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Chapter 84

Almost dying is becoming my daily tradition.
A strangled cry escapes my throat, and I'm deaf to the world, only knowing everything is about to end.
Then the hand closes around my wrist.
I wait for a moment, eyes closed. I peek.
First I see the scarred, rough hand clenched around my wrist, blood speckled up the arm like gruesome splatter paint. The muscled shoulder, gory, wounded bare chest, branded neck. Proud yet understated chin and straight nose, the face of a reluctant Prince. Eyes like an endless forest pool.
"Coal!"
Before realizing my actions, I've somehow pulled myself up off the ledge and on to him, half wanting to strangle him, the other half wanting to kiss him. This results in me screaming, of course.
"Traitor! How dare you!" I howl in betrayal, the joy of seeing him again gone now, and I try to find an area on his face that isn't bruised or bloody so I can slap it. "TRAITOR!"
I grab him around the neck and shake him, still unbelieving, but furious. "I trusted you! I thought you were done lying! I stood up for you-!"
"Ash!" He clamps his hand gently over my mouth, an eyebrow raised in an amused fashion, a hint of that sarcastic grin about his lips. "What in the Wold are you talking about?!"
I back away, unsure by his bemused reaction, still confused myself. Slowly, I become aware of the outcome of the battle, everything that I've missed over my drama.
Coughing, limping figures shuffling from the dust and the wreckage of the mountain trail, the mounds of bodies, both armored and Impure alike. No sign of the Airship, or our (Read: my) good friend the giant flying goat, for that matter, and I'm not certain if that's good or bad.
An bulky figure rises with a grating noise behind Coal, and I shove him to the side to leap up ten feet in the air and bring both my feet down hard on top of his head, then springing up again, claws shooting out, and landing vertically on the mountain wall, sliding down fifteen or so feet with the sound of fingernails on.. well, rock.
I land lightly on my feet beside Coal, and he can't help but grin.
"I love it when you spring kick people." He says through a breathtaking smile, and it takes an awful lot of concentration on my part to remember what I was accusing him off... It doesn't work to insult people for being gorgeous, after all. It really isn't fair...
"So you didn't betray us all to the Rulers?" I say, now doubtfully, as even he couldn't act out an innocent reaction like that.
"No." He says, stressing heavily on the word. "How the heck would I manage that anyways? What, did you think I had a tiny radio with me the entire time?"
I gulp. "Uh... No... 'Cause that would be ridiculous..." Mmhmmm. Sadly, I don't even fool myself.
"Sure. We'll talk later, though, because I think your friends might want to kill me." He says casually, as if suggesting we get under cover because it's going to rain.
I whirl, and face the mob.
From what I see, the dwindling number of survivors has been reduced to maybe a dozen, probably less. People in tattered, dirty rags, supporting their broken and injured brethren. People with tails and claws, people with yellow eyes and scaly faces. People holding large chunks of stone like weapons. All of them glaring at me and Coal like this is our fault.
"People," I say, stepping forward and raising my hands as a sign of peace. "Please. Let's sit down and talk this out over some chicken soup like good old civilized folk, huh?"
And a hunk of mountain sails at my head.
There's your answer.