reaching for the other girl to steady herself against the trembling ground. "I'm really starting to hate these," she muttered as thick flurries of dislodged snow wafted down on them in addition to the existing snowfall. Staggering over snowdrifts and tree roots, Venatrix pulled Mariposa beneath the shelter of a sturdy-looking tree, and they watched as their little tent collapsed in on itself. Away from the remains of the fire, at least. Not like there was much of it left.
She sank into a squat against the trunk, Mariposa's hand gripped in hers. If Venatrix had to guess, this one lasted longer than the previous quake, though she had no real way of knowing.
As soon as it quieted, Percy came skidding into view, bow slung over his back and a dead rabbit dangling from his belt. "There you are!" Blond curls poked out from beneath his hat; he tugged it tightly over his ears before sweeping them both into a hug. "Think that means we'd better get… going…" He sniffled, squinting at Venatrix's face, then Mariposa's.
"What."
"Did I, um, interrupt something?" At Venatrix's quizzical look, he motioned to her mouth. "You've got… paint?"
Venatrix's eyes widened in horror. Frantically, she wiped at her mouth with her sleeve; Mariposa's equally-smeared grin did little to help her case.
Percy pointed between the two of them. "Were… were you..?"
"Shut up."
"You were—"
"I said shut up right now, Perseus."
He didn't; his deep peal of laughter echoed through the snowy forest, and Venatrx took that as a cue to tackle him from behind, or at least make an attempt. Percy yelped as she threw an arm around his neck and leaned. He twisted just as Venatrix's foot hooked around his ankle, sending them both toppling backwards into a snowdrift. Mariposa's warning calls drifted through the falling snowflakes, but even the flare of pain at the impact couldn't burst the bubble of warmth in Venatrix's chest. It took the both of them to help her back up; Mariposa brushed the snow from her curls and — to Venatrix's exasperation — forced a mouthful of pain medicine down her throat with an I-told-you-so look.
Venatrix did her best to help the others pack up the remains of their campsite. Neither Percy nor Mariposa were willing to let her carry any of the larger packs, and she couldn't help but feel awkward at her inability to help. The more she thought about it, the more the awkwardness would blend into something uglier, so instead she watched Mariposa teeter under the bulky wrapped-up animal skin tarp until Percy plucked it from her shoulders. "Thanks. Oh, how was the shooting, by the way?"
"Alright. Not my best, but." He shrugged. The rabbit he'd caught spoke for itself. He dusted the snow from its pelt, frowning at the hole in its head; Venatrix knew he would've preferred a shot through the eye. "Still feels a little wonky."
"But your fingers..?" Venatrix pressed.
"They seem fine, yeah."
She hummed, and Percy sent her what was probably supposed to be a reassuring look. Venatrix cleared her throat. "So." She nodded towards the forest. "Following the river?"
"Why can't we go hunting?"
Venatrix paused at the hint of sharpness in Mariposa's tone. "I figured we should keep moving forwards. They've seemed to want us to go this way since the beginning."
"Killing is moving forwards," Mariposa pointed out.
"Um." Percy raised his hand. "What if the mutt's still down there?"
The hand resting at her hip fiddled with the hilt of her sword. Venatrix scanning the downwards slope before them, lips pursed in thought; her allies waited for her word, and that, at least, felt like something. "We'll cut a diagonal path," she decided. "Away from the serpent, and—" her gaze landed on Mariposa— "last we knew of, both our old friends and that outlier alliance are on this side of the bank. Remember that trap we saw? We'll have to keep an eye out for more."
Mariposa nodded, though Percy's brow furrowed. "Wait, what trap?"
Venatrix let the One girl fill him in as they set off down the mountain. As usual, Charcoal bounded off ahead of them, returning every now and then to mockingly observe their minimal progress. Nevertheless, they picked their way carefully through the snow and traces of slippery mulch. Venatrix half expected the rock beneath to come loose at any step and sent them hurtling down the slope; no doubt those earthquakes did a number on the stability of the arena itself. Between that, the odd newly-fallen tree, and the ever-constant possibility of walking into an outlier trap, their way forwards was slow. If I ever find those assholes, I swear…
Given the burden of their supplies, she figured Percy and Mariposa would be inclined to appreciate the pace she set, and yet that brooding look had returned in full force to the One girl's face. Venatrix tried to catch her eye to no avail.
Up ahead, the ground seemed to flatten; small mercies. Bits of scarlet mulch peeked through upturned snow. Animal tracks? Maybe Percy can get us some more rabbits. Through the gaps in the thinning trees, Venatrix glimpsed the opposing mountainside, splotches of red and grey covered in a thick dusting of white. Falling snow danced around them still, lighter than the previous day yet ever-persistent. No river yet, though.
A sigh of exasperation drifted through the air, and Venatrix turned to find Mariposa struggling to pick up a pack she'd dropped. In an instant, Venatrix scooped it up, slinging it over her good shoulder. Mariposa sent her a glare, though it carried no real heat. "Painkillers are doing something right," she said with a shrug. "You holding up okay?"
"Fine."
Venatrix lowered her voice. "I mean like…" She gestured vaguely with her free hand and Mariposa raised a wry brow. "Y'know."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Are you feeling any better, is what I'm asking," Venatrix clarified, clamping her hand on the hilt of her weapon for some modicum of reassurance. "Like did it… did it help when we, uh…"
Mariposa cracked a smile. "No, unfortunately, making out with you did not solve all my problems," she quipped. "Sorry."
"Never does."
Venatrix nearly flinched when Percy appeared suddenly from behind them, sniffling innocently. Her glare merely bounced off his cherry expression.
"If it helps, you didn't make it worse," Mariposa added.
Venatrix wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or not. She tapped absently at her sword as the One girl stalked ahead on their path. "Make what worse?" Percy said under his breath when her back was turned.
"Y'know, I'm not really sure."
The closer she looked, the more it seemed like there was to the other girl that Venatrix didn't understand. More disturbing was the fact that there might never be time to learn. The notion weighed like lead in her heart as they trudged on through the cold. Not like it's news. Maybe her mistake was trying in the first place.
Lost in thought, Venatrix adjusted the pack on her shoulders, eyes fixed on the furred hood ahead of her. She almost didn't notice the fact that it stopped moving.
Mariposa's hand flew out in front of her. Venatrix halted, and the One girl held a finger to her lips. Behind them, Percy's crunching footfalls fell silent, and Mariposa jerked her chin towards what lay ahead.
Or rather, what didn't.
A few meters in front of them, the land dropped off sharply into nothingness. No doubt Mariposa could've let her walk straight off the cliff if she so chose. Snap out of it, Venatrix chided inwardly. Scraggly dead brush shaded the edge of the drop. While it almost blended into the deep grey river below, she should have at least noticed the sudden lack of trees.
But more important, perhaps, were the voices.
In a silent agreement, the three of them approached in a low crouch, peering cautiously over the ledge. While the actual conversation was too far away to make out, there was no mistaking the source.
A red-haired figure gestured wildly to her companion, dark-haired and pale-skinned, their sharp tones undulating through the air— Patience and Grethel. If that didn't give it away, the presence of the hulking boat certainly did. How it managed to limp out of the serpent's clutches, Venatrix had no idea; more than likely, the 'Makers let it get away. Splintered wood jutted out at odd angles along its hull, shreds of the once-gilded sail flapping in the breeze. Down the river, a bend approached. Most likely the source of the argument, given that the ship was currently angled towards the cliff face. Venatrix grimaced in pity.
It wasn't enough to quell the excitement in her chest when Percy strung his bow.
Wisely, he'd kept it accessible despite the odds and ends that hung from his frame. The distance itself wasn't too far; a fall from this height would guarantee more than a few broken bones, but it was an easy shot for her friend, she knew.
The bowstring creaked as he pulled it taut. Venatrix felt herself lean forward, bracing for the impact. In the corner of her eye, Mariposa did the same. From this angle, she couldn't tell which of the girls he was aiming for; they stood too close together. Percy exhaled, and—
Snap!
The noise came from behind; Venatrix whipped around, fumbling for her sword.
Figures leapt from behind, flashing weapons and blurred movement. She caught mere glimpses of the people carrying them, the blade screaming towards her archer's head. "Percy!"
He'd moved before the words left her lips, bow raised in defense. It blocked the incoming sword, and before the attacker could notice her advantage, he plunged the arrow deep into her eye. A shriek tore from her mouth; Percy ripped the arrow free, and, twirling it in his grip, he pivoted, restrung his bow, and sent certain death streaking over the edge of the cliff. Two cannons followed in quick succession.
More screams erupted from below, from all around. In the pandemonium, Venatrix barely recognized the Ten girl's body at Percy's feet before the shadow of a heavy blade soared towards her.
Without thinking, Venatrix threw herself out of its path, skidding in the snow. A snarl of fury spilled from behind; Venatrix whirled around, sword at the ready, to find the Seven boy readjusting his line of attack. Blue smudges dotted his face, a solid double-bladed axe gripped too-tightly in his hands. "You," he growled.
"What about me?"
"You don't even remember?" Anger deepened Ochre's scowl. "You killed Heather."
His district partner. As he spoke, Venatrix shifted her feet so her back wasn't facing the edge of the cliff; her eyes traced over his stance, anticipating. Of course I remember. She just didn't have the space for it to matter. Venatrix knew the part she had to play, so she furrowed her brow and said, "Who?"
With a cry of rage, he charged. The axe fell clumsily; air whistled where it missed her by a mile. A blood-darkened bandage on his left forearm caught her eye, and Venatrix's blade snapped nimbly towards it, a warning strike.
"Really?" Ochre spat, and she offered him a one-armed shrug.
Two could play at that game— the next strike soared clearly towards her injured shoulder, and Venatrix grunted at the strain as she ducked beneath it.
Staggering away from the cliffside, she took a quick inventory of her surroundings. Flashes of red sprayed from the fight between Mariposa and what must be the Ten boy; in her peripheral, Percy fired arrow after arrow over the cliff in hopes of shooting down the remaining sailor. No further cannon song rewarded his efforts.
Almost too late, her attention snapped back to Seven. Blade held out in defense, her weaker arm sagged under the impact as his axe shrieked down its length. Venatrix let it fall, let him stumble right into her oncoming knee. A sharp, satisfying wheeze snuffed from his lungs. The hilt of her sword dug into his shoulder, keeping him pinned as she jammed her knee again and again into his gut, and again—
And this time, he lurched forward. Tottering backwards, Venatrix let out a strangled yelp, then a gasp as she landed flat on her back.
Something dull slammed into her stomach — fists? A shoulder? — and Venatrix, hand still wrapped tightly around the hilt of her sword, snapped up to whack the blurred shadow leaning over her upside the head with the flat of the blade. A flick of her wrist, and she sent the next strike edge-on. Not quick enough to land, pity, but enough to dislodge the attacker; he scrabbled in the snow for his weapon as Venatrix rolled onto her knees, upright.
In near-perfect synergy, Percy whirled around, sending a warning arrow directly in the now-standing Seven boy's path. Ochre recoiled with a snarl, pawing at the new red line across his temple.
Venatrix didn't have to look to know her partner had another at the ready. She lunged towards Seven, angling herself to give Percy room to fire.
He did— the tremor of the ground beneath them sent it flying off-course.
Percy cursed, and that was all Ochre needed to take off. He dodged the first two arrows Percy fired towards his zigzagging back, by either skill or sheer luck. The latter, most likely, knowing her friend. The third lodged itself in his shoulder, but the Seven boy forged on; not a second later, he'd disappeared into the forest. A scowl clouded Percy's face as he finally lowered his bow.
Venatrix barely noticed the trembling earth once she registered the sound of whimpers.
Her head snapped towards the ledge, towards the twitching body that sat amidst red snow, the creature perched on top of it. Discarded blades lay strewn around the scene, unneeded. Merciless fists slammed over and over into what must've once been a face; the only indication that it was ever alive was the cannon shot booming overhead.
Still, Mariposa didn't stop.
There was something alluring about her vitriol. The spray of fresh blood dusting her face, her disheveled hair, the mad glint in her eyes— a laugh bubbled from her lips when she realized her audience.
Venatrix didn't shy away from it this time. She stepped closer.
Mariposa's hands stilled. Crimson dripped from her knuckles and water from her eyes, leaving trails of pale skin down her equally-crimson cheeks. She sniffled as Venatrix tiptoed around a katana, hands raised in surrender in her approach; that crooked smile sent a pang through Venatrix's chest.
An earth-shaking crack nearly knocked her off-balance, and Mariposa's eyes stretched wide.
Without thinking, Venatrix dove.
All at once, the ground began to crumble. Her hand clasped around Mariposa's, their death-grip suddenly the only thing keeping the One girl from plunging into the icy abyss. Sharp things jabbed into her front, the roar of falling rock into water assaulting her ears. Venatrix's muscles screamed at the strain; a pained grunt creaked out between her grinding teeth, and she dug her toes in, praying her body weight was enough to counter the smaller girl's.
All she could manage was equilibrium.
Pebbles skipped out from beneath as the rest of the cliff yearned to give way. A red haze bled into her vision, sharp tendrils that originated from the grinding bones of her collar. I can't… I can't hold on to her. Movement in the corner of her eye— "Percy," she croaked. "Help."
A stillness. It lasted long enough for unadulterated dread to fill Venatrix's heart.
She couldn't look. Didn't dare tear her gaze from Mariposa's eyes, couldn't risk turning her head. But she felt it— the sudden presence at her side, the weight lifted from her shoulder. Percy's hand stretched down, grabbing Mariposa's in his strong grip, and together, they pulled. Showers of dirt threatened to send them all tumbling into open air, but they pushed on, gaining inch by inch until Mariposa came barreling up over the edge. They collapsed in a heap, panting and groaning, and exhaling hiccuping sobs in the One girl's case.
Slowly, their breathing evened. The burn of exertion still crawled through Venatrix's body as they scooted back from the newly-formed ledge, gathering scattered supplies as they went.
With shaking hands, Mariposa tucked her katanas into her belt. The other weapon, she kicked over the cliff, to rest with the body of its owner. It took longer for her to catch her breath, inhaling heavily through her nose and forcing it out through her bloodied lips. Venatrix let the girl curl up against her side, steadying her own breath to match.
It was Percy who forced them to move.
Neither had the strength to argue, though Venatrix barely had the ability to comply. Still, they dragged themselves across the mountain once again, around disheveled boulders and over fallen trees, resting only once Percy deemed it safe. Wordlessly, they set up camp, the silence dancing between them countered somewhat by the sound of shuffling feet, the scraping of tent poles, and soon, the muffled crackle of a small fire.
By the time they settled down, the stench of blood coming from Mariposa and her clothes was nearly unbearable. She sat motionless in front of the fire, Charcoal curled up in her lap. With the cleanest scrap of fabric she could find, Venatrix began cleaning her face.
A small smile quirked her lips at the sense of deja vu. Mariposa didn't return it.
Instead, she let out a still-shaky breath. Steadily, the blood spatters and tear tracks disappeared as if they'd never existed. A feeble illusion; when Venatrix took the One girl's red-soaked hands in hers, she realized they were trembling.
Venatrix cleaned them anyway. As best as she could with her one hand available, she worked the water-soaked rag through her fingers, removing more and more of the scarlet stains with each squeeze.
The One girl watched absently; when Venatrix finished, her hands receded, wrapping tightly around her torso. For a minute, only Percy's sniffles dared to break the silence.
Finally, Mariposa turned to him. "Why?" she rasped. "Why bother with me?"
Again, the archer hesitated. He didn't respond immediately, in the midst of counting the arrows left in his quiver. "Figured I'd return the favor," he said, setting down the quiver. His gaze fell to his own hands, the ones responsible for two more deaths in the span of… five seconds? Three? "Think of it as a promise."
Firelight glinted off the pink scar across his right palm. Venatrix met his gaze, his half-smile. Lifting her sweater, she removed her glove and let Mariposa see the matching one lining her own palm; the other girl's lips pressed together in some sort of understanding.
"I can't make you the same promise as I made her," Percy said honestly, "but friends don't let friends fall over cliffs."
true vengeance 151 . weebly . com
A/N: A little earlier than mid-month, but that's because.. happy 2-year anniversary to this story ! Wow, that is a long-ass time. I like to think I've been relatively consistent with this thing over the years which is crazy to think about .. This is for sure the longest project I've ever worked on so that's. For sure something ;~; We've got a while yet before the end of this fic, but I just wanna say thank you to everyone who's stuck around for that long, and anyone who's been reading in general :heart: We deserve a gay disaster chapter I think bjhvdbhvfdb. They really said fuck D10...
Also I'm sorry in advance for the chapter that comes after this. I think I'm gonna post two next month because I don't like the idea of going so long on the note that it'll leave off on. Do with that what you will (or better off. Don't worry about it yet.)
Anyways. Happy anniversary TrV ! gay people. murder. 7 left yeehaw !
- Nell