Chapter 507: Protector
GAHRYE
Gahrye wasn't sure if Elia's beast was as exhausted as him, or if she was so uncomfortable, she hadn't wanted to move. Either way, he didn't wake until well into the afternoon, to find the beast still at his back, panting, staring at the cave mouth.
He'd been worried. Her breathing would stop periodically, as if she braced against something. And he felt her body tighten. He'd been concerned it might be the pains of labor, but he thought those came regularly and these seemed to have no rhyme or reason to them. Sometimes her body writhed several times in a few minutes, other times she seemed comfortable for quite a while.
In the end, when she didn't get up when he got to his feet, his worry spiked. "Stay here," he said, praying Elia was in enough control to help him. "I'll bring you water and some food."
He knew the carcass wasn't far away and hoped it hadn't been completely consumed overnight. But he'd been a little turned around and lost the scent trail, so had to backtrack. By the time he'd found it, shaken off the insects and shooed away the vulture that had found it, then dragged it back to the cave, it had been almost an hour and he was panicking that she might have left again.
But she was still there, blending with the rock when she didn't move, when he entered the little valley and dragged the carcass to her.
He'd been concerned that she might not want to eat if she was hurting, but she leaped on the corpse as soon as he presented it to her. Growling as she ate. So he stepped away a few feet and dug into his bag for some of the dried fruit he'd packed just in case, grateful that Kalle had urged him to prepare for any eventuality. Then he waited until Elia's beast raised her head and was no longer chewing.
Without a word, he picked up the bags and threw them over his sore shoulders, then they walked down to the burbling creek at the bottom of the valley. Elia crouched on the bank, her heavy paws leaving tracks in the softened earth as she lapped up the bright, clear water.
Gahrye drank his fill. It was such a relief to drink water that didn't taste like the terrible stench of the human world!
When they were both watered, he turned to scan the valley and the position of the sun. "This way," he said quietly, tipping his head towards the beast. "We need to go east, and a little north, I think."
He started walking quickly. He wasn't completely certain where they were, but he was confident of the general direction, and that eventually they would reach a part of the WildWood that he was familiar with so he could direct her more confidently.
They would be at the Tree City by this evening, he was sure of it.
He turned to look for her, to make sure she hadn't darted off, and realized she wasn't next to him. Whirling, adrenalin shooting through him in fear that she'd disappeared again, it was first with relief that he found her several feet behind him, walking very slowly.
Then the worry was a blade in his stomach.
When he caught her eyes, she huffed, but she didn't stop moving.
Gahrye waited until she caught up, then turned and walked, much more slowly this time. And paying attention.
What he saw over the following hour did not soothe his fear.
Elia was in pain. And struggling. She walked slowly, panting, and would randomly turn her head quickly, as if something was coming at her from the side that she needed to guard against. She would groan now and again, too, and her pace slowed further whenever she did.
Their progress was so slow, Gahrye started taking breaks in the walking to give her a chance to rest, and whenever he did, she would slump to the ground with a massive sigh that cleared the dust from the path in front of her and drop her chin to her paws, curling her feet up under her. But whenever he stood, she always sighed and got up to follow him.
At one point a bird had flown high above them. Gahrye's first instinct had been to get their attention, but then he remembered the number of Avalines that had defected with the wolves. Instead, he'd ushered Elia silently into a thicket of trees and bushes where they'd crouched for half an hour until he was certain the patrol had moved on.
It took them five hours just to get to the Portal cave. By which time the light was beginning to fail.
Gahrye's heart raced when they found it—he knew the way from here! But then he looked at Elia's beast, who had immediately made her way to the creek at the side of the clearing and was lapping water again, though they'd had a drink less than an hour earlier.
Something was very very wrong.
When she stopped drinking and turned, he stepped in front of her.
Her beast stopped dead, eyes locked on his, wary and suspicious.
"I need to get you help," he said quietly. "Maybe… maybe you should wait here and I can run to the City. I don't know what's going on there. I don't know what we're walking into. I don't want to risk—"
She growled and started walking again, pushing past him on the trail and walking into the deep dark under the trees. When he didn't immediately follow, she turned her head and looked back at him, and for a moment in her eyes he saw Elia—sad, scared, in pain, unwilling to be alone. Then the beast's golden gaze was back, admonishing him until he started walking, following her, then hurrying to catch up and walk alongside. Slowly.
She groaned and whipped her head around to nudge her own belly, but she didn't stop walking.
Gahrye's stomach plummeted to his toes. "I'm so sorry, Elia. I didn't realize. I'll… we'll get there when we get there. We can hide you in the cave, or… we'll figure something out. Just hold on, okay?"
The beast didn't respond, but she did keep walking, following Gahrye when they met an intersection of trails and he led back towards the Tree City.
His tension rose as they made their slow progress. But he could see she wouldn't stop.
So he had to pray that they didn't meet with the wolves, or any kind of enemy. Because she wasn't in any state to be fighting, and he couldn't shift.
For a moment he saw himself, helpless in the onslaught of teeth and claws, watching as the Queen he'd finally returned to Anima was attacked and devoured by her enemies.
Rage burned in his chest that he'd been born so ill-equipped.
But then he caught sight of the bloody smear on his wrist and he took a deep breath.
He might not be able to protect her from a pack of wolves. But he could protect her—or anyone else from the voices. From what had happened to Shaw.
And that wasn't nothing, he reminded himself.
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