Hostage (16 page)

“We need to look for somewhere to spend the night.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Somewhere off the road. Running water would be good, and maybe something to break the wind in case the weather turns bad. I brought this car because we can sleep in the back, so there’s no real need to find shelter.”

Astrin glanced over at him, the expression in his eyes not friendly. However, he didn’t say anything, and about fifteen minutes later, following a sign they’d noticed, he pulled off the road and onto a rough track. They followed the track for about half a mile until it turned into a small car park in the lee of a high cliff. The sound of running water close by was explained by a sign at the start of a path, which, according to the sign “…
provides a pleasant and stimulating trek to one of the area’s most outstanding monuments to the forces of nature. Cutting into the face of the cliffs, the waterfalls tumble into a series of natural bowls before cascading in frothing glory into a pool that can be accessed by a narrow set of steps carved into the rock itself and can be used as a swimming hole in warm weather by those strong enough to brave its chill embrace.
”

“I’ll get some wood for a fire,” Rowan said, fishing a large bottle out of the boot of the car. “Take this and see if you can find water.”

Astrin looked at both it and him with blank, hostile eyes, then took it and disappeared into the dusk.

Rowan collected wood and made a fire pit with large flat stones he found nearby. Using fire blocks and kindling from the “survival kit” in the car, Rowan soon had a good fire going, over which he hung a stainless steel “cauldron” containing a thick stew he’d brought from the kitchens in a sealed container.

Although it was spring, the evenings were still chill, especially here. As they got nearer the coast, the weather would warm. It was pleasant to sit and warm his hands at the fire, and he began to feel sleepy, lulled by the crackle of the flame, the nearby rushing of the water, and the smell of the bubbling stew. It was some time before he wondered where Astrin had got to.

As soon as he realized, however, he became concerned, since the sun had started to set in earnest and it was getting dark. Fishing a flashlight out of the car, he set off along the path Astrin had taken, calling his name loudly.

After rising sharply and executing some twists and turns, the path paused in its upward march and opened out into a flattish clearing about ten feet square, sloping down to the banks of the river. It wasn’t really much of a river here, more a stream. Near the water, a tree had fallen so the trunk was half in and half out of the water. Astrin sat on the part that protruded into the water with his boots off, dangling his feet into the stream. From where Rowan stood, with the shadows dancing over him and the light glancing off the surface of the water, Astrin looked like some kind of wood spirit.

“Astrin?”

Slowly, Astrin turned his head to look at Rowan. From this distance it was impossible to see the expression on his face.

“Are you all right?”

Astrin didn’t answer, but he wearily climbed off the tree and sat down to pull on his boots. Rowan sighed and turned back to the camp.

A
N
U
NCOMFORTABLE
N
IGHT

A
FTER
STIRRING
the stew to make sure it was doing okay, Rowan opened the back of the car, lifted the floor, and took some things out of the compartment that lay beneath. Making some adjustments to the backseats, he moved them forward to form a space that was easily big enough for two to stretch out comfortably. The floor was covered with a thin but effective thermal sheet that he topped with an enormous sheepskin. Finally, he set out two sleeping bags.

They were state-of-the-art—light as meringue, soft as marshmallow, warm as toast.

Looking at the sleeping bags lying next to each other, Rowan wondered what it would be like when they were both occupied. His stomach did a little flip. After what had happened today, it was anyone’s guess whether they’d be speaking to each other by the time they went to sleep. He couldn’t blame Astrin for being upset, but he was damned if he was going to let Astrin use it as an opportunity to torment him, no matter how much he deserved it.

Rowan was sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, stirring the stew, when Astrin appeared. Unsmiling, the young prince dropped the water bottle next to Rowan. Without saying anything, he continued past Rowan to climb a small incline nearby, where he sat facing away from the camp.

So this was how it was going to be.
Stupid moody kid, acting like a bloody teenager
. It suddenly occurred to him, with some surprise, that Astrin actually was a teenager. They both were, but Astrin was a year and a half younger. Rowan suddenly felt guilty. He’d come to think of Astrin as at least his equal in age because he seemed so mature and certain of himself. Clearly, Astrin had taken to the role of Crown Prince much better than Rowan had. Even in his ire, he was quiet and contained.

Rowan growled, low in his throat. Somehow, the realization that Astrin was just a kid, albeit a controlled and self-possessed one, did not make things better. In fact it made the whole situation much worse, since it caused Rowan to feel even guiltier. Being a babysitter on a dangerous mission was not something that appealed to him, and suddenly that was exactly what he felt this was.

When the stew was ready, he put some in a tin dish and took it over to Astrin, who looked up with the moon in his eyes.

“For some reason, I’m reluctant to watch you starve. Although if you carry on with the not speaking to me, I might reconsider.”

Without a word, Astrin took the bowl and turned away. Rowan sighed and went back to the campfire.
Well… if that’s how he wants to play it, so be it.

When he’d finished dinner and cleaned up his dishes, he went to get Astrin’s tin, figuring Astrin wasn’t going to clean it up himself. Much as he hated to take care of Astrin’s chores, it wouldn’t be a good idea to leave it until morning.

“You didn’t eat much.”

Astrin looked up at him and blinked, saying nothing. Rowan sighed again. “All right, keep ignoring me, and I’ll ignore you. We’ll both be childish and get killed. Fabulous. Just don’t expect me to chase you for conversation.”

Astrin shook his head, turning away again. “Oh for the Gods’ sake,” Rowan muttered and went back to the camp. “Don’t forget to put out the fire,” he called as he climbed into the back of the car.

Feeling exasperated and irritated, Rowan tugged off his boots, shrugged out of his jacket, and slipped off his trousers, then climbed into his sleeping bag. He hadn’t closed the back of the car because Astrin was still outside and the air was chill. At first the soft fabric was cold, but it warmed quickly. The sheepskin under him and the downy filling of the sleeping bag cushioned him, and he felt like he was floating. Once he started to get warm, his body relaxed. However, he was not able to go to sleep.

Although he was relaxed and warm, lulled by the soft night sounds, he was hyperaware that Astrin was still outside, still sitting looking at the stars, and still not speaking to him. He sighed. There was no real reason for his irritation to grow to the extent it had, but more than once he almost got up to shout at Astrin to get his ass into bed and let him sleep.

Rowan became tenser and tenser, straining to hear some sound, any sign of movement outside, but for the longest time, there was nothing. Of course it wasn’t really that long at all, it just seemed that way to his straining nerves.

Eventually he heard soft footsteps and a hiss as water was poured on the fire, followed by the stamping sound of Astrin dealing with the embers. Beginning to relax, Rowan listened while Astrin walked to the car and sat on the lip to undo and pull off his boots. Rowan’s irritation had almost reached screaming level by this point, and he was about to snap at him to stop making so much noise and hurry up when he heard Astrin grunt and hiss through his teeth as he struggled with the boots.

Something caused Rowan to pause at the sound and listen more carefully. It didn’t take him long to realize Astrin was struggling with more than just his boots. With a guilty start, Rowan remembered something Melissa had said: “Don’t mistake stubbornness for strength.”

Astrin threw his boots into the back, narrowly missing Rowan’s head, then followed them. Rowan sat up. Watching Astrin taking his jacket off, it was more evident that he was in difficulty.

“Are you all right?”

Astrin jumped, startled, clearly not expecting Rowan to be awake.

“I’m fine.” His voice was tight, but that could have been because he was still angry with him.

“You’re obviously not fine. I know you’re still angry with me, but pretending to be okay when you’re not is just silly.”

Astrin raised his head and looked at him, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. “Yes, I’m still angry with you, and if you think I’m silly, that’s up to you, but how I’m feeling has nothing to do with you, so just leave me be and go to sleep.”

Feeling angry again, Rowan glared at him. “Fine. If that’s how you feel, get on with it. And don’t forget to close the back of the car in case it rains.”

“Yes, it is going to rain,” Astrin said and reached for the handle on the inside of the lid. It was just a little more than arm’s length away. Rowan watched him stretch, then jerk and grunt as pain stabbed him, causing him to overbalance and fall out of the car, landing with a thud on the gravel below.

“Shit!” Rowan swore and jumped out of the sleeping bag, shivering in the cold air.

Astrin was already getting up, although he had his hand pressed against his side.

“Are you still going to tell me you’re all right?”

“I just overbalanced and hurt myself when I fell.”

Rowan reached out his hand to help him back into the car, but Astrin jerked away and almost fell again.

“Astrin,” Rowan snapped irritably, “will you please stop being so stubborn? If you’re ill, tell me. If you push yourself too hard, you’re eventually going to crash. You could put everything at risk. I get that you’re angry with me, and I don’t blame you, but pretending to be okay when you’re not is dangerous for both of us.”

Astrin glared at him, then sighed and his shoulders sagged. He looked defeated, causing Rowan to feel a surge of emotion that was oddly protective.

“Come on,” Rowan said softly, reaching out as one would to a wild animal that might bolt at the slightest provocation. “Let me help you get to bed.”

Astrin gazed at the proffered hand with suspicion, even distaste, but then he sighed and took it, allowing Rowan to help him into the car. Rowan closed the door, sealing them into a warm, snug world as the first fat drops of rain fell outside.

“Can you manage to take your trousers off?”

Astrin nodded, too tired to respond, and almost managed, but he ran out of energy before he was quite able to kick them off. He lay, staring at the roof of the car, his breathing ragged and his eyes dull.

“Will you let me help you now?”

Turning his head slightly, Astrin held Rowan’s gaze for a few moments, then turned away, unable to give more than tacit agreement.

Rowan tugged the trousers free of Astrin’s feet and threw them into the general pile.

“You have to wriggle a bit to get into the sleeping bag. Can you manage?” Giving him a contemptuous look, Astrin hauled himself up so he could slide into the softness of the microfiber cocoon. With a deep sigh, he closed his eyes.

Rowan climbed back into his own bag and settled down, turning to face Astrin. In the dim light, he watched intently as the lines of weariness and pain on Astrin’s face gradually relaxed and his breathing evened out and deepened.

“Thank you.”

The soft words startled Rowan, since he’d not expected to hear Astrin speak again that night.

“Um…. Yeah, no problem. How are you feeling?”

Astrin opened his eyes. They glinted in the moon-frosted darkness. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

Astrin shrugged. “I’m just—” He sighed. “—tired.”

“That’s the way people usually feel when they go to bed. That’s not it, though, is it?”

Astrin pursed his lips, and Rowan sighed.

“Will you please stop with this silent treatment? I know I was a shit to you. I know you’ve been hurt and didn’t deserve it, but you’re still hurting, and it’s stupid to just put up with it if there’s something I can do.”

“What can you do?”

“I don’t know. You won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Why should I trust you?”

Rowan gazed at him, and that strangely protective feeling crept over him again, with a bittersweet edge. “Because, right now, I’m all you’ve got,” he said.

He saw Astrin’s eyes widen. They were very bright. Astrin hiccupped as little sobs bubbled up.

“Hey,” Rowan said awkwardly, wriggling his arm free to pat Astrin’s shoulder. “It’s not that bad.”

Making a huge effort, Astrin choked out, “What… the hell… do you know?”

“If you won’t tell me what’s wrong, how can I help?”

“You can’t help. Leave me alone.” But he didn’t move, and he kept his eyes on Rowan, tears falling.

“Nope.”

For a time Astrin was silent, sobbing. He was as quiet and controlled in this as in everything else he did. Rowan didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing.

“I’m scared, Rowan. I’m really scared. I feel… I don’t remember anything before I… before I was here, but I know I was never alone. I don’t know how I know, but I do. And now… I—I’m completely alone.

“I hurt and that scares me. I feel weak and shaky and ill, and that scares me. I’m heading off on a crazy journey on the strength of a vision I don’t understand, and can’t trust, but have to follow. That terrifies me and I—I’m alone.”

Hiccupping again, the sobs came harder. Astrin’s body shook with them. Unable to stay back any longer, Rowan freed his arms from the sleeping bag and shuffled closer, taking Astrin into an embrace.