Chapter 6: Trail of Blood
The rancher watched them until, with a last switch of the chestnut tail of Allen's mare, the three disappeared from sight. Thomas sighed and rubbed the velvet nose that prodded him in the shoulder. "Oh, Lady," he addressed the nose's owner, staring into her clear brown eyes. "That swordsman had better watch himself." He looked back to where the trio had vanished and shook his head before returning to his house and bolting the door behind him.
Allen sat stiffly on the back of his chestnut mare and stared at a spot between Kanda's shoulders where the black and white fabric of his uniform met in a point. It was not that this spot was of special interest, or indeed of remarkable color, but that it was the spot that, when focused on for long periods of time, made Kanda agitated and incited his paranoia. The white-haired teen had decided roughly ten minutes earlier, when the little group had first moved out of sight of the rancher's homestead, that Kanda had obviously had some sort of horrendous and traumatic experience in the woods that would have left a normal person shivering in a padded room in an asylum somewhere and that it was neither his business nor his place to enquire about that experience. Seven minutes before the present, that decision was revised as the pale exorcist, overcome with curiosity, reached the conclusion that, since they were both exorcists and they were clearly on a mission together and anything that effected Kanda was going to effect the mission, it most certainly was his business as Kanda's partner to have some knowledge of exactly what transpired in the older exorcist's head. With all of the moral and ethical concerns now safely closeted in a steel vault of semi-valid reasoning—allowing Allen's human nature to run rampant without any fear of punishment by his conscience—the only problem that was left was finding a way to force the inscrutable and intractable swordsman to open up and share something that he no doubt planned on keeping secret even beyond the grave. That was why, only three minutes ago, Allen had begun his staring contest with the back of Kanda's long uniform coat with the intent of triggering one of the occasional violent outbursts of temper that passed as normal conversation for the frigid and inscrutable Japanese exorcist.
Presently, Allen found his eyes watering and smarting from three minutes of intense and unblinking staring, causing the crisp line between the black and white fabrics to blur and run together, and Kanda—stupid, irritating, annoying, sociopathic asshole, Inner Allen growled—was completely ignorant or ignoring something that usually made him apoplectic with hyper-suspicious rage. Rather than responding as the parasite-bearing exorcist had hoped, the raven-haired man sat straight-backed and stiff on his dapple-grey stallion. This confused the cursed teen: Kanda was always aware of his surroundings: of every nuance of menace, of every glance and stare directed at his slender form. Allen redoubled the force of his glare out of sheer frustration until his pale cheeks turned red and the veins on his forehead bulged out. Kanda's right shoulder twitched and his horse snorted and shook its coarse black mare. Allen hissed softly and abandoned his original plan, choosing instead to nudge his chestnut mare up beside Kanda's much-taller mount until the two exorcists' legs bumped together with every step made by an iron-shod hoof. A brief thrill of satisfaction stole through the younger exorcist when the swords master slanted him an ugly look out of the corner of his narrowed eyes without turning his head: now he had his attention.
"Do you want to talk about it?" the cursed teen questioned calmly, feigning disinterest in the hopes of getting the recluse swordsman to speak. He had learned long ago that at any sign of interest, Kanda would clam up and once he did, no amount of prizing would get him to speak a single word, whereas complete indifference would lull the older exorcist into allowing a few semi-personal phrases to trickle out every once-in-a-while. Reverse psychology, Inner Allen supplied, you have to want none to get some. Allen blinked with surprise, not expecting the sudden innuendo. Inner Allen giggled quietly in some dark, hidden corner of his mind: the same corner from which the desire to watch that damn white belt slide off Kanda's hips had emerged on the train. The pale boy shook his head gently a few times to clear the unwanted thoughts and returned his attention to the other exorcist. He recoiled almost immediately. The ugly look that had marred Kanda's face only seconds earlier had morphed into a terrible rictus of fury and barely-controlled self-loathing. Allen was stunned, Kanda never showed that much emotion in the presence of anyone. Other emotions flitted across the Japanese exorcist's face like clouds over the sun moving too quickly to be identified before Kanda managed to wrestle his betraying expressions back into his usual stoic mask. Curiosity rose like a tide in Allen, whose restraint had neither the strength nor experience to match Kanda's, and the pale-tressed teen could feel the eagerness beaming off of his face. Kanda noticed and focused his eyes back on the path ahead, urging the powerfully-built grey stud forward and away from Allen's horse. The younger of the two exorcists, knowing his ploy wasn't going to work at this point and resigning himself to being ignored by the other exorcist for the next millennia, reigned in his own flame-colored mare to make Kanda's move easier.
Damn, Allen thought as he watched the space between himself and the ill-tempered Japanese man widen. A low chuckle from behind him made the parasite-bearing teen turn in the saddle. Samuel, who had been last in line and had seen Allen's attempt at discerning what was bothering Kanda, was laughing at him. Allen's lip stuck out and his expression soured and turned petulant. The Finder just grinned and guided his sturdy brown gelding in the same maneuver the grey-eyed boy had employed only moments earlier.
"Nice try," the Finder remarked, still grinning. "Though if you wanted to know something you should have asked about something mundane, like the weather or what color of underwear he happens to be wearing. Don't ever ask him directly about something you actually care about; he likes to screw with people's minds."
"What makes you think I'm not interested in Kanda's underwear color?" Allen quipped flippantly, his sense of humor wresting control of his mouth from his brain momentarily. Samuel raised an eyebrow and Allen blushed. "I was joking! And I'm sure you're an expert in Kanda-ology, since you obviously know what to say," the young exorcist snapped bitterly in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, hunching up in the saddle to sulk. Samuel just laughed again and tousled the spider web-fine white hair that floated around the smaller man's head in the light breeze. Allen shrugged the hand off in a complicated wiggle then shot a glare at the Finder that quickly softened into confusion. "What do you think is bothering him?"
"A woman!" the brown-haired man chirped light-heartedly, but he grew solemn very quickly, dismissing his own joke with his somber air. The Finder sighed and sat back in the saddle, dropping his reins to rest on the horn and putting his hands flat on the gelding's rump. "I don't know, Allen. I've never seen a perfectly healthy person just keel over like that, let alone Kanda. Of course, it's especially difficult finding out what's the matter just with Kanda being who he is; I can't imagine him suddenly turning into a sweet-tempered, friendly Mr. Sunshine-and-light and sharing all of his deepest, darkest secrets with us." Allen smirked at that as Samuel continued. "He probably had a hallucination that shook him up pretty badly; I doubt that it was just a seizure."
"But what would he hallucinate? What scares Kanda so badly, enough to make him push everyone away like that?" Allen half-yelled in exasperation. There was a pause as both men stared at Kanda's seemingly-disinterested back. "Okay," Allen clarified. "That probably wasn't the best question given that Kanda drives everyone away regardless of whether or not he's scared. Still, he's even more anti-social than usual. Do you realize that he has somehow managed to go beyond anti-social? What he is now is like a derivative of anti-social!"
There was another long pause, then—"You know he's listening to us, don't you?"
Another pause. "Damn. Now he'll never talk: he knows we're interested!" Allen snorted with laughter at the Finder's easily-overheard stage whisper and, if possible, Kanda's posture became even more rigid and inflexible.
"God, this is going to be a long mission," Samuel groaned. "I hope you turn out to be a great conversationalist because there's only you to talk to now that Kanda has fully descended onto the land of monosyllabic answers." Allen blinked and felt vaguely insulted until he realized that he was being teased.
The white-haired teen huffed with mock-disdain. "Well, maybe if you had greater—hey. Is that it?"
"That's it," Samuel confirmed.
The trio had been travelling on the wooded path for nearly three hours. Thomas's ranch had vanished from view quickly and the path had wound its way through the dense forest that covered most of the flat valley. They had ridden through the level woods that blanketed the fertile flatlands for an hour or two in mostly-complete silence, aside for a few brief questions about how Kanda was sure that the faint path he was leading them down was actually the right path, when the ground became steeper and the trees more stunted. Patches of bare rock had made their appearances more often as well and the footing became treacherous since the pine needle-covered earth offered no traction to their horses' shod hooves. Now, three hours after their initial departure, they had crested a steep rise where the path had been carved into the side of one of the jagged mountains that had loomed and glowered on the horizon when they had first reached the train station. Their view suddenly expanded, revealing the rest of the path snaking down the other, sheerer side of the craggy rock face. Pines stood at odd angles on this side, having been blasted by the wind and scoured by the elements until branches only remained on the lee-ward side of their gnarled trunks. Far below and half-hidden by the thousands of spiny needles that stood out bravely from their twiggy basements, the steep, slate-clad gables of the manor were just visible, nestled in a fold in the dark grey granite mountain.
Kanda reigned in his mount at the top of the declining path and Allen and Samuel drew up behind him. The wind whistled across the ragged peaks with stinging force and, though it was still early afternoon, the sky was a slate grey, the sun hidden behind the swirling mists rising from the valleys below. The grey stud's breath condensed in the chill air and the ghostly plume it formed blew back across the two exorcists and the Finder. Allen's chestnut mare snorted and tossed her head, stomping on the cold rock of the path.
"Well, this is a charming location. It's freezing and it's mid-summer and there's no view to speak of, just fog, mist, cloud, and maybe some more fog," Samuel grumbled sarcastically. "Obviously the perfect spot for a summer home." Allen, who was delighted to finally have some semblance of conversation after hours of silence, took his statement as an opportunity to complain.
"Didn't you say that this whole ride to the manor wasn't going to take very long? Something like an hour or two as I recall. I'm starting to think Kanda was right about not giving a time, only his little 'thirty miles.'" Allen dropped his voice an octave theatrically on the last two words in an attempt to mimic Kanda's sharp-edged baritone and ended up sounding like a seventy-year-old chain smoker. Samuel laughed and Kanda sent him a look that would have made a normal person's blood freeze in their veins.
"I was just trying to keep you from being depressed about the length and misery of our mission. You were in such a good mood at the time," Samuel chuckled back. Allen scoffed but didn't respond because he had taken the opportunity provided by their slight pause to root around in his saddlebags in search of a snack to fuel his incredible metabolism. Kanda, still pissed about the earlier impression, just squeezed his mount's sides with his heel s and began the descent to the valley below. The Finder followed, pausing only to glance back at the oblivious white-haired teen. He figured that it was better to let the young exorcist fall behind a little and catch up later than to have him pass out from hunger. The brown-haired man shrugged and continued, nudging his heavy gelding forward until its nose nearly touched the grey stud's inky tail with every step. Both of the horses moved slowly on the steep, slick slope, their haunches rolling almost comically as they sought purchase on the smooth rock below.
Up above, Allen's grasping hands closed on a bag of candied walnuts. With a shout of glee he straightened in the saddle and hoisted the bag aloft triumphantly.
"I found it! I fou—hey! Hey, guys?" The cursed teen stared around for a while before catching sight of Samuel and Kanda about a hundred yards down the mountain, navigating a narrow portion of the trail that overhung a sheer drop-off. "Hey!" he yelled again reproachfully and brought his heels to his mare's sides sharply. The overly-hasty and unintentional kick from her rider sent the mare skittering forward, her hooves sliding on the rock, and both of them teetered for the barest of moments on the beginning of the slope before plunging down the trail. Allen's eyes were side and his knuckles white as the mare surged toward their companions, struggling to halt their uncontrolled advance. Allen's cries of terror made the two older men turn their heads to find the source of the commotion. Samuel let loose a blistering curse and tried to pull his stolid brown gelding out of the way, a nigh-impossible feat and the steep, narrow path. Kanda, however, maneuvered the tall grey stallion into the center of the path and turned him to face the careening flame-colored mare. Allen groaned.
"No! No! Kanda! Get out of the way!" the panicked white-haired boy shrieked, abandoning his useless hold on the reins in favor of grabbing the more solid saddle horn. He caught sight of the faintly determined expression mingled with annoyance that twisted the swords master's face and the younger exorcist had the sudden image and unpleasant of the two of them and their horses falling over the precipice on the sheer side of the winding path to smash into little bloody pieces on the rocks below. "Oh, for God's sake, you stubborn bastard!" Allen cried out in desperation. "Get the hell out of the way!"
The next second, the bright chestnut mare's chest slammed into the dappled stud's broad shoulder with a loud crunch. The much larger grey horse snorted and locked his knees and the wind whooshed out of the mare in a sharp gasp. The sudden jolt threw Allen from his precarious perch over the mare's lurching back and launched him sling-shot style over the mare's bowed head and into Kanda's chest. Kanda rocked backward with the force of the blow dealt by the smaller exorcist's impact, sliding sideways in the saddle as the stud loosed a vicious show of temper: squealing angrily and biting the mare hard on the neck with his blunt, square teeth. Allen could hear the raven-haired man's breath his out from between his teeth as the Japanese swordsman struggled to right himself, a difficult endeavor since his arms had reflexively clamped around Allen's wriggling weight and he had only one leg hooked over the saddle with which to drag himself and his less-than-helpful burden back up onto the stallion's back. Meanwhile the younger exorcist had drawn some conclusions about the safety of his current situation, namely being held up in the arms of an ill-tempered, angry Japanese swordsman against whose chest his face was pressed with smothering force and who was the only thing keeping them both from dropping sixteen hands onto cold slate and under two sets of sharp, stomping hooves. Allen blanched as white as his hair, shrieked again, leaving a trail of saliva on the front of the black-haired exorcist's uniform, and tried to climb to safety, throwing one leg over the saddle and coincidentally around Kanda's waist.
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God!" Allen chanted mindlessly under his breath, clutching at Kanda's arms to anchor himself and making a concerted effort to straighten up by throwing his weight around.
"Damn it, Bean Sprout," Kanda growled in response to both the pale teen's antics and their current position, then sneezed when he inhaled a deep breath of Allen' silky white hair which had been shoved rudely into his face by Allen's lurching. The sneeze further startled the already-spooked horses and the flamingly chestnut mare flinched, wheeled, and tried to bolt, but her iron-shod hooves skidded out from underneath her on the slick stone and the motion that had been intended to be a leap turned into a collapse. She fell squealing and lashing out in every direction. The dappled stallion danced backward to avoid her fall and Samuel, who had pulled his brown gelding out of danger by some miracle of chance, started shouting words that added to the general uproar.
"Shit! That's a cliff!" the distraught Finder bellowed. Kanda's head whipped around, cracking his jaw on the top of the younger exorcist's head, and his deeply blue eyes widened. The stud kept moving, his large hooves moving dangerously close to the edge. The raven-haired man swore and drew Mugen, bringing the blade's flat down heavily on the horse's quivering haunches. The stallion screamed as the wickedly sharp edges bit into the muscled flesh leaving shallow cuts and lunged forward, plowing into the still-downed mare with the force of a freight train. The writhing chestnut horse's shrill cries joined the stallion's in a terrible cacophony and her head snaked out so that she could sink her bared teeth into the stud's upper foreleg. Kanda's grey mount's long front legs left the ground as he reared back and stood on his wide-splayed hind legs. Allen found himself slamming face-first into Kanda's front and hit his nose on the swordsman's silver badge. Kanda reeled backwards again as both the stud's movement and the cursed teen's unexpected shift sent the swordsman tumbling back over his center of gravity. The reallocation of the weight on its back made the tall grey horse overbalance and with Samuel watching in a state of stunned horror, the horse and its two struggling riders fell backwards onto solid rock.
For a moment all Samuel could see was the stud's heavy body, splayed out on top of the crushed remains of what had once been a saddle, waving its lengthy legs in the air helplessly like an enormous overturned beetle. A sickening feeling roiled in the Finder's gut; people just didn't survive having more than half a ton of horse come crashing down on them. Still, Samuel couldn't look away and he watched as the stallion continued to struggle, shedding bits of shattered tack as it flailed until it flopped heavily over onto its side, then, with a grunt, the horse set its hooves down firmly on the stone and staggered to its feet, stumbling away from the cliff's edge and down the perilous road a short distance where it stood with its head down and its flanks heaving. Clouds of mist spewed from its flared nostrils as its breathing slowly returned to normal. It was only then, when he had no further reason to avoid looking at the place where Kanda and Allen's crushed bodies would lay, that the brown-haired man allowed his sad gaze to fall on the dreaded spot. Breath whooshed out of the Finder in a relieved sigh to mingle with hastily-hidden tears of relief.
There, teetering on the very edge of the precipice, were the two exorcists who he had believed dead. Kanda lay on his back with his long inky hair tumbled around him in utter disarray, his arms wrapped tightly around a curled black-and-white bundle that was apparently the trembling body of the younger exorcist. Samuel could see the anti-social exorcist gasp for two deep, heaving breaths before his eyes rolled back slightly and his arms went limp, slipping off of the pale teen's still form. The swordsman's shaky limbs dropped to the ground on either side of his prone body, one of his hands dangling off of the edge of the cliff, unsupported by earth from the elbow down. The other hand behaved in a fashion more in keeping with the swords master's usual behavior: though it, too, had shown weakness, it maintained a death-grip on the leather-bound hilt of the Innocence blade. The cursed exorcist slowly uncoiled from the little heap he had folded up in, looking for all the world like an isopod or fall caterpillar, and lay draped across Kanda's chest for a few more moments before pushing himself up on his elbows over the older boy, their legs still twined together from their fall and their faces scant inches apart.
Samuel expected the Japanese man to respond with cold words and violent movements, threats and brandishing of Mugen's naked blade. He as, to say the least, stunned when Kanda just lay there, allowing his personal bubble to be invaded and his body to be used as a cushion by a man he had clearly expressed dislike for on innumerable occasions. The Finder nearly fell off his horse in shock when Kanda lifted his free hand to Allen's face and wiped at it with the edge of his sleeve, right where the black fabric met that of the white cuff. The poor simple Finder's brain was grinding to a halt as the foundations of animosity that supported his image of Kanda started to crumble at the tender action.
"Get off of me, Bean Sprout," the dark exorcist whispered, his voice rough and husky. "You're bleeding on me and you weigh a ton." Allen's face flushed bright red before he scrambled to his feet and tried to stop the steady trickle of blood flowing from his nostrils, Kanda's words having finally sunk in.
"Sorry!" the white-haired teen squeaked, his bloody hands fluttering around pointlessly as he alternated between tipping his head backward and forward. It became painfully obvious that Allen wasn't entirely sure how to staunch his nose bleed and, as Samuel judged from the malicious look the raven-tressed Japanese man was sending in the other exorcist's direction, his uncertainty was beginning to piss Kanda off. Kanda didn't bother to acknowledge the other teen's apology, he just sat up slowly, clutching at his ribs as he had done only a day earlier. A few small bubbles of frothy blood dripped from one corner of his mouth.
"Ah!" Allen cried out. "Is it your ribs again?" The Japanese man just shot the shorter boy a withering glare and Samuel relaxed. That explains a lot, he thought, relieved since was now sure he didn't have to deal with a sudden personality change from the stoic man, and he chalked up Kanda's earlier actions to being out of his mind with pain. With that in mind, the Finder swung down out of his saddle and approached the fallen exorcist, medical kit in hand. As he knelt down beside Kanda, Samuel spared a glance for Allen.
"What happened to you?" he asked, tearing a piece of cotton wool for the cursed teen's nose.
"Ah dink ah bwoke mah dose when ah 'it 'Anda's badge," Allen responded, his voice altered by the mixture of blood and cotton currently shoved up his nose.
"Well, stop trying to tip your head, you look like an idiot," Samuel directed. Kanda's expression registered agreement with this statement. "Just pinch it right below the cartilage," he continued. "Yeah, just like that." Once he had Allen's minor injuries sorted out, the Finder returned his attention to the swordsman.
"'S he gonna be alright?" Allen asked, wrinkling his nose comically above the tuft of cotton protruding from one nostril. Samuel had to choke back a snort of laughter before replying.
"He'll be fine."
Samuel turned his calm brown eyes back to his patient and was met with a shockingly blue stare that radiated impatience in palpable waves. The Finder's jocular nature chose that moment to surface and the oldest member of the trio found himself fighting down the irresistible urge to make a joke at the expense of the only person present whose sense of humor was entirely atrophied.
"So, Kanda, I take it you enjoyed your little exhibition back at headquarters. I'm just disappointed that you only let us strip you when you're too injured for us to do anything about it—ow! Ow, owowow. Yeah, okay, you've made your point." The Finder hissed in pain and Kanda's tight grip loosened, allowing Samuel's hand to return to a more normal position, namely one in which his hand was not bent so far back that his knuckles nearly touched the back of his arm. "Sheesh," the brown-haired man huffed, rubbing his wrist as Kanda worked on unbolting, unbuckling, and unbuttoning his heavy coat. When the exorcist's uniform coat finally fell open to reveal his toned chest, Samuel let out a low whistle. The swordsman's hand, which had never really let go of its threatening hold on the stocky Finder's arm, clenched so that the older man could feel his bones grind together and the Finder hurried to clarify.
"I think you've cracked a couple of ribs, Kanda. Again. This time they're not broken up quite so badly, though. I'm still amazed from the last time; I read in your file that you healed quickly, but I still find it hard to believe that you managed to completely heal ribs broken only a day ago. That's why we're going to assume that the fall you just took just reinjured what was already damaged rather than broke something in perfect health. It's easier to wrap my mind around that way." Samuel used his chatter to distract the moody exorcist from the bandages he was currently wrapping tightly around Kanda's chest to replace the ones that had been removed that morning.
"Just hurry up," the exorcist interrupted, breathing out from between gritted teeth. Samuel paused.
"Shouldn't these ribs not hurt anymore? I mean, last time you were up and walking and bitching at everyone in minutes and these injuries aren't nearly as bad." The Finder's questions were delivered in a worried tone of voice. Allen, too, paused in his activities (eating the candied walnuts that had miraculously survived the descent intact) out of curiosity. It was weird.
"Che," was their answer. "These aren't bad enough to be healed that way."
The Finder nodded his acceptance of this explanation and resumed talking, but Allen just fixed Kanda with a stern gaze. The pale teen had known Kanda for long enough, had been on enough missions with him, to pick up on Kanda's moods. The signs were faint, very faint, unless it was one of the swordsman's occasional eruptions of temper, so most people labored under the mistaken assumption that the Japanese man was just a frigid asshole who had no emotions. Allen, on the other hand, knew they were wrong, at least about the no emotions part. And Allen knew what Kanda's current mood was.
He's lying. And he's afraid, Inner Allen whispered in the deep recessed of his mind. Yeah, he agreed with himself. He's always healed all of his injuries before, so what's different now? Inner Allen just shrugged in his mind.
Kanda stood shortly after Allen's internal debate drew to a close, rising slowly and swaying slightly. Samuel made as if to steady the shaky exorcist, but a look from the swords master stopped him.
"Has anyone checked on the horses?" the wounded exorcist asked, his words spat out from between his clenched teeth as he took a few halting steps away from the cliff's edge with Samuel clucking over him like a mother hen. Mugen, which was put down when Kanda removed his coat, was left on the cold stone where the exorcist had been sitting.
"No, we haven't check—oh."
"Allen's speech trailed off and the three simply stood, staring back up the trail to where the two horses had originally collided. The chestnut mare lay heavily on the ground, her eyes rolling wildly in pain and fear. Her long, delicate legs were bent and broken beneath her, sticking out at odd angles, and strips of her glossy hide had been ripped off during her tumble on the cold slate. Allen and Samuel felt frozen in horror, but Kanda limped up the steep slope to kneel by the mare's head. He laid one hand on her cheek, just below her terrified eye, and turned his head slightly to address the other two men.
"My sword," was all the raven-haired swordsman said, but the words rang with the authority of command even through the slight wheezing of his breath. Allen moved mutely to the edge of the trail and picked up the Innocence blade by its dark hilt. It seemed to consume to heat from his fingers, absorbing his strength from his living flesh. The cursed teen shivered. It was the first time he had ever handled the blade and felt the true intensity of its purpose. He hurried back to Kanda, eager to hand over the unnerving weight, heavy as death itself, of the swordsman's Innocence. The Japanese exorcist received the weapon without a word of thanks with his left hand and grunted softly when the movement jostled his damaged ribs.
Allen practically jumped away when he was relieved of his burden, but despite the increase in physical distance, the Innocence's chilly aura hovered over him as strongly as ever. The hairs on the nape of his neck stood straight up and a shiver ran down his spine. Shit, Inner Allen hissed. How can he carry that thing around with him all the time? Once again, Allen found himself agreeing with his own sentiments. It's strange though. Mugen's never felt like that before, even when Kanda was threatening someone with it. Out of the corner of his eye, the cursed teen noticed the look Samuel was directing at him and he shook his pale head to clear it.
The cloudy sky above rumbled and the dark clouds roiled like boiling water. Icy rain trickled down for a moment, then, as if some mighty celestial tap had been ripped open, curtains of frigid water came sheeting down from above, drenching the trio to the skin in seconds. There, in the darkness under the storm, Kanda laid Mugen's vicious edge against the mare's throat, and, his action caught in the brilliant white light of the lightning, cut deeply though the flesh, severing the thick veins that pulsed there. The mare's screams were sheared into a bubbling whistle and crimson gouts of blood splattered over the swordsman's pale face, hid black and white uniform, his trembling hands until he was drenched in a monochrome scarlet.
Allen watched in revulsion as gore spread in a widening circle, fine trials of red fluid running down the steep slope and dripping over the edge of the cliff in a morbid waterfall to be carried away by the howling winds. Kanda never moved his hand from the horse's face while the mare's struggles became more and more feeble, then ceased altogether. The dark-haired exorcist stayed kneeling for several long moments, then lifted his blood-stained hand from the mare's chestnut cheek to close her staring brown eye gently. Silently, he moved to the mare's side and loosened the girth strap and breast band so that he could pull the saddle from the mare's back.
"Let's go," Kanda said while he turned holding the bloodied tack, his voice oddly monotone. Drops of cardinal oozed from the saturated hems of Kanda's uniform, making the stoic exorcist appear like some angel of death walking off the field of battle bearing his gory prize. The image was completed when the stiff winds caught the edges of Kanda's uniform, lifting his raven hair and inky jacket do they flared behind him like wings and a jagged slash of lightning reflected eldritch blue from Kanda's half-lidded eyes and the metal of the saddle.
The Finder and the pale exorcist drew back when the macabre specter that was Kanda passed them on the way down the slippery trail. The two remaining horses had stopped perhaps a hundred yards away on a broad switchback in the trail and they snorted nervously as the copper reek of spilt blood wafted to them from the Japanese man's drenched form. He caught their trailing reins in one bloody hand and held them until the other two arrived. The gelding's reins were passed to Samuel, who jumped up into the saddle. Allen found himself clutching the stallion's reins as Kanda walked slowly to the stud's side, the paused to lean heavily on the horse's broad shoulder to catch his breath. Allen and Samuel watched the struggling exorcist worriedly as he peeled his gore-soaked body away from the stallion's grey hairs, leaving a bloody smear, and awkwardly hefted the mare's stained saddle onto the stallion's much-broader back. Kanda tightened the girth around the stud's belly, pulling the ill-fitting saddle down onto the stud's unblanketed back, then staggered to the stirrup, heaving himself onto the stud's back in a grotesque lurch. A short, sharp gasp of pain left the exorcist's lips and he slumped forward over the saddle horn.
Allen and Samuel exchanged glances and silently decided who Allen was going to ride behind. The pale exorcist moved to stand next to the tall stud's stirrup after passing the reins up to Kanda and found himself staring up at thigh-high leather boots sparkling with ruby droplets of blood.
"Um," Allen hummed slightly, tapping Kanda's booted foot gingerly. "Could you move your foot?" The wounded exorcist gazed blearily down at the shorter teen. Allen could almost hear Kanda's waspish refusal and the Japanese man hadn't even opened his mouth yet, so he was intensely surprised when Kanda slowly shifted his booted foot out of the stirrup. After a brief pause while the cursed teen recovered from his shock at the swordsman's uncharacteristic acceptance, Allen pushed one foot into the stirrup and grabbed hold of the horn and the cantle. The stallion was taller than the white-haired boy had expected and the cursed teen ended up hopping on one foot for a while before leaping up behind Kanda in an ungainly, ungraceful flop. The stallion snorted and tossed his head at the sudden increase in weight on his back, but stood firm while his burdens shifted. Allen stared around a bit, searching for a handhold. His eyes settled on the cantle and he gave it serious consideration. Just then, Kanda settled back into the saddle and the space between his flesh and the smooth leather vanished. The motion sent the stench of fresh blood washing over the shorter exorcist.
Damn, the younger exorcist sighed mentally and rejected the cantle. The saddle horn? No, too awkward. Deeper in his mind, Inner Allen cackled with glee totally inappropriate for the current situation. Oh, yes. Grab the saddle horn. I'm sure Kanda will love to have your arms around him and your hands nearly in his lap. For a moment Allen was grateful that his face was hidden behind the Japanese exorcist's back because he was sure that his cheeks were burning scarlet. There was another long pause while Allen's thoughts whizzed around in his head pointlessly and the black-haired exorcist and the brown-eyed finder finally got tired of waiting in the pouring rain on treacherous ground for the youngest group member's decision. The sound of the brown gelding's hooves was the cursed teen's only warning before Kanda shoved his foot back into the recently-vacated stirrup and nudged the stallion into movement. A quick jolt made Allen yelp and fall sideways, sliding across the horse's smooth rump.
"Shit!" he yelped, his pale hair flapping around his face, and the smaller exorcist latched onto Kanda's thick white belt to keep himself from falling completely off of the horse. His desperate grasp pulled the belt up Kanda's trim waist to press against Kanda's ribs and the swords master slashed backwards with one vicious elbow in retaliation, managing somehow to stab Allen's leg with Mugen's sheathed blade as well.
And so they went on in silence broken only by the sounds of the horses and Allen's grumbles, maneuvering through the hairpin turns and the wicked cutbacks in the trail slowly, twisting down the side of the steep mountain at a careful, deliberate pace while streams of water running the color of rust spilled over the sheer rock. The sky above rumbled again, splitting the gloom with white-hot tongues of lightning. The soft hiss of rain was their constant companion and hard droplets ricocheted off of the stone, their faces, and the horses' bodies. The drumming of falling water was muted when the three reached the base of the mountain and guided their tired mounts onto the muddy dirt track that would lead them to the estate whose roofs they had glimpsed earlier.
Kanda shivered abruptly when they passed onto a portion of the narrow trail overhung with sheltering dark-green pine boughs. Allen could feel the tremors of the lithe body before him through his grip on the other's narrow waist and he unconsciously shifted closer, tucking himself more tightly under the ridge of the cantle.
"Are you alright?" the grey-eyed teen asked quietly, leaning up slightly to speak in the older man's ear. Samuel eased up beside them so that the two horses trudged side-by-side through the fetlock-deep mire.
"Kanda?" the Finder prompted when the swords master proved unresponsive.
"Kanda!" Allen exclaimed worriedly as the stallions reins slid from the raven-haired man's grasp. His shivers increased until his entire form quaked like one in the throes of a seizure and he began to slide sideway in the rain- and blood-slicked saddle. Mugen rattled in its sheath and Kanda let out a moan like a wounded animal, his eyes wide open but unseeing. The horses kept moving at their plodding pace, seemingly ignoring the plight of their passengers.
Icy fear gripped the cursed teen, who wrapped his arms around Kanda's upper chest to hold the insensate exorcist on the horse's back. Kanda was completely unaware of this; he could only hear their voices faintly, as though from a great distance. Pale light, harsh in its astringent whiteness, stretched on endlessly, featurelessly before him. His own long, inky black hair fell into his eyes, stinging them, but he could not close them or move his hands to brush it away. Instead, a matching darkness crept out from the strands, seeping out in a shadowy veil like ink running on wet paper, and the swordsman felt as though he were choking. He gasped for breath, his wheezes scratching at his throat. Allen's shrieks went unheard and the swordsman's body went limp. He crumpled in the saddle, supported only by the parasite-bearing exorcist, his head falling back onto Allen's shoulder. The voices he had heard, too faintly to be recognized, faded away into a soft, breathless hush and his dark lashes fluttered shut as he slipped into complete unconsciousness.
The rain poured down in mute witness to the clamorous cries of the Finder and the pale exorcist as they struggled with the unresponsive bulk of the Japanese man, further drenching their already-sopping clothes and stinging the laid-back ears of the two remaining horses, who continued down the muddy morass of the trail to a last, sharp turn. The scraggly forest opened up and there, barely a hundred yards away, stood the towering wrought-iron gates of the mansion.
(appears from the swirling mists of the unknown) Hi, guys. Did you know that this chapter has actually been completely done for about two months now and that I just didn't have time to type it up? I hope you haven't given up on me. Anyway, any questions? I might answer them if I don't have to give away my plot to do so, but there's no harm in trying. Thank you for reading and sticking with me.
As a side note, I have discovered that I really do enjoy beating Kanda up, so look forward to more in the future. I'll say it again, it's important! Look forward to chaper seven, it's already started.