Praetorian Rising, стр. 26

"We need to get over the river!"

An overwhelming sense of desperation took over, and she felt her steps slowing, slipping out of rhythm. She craved a moment, just a single second, to offer her goodbyes to the life she'd had.

"And what about after that?!" Camille shot back, trying to keep her annoyance in check.

"Out of Sierra Village," he grunted over his shoulder as he continued to move in swift, even strides. "You brought far too much attention to yourself here. I thought someone of your stature would've been more careful."

"Excuse me? You have no right to treat me like a child—you don't even know me! And how are you so sure the Chimera are following us? We might've outrun them!"

As they entered a small clearing, Vesyon suddenly spun and growled at her mere inches from her face. "You've always been a hothead, Camille, but right now I need you to shut your mouth and follow my lead! You're either with me, or you're supper for them. Decide!"

The sharp spark in his slate stare made her stumble backward a few steps. Her back rammed into a rough trunk of a pine halting her movements and jarring her senses. His words came without sugar or tenderness; his meaning punched her straight in the gut. She had to make a choice, and there was no time to catch her bearings: leave with Vesyon and abandon Sierra Village or stay and find herself without a home.

Her eyes met his in resignation, a quick breath of understanding puffing from between her lips. "Fine."

Vesyon turned toward Neeko, sitting patiently at their feet. He whispered a short message to the sleek feline, and the cat sped away into the night as Vesyon faced west.

"Where's he going?" Camille snapped, feeling suddenly abandoned by the only friend she had left.

"To warn Romeo Village of what's coming." He said, ignoring Camille's obvious discomfort, before moving west into the dark depths of the forest. Camille followed without question, uncertain of what else she could do.

"He'll never forgive me," Camille mumbled as they marched at a swift pace through the underbrush. Immediately, she wished she could take back the unexpected words of vulnerability. Her eyes snapped up to Vesyon, seeing only a portion of his profile— assessing his reaction but he seemed as neutral as ever.

Together they moved, their boots a bare whisper through the layer of wet leaves. Camille walked in sync behind him through the thick growth of trees for almost a half mile before he responded to her. "Perhaps Peter isn't the one you need forgiveness from."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Camille snapped back at him, unable to control her reaction.

Vesyon sighed and stopped to face her again. The barrier holding back his emotion faltered, and for a mere moment, she registered sympathy swimming in the grey of his stony expression. He stood only a few feet from her but closed the distance as he reached a bare hand up to her cheek and pushed a flyaway curl behind her ear, his warm breath feathering across her cold cheeks. "I can see you’re feeling guilty, Camille. You're searching for forgiveness, but you won’t find it in Sierra Village."

Camille's mouth fell open in shock at his tender words and actions. She may not have recognized the stranger, but he apparently knew her very well. His hand cupped her cheek for a mere second, a smile twitching his lips with what she thought might be compassion before he stepped away, putting a substantial amount of distance between them, and slipping his glove back in place.

At first, the man had appeared young, the look of a boy growing into a man. Now, however, in the dead of night and on the run from Chimera, he appeared ages older than herself.

"Who are you?" Camille asked, unable to keep the question tumbling from her lips.

"I'm an old friend Camille; you don't need to be afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid," she replied, her voice confident—unlike the subtle shake in her hands.

He nodded once in apparent agreement. Without wasting another second, Vesyon headed up a path through the hills and Camille trailed behind in a tangle of astonishment.

The air tasted different the higher they went, filled with the bitter fragrance of wet pine needles instead of the soggy sweetness of rotting leaves at the end of autumn. Snow lay in icy piles along the tree roots and over the tops of bushes, a chilly blanket draped over the forest grounds. They moved in sync, one foot in front of the other. It was like a mesmerizing dance to Camille—one she'd done many times before and yet couldn't remember until she was already doing it.

Vesyon slowed his pace as they headed toward a snow-filled meadow, one too expansive for Camille's liking. She felt a cold tingle run the length of her spine. Something wasn't right. "Are we crossing?"

Vesyon nodded curtly, glancing around the widespread clearing. The meadow extended almost a quarter mile in front of them, a sea of weeds and waist-high grass dusted with white.

"We're no longer in Sierra Village, are we?" Camille whispered. She sensed his urgency to keep moving, but he remained still as a statue.

"We're much further south than I believe you'd remember. Just through that forest and beyond the hillside is the northern end of the Red River. We need to cross here to make our way into Romeo Village," he said in a bare whisper. The rain had slowed considerably. Water droplets slipped through the air, gentle and calm against the naked plains of Camille's face. Vesyon's hood was now pushed back. She could see the sharp angles of his face, and his features, though striking, were not conspicuously handsome. His black, shoulder-length hair lay in stringy cords, wet and glistening like the coat of a seal. His eyes were the color of early dawn, a whisper of unknown horrors hiding in the shadowy depths. She wasn't afraid of him, but she could see why anyone in their right mind would