Vivienne Von Vexx's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

Vivienne crossed the black river and followed the trail into the green light. The woods felt new and strange. She had not gone far when she saw the cart, tipped on the path with its canvas torn and its sacks spilled across the moss. A man lay beside it. He was young, with blonde curls matted at the temple. Blood streaked his face from a wound above his brow. Vivienne knelt. His mouth was soft in sleep, his lashes pale. It was a kind face. It was, she realized with a small cold shock, a face very close to the one she carried in her pocket. Then she saw the stake. It lay half under his open palm, carved and bright with red enamel, made for killing things like her. A hunter. Her hands went still. Voices drifted up the trail behind her, faint but coming closer. Someone would round the bend soon. She could leave him. She could end him. Instead Vivienne slid her arms under his shoulders and lifted. The stake she left where it fell. She carried him off the path into the trees, toward the river, toward the grove — and toward whatever came next when he opened his eyes and saw hers.