Michael was standing beside a tall tree. He stood perfectly still and seemed as focused on her, or perhaps his attention was on something in the distance, beyond Mary.
She turned but saw nothing, and when she glanced back to Michael she jumped; he stood beside her. She held her palm out, walked her fingers across it then pointed to her ears and shook her head.
“Silent steps are necessary for me.” He held out his cupped hands filled with berries.
Mary took a handful and savored their sweet juice.
“We will rest for only a few moments; we have a distance to go and cannot waste time.”
Mary nodded, walked to the water’s edge to sit and give her weary legs rest. Michael joined her, offering the remaining berries. A tender smile showed her appreciation and she reached out, gently brushing the berries from his hand into hers. She stared at his glove-covered hand realizing that strength and tenderness rested there. He could pick delicate berries without crushing them, and yet the same hand could snap a man’s neck. He was a contrast of shadow and light and she could not help but wonder what had created him.
She wished she could speak, ask him questions. A sudden thought struck her and she looked around excitedly, reached for a stick nearby. Then she wrote in the dirt in front of them.
Why?
She pointed at him, her finger going up and down the length of him.
“Why do I conceal my identity?”
She nodded.
“If people could look upon the Dark One, he would be dark no more. And he could help no one.”
Why help?
He did not answer immediately. He turned his head away and answered harshly. “I have no choice.” He stood and held his hand out to her. “We must go.”
She dropped the stick and took his hand. She had touched on a subject he did not wish to discuss, did not wish to reveal. Strange, they were so much alike. They both hid. She from Decimus, but who did he hide from?
Her thoughts were soon directed to her footsteps, the terrain having grown more difficult. Small hills, fallen trees, large stones that needed to be climbed, avoided, or walked around slowed their pace, as did her tired aching muscles. Just before nightfall they stopped briefly to eat roots collected along the way. Mary wished for any bed, even the hard ground to rest upon, but it was not to be. They continued on, darkness closing in around them. Mary tripped several times, unable to clearly see the path. Finally, she almost tumbled to the ground but Michael quickly caught her. She dropped her head tiredly to his chest.
He wrapped his arm around her for support. “I know you are worn out, but there is a cave a few more miles ahead and we can rest safely there.”
It felt good to rest her weight against him, if only for a moment. But she had to remain independent, reliant on herself, no matter how exhausted she was. She reluctantly eased herself off him. Then they continued, Michael at a hardy pace, she keeping up—surprising for two people who had been walking since daybreak. Neither uttered a word, focusing all their energy on steady and persistent footsteps.
Nearly two hours passed before they arrived at the cave. It was small, dark, and cold. Mary shivered. She rubbed her arms, longing for a fire to warm her bones. Michael cloaked his robe around her. “I will not take a chance and light a fire, though I do not think anyone has followed us this far; I will not risk it.”
Mary fought against dropping against him to rest again, but since she had not an ounce of strength left, it took only seconds for her body to betray her. She slumped against him, surrendering with her entire weight.
“Sit and rest while I go find soft brush to fashion a bed,” he urged. “We must sleep and have much land to cover tomorrow.” Then he lowered her exhausted body to the ground.
Mary’s aching legs were grateful for the reprieve. As she rubbed the sore muscles she gave thought to Magnus. Would he join them soon or were she and Michael completely on their own?
Michael returned shortly with an armful of pine branches to find Mary writing in the dirt floor. He laid out the brush, then looked to see what she had written.
Magnus here soon?
Michael explained. “I am to see to your safety until I can contact him. He will then decide what is to be done with you. He is a good friend and cares very much what happens to you.”
Mary hung her head, her shoulders slumped, and she sighed heavily.
Michael bent down in front of her, slipping his glove-covered finger beneath her chin and lifting it gently. “Magnus will make certain that you have a safe place to live.”