Ranger's Apprentice: Your Fault

Chapter 3

HER PANICKED-FILLED EYES STARED up at him as she reached out a bloody hand, grasping his arm with surprising strength. "Promise," she gasped, the blood dripping from her lips.

"I promise," he told her. The light left her eyes, and it was only the child with him, those brown eyes filled with such curiosity, unaware that his mother was dead, unaware that it was his fault that both his parents were dead.

"This is your fault." He spun around, and the scene changed. The boy, now fifteen years old, stared at him, an unusual coldness in his voice. "It's your fault they're dead. If you'd have died, they would still be alive."

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn't come. The boy was right. It was his fault, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Will's father had died saving him. He'd tried to save Will's mother and instead it had been her that had saved him, costing her own life in the process. All of this was because of him.

And then Will stood in front of him now, hatred etched in every line of his face. He was a man now, and the saxe knife gleamed in his hand. "Why did you let them die? Why didn't you try to save them? I trusted you, Halt, and you lied to me!"

"I tried..."

"No you didn't!" He was shouting now. "Everything is because of you! You should have died in their stead! You don't deserve to live! I hate you!"

###

HIS EYES FLEW OPEN and he jerked upright, gasping for breath, reaching for the knife at his side. But no one was around him, and he was alone.

Halt dropped the knife, his heart pumping wildly. There was an odd stinging sensation at his eyes and he swiped at them, gritting his teeth. "Shut up," he whispered, lowering his head. "Shut up."

Hoofs pattered on the ground, and a nose gently nudged his head. He looked up as Abelard snuffed, tossing his mane. Do you want to talk about it?

He sat back, staring at the ground. For a moment, the swaying of the leaves was the only sound around them, and the silence pounded on him every second. It was suffocating.

"What is there to talk about?" His voice was hoarse. "It's my fault. I should have died in their stead."

What would that have done? Think about it. She would have most likely died anyways.

"Not if Daniel was still alive. He died because of me. Kord and Jerrel went after her because she was alone. If Daniel hadn't died saving me, then none of this would have happened."

And what if Daniel died in battle? The horse turned his head to look at him, a reproachful look in his eyes. Give him time. It just shocked him.

"But he's right."

You're just being stubborn.

Halt shook his head. "You don't understand." Not for the first time, he reflected on how absurd it was to talk to a horse. He might as well be talking to himself. "I shouldn't have kept that from him. I was afraid, and now I've pushed him away." Pain tore through his chest, and he closed his eyes. "I don't think I can fix this."

Like I said, give it time. Will's not someone who holds grudges.

"You'd be surprised," he murmured. "I'm good at making people hate me."

###

IT HAD BEEN RAINING for an hour now. Will urged Tug forward, leaning over as the little horse increased his speed. The tracks were barely there, but they were still clear enough. "Back there again," he said softly, a painful twist coiling in his stomach. He didn't want to go back, and yet that was where Halt seemed to have headed.

Probably not. Wouldn't surprise me if he followed you and then left.

He glanced down at Tug. "You think so?"

Of course.

He didn't reply, forcing himself to loosen his grip on the reins. The image of Halt's broken face entered his mind and he bit down on his tongue. You idiot, he berated himself. If he could take back what he'd said, then he would gladly do so. But the damage had been done, and it was his job to fix it.

Did he blame Halt? Deep down, there was a tiny voice in him, fighting against his better nature, wrecking its way through. It's because of him that they're dead, it whispered. If he'd died, your parents would still be alive.

"Shut up," he said aloud. It wasn't like Halt had meant for it to happen. It wasn't his fault. It had been Daniel's choice to save Halt, just as it had been his mother's choice to attack the thief. There was nothing he could have done, and yet that voice was still there, niggling in the back of his mind.

It wasn't Halt's fault.

Right?