Why is Emily running toward me?
“Olivia,” she said breathlessly once she stood before me. “You can’t keep wandering off like that. I was so worried when I turned to speak to you, and you were gone.”
I regarded her through my insane mind, as one might consider the discovery of new animal species. It was as if I looked at my world through a lens from a distance—I was so removed from my body I was practically catatonic.
Emily shook my sleeve. “Olivia, quit looking at me like that. You’re scaring me! Now come with me.”
She tugged me as one might drag a naughty child.
I obediently followed after her, stumbling as if my legs were unused to walking, even though we did it every day.
Being with Emily, however, reminded me of loss and pain. Emily’s hand did not comfort me at night. Balthazar had marked me. And the trauma of that fight had made me lose my baby.
When we arrived at our resting spot, I lowered to the ground to drink from the small creek meandering through the alluvial plains like a garden snake. I stared at a gaunt-faced, hollow-eyed stranger with stringy hair hanging from her head like burnt embers.
Who was this person who stared back at me? Once, I’d had hair that was lustrous and fiery. I’d fought for the weak, moved like the wind, and carried myself proudly.
I shook my head, and the stranger mimicked me, her ugly face rippling in the cold water.
“Who are you?” I whispered. “Why can’t you provide any comfort to me? You look like hell, that’s why. You have nothing comforting to share.”
I sighed and rose, scanning my surroundings.
Our paltry group sat on the ground or horseback, consuming a midday meal.
Marcellious strode in my direction, carrying something that looked like jerky.
My stomach lurched.
He thrust the dried meat toward me. “Here. You need to eat.”
I grabbed it from his hands and gnawed it like a ravenous animal. I’d been doing that a lot lately. Any manners I once possessed had slipped away, left behind in a pool of Roman’s and my blood.
Marcellious looked askance at me and then directed his attention elsewhere. “We need a plan.”
“What could we possibly need a plan for?” I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
“Are we still looking for the journal? For the sun and the moon daggers? Or possibly finding John James? Which one do you want to focus on?” Marcellious said, grimacing as his eyes met mine. Quickly, he averted his gaze.
“Fuck John James and fuck you. There’s no point in searching for anything anymore. Balthazar has won. He can come for me at any time. I’m ready for my death. I want to join Roman and my child.” I gave another swipe across my lips with my hand. “Besides, I want nothing to do with the memories and musings of the bitch who bore me.”
Marcellious shook his head.
I finished the last of my jerky and scanned Marcellious like a sniffing dog, searching for the next treat.
“That’s all you get,” he said, reading my mind. “We have to ration food until we find something else to catch. The fucking Kiowa stole all our stores of food.”
He spat a thick wad of phlegm on the ground near his moccasin-covered feet and crossed his arms over his chest.
I stared at the slimy spit, then turned toward the meandering creek as it made its way from the foothills, wandering as aimlessly as me.
“We can’t give up, Olivia. Think of all the innocent people in danger from Balthazar.”
“You do it. I won’t step in your way,” I said with a dismissive wave.
“Fuck, Olivia! When are you going to snap out of this? I went through loss, and I survived.”
I spun to face him, enraged. “You became anasshole, Marcellious. You let the darkness of pain and loss consume you. You tried to destroy Roman and kill me, so don’t assume sainthood, understood?”
