Sorry I'm so late guys. Honestly, I had a shit week last week, and it took me several days to recover from it. To make matters worse, I was really struggling with anxiety today, so that hindered my work on this chapter. So all in all, a really painful one to write...but here it is at last. I'll still be keeping to a schedule of at least weekly updates, but I'll have to see what days work best for me. I'm finally at home on break, done with all the moving madness (the reason for the shit week), so I should be able to get back into my groove real soon.

Also, special thanks to Concerned Reader. I had your review in my email inbox, and every time I wanted to smash my face on the keyboard repeatedly, I opened your review and it gave me life.

Chapter 11. The Rescue

MK stared at the pallor of her skin as she dangled her legs over the precipice high up on the Hollow, basking in the sun and watching a now fully-healed Dagda wheel his grackle with Amianth's in the sky above. She felt herself soaking in the searing warmth, willing it to reach the heaviness that had set itself in her bones in the several days since her Boggan patient died.

Lately, her sleep had been filled with darkness, and in several dreams, she found herself wandering and lost in the shadowed, twisting corridors of the Hollow, as she pursued the miserable cries of far-off Boggans calling for her to help them. Whenever she got closer to the voice, a new maze of hallways suddenly appeared before her, and the pleas became even farther than ever. In some of them, she would find an end to the winding tunnels, but instead of a patient at the end, the ground vanished into a broiling, poisonous pit, and this time, no one was there to stop her falling. MK always awoke from these feeling as though she hadn't slept at all, and instead had run several miles in a state of delirium.

Her eyes drooped, even in the broad daylight. Occasionally, the shadow of Dagda's or Amianth's grackle would sweep over her, making her jolt back to life. She would find the constant twitching amusing, if only she weren't so damn tired. The Boggans had thus far never treated her with unkindness, but the stress of being a prisoner still pressed down on MK's mind. Living in a constant state of anxiety about saying the wrong thing and making someone snap set MK's nerves aflame, and now they were wearing down to embers. She swallowed the lump that clamped in her throat. This was not supposed to be her life anymore. She'd chosen to walk away from all the suffering and sadness, only to find herself right back where she had started.

Oblivious to her musings, the young Boggans swooped in and leaped from the backs of their grackles and onto the ledge where MK sat. MK shook the dreary thoughts from her mind and smiled up at them.

"Feeling good?" she asked Dagda.

He bobbed his head, the grin stretching clear across his face as he punched the air. "It's so great to fly again!"

Amianth rolled her eyes. "Yeah, just don't go falling off again."

Dagda shoved his friend. "Why do you always have to bring that up? It was one time."

The other Boggan snickered. "It was one hilarious time," she said, ducking under a swipe of Dagda's fist.

"How about you, MK? You don't look too happy." Dagda peered down at her, and MK blinked, surprised that he had managed to pick up on her internal distress. She must have been doing a worse job of concealing it than she thought.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just…just a bit tired," MK replied, trying to open her eyes wider to hide the drooping of her lids.

Dagda scrutinized her. "Okay…" He didn't appear convinced, but he dropped the subject and ducked into the shade of the Hollow, Amianth close on his heels.

MK scooted back and curled up against the wall. She squinted at the landscape of Wrathwood, glowing bright in the afternoon sun as it reflected every ray. How long, she wondered. How long would she be trapped here? A pang of regret filled her for forcing Nod not to rescue her. He had come into the den of his enemies alone, determined to find her. MK didn't need him to come sweeping in on a white horse, but the fact that he put his life on the line for her sent a tingle through her chest. She spent so much of her time taking care of others, and it had been months since anyone had done the same for her—not since her mom had died. Aside from the party, Nod had actually been doing a pretty good job of watching out for her, and MK found herself wanting to sit next to him and eat honey cakes at sundown again and not have to worry about much at all.

She was tempted to stay outside for hours, but the threat of dehydration and sunburn forced her indoors not long after the Boggans. MK sat in silence, listening to them chatter over lunch. Dagda gave her a stare of concern every time she took too long of a pause to respond to a question or a joke, but didn't say anything. However, MK could see the cogs turning in his head. He was planning something, and she wasn't entirely certain if she would end up liking it.

"Let's do another lesson," she announced the instant they finished eating, to distract him from his thoughts.

The gears ceased their turning as his eyes lit up in excitement. MK pulled a few bits of tattered cloth and the needle and thread she consistently borrowed from the Boggans.

"So you've already got the basics of wrapping arrow wounds and cleaning. Those are comparatively pretty easy. This one isn't." MK strung the curved needle, which she had asked Amianth to find for her once she realized that she might have to be stitching more wounds in the future. "I'm going to show you a simple interrupted stitch," she began. "And I want you to practice this often so that you've got the technique down pat."

Amianth sat off to the side, watching intently as MK walked Dagda through the steps, teaching him the different types of knots, what kinds of needles were most appropriate for what situation, and then fiercely quizzing him about what he'd just learned.

The lesson continued until MK was satisfied that Dagda would retain the technique. "Be sure to practice, though," she warned him. "The precision and speed takes time and work."

Dagda hummed in acknowledgement as he examined his handiwork. "Hey, MK," he said. "Want to go with us next time we go to the Neutral to get your food?"

Amianth, who had been dozing on the side, long since bored of the lesson, twitched awake. "Did the Chief say that's allowed?"

Dagda rolled his eyes at her. "Come on, Ami. He's not even going to notice."

MK held her hands up. "Whoa, the last thing I want to do is get on his bad side by going behind his back. He might forgive you two, but I still feel like I'm on thin ice." Or rather, she felt like she had finally gotten off the thin ice and wasn't interested in sliding back on.

"Fine, I'll ask him first," Dagda drawled.

"Why do you even want to take her?" Amianth asked.

The question made MK pause. Why indeed? She watched Dagda, waiting for his answer.

"I think being cooped up is making her sick," said Dagda, doing his best to look nonchalant as he fiddled with the knots he'd made in his practice stitches. "When I was spending days in bed, I was going crazy. I can't imagine how MK must feel. She hasn't left the Hollow all this time."

"We can just fly her around outside," retorted Amianth.

Dagda frowned and shook his head. "No, she…" he pondered how to explain himself, "she needs to see something green—something alive. And not like our kind of alive."

MK's eyes widened at his unexpected perceptiveness. She took a moment to reevaluate her understanding of Dagda. He could seem innocent at times, but for the first time, it occurred to her that he noticed things and thought hard about them. It explained how much he had thought through his relationship with his father.

"I guess…" Amianth said, turning to judge MK's reaction.

With the two Boggans staring at her and waiting for a response, MK stammered, "I-I think that would be great, as long as it's okay with Mandrake." After their conversation at the Blight pit, MK hoped that she could anticipate some leniency on the part of the Boggan chief. She had to admit, the prospect of seeing verdure and smelling fresh grass and flowers helped lift the sagging cloud of gloom that had been hanging above her.

"Good," Dagda said, with an edge of determination. "Don't worry, MK. I'll make sure he says yes. It's only fair."

Dagda paced outside of his dad's meeting room, straining to overhear the discussion going on inside, but the inhabitants' tones were too low for him to catch anything coherent. He'd noticed MK's low mood even before the battle that killed Carcen. Her melancholy had only nosedived after that, and Dagda had conjectured that it had something to do with being cooped up in a world she didn't belong in. Something about how hard she worked to choose her words carefully told him that she was constantly afraid and on edge, so he strove to make sure she felt safe.

At this point, after all the days she had spent with them, Dagda failed to see how she could possibly betray them, and in any case, she didn't really owe them anything in the first place.

He rubbed his knuckles together and bit his lip, turning to check the door for any sign of movement, whether real or imagined. It was so hard to get his dad alone, and when Dagda did manage it, Mandrake was often too exhausted too be particularly engaging. Dagda fixated on the hope that flashed through MK's eyes when he made his promise, and that image in his mind helped keep his nerves in check.

Finally, Hortensia and the other generals strode out of the door. Hortensia gave Dagda sidelong glance as she walked past, her subtle, secretive smile creeping onto her face. He wondered if she had already made some freakishly accurate deduction about his reasons for standing right outside the meeting room for so long.

Once he was sure everyone else had left the room, Dagda pushed the door flap aside and ducked into the room and nearly running into his dad.

"Dagda." Mandrake seemed surprised to see him there.

"Dad, can I…can I, um, talk to you?"

Mandrake gestured for him to come farther into the room. "Is there something wrong?"

Well, since that's the first thing you ask, said a sarcastic voice in his head. Dagda checked that line of thought, reminding himself that this particular discussion was supposed to be about MK, not him.

"No. Nothing's wrong. I just had something to ask." When his dad watched him expectantly, Dagda continued. "I wanted to take MK to the Neutral Territories," he said in a rush as he picked at a fingernail.

Mandrake's eyes narrowed. "Why?" he asked, dragging out the word.

"I don't think she's feeling well, being trapped here," Dagda said. "She's always with me and Ami, so I see her all the time, and she's been going downhill for a while." A glimmer of hope came to him when his father looked down, seeming to consider his words. "MK isn't a Jinn, but she's not like us either. I think being in Wrathwood makes her sad."

"She's a creature of life," his father agreed.

"Besides, she's not just a prisoner, is she? She's always helping us and trying to do the right thing, even if it sometimes hurts her," Dagda continued. "We should help her back."

Mandrake leaned back, observing him. Dagda had no idea what emotions he was wearing on his face, but he hoped they were the right ones. He had never been good at the whole concealment thing. "You're very concerned with her well-being," his dad commented.

"So are you," Dagda shot back without thinking.

His father opened his mouth and then closed it again, surprise evident in his expression.

A thought crossed Dagda's mind, and he mulled it over for a moment before deciding to test his luck. "Her fire is going out," he said.

Mandrake jolted, as though he'd been struck, and he turned to Dagda sharply. "What?"

Dagda could feel his heart pounding in his chest, whether from triumph or anxiety, he did not know, but he had irrevocably gotten his dad's attention there. "You compared her to Mom once. Why wouldn't you be concerned?"

"How do you know that?" It was all his dad could manage to say.

"She heard you, that one time," Dagda confessed. "She didn't know what it meant, and we didn't tell her."

"I told her," his father interjected, and it was Dagda's turn to reel in surprise. "After Carcen died."

"That bothered her a lot. It made her even worse." Dagda leaned against the large stone table nearby and chewed on his lip. "If she reminds you of Mom so much, shouldn't we be taking better care of her?"

Based on the weary way his father was leaning on his staff, Dagda could tell how much he wanted to escape that conversation. But it had been such a relief to talk about his feelings and frustrations with MK, who never seemed to tell him what he was supposed to do or what responsibilities he had. Dagda found himself wanting his dad to say more, to say something.

"If you really care so much, shouldn't you show it?" Was he talking about MK, or was he talking about himself? At this point, Dagda didn't know. He struggled to conceal the fact that he was breathing hard. "You always do stuff like this. It doesn't matter if you care about someone if they never get to know about it."

His father gave him a pointed look. "Is this still just about MK?"

The words fizzled out on Dagda's tongue, and he turned away impetuously.

"Son…"

"Why did you go?" Dagda asked, voice coming out raspy. "Because of that, a whole bunch of Boggans got hurt, Carcen died, and because of that, MK is feeling worse than ever!" He glared at his dad. "And before the Solstice too? Why? For what? What did that do for us? What if you got hurt? What would that do?"

He leaped back onto his feet. "I don't care about sending them a message or revenge or whatever. I don't care! If it was you that got hurt or you that died, where does that leave me?" Hot breaths surged from his mouth, burning with the pent up frustration. "I always thought if we were going to fight for something and die for something, it has to be worth it. That wasn't worth it!"

Mandrake approached, and Dagda took a step back, bumping into the table. "You were worried," his father said in a soft voice. Dagda fought off the boiling tears that threatened to spring up. Mandrake noticed his defensive posture and paused, and the two of them stood in front of each other in uncomfortable silence, as though waiting for one of them to do something.

"I'm sorry," his father said. Mandrake reached forward, hesitating for a moment, before adjusting Dagda's askew rat skull helmet and brushing a thumb across his forehead. The gesture took Dagda back to his childhood, when his dad would soothe him as he squalled until he fell asleep.

Before Dagda could react, his father pulled away, looking uncertain. It was a strange image for someone who was normally commanding enough to silence a room just by walking in.

"You can take MK to the Neutral Territories. You're right, I think it would help her," Mandrake said, gaze sweeping over the ground as he walked away.

After he left the room, Dagda sighed. His triumph at fulfilling his promise to MK churned with his cloudy disappointment at almost, but not quite, making a breakthrough with his dad. "At least he knows how I feel now," Dagda muttered, kicking a pebble and listening to it thud across the floor in the empty room. Once he was sure his dad had gone far enough that they wouldn't have an awkward run-in outside, Dagda padded back into the hallway to tell his friends the good news and hoped an excursion to the Neutrals would help cheer him up.

Nod had to resist the urge to punch the smirk off Estralla's face as she pulled her bird up ahead of him and crossed the finish line first. He'd obediently thrown every race Bufo asked him too—though the toad was fair enough and smart enough to let him win a few too. He really wasn't eager to get mugged by Bufo's henchman again, especially not after having to spend several days struggling to hide his bruises from his watchful mother.

"Hey, great race Nod. Almost had it," Estralla sang at him as she landed her bird in front of his.

He snorted in response, whipping his gloves off and swatting one of them in her bird's face so that it bucked backward with a screech, nearly throwing its rider.

"Wow, such a stick in the mud," the marigold groused. She flicked the reigns and her bird snapped its beak at Nod.

"Get outta my face already," Nod said.

"Or you'll wha—" Estralla's taunt turned into a yelp as Nod ducked behind her bird and prodded its bottom with a thorn. The bird surged into the air, twisting in irritation, and by the time it landed, Estralla was dangling by her reigns over the front of the bird's face.

Nod leaped onto his own mount and fluttered away, cackling. "Till next time, ya grub," he called back as he made his escape.

He found his way to a hollowed out stump where people of all sorts gathered to eat and drink. Nod sat down with a cup of strong nectar and sipped it as he reclined in the shade, watching the motley crowd come and go.

A glimmer of iridescent wings caught his eye, and Nod launched into a sitting position as he recognized the familiar Boggan he'd seen before. He retreated into the shelter of some reeds and watched her as she scanned the area.

With a shifting gaze, Nod checked for other Boggans before pacing out into the sunlight to follow her. He wound his way through the crowd, trying to keep a casual distance without losing sight of her. The Boggan led him all the way to the edge of a clearing, where a flock of birds had settled, waiting for their riders to finish their business.

The Boggan made her way over to a pair of grackles, and Nod's eyes widened. She was accompanied by another Boggan, which was perfectly ordinary, but beside her companion was someone Nod never imagined he would see in such a relaxed setting for a long time.

MK stood in the shadow of the grackle, staring up at the sky with a look of serenity. For a moment, all Nod could do was watch her take in her surroundings. The way she looked around, she was more than just seeing, but drinking in the sights and letting them replenish her. Nod had missed that visage of wonder, and he was filled with the certainty that she hadn't been getting much of it when she was imprisoned in Wrathwood.

Confusion sank in soon after. What was she doing here in the Neutrals, not looking much like a prisoner at all, but more like a guest on a field trip? The trio began to walk in his direction, so Nod pulled back into the bushes and pretended to be very interested in some jewelry some Jinn was selling. He eyed MK as she walked past, too entranced by the change of scene to see him.

The Jinn hawking his wares was still in the middle of a sentence when Nod abandoned his cover and pursued, ignoring the indignant complaint that followed him.

To his surprise, MK seemed to be enjoying herself in the company of the Boggans, laughing at something one of them said as she scarfed down the variety of food that was set down in front of her. Nod growled under his breath. She was so close, but if he jumped in and tried to rescue her out of nowhere, passersby would help the Boggans instead of him, thinking he was attacking them. He had to wait until they were in a more secluded environment.

He felt a bit creepy, watching them enjoy themselves from afar while impatience churned inside him. But there was no better chance to save MK, and whatever promises he'd made her before were null and void now that she was out of the Wrathwood and he was no longer a Leafman.

Nod stalked them all afternoon, feeling increasingly like a weirdo and cursing the crowds of the Neutral Territories. Why did there have to be so many damn people everywhere? The shadows stretched out on the ground, and MK and the Boggans were making their way back to the flight grounds. His window of opportunity narrowed as the sun dipped closer to the horizon, and Nod clenched his jaw. It was now or never. He glanced up and saw his sparrow chirping on a branch above him. Nod leaned forward, bracing himself against the dirt before springing out of the brush.

"Let her go!" he shouted, barreling into the female Boggan and shoving her to the ground.

"Nod?" MK's eyes went wide with shock at the sight of him.

"Hey!" the other Boggan snarled, charging toward him and brandishing a bone club. Nod tucked and rolled under the swipe and kicked him in the chest. It wasn't a hard kick, but the Boggan yelped in pain from the blow, stumbling back and clutching his right side.

"Dagda!"

Nod felt something slam into him from behind, sending him tumbling. The female Boggan hissed at him, raising a knife above her head. As the knife came down, his hand whipped up, snatching her wrist. With a wrenching twist, he threw her from him and vaulted to his feet, the knife now in his possession.

The sounds of alarmed shouting from the other people in the clearing rang in his ears, signaling that he was running out of time.

"Get back to the Hollow," the female shouted to the other, who dragged MK back to his grackle.

"No!" Nod launched forward, but the female Boggan barred his passage, snarling. He swiped at her with the knife, with her dancing out of the way each time. Nod feinted a chop, but dove down instead, sweeping her feet out from underneath her with a leg. Before she could jump back up, he pinned her, raising the knife.

"Stop it!" Nod was once again knocked onto his back, and without seeing, he kicked at whoever was on top of him. A familiar cry pierced his ears, and he focused his vision, realizing in horror that it was MK who had pushed him away.

The force of the kick send her stumbling back, and she fell backward hard, not ready for the fall. Nod heard her gasp as her head struck the ground, sending the breath from her lungs. MK lay still where she fell, blood seeping out from under her hair.

The Boggans froze, staring in shock, looking from her back to him. Nod, feeling his panic threatening to erupt, whistled, running toward MK's prone body. The Boggans lurched back into action at his sudden movements, but his sparrow swooped down and grabbed him, with MK dangling in his arms and carried him away.

The sparrow flipped him and his unconscious passenger up and caught them on his back, Nod yelping as he tried to prevent MK from getting jostled from the rough maneuver. The shrieking of the grackles told him that the Boggans were in hot pursuit.

He leaned forward on his bird, taking up his racing stance, while securing MK in one arm. The grackles were big and fast, but Nod knew he was the better flier. He rocketed toward the trees, hoping to use the sparrow's agility to gain an advantage.

The grackles claws were nearly on top of them before Nod broke through the undergrowth, sending his pursuers scattering above the canopies. He wove through the branches, glancing back to see if they continued to follow him, but as he approached the borderlands, they seemed to reconsider, not wanting to become targets of Leafman border guards.

Nod looked down as MK shifted, groaning in his arms. He blew out a sigh of relief, his arms wobbly as the adrenaline faded. He pulled the sparrow around, making his way back to the Bower.

Chapter 12 comes out some time next week. Not sure when yet. Shasdfjkadsj sorry it's been a rough couple weeks. Fun at some parts, but really really rough. I'm pretty decked. Thanks for all your support. It honestly really gives me life.