So there's a fun story about this chapter. It was almost done, but the night I was a couple hundred words from finishing a spider descended from my ceiling, scared the everliving shizzle out of me, and I spent the next few days fumigating my apartment and praying to every deity I've ever heard of. Good times. Here's the kicker: I was writing this chapter when it happened. I got up to blow out a candle, and then BAM. Hell on eight legs. I couldn't touch this again for almost a week, out of the irrational fear that these words somehow attracted the beast. So if any of you have brilliant tips for permanently deterring spiders, please let me know. I can't take many more heart palpitations like this. And with that lovely intro, let's get into the chapter!

And thank you wildhorses1492 for the lovely reviews!

Chapter 21

I had to do it. I had to do it. No, I can't go back.

Perhaps if Mira repeats it enough, she'll believe it.

She shoulders her sack and trudges on through the early morning mists, Cair Paravel shrinking ever smaller behind her. The words she left for Suncloud and Caspian in those two crisp envelopes on the nightstand ring through her mind, mocking her. Mira shouldn't be running away again with just a note. It's a bit cruel, and she knows it. Yet, no matter the echo of her words or the sharp stabs of guilt in her chest, she can't turn around and take it back. Mira wishes she could, that she could stop herself from hurting Caspian and Suncloud yet again. They worried for four years, and here she is giving them cause to worry again.

But all her resolve needs is the echo of a gunshot from the past and her legs pump ever faster, taking her away from the people she loves.

Loves? When did she start loving them? Mira shakes her head, whipping it from side to side in the hopes of uprooting the strange warmth in her chest when she thinks of them. Suncloud, who was the first to make her feel at home in a strange new place, who taught her about Narnia, who lifted her spirits when she let him. Suncloud is the closest thing to a brother she's ever had. And Caspian, the boy prince who became a young man before her very eyes. He comforted her, trusted her, and she trusted him more than any other. She can't quite call him brother, because it's another feeling entirely. Mira refuses to name it, can't stand to explore it. It twists in her stomach when her self-control slips.

Mira realizes with a start that her cheeks are wet, and not from the morning dew. She swipes at her eyes with something akin to anger. When she'd found Leila, she'd sworn never to get close to anyone again. And now here she is, breaking her own rule. Just as Leila would have been better off never knowing her, so too would Caspian and Suncloud have been happier. Mira reminds herself of her best friend, forces her mind to replay that gunshot over and over until she's outright sprinting through the forest, damp leaves smacking her face. They'll be better without her, and in time they'll forget all about her. She never should have told either of them anything.

Mira still wants to go back.

Even when she crests a hill and Cair Paravel is no longer visible through the trees, she actually thinks she could. Lion, leaving was supposed to be so much easier than this. Stumbling through the forest was supposed to feel like freedom. Exile was supposed to be a relief, not this strange burden. Is her resolve really so weak?

It's better this way. Mira has to believe that.

Her feet falter in their flight, and she can't help but turn around. Just one last look, she promises herself. Just one.

The Cair pops back into sight when she goes back to the height of the hill. Mira stumbles, catches herself against a tree. It's good she left when she did.

A ship is sailing toward Cair Paravel, with royal purple sails and what looks like a dragon's head for the bow. King Caspian is close indeed, and she was lucky to leave when she did. Mira truly couldn't have waited another hour. If she had, that would've been the end of it and she never would've gotten away. They can't help her, and she has to keep them from trying. They'll only get hurt from a burden that isn't theirs. It's hers, and she can't return to them until she can shoulder it on her own. It wouldn't be fair of her to stay.

That thought turns Mira around and pushes her along her way. Perhaps she shouldn't run, perhaps she should be saving her strength. But no, with Caspian so close it's only a matter of time before her notes are found. He may come after her - in fact, she's almost certain he will. Suncloud will help, and if she can't cover enough distance they'll catch her.

Mira ignores the burning in her lungs as she races through the foliage, barely noticing the small cuts that the branches bestow on her for her carelessness. This kind of running is so different from the kind she's used to, but the heavy tightness in her chest is almost the same. She still feels the same pangs in her heart, the same desperation hurling her forward. Yet, Mira doesn't quite feel as if it's her life on the line. No, this kind of running is not just for her - it's for them too. It's to protect them from her memories, from the things she knows would pain them if they knew. She can't do that to Suncloud, not after he welcomed her and befriended her with no reservations at all. And she can't do that to Caspian, because she saw the pain he tried to hide when she blubbered out her troubles on the floor. Her agony hurt him, and she can't do that to him again. She won't. It would be horribly selfish.

Mira only slows when the sun is fully above the horizon.

Mira speeds on the way to the thrift store. It's a stormy Saturday, but Leila never misses her weekend treasure hunting sprees, as she calls them. She'll be there.

Mira prays to Aslan that he won't be there too, but she knows better than to hope. He's thorough; if he hasn't figured out Leila's schedule by now, he's being uncommonly lazy.

Whipping into the nearest parking space, Mira reminds herself that she can't be afraid of him anymore. She's here to help Leila, to distract him. She can't run this time. I am not afraid. I can't be. Mira walks inside, cringing at the little tingle of that bell at the door. It's always sounded cheery, but today Mira doesn't exactly want to announce her presence.

Disappearing into the aisles of strange knick-knacks organized by color feels easy and painfully familiar. It's strange, being in here without Leila. She'd love those matching polar bear figurines - one's ear is missing and the other's golden tail is chipping, but Leila always had a thing for imperfect pieces. Said it gave them character. Mira never quite understood the appeal of a broken trinket, especially since she was sort of broken herself. She always thought they were in the thrift store precisely because they were broken and no one wanted them. But then Leila did, so it was a strangely beautiful thing.

Mira finds her easily, in the aisle with the reds. Mira's stomach twists just at the sight of Leila - she's thinner, paler, with dark rims under her eyes. She's admiring a chipped vase, turning it this way and that in the light, smiling slightly to herself. There's no doubt that vase has found a home, though Mira wonders how Leila has room for even one more beautiful piece of junk. A smile of her own starts tugging at Mira's lips, but then the moment is stolen.

He's here. She'd recognize him anywhere.

Leila seems to be oblivious, caught up in inspecting the red vase. But Mira sees him, sees the familiar slouch of his back, the hunt of his soldiers, the oily, unwashed blond curls. He's mere feet away.

What to do, what to do...what can she do? Mira's heart stutters against her ribs as she tries to think of something, anything.

His eyes meet hers. Well, that's something.

Mira bats away the memory, relishing in the ringing of her left ear from the hit. Her lungs feel afire, in desperate need of the oxygen she's been too busy running to provide. But now that Cair Paravel is well behind her, lost to the dense forest, Mira feels safe enough to slow to a walk. Her body gulps in greedy, desperate breaths of air, and she grabs at her side in an attempt to knead away the stinging under her ribs.

Distantly, the sound of fanfare rises over the trees. Now the whole of Cair Paravel and its surrounding city knows what Mira is running from - Caspian has returned. Perhaps his boots haven't stepped onto the dock yet, but he's here. He's here and oh Lion, why isn't she running?

Mira's side still hurts terribly. The stinging has given way to a knife-like stabbing in her lungs, the sort of stabbing that isn't so easy to breathe through. But she hasn't got the time for this, she simply must start moving. Anything but this slow, lopsided stumble that tells her she should've trained much more vigorously for this moment. She's not even five miles away from the Cair, not even half that, and already her body is rebelling? How can she hope to make it to Storminess Head now?

Deep breaths, she must take deep breaths. But they hurt, and Mira doesn't want to. Just then, the fanfare reaches a crescendo, echoing through the forest and kicking Mira's heart into a frenzy. Her legs shake, but she finds the energy she was lacking. Adrenaline drives her now, adrenaline coached by fear and something like desperation. Mira wishes she didn't feel desperate to get away, even as her legs start propelling her onward once more. She's running from friends who only want to help. They don't want to hurt her, and it's not their fault that she can't stand the thinly veiled curiosity. Just the same, she can't stand it, those lurking questions. Mira doesn't like feeling obligated to trust them, however pure their intentions.

And so she runs.

Bates reemerges from his room with a backpack stuffed rather full from the little Miranda can see. She refuses to think about what's in there, because she knows that if she does she'll want nothing more than to end him with her own two hands again, and that's not what Aslan wants. She needs to give the Lion a chance to show her another way.

Whatever Bates has in that backpack, it's what he came here for; he leaves almost immediately, turning the lock with a loud click that, at the moment, is the most beautiful sound in the world to Miranda's ears. She sags in relief and immediately regrets it when she crunches up against a bag with some old food in it. Any other time she'd squeal in disgust at the wet squelching sound and feel of it against her shoulder, but Bates isn't far enough away for that luxury. She waits until she hears the car drive away down the road, until she can't hear even the screech of the tires turning a corner, and only then does she emerge from her rather unpleasant hiding place.

Thank Aslan that old food was in a bag.

Miranda shakes herself off and tries not to think about the smell now clinging to her. That's not her main concern right now, though she almost wishes it were. Awful as the smell is, thinking about going back into that room is worse, so much worse.

She was just working up the nerve to go in there when he showed up, too. Now it'll be even more difficult to stomach than before, because now she's seen him go in there and it won't be easy to keep her mind from fooling her into thinking he's still there, never mind that she saw him leave.

"For Leila now, come on," she mutters, pinching her arm in a marginally successful attempt to ground herself. It jolts one of the memories away, but there are still so many left banging at the doors as she inches along toward that hallway.

She takes her first steps in between the narrow walls and instantly regrets it.

Mira runs until she collapses. She walks after that, as fast as she can, and only stops for the sunset. Her back aches from her pack, and her stomach's been grumbling for most of the day for want of food. Regardless, Mira can't quite bring herself to settle down for a few hours until a dense fog rolls in. It's the sort of fog that you can't see your hand in if you hold it right out in front of you, the sort anyone can get lost in. Mira thanks Aslan in a whisper. Tonight, she wants nothing more than to be lost.

In the fog, she can be a nobody.

She finds a tree with creaky branches that look like witch fingers to rest under, and it's the safest she's felt in a while. The trunk is almost pleasant against her back, her cloak providing enough of a barrier that the roughness is bearable. The fog wraps around Mira like a cocoon, hiding her from friends and foe alike. Or at least, she imagines it to be so. No one can be out looking for her yet - they'd have found her. She really didn't get that far away.

She'd have heard if they were coming after her, and besides it's far too early. Suncloud might not have even told Caspian she was here yet, though he's definitely read her note. Caspian is surely wrapped up in all sorts of celebrations for his safe return, and once all that's passed he'll have plenty of state matters to keep him busy. But even so, Mira shivers against her witching tree. Once he knows she's in Narnia, she has no doubt he will try to find her, no matter that she explicitly asked him not to. If he's been as worried as Suncloud said, he won't be able to help himself.

Mira chews on the inside of her cheek and wraps her cloak tighter around her shoulders, the metallic taste of blood thick on her tongue. If Caspian did find her, she does trust that he'd leave her alone once she explained herself to him. If she could convince him she'd be better off on her own, Caspian would leave her without a fight. But oh, she doesn't want to explain, because the sort of explaining she'd need to do would be far more involved than she's prepared for. She left specifically to avoid telling anyone what happened with...

"Leila," Mira whispers into the night. "Her name was Leila. And she loved to draw."

She kept so tight a lid on her secrets at Cair Paravel that now Mira is terrified of forgetting the girl who was her best friend. Saying her name is soothing, almost like a promise that she can never be forgotten.

Her eyes were brown. Her hair was short, pixie short and black as midnight. She always had the look of an imp, and she could always be trusted to make Mira smile when she wanted to cry. She never deserved to die.

'Do something Aslan,' she begs silently with the first of her welling tears trickling down her cheeks. 'Please.'

She inches closer and tries to think of a way to lure him out without being caught herself. Leila could need her help getting out, and Miranda has to be sure she's there to give it. Inching along carefully, Miranda winds up with her ear pressed against the splintering wooden wall, hoping she hears something that gives her an opening to create a distraction.

The only thing she can hear is muffled screams and cries. It's almost exactly like what she dreamed of.

Any other time, this would break her. But right now, she simply cannot afford to break, and Leila can't afford it either. There will be another time to mourn this, but for now she has to pull herself together.

She gets a small idea then, a small and tiny idea that maybe might work. It's ridiculously simple and kind of stupid…and oh to hell with it, for the moment it's all she has!

Miranda sneaks to the opposite side of the building, finds herself a nice stone, and hurls it through the window as hard as she can. The resulting yells and curses are really quite satisfying - she likes thinking she's pained him even just with a stone's throw.

In the same moment all these thoughts are rushing through her head, Miranda is rushing back to her original side, and she makes it past the door just as it's thrown open. Freezing with her heart in her throat, Miranda waits for the inevitable. She waits, and waits, and only when she hears the loud strings of swearing getting quieter does she realize he's not seen her and now the door is wide open. All she has to do is go inside.

She throws one more stone for good measure before she does, just to keep him busy looking in the woods for the culprit. Then she's inside and Leila's just a room away. That must be her crying.

Miranda can't think as she bolts to find her best friend, barely notices the rough floor under her feet that's rotting in places or the stale and musty smell of long-forgotten places in the air or the tattered sofa leaning on one side. And when she finds her, when she sees her with torn clothes and bloodied skin and tear trails on her cheeks, for a moment she's too shocked to move.

But when Leila groans and shifts Miranda comes to her senses again. Wrapping her in the only blanket she can find, a ratty and tattered thing, Miranda picks up her friend and runs outside again. Bates could be back any moment, and they need to get away now, while they can.

A gun clicks by her ear. Too late.

Mira scrambles to her feet and takes off again, flailing her arms through the fog in a mad attempt to swipe it away. It seems thicker than ever, and now she could swear there are shapes in it, ghosts haunting her in her flight.

She never should have left. She should have been the bait long before she realized what Leila would suffer for associating with her. She should have killed him when she had the chance, when he was nothing but a bloody pulp beneath her.

A scream pulls at her throat, but Mira chokes it back. An awful gagging sound echoes back at her, laughing at her frenzy. No no, she can't scream now. Why run if she's going to scream and let the whole world know where she is?

Something hard slams against her foot, and Mira goes down hard on her hands and knees. A myriad of twigs and stones cut into her palms, tearing a cry from her unwilling lips. Dirt is forced into the small cuts, and she swears. Yet on some strange level, Mira's grateful for the pain. It grounds her. With her hands burning from the dirty wounds, she can keep her mind focused on her one goal - escape. Lion, she's got to get out of here. Fog or no, it's better to be lost among the creatures of the night than to stay leaning against a witching tree. That tree can't protect her, and she was foolish to wish it would.

Nothing can.

The days pass easier once Mira's out of the forest and into the foothills. She feels safer, putting that ever-growing distance between herself and Cair Paravel. No one comes after her, thank the Lion. She's on her own.

Once she's past the foothills, it's back into the forest, but now the mountains loom ahead. Archenland's border isn't too far now. Mira pulls the hood of her cloak closer to her face and presses on. The idea of being beyond Narnia's border feels...safe. It feels relieving, as if a massive weight is slowly lifting off her chest. She needs this, oh she needs the solitude. No one will find her in the Southern Mountains.

Weeks after leaving the Cair, Mira finally comes to Stormness Head. It's a good deal cooler here in the mountains, but she finds she doesn't mind. She's alone at last and for good, and nothing else matters.

And yet, that first sunrise when she goes to bed (she's still not keen on sleeping when the world is dark) brings her a strange dream, an unwelcome dream.

She hates it, but she dreams of Caspian.

There we go, done at last. How do you guys think Stormness Head will work out for Mira?

If you've got a sec, do leave a review! :)