Posted 2024-06-30; Beta'd by Eeyorefan12

With the baby already wrapped against his chest, Edward buckled Bella into the harness and climbed up behind her. She passed out or slept in sporadic spurts, wrenched awake by occasional jolts of movement from the creature beneath them. The hungry dragons clambered through the icy terrain which slowly altered from nearly treeless mountains to the southern scraggly forests of no-man's land.

Bella was grateful to have Edward's strong arm around her, too exhausted to ask why the three dragons were whiffling through the snow under a large pine. When they began munching on something, she breathed a sigh of relief. At least they'd have energy to carry them home. They dismounted, Edward changing the baby's makeshift diaper before helping Bella relieve herself.

She leaned against Demia, nursing their daughter while Edward and Jasper kept watch.

"I'll scout ahead tonight," Jasper said. "Hopefully no one thinks I'm more than a local patrol."

Edward gave a grim nod.

"Why aren't we just going home?" Bella asked, thinking of Esme and the comfort of their own bed.

"We don't know if it's safe," Edward said. "Our closest neighbor tried to kill us. You and Stolos have told us Mr. Othonos isn't to be trusted, and if we can't rely upon him, we don't know who else is compromised."

"It can't be everyone." The desire for home was almost painful.

"It doesn't have to be everyone," Edward said. "It only needs to be one. At a minimum, we have to know what we're walking into."

"The northerners have used the Kaethe to do their work before, that and sent agents in the guise of merchants. That they've corrupted a sherooz"—Jasper shook his head—"it's easier for them to ask others to find you, rather than directly come after us. It's safe to assume they'll plan on us heading home."

Bella suppressed the urge to weep. Jasper was right. There was no way she was going to risk being put back in Kolash, especially after what they'd done to the sherooz.

"If we don't see you within two days," Edward said quietly, "we'll assume—"

Jasper nodded, unhooking his dragon's carry bags and giving them to Edward.

"You'll need something." Edward reached into the bag.

"No. If I'm caught, supplies will raise too many suspicions. Besides, it'll be easy enough to find things where I'll be going."

The brothers embraced briefly before Jasper slipped away, his dragon moving smoothly through the trees.

Working quietly, Edward cut off low-hanging tree boughs, using them to fashion first a bed and then a small lean-to for them to shelter under. Horizontal for the first time in days, Bella slept, only waking to meet her and the baby's most basic needs.

At each rousing, Edward appeared more distant than the last, grimly keeping watch, his rifle in his lap. When she asked him to sleep, he shook his head. "I'm fine. Rest. You need it."

Sabellians needed less sleep than humans, she knew, but they needed some. When had he last slept? She eyed the still-healing cuts and bruises on his face—some of which looked new. She knew only the barest details about her rescue, only that they'd extracted enough information from Stolos to navigate the complex, but the full story—if she really wanted to hear it—would have to wait for another time.

Truthfully, she was too exhausted even to argue with Edward about who needed more rest, turning back to the make-shift bed. In the dim light, she studied her infant's trusting face again, the sweetheart shape reminiscent of Esme's, the bud-like lips more like Rose's. The baby didn't open her eyes often, but when she did, they were a deep slate blue—just like her father's. If there was anything of Bella in her, it wasn't to be seen yet, and she wondered again what truth there was to the sherooz's claims.

Not that it mattered. The child was hers—her daughter. The genetics were irrelevant.

Demia and the other dragon stayed close to the trio, curling their warm bodies around the little lean-to. Without any more clean cloth to use as pads for herself or diapers for the baby, Bella stripped the blanket that served as her covers into pieces. Alice's coat, still with her, kept most of her warm, but her legs began to tingle and sting when exposed to the elements. They needed to find better shelter soon.

On the second night, Bella finally felt rested enough to remain upright beyond feeding the baby—as yet without a name, though she and Edward had already decided upon one months before. It was ill luck to speak it until the amphidromia—the naming ceremony.

"Do you need something?" Edward whispered as she sat beside him.

"Just you."

"You'll get cold out here."

She inched closer. "I keep hoping you'll let me keep watch and get some sleep."

"I'll be fine. We're too close to the Kaethe for me to sleep."

Bella nodded, suppressing her guilty squirm. Somehow, she'd lost sight of Edward's ordeal. His time with the Kaethe had not been benign, and that was before he'd nearly lost his wife and child, then learned of the betrayals of both his lifelong friend and his mentor.

She gently touched his face, recalling her first sight of him in the Kaethe camp.

"They didn't hurt me much." He gave her a soft smile.

But they'd hurt him.

Edward turned back to watching, that or to avoiding conversation. They'd hardly had pause to talk since fleeing Kolash.

"How did you get me out?" she asked. "Or even get inside?"

Edward made a sound between a grunt and a laugh—a very dark one. "Stolos was eager to prove his usefulness once his attempt to poison us failed. He knew a great deal, more than he should have." He paused, shifting his weight. "An oversight I'm grateful for. We knew the rough shape of the building and how well it was guarded. We watched for a day, to confirm what he told us and to figure out their schedules. The sherooz's wing wasn't well-guarded at night so, after we, uh . . . acquired some uniforms, it was easier to slip in and find his office." His voice dipped.

Bella shuddered, knowing the scene they would have found.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she almost whispered.

"You're sor—" He looked away briefly, breathing out slowly before lowering his voice. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I know." It had been a poor choice of words. "But he told me something else before that—she's only ours, Edward."

He tilted his head, a question in his eyes.

"He didn't—I wasn't raped."

"I know. We arrived in time. I told you in the cave, but—"

"No, no, I mean before. On Earth. He told me he was there. He's the one who kidnapped me. He's the one who had me brought to Aristea. He injected me with something to seed me."

Another pucker at his forehead. "An injection," he repeated softly. "But what did you mean, 'she's ours'? Of course she's ours."

"She's only ours. He was experimenting with this method. All the women there were part of experiments. And the women on earth, too, though I'm the only one that survived." Bella tried to think how to explain it. "Something to do with stripping out the human genetics."

Edward looked over at their daughter, his features relaxing. "It doesn't matter, whatever the genetics."

"It doesn't, but I wanted you to know. I've only ever . . . I mean, you're the only man I've . . . been with in that way." She felt inexplicably nervous, telling him all this. Was he being truthful? Did it matter to him?

"Bella?"

She turned to look at him, not reassured by the expression on his face.

Edward reached over and laid a hand on hers. "I want to say that whatever they intended doesn't matter. What they've done doesn't matter. I want to say this, but I can't. Because what they've done does matter." He blew out a breath. "Finding you as we did." Another look away, a swallow. "I nearly killed him. Jasper had to stop me. He had to remind me to tend to you." He shook his head fiercely. "I'm sorry I lost control."

She considered the violence and hurt—physical and emotional—they'd both endured. "You should take your own advice."

When he frowned, she smiled wanly. "You have nothing to apologize for, remember?"

He leaned in and brought their foreheads together, brushing his hand over her hair. "No, we don't, do we?"

"Indeed."

They stayed that way for a moment, Bella feeling her breathing slow as she listened to his. Perhaps it was time to talk of other things rather than dwell on the unhappy and recent past. She considered a more neutral topic. "Jasper'll be back soon?"

"He should be."

Perhaps not so neutral, then. "And . . . if he isn't?"

Edward looked down. "I don't know that it matters. You'll need to go home. It's merely a matter of when. We're still too far away from a safe window."

She furrowed her brow. "We'll both need to—" The realization dawned. Home, as in—

"Earth?"

"If the sherooz was willing to do what he did, and Mr. Othonos is a part of all of this, how many others will be ready to do more?" He stared at the rifle cradled in his arms. "I don't know how to keep you safe here now, Bella. We knew before that the north had agents, but if they've breached the committee leadership, then their influence is . . . I have no idea where it ends. Where in Sabellia—on Aristea—could you be safe?"

Where indeed. It wasn't the location that troubled her as much as the "you".

"You . . . want to send us away?"

"What I want has nothing to do with it. I can't protect you here."

"I don't understand why we wouldn't all go."

He continued gazing into the darkness before them. "I can't ask others to fight while I abandon them, Bella. The sherooz might be dead, but Mr. Othonos is still a threat. Even Stolos is"—Edward swallowed hard and shook his head—"lost to us now. There are others still who've helped them. I don't know how far their reach extends. If you go, I can seek out and eradicate the threat here. If I leave now, my family and everyone else I care about will never be safe."

And how long would it take to eradicate the threat here? Months? Years? Decades?

His hand, already slightly cooler than hers, felt like ice.

"Our time apart will be tempor—" Abruptly, Edward shifted onto his haunches. Get onto Demia, he signed.

Heart in her throat, Bella crawled towards the dragon, mounting her with effort and securing the harness. Belatedly, she realized the cloth tie Edward had used to hold the baby was still with him. Her breathing quickened.

"It's alright," Edward whispered. "It's Jasper."

Even with her improved eyesight, it was a few more seconds before she could make out the figure bobbing towards them atop the lumbering dragon.

Jasper dismounted quietly, rummaging through a cloth bag and handing over two small loaves of bread. He looked as grim as Edward, and Bella ate the stale loaf quickly, sensing whatever news he brought was better heard on a full stomach.

"What did you find?" Edward finally asked.

Jasper ran his hand down his dragon's neck, eyeing Bella. "The Pisma are searching for you."

"Did you find out why?" Edward took the baby from Bella.

"If the marketers heard it right, the north has made an extradition request. You're accused of murder, sister."

The charge wasn't unwarranted, Bella thought, shivering slightly as she recalled the fire jetting from Demia. When she glanced at Edward, his expression was dour.

"They don't know we were there too?"

Jasper shook his head. "You and I haven't been named yet. The two guards we encountered are"—he gave Edward a telling look—"in no condition to testify, so they've no proof we were the ones who freed her or took the sherooz. They believe she was helped by the Kaethe.

"They've offered a significant bounty, and people are looking, I'm afraid. Feelings are running high after all the raids." Jasper pulled a blanket out of the bag, handing it over to Bella, who whispered her thanks.

"That's to hide you, though I'm glad it'll keep you warm too."

Edward looked sharply at his brother. "Where to now?"

"Miss Sarris."

Mounted again, they continued south in spurts, first in the air, then on the ground through the woods, and finally, into the back of Miss Sarris's wagon where Jasper left them, taking the dragons with him. At the last moment, Bella shrugged out of Alice's coat and pressed it into his hands.

"Take it back to her for me," she whispered. "I don't know when I'd be able to do it myself, and it belongs with Alice."

When they emerged under the cover of night hours later, Bella could barely walk, Edward half carrying her through the back door of the apothecary's shop while Irene followed with the baby.

"Quickly," Irene said. She ushered them up a ladder into the loft of her home, handing the infant up to Edward. "I'm sorry it's not more comfortable, but the scouts are making regular sweeps of the area with whifflers. I need to clean the floor before they get here."

The attic floor was a set of open rafters covered in strong-smelling alogo-felt mats and wooden boards. Edward and then Bella sneezed as they crawled into the space, and then the baby did too.

From the half-sized door, Irene passed them woolen balls soaked in—"Sidero extract. Don't breathe in too much of it, Bella, you'll pass out. But a little should be enough to dampen the sneezing." Rapidly, she pointed to the blankets, food, water, clothing, and a chamber pot. "Change quickly and give me your clothes so I can burn them."

Bella and Edward took quick sniffs of the wool. Though subtle, the smell nauseated Bella, recalling to mind the sherooz's office and the cool way he'd explained his carefully-planned violation.

From outside, distant but purposeful male voices called out terse commands.

They disrobed quickly, leaving the balled up items at the door for Irene to retrieve. "I'll be back as soon as it's safe," she whispered. There was a clank downstairs as the metal stove was closed, then a whoosh.

Both wrapped in ill-fitting, borrowed clothing, Bella and Edward huddled together, listening, though Edward's gaze returned frequently to his rifle, propped up in the corner. Bella's nausea persisted and the baby began to fuss. Quickly, Edward checked her diaper while Bella tried to nurse her, but she refused soothing. The voices outside were closer. If there were no infants nearby, the sound of one would be enough to raise suspicions.

She'd be sent back to Kolash. The subtle smell of Sidero grass grew, filling the space, and Bella's fear and nausea rose with it.

Scrunching up her face, the baby arched away from the breast, beginning to mewl.

Maybe gas? Bella tried rubbing her back. No. The twisting continued, a cry emerging.

Edward tried wafting the wool ball in front of her tiny nose, but the cries only grew.

Bella held the baby so that they were face to face, trying to calm herself, praying for her infant to do so too. Her words were barely breaths. "We're safe little one, but if you cry, they'll hear you, and they'll send us back." She stared into her eyes, imagining the peace of the Cullens' home, visualizing the slow rocking movement of the hooked cradle in their room, trying to feel it in herself.

As if feeling the same things, the baby gurgled slightly, her eyes drooping as she fell asleep. Slowly, so as not to make any noise, Bella slipped her into the cradle of her arms, leaning into Edward and focusing on just breathing.

The voices were inside now.

"Goodness, that's quite an energetic whiffler you have." Irene sounded slightly annoyed.

"Sorry, Miss, he's brand new and thinks he finds scents everywhere."

Scrapes, shuffling, and grunts indicated the moving of furniture.

"Is that really necessary?" Irene was definitely annoyed.

"It is. We can move it back when we've finished. We're just checking for hiding places."

Bella felt frozen in place. If they looked upstairs—

Edward placed his hand over hers, signing, we're well hidden. He glanced at the doorway, their direct view of which was blocked by several boxes. They were out of sight, but . . .

The stairwell creaked.

Bella closed her eyes.

"You don't need to accompany me," said a male voice.

"I'd rather see what you're doing, if you're going to inspect my bedroom." Irene sounded appropriately incensed.

The man cleared his throat. "We're merely being thorough."

Drawers thunked open and closed.

"Yes, I'm sure they're hiding with my undergarments."

"They may have an infant, so we're checking for anything that indicates one's presence."

"My cousin stayed with me prior to summoning and before relocating, so you will find such things here."

"I see."

The door of the attic rattled. "Please unlock this."

"No."

"No?"

"I'm not letting a whiffler loose in my stock. It's valuable." She paused. "And I doubt you can afford to replace it."

The man sighed. "A fair point. Unlock it but hold the leash while I look."

Bella's heartbeat felt like a drum. Would he hear that?

The whiffler began to yowl. "Oh shush, Quintus, I'll hold your leash in a minute."

Bella imagined she was part of the wall.

"How far back does this go?" The man was mere steps from them.

"The distance of my shop. Just be careful—one of the old lampas has taken up residence there. He keeps the rats under control but doesn't light anymore. It can be . . . startling when he lunges."

Bella looked around the dark space, hoping to God Irene was lying.

"Ah." The steps retreated. "I think I've seen enough. Alright, Quintus, we can keep going. Thank you, Miss."

"Can you tell the rest of your people they don't need to come back? It's been two nights in a row now. I don't have help in the shop, and I do need to be awake for my work."

"Of course. I'm sorry. Ah, while I'm here, can I trouble you for some—" The voice faded to a rumble as they went downstairs.

Slowly, Bella released a breath. Edward squeezed her hand.

Only when the house had been silent for some time did Irene appear again. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting," she whispered, "but I wanted to make sure they were gone. It's safe to come out now."

Edward carried the baby, and when Bella emerged, blinking at the lampa light, it was to find Irene staring at her. "Are you well?"

The tears began falling, Bella keeping her sobs quiet as Irene embraced her. "You're safe here. Truly, you're safe," she whispered.

Bella wept out of relief, yes, but for grief too. She knew they were safe there for now but not forever. As she accepted Irene's comfort, she knew their reprieve was only temporary—as was their time together if Edward had his way.