Collide and Seek

by Sara C. Roethle

  I jumped as two dark shapes appeared on either side of me, then tried to quiet my breathing as Sophie and Alaric hurried me away from the store they'd just robbed. They each had brand new black backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  “You know,” Sophie whispered, “the look-out is supposed to actually pay attention.”

  “I was,” I whispered back. “It's not my fault you two move as quietly as cats.”

  I glanced at Alaric to see his pale face grinning in the moonlight. He was like a kid in a candy shop any time he stole. I guess after living five-hundred years, you had to take your thrills where you could find them.

  I looked down to hide my frown as we made our way through the quiet streets. We still hadn't talked about the possibility that I might love him, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to. I hadn’t yet concluded the notion. I reflexively reached up to fondle the key at my throat, secured by a length of leather cord.

  I felt oddly attached to the little black key, my own little tool of chaos. It wanted war and conquest. I was going to give the charm what it wanted, if only to ultimately destroy it.

  The charm seemed to pulse with energy, as if it had read my thoughts, then we reached the edge of civilization, and it was all I could do to keep up as Sophie and Alaric began to run.

  They darted over the snow and around trees. To anyone listening, they would only hear my clumsy footfalls, as my companions were as quiet as they were quick.

  After a time I slowed, then stopped and hunched over, trying to catch my breath. Alaric circled back around to me as Sophie continued on. Within seconds, she was out of sight.

  Alaric grinned down at me, flashing his dainty, feline fangs, then scooped me up in his arms. He began to run effortlessly with me in his grasp.

  Heat radiated from my body despite the cold, making my usually useful heavy coat a bit of a hindrance. I looked up at Alaric's face, which didn't appear strained or flushed at all, and suddenly felt greatly inadequate. Sophie, Alaric, and James were all unnaturally strong, with way more endurance than I'd ever have.

  “How do you do that?” I asked.

  “What?” he replied, his voice not hitching in the slightest.

  “Run without tiring, even while carrying me. James can do it too, but I’m stuck with sucky human speed.”

  He grinned, his eyes remaining on the path ahead. “My gifts are mostly physical. I have little innate magic, except for my ability to shift my hands, teeth, and eyes. Those with more obvious magic usually tend to be physically weaker. Estus is like you.”

  “So some get to be scary in the magic department, but in a fist fight, shit out of luck?”

  He snorted. “Something like that.”

  He slowed as we reached our campsite where Sophie was already waiting with James, then let me down to my feet. What I could see of James' face by the light of the campfire was morose. His elbows were on his knees, hands propping up his chin. He sighed as he rolled his near-white eyes up to us, then let his chin-length, golden hair fall forward in defeat.

  Sophie grunted in irritation, then unrolled her previously stolen sleeping bag. Her new black backpack rested beside her, and I couldn't help but wonder what it contained. We had already stolen clothing, camping supplies, and food. What else was there?

  Alaric nudged me playfully with his shoulder. “Let's go find some firewood.”

  I nodded and followed him as he walked away. I eyed the backpack still slung over his shoulder with interest, then caught up to his side. The backpack blended in with the black of his clothing, but still looked somehow out of place. It made him seem younger, like a teenager on his way home from school, only most high schoolers weren't 6'2” and well muscled, and they didn't look at you with their dark eyes like they were thinking about eating you.

  “So,” I began as we ventured further into the darkness, “about what happened with Diana . . . ”

  “You're regretting killing her?” Alaric joked, avoiding the actual subject I was attempting to broach.

  I rolled my eyes. “I'm referring to what happened before that.”

  He crouched down and snagged a few fallen branches.

  I suddenly wished I hadn't brought up the subject at all. I took a deep breath as I looked down at his dark hair. I knew it was unbelievably soft, and had the sudden urge to run my fingers through it, but I resisted.

  “When I said that I loved you, I was put on the spot,” I grumbled. “I'm not really sure how I feel. I'm not even sure how much I like you. You did let me get tortured, after all. I just don't want the idea of love hanging in the air like some big, foreboding thing that we're both avoiding talking about.” I let out a harsh breath. I hadn't expected my words to tumble out so haphazardly, and now my pulse raced as I waited for him to reply.

  He smiled and stood back up, firewood in hand. “I see you've been holding on to some things,” he joked. “Has it really been bothering you?”

  “Yes,” I answered quickly, “or no.” I took another deep breath, then explained, “I just thought we should talk about it.”

  “And you want to know if I love you back,” he finished.

  “No!” I exclaimed, though really I did. “I just want to be clear on the fact that if I love you, it's in some weird, twisted, Stockholm Syndrome type of way.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “Isn't that the one where captives begin to love their kidnappers?”

  I blushed. “Well you did kidnap me.”

  He frowned. “I was acting on orders.”

  I shook my head, then started walking. “Be that as it may, I'm not about to just blindly love you without taking into account everything we've been through.”

  “So you do love me?” he asked from behind me. Before I could answer, he caught up to my side and tugged on the end of my braid playfully.

  He let go of my hair and brushed my shoulder as he walked ahead of me to where I assumed there was more firewood. I, for one, couldn't see anything. Night vision must have been another perk of physical magic.

  I reached his side again and stopped while he picked up more wood. “That's not what I meant. I just meant that I'm not some silly, naïve girl that falls in love despite all the evidence the guy might not be good for her.”

  Alaric stood and looked down at me with a strange expression.

  “What?” I asked, when he didn't speak.

  He sighed. “Have you ever stopped to consider that maybe you might not be good for me?”

  My jaw dropped. When I managed to close it I asked, “How so?”

  “Well, Madeline,” he began in a lecturing tone. “Since we met, I abandoned my home, became a fugitive, almost got sacrificed by you, and now I'm about to risk my life to start a war because you want to destroy that little key around your neck. I think you've been much worse for me than I have for you.”

  My stomach churned. I knew that most of it hadn't been my fault, at least not directly, but he had gone through a lot by simply being associated with me.

  He began walking again, and I had to jog to catch up with him. “Then why even pursue me at all?” I asked weakly.

  He stopped and flashed a lascivious smile. “Because I like things that are bad for me.”

  My mouth went dry as he dropped the firewood he'd been carrying and closed the distance between us.

  “But do you love them?” I managed to say.

  “Perhaps,” he said slyly as he reached his hand up to cradle my jaw, “but I would be loathe to admit it, especially after they've worked so hard to convince themselves that they don't love me in return.”

  He leaned down and kissed me before I could say anything in reply. I kissed him back, not sure if our conversation had actually accomplished anything. I had a feeling that it hadn't, but at the moment, I didn't really care.

  Alaric pulled one hand away to unzip and reach into the backpack behind him. A moment later his hand returned to hook something onto the side of my belt.

  I pulled away from the kiss and looked down to find a
huge hunting knife at my hip. I looked back up to meet his eyes. “Are we planning on stabbing people?”

  He quirked his lip into a crooked, half-smile. “Hopefully not, but as the saying goes, 'Speak softly, and carry a big stick.'”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Or in this case, complain loudly, and carry a big knife?”

  His expression turned thoughtful, then he nodded. “Something like that, now come here.”

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. Sophie and James were probably running out of wood for the fire, but my concern over the situation was minimal. My greatest concern at that moment was the man holding me close, looking devilish with his long, black hair, and eyes that had at some point shifted to feline.

  7

  I pulled away from Alaric at the sound of shouting. Sophie's voice rang out clear in the night, while James' was a mere murmur in reply.

  Alaric rolled his eyes. “Even with his memory gone, they're still fighting.”

  I took a step back, feeling silly for getting absorbed in a makeout session literally seconds after trying to explain to Alaric that I didn't love him.

  “We should probably get back before their arguing alerts the police and any Vaettir looking for us,” he continued.

  I didn't argue, and instead waited while he regathered his firewood, then followed him as he led the way back to our campsite, glad that he couldn't see my blush.

  We still had no idea if the cops were even after us, but we'd decided to play it safe and stay out of sight. The hope was that the local Doyen had cleaned up our crimes. It was standard protocol for the clans, but we weren’t banking on it.

  I might have been more skeptical than I was if I didn’t already know what the clans could accomplish. There should have been questions when I accidentally took the life of one of my foster parents, but the questions never came. Estus had covered it up.

  However, this time there were multiple bodies instead of one, and we had no idea what had happened between Diana, James, and the police when Alaric, Sophie, and I had made a run for it. We likely never would know, unless James regained his memory or Diana miraculously came back to life.

  I stumbled across felled branches and rocks as we went, feeling tired and hungry. I'd been so worried about getting my convoluted point across to Alaric that I hadn't realized how far we'd walked to find firewood.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when the campfire came back into view, a tiny beacon of light in the darkness. I could no longer hear Sophie and James arguing, and as we approached I saw that they now sat on opposite sides of the fire, not meeting each other's eyes.

  Alaric walked ahead of me to dump the extra firewood near James, then went to sit by his sister. Feeling embarrassed about how long we'd been gone, and a little bad for James in his current state, I took a seat next to him instead of the others.

  He turned and gave me a sad smile. I almost reached out and patted his shoulder in encouragement, then reminded myself that he was still James, the man who had stabbed me and enjoyed it, even if he didn't remember it. He didn't deserve my sympathy.

  Feeling uncomfortable, I scooted a little bit away from him.

  Alaric turned to his sister. “Was there a reason you were trying to alert anyone within a five mile radius of our presence?”

  Sophie scowled, then gestured at James with a sharp nod. “Mother Theresa over there thinks that we should make peace with the local clan so we can all live happily ever after.”

  James frowned and looked down at the fire, obviously not wanting to argue with Sophie any further.

  I pushed my boot-clad feet a little closer to the fire. “It's not the most absurd idea, especially for someone who has no clue what's going on.”

  “If he has no clue what's going on,” Sophie added.

  I stared back at her, confused.

  “She thinks I'm faking,” James explained.

  “Ah,” Alaric cut in. “Well that explains the yelling.”

  I shivered. Even though the area we'd chosen was well-sheltered by trees, the earth was still damp from residual snowfall. The moisture was yet to soak through the leather pants, but it was still cold.

  “It's something he would do,” Sophie muttered.

  Everyone went silent.

  “It doesn't change our plan either way,” I said finally. “Tomorrow we contact the local Vaettir, and we take them by force.”

  “You say that so casually,” Sophie replied hotly, “like we aren't about to all risk our lives on the slim chance that you can make the charm work to your advantage. That's if we can even get the locals to talk instead of jumping straight to killing us.”

  “Do you have a better plan?” I sighed, knowing for a fact that she didn't.

  She crossed her arms and glared at me. “No, but I'd like you to take things seriously.”

  “You're not my case worker anymore,” I snapped, “and I'm no longer a scared teenager hoping for some worthwhile advice. I know you're unhappy with this whole situation, and I know you're hurt that Maya betrayed you after you risked your life for her, but neither of those things are my fault. Stop taking your bad mood out on me.”

  Alaric grinned as he watched our exchange, but made no move to cut in. James looked down at his feet miserably.

  Sophie took a deep breath. “You're right, I'm sorry,” she replied, sounding pained. “We will contact the natives, and meek, little Madeline will assert herself as their omnipotent leader.”

  I bit my lip at her sarcasm, but let it go.

  “The natives are already here,” came a heavily accented female voice from behind where Alaric and Sophie sat.

  All of us except for James jumped to our feet. James remained seated, terror clear on his face. Either he wasn't faking his memory loss, or he was an exceptional actor, because the James I knew never looked scared.

  Three people stepped forward out of the darkness. Two stood beside Sophie, and the third beside Alaric. I assumed the person standing beside Alaric had been the one to speak, as she was the only female of the group. At first I thought we might stand a fighting chance, then several more shapes came into view.

  “I assume you are the ones who killed our people at the hotel, though I was told there were five of you,” the woman who'd initially spoken continued.

  She seemed confident even though we had killed several of her friends just a few nights before, or maybe it was just her height. It was hard not to look confident when you were around 6'4” with a mane of pale blonde hair and a perfect, creamy complexion. She had a warrior's body, all muscle, but lithe enough to move quickly.

  Her light eyes flicked to each of my companions, then settled on me. “Am I to assume that you are the one who will be swooping in to take us over?” she asked as a smile curved her lips.

  “Well there's a long story behind that,” I began, but she held up her hand to cut me off.

  “We've been searching for you, Madeline,” she explained. “I'm to bring you to our Doyen.”

  “She goes nowhere without us,” Alaric stated, sounding more serious than I was used to.

  The woman glanced at him briefly, then turned her gaze back to me. “Fine.”

  She gestured with her hand and the rest of her people moved forward. As they came into view, I noticed that many of them were extremely tall and blond, just like their leader. It felt like we were being taken captive by a Viking clan, and the effect was increased by the large amounts of leather and fur most of them wore.

  Two hulking men who looked like twins each tried to grab onto Alaric and Sophie, but their hands came up with empty air. Moments later Alaric was at my side, and after glaring at her would-be captor, Sophie joined us.

  James allowed one of the few dark-haired people, a woman, to help him to his feet. The blonde Amazon calling the shots watched the whole display like it was the most amusing thing she'd ever seen. Since the Vaettir aren't exactly a cheerful people, maybe it was.

  She turned and walked back the way sh
e'd come, confident that we would follow. Alaric and Sophie both stopped to pick up their backpacks, which I presumed held more weapons like my knife, then sandwiched me like bodyguards. In a way they were, since I was fairly helpless until someone died, and the knife at my hip would do little against a trained attacker.

  The cold seeped in as we left the heat of the fire behind, and the light touch of Alaric and Sophie's shoulders offered no warmth. James followed behind us like a dejected puppy as the rest of the Vaettir fanned out around us, many of them disappearing from sight in the dark woods just as suddenly as they'd appeared.

  The blonde's tall form walking in front of us was little more than a shadowy silhouette in the dark forest. I tried to catch Alaric's eye as we walked, hoping for an explanation to why we were following the blonde's orders so willingly, but both he and his sister kept their expressionless gazes ahead on our captor.

  After a painfully cold ten minutes trudging through the woods, the blonde stopped in front of a massive tree. I stopped and waited, confused. The only way I'd ever entered a Salr was by way of magical vines, but I didn't see any vines in the snowy landscape.

  The blonde hadn’t moved that I could see, but suddenly the earth began to tremble. I watched in awe as the tree in front of us shimmered like a mirage in the hot sun, only it was nighttime and freezing. The shimmer dissipated, revealing a dark doorway in the middle of the tree, tall enough for the blonde to walk through comfortably, and wide enough for two people to walk side-by-side. Alaric and Sophie did not appear impressed, but I sure was.

  The blonde disappeared into the darkness within, while our other captors waited for us to move forward. I resisted the urge to clutch the charm near my throat as I took a hesitant step. Sophie dropped back behind us, leaving Alaric to walk by my side into the tree. Unable to help it, I reached out and touched the rough bark of the doorway, needing to reassure myself that it was real. The bark was cold, and left my fingertips damp.