Cursed: Traitor's Trail

Chapter 21 Part 2

 The trail at the edge was far more obvious. It was on its own, unconfused from the footsteps of others, and neither Brissa, nor Kierra, made any effort to hide them.

It was because she was hurried that she missed the warning signs. The two sets of prints had separated; Aya ran along the tracks that continued eastward steadily, her mind clouded with worry about how far the girl would go and what had become of Kierra. So that when she crossed the trip line, consisting of a hastily tied strand of grass, she flew forward. Twisting her body, she ended up sprawled on her back instead of her front. She grunted as she lost her breath and her vision fogged from the impact. Then, straining, she regained her focus, looking upward at a pair of familiar legs.

Kierra was standing above her. In her hand, she held a sharp and wicked looking knife, poised threateningly. Her face wasn't filled with the same rage as Aya had seen in Hamor and Lon, but there was a fierce determination on it that was just as frightening.

Aya rolled from the blade's path quickly, her mind racing. Why did she never have a weapon? She didn't even have the poison darts any longer, too afraid to keep them on her person. Not that she would use them on the woman anyway.

The blade sunk into the dirt she had just vacated. It rose once more, looking for its intended victim.

"Kierra!" Aya called. This had to be Brissa's doing; the healer didn't hate her that much. "Kierra! I need you to try to regain control. I don't want to fight you." Not to mention that she was sure to lose, disadvantaged as she was.

Kierra's expression did not falter, and her movements did not slow. She advanced toward Aya, the blade held before her menacingly.

Aya had little choice but to turn and flee. She dodged a shortened scraggle of grass that was attempting to grow on the gentle slope and sprinted forward.

Footfalls behind her signaled that Kierra gave chase.

Aya cursed. Whatever control Brissa had, it seemed to carry over into new scenarios without trouble. And what could she do? She was unwilling to harm the woman, even if she acquired a weapon. And she knew she ran out of time.

The dark branches of a long dead bramble rose in her path. They hunkered close to the earth, as though they knew their chances of surviving and were trying to avoid notice.

Aya dashed toward them, looking for inspiration. Bane said to use her surroundings; he didn't mention that they were often so useless. There wasn't even enough cover from the twigs to slip away from Kierra's view. The healer was several steps behind her now, her awkward and stiff movements slowing her progress.

As she neared the sticks, it became clear that this wasn't just any bramble, but the remains of a hawthorn bush, its wicked looking spikes still present long after the leaves stopped growing.

Could she use that? If she broke off a thorn, it would give her a weapon...sort of. But such a thing would be useless against a true blade, especially when she did not want to maim her target and her opponent clearly did.

If only she trapped the woman somehow, or lost her pursuit, but the few withered branches would not provide enough cover to hide in. She dove past the first of the limbs and reached her arm out to the side, grabbing one of the narrow, tapered thorns. The force of her momentum nearly wrenched her arm out of place before the thorn—belatedly—broke loose.

There. Now what to do with it?

She heard Kierra approaching and turned to face her. The healer ran forward, sweat glistened on her face and arms at the exertion. The blade still held before her, which must have proven troublesome while running. She seemed somewhat wit dulled and blinded to her surroundings in her focused state. Aya watched with calculation as she nearly ran into the first branch of the hawthorn before changing her direction.