Cascade Wildheart's Arc

Chapter 5 of 7

Cascade ducked through the shed's low door with the cup held steady. Dani lay against the stone wall, awake now, her eyes half open. The white fox sat by her bad leg, tail curled tight. Two chipmunks perched in the doorway, facing the trees, still as posts. On the broken table above them all, the griffon folded her golden wings and watched. "Don't," Dani said. Her voice scraped. "You've done enough. His men are out there. If they find me here, they find you too." She tried to sit up and hissed at the pain. Cascade knelt anyway. "You can't run on that leg. A clean wound can. A rotten one can't." She set down the cup and lifted the wet moss bundle beside it. "Let me finish. Then you decide." Dani looked at the fox, then at the griffon on the table. "She saw no cruelty in you," Cascade said, tipping her head toward the griffon. "Neither did he." The fox pushed his nose against Dani's hand. Dani stared at him. Slowly, she opened her fingers and let him stay. "Fine," she said. "Do it." Cascade dipped the moss in the healing water and pressed it to the torn skin. Dani's jaw locked. Then her shoulders eased. The angry red edges of the wound faded to pink. The swelling sank. Cascade wrapped fresh strips over it and tied them. The griffon spoke for the first time, flat and short. "The one-eyed man circles west. He will swing back. Two days was yesterday." Cascade's stomach tightened. "So one day," she said. The griffon dipped her beak once. "North," Dani said. "There's high country north. Rock and no trails. He hates ground he can't read." Cascade nodded. "Then north. When you can walk. The water works fast." The griffon spread one wing toward the door. "I fly the ridge. I mark his men. You move when I say." A plan now held them, thin but real. The chipmunks stayed at the door, tails stiff, guarding the trees. Cascade sat back. Dani watched her hair drift with no wind to move it. "Why help me," Dani said. "You don't know me." Cascade looked at the fox curled against Dani's side. "People run from me. You didn't." She paused. "Who were you before you ran?" Dani was quiet a long moment. "I raised a coyote from a pup. Learned all his sounds. They killed him for sport." Her voice went small and plain. "So I stopped belonging to them." She met Cascade's eyes and did not flinch at the green light in them. Cascade felt something settle in her chest. Not an alliance now. Something warmer. She reached out and rested her hand near Dani's, not touching, just close. Outside, both chipmunks shot upright at once. Their tails snapped rigid. Low, fast chittering filled the doorway. Boots. Not west. Close. The griffon rose off the table. "He's found the shed," she said.