Cadarn woke to the smell of cooking meat and the realization that he was still alive.
Both surprises, honestly.
The fever had broken sometime during the night, leaving him weak and soaked in sweat but clearheaded for the first time in days. Morning light filtered through the pine canopy, painting everything in shades of gold and green.
Kael sat by the fire, roasting something small on a stick—rabbit, probably. She'd changed into dry clothes and her dark hair hung loose around her shoulders, making her look younger. Less like a professional hunter, more like a person.
She noticed him stirring. "You're awake. Fever broke about an hour before dawn. Figured you'd either pull through or die. Glad it's the former."
"Sorry to disappoint you."
"Not disappointed. Dead men don't pay debts." She pulled the rabbit from the fire and tore off a piece, tossing it to him. "Eat. You need protein."
The meat was barely cooked, still bloody in the middle. Cadarn's stomach revolted, then reconsidered. He was too hungry to be picky.
They ate in silence for a while.
Finally, Cadarn asked the question that had kept him half-awake all night: "So. What did you decide?"
Kael didn't look at him. "Still deciding."
"It's morning. You said we'd decide in the morning."
"I said we'd talk in the morning. Talking isn't deciding." She threw the rabbit bones into the fire. "Here's the problem, Doctor. Everything you told me last night—the baby switch, the fraud, all of it—I believe you. Which means this information is worth more than five hundred gold. It's worth kingdoms."
"So you're turning me in to the highest bidder?"
"I'm considering my options. There's a difference." She finally looked at him. "Option one: I deliver you to my current employer as contracted. Get my five hundred gold. Walk away clean."
"And I get tortured for information, then killed when I'm no longer useful."
"Probably. Not my problem." Her voice was matter-of-fact. "Option two: I take you to Northern Coalition territory like you want. Help you testify. No payment. Just the warm fuzzy feeling of doing the right thing."
"Which you don't believe in."
"Which I don't trust. Doing the right thing gets you killed in this world." She stood, pacing. "Option three: I take what you told me and sell it myself. To Duke Theodric, to the Crown Loyalists, to whoever pays most. Cut out the middleman."
Cadarn's blood went cold. "That would—"
"Start a bidding war. Yes. Drive up the price. Make me rich." She stopped pacing, facing him. "Or option four: I kill you right here. Bury the secret with you. No one gets the information. The war continues but at least it's not my problem anymore."
"Those are terrible options."
"Welcome to moral ambiguity, Doctor. It's not as fun as the philosophers make it sound." Kael sat back down heavily. "See, here's what you don't understand. The moment you told me your secret, you made me part of this. Now I'm not just a tracker who found a target. I'm someone with dangerous knowledge. Which means whoever hired me will want to make sure I stay quiet after delivery. Permanently quiet."
Cadarn hadn't considered that. "They'd kill you?"
"They'd try. I'm not easy to kill. But the attempt would still be irritating." She pulled out her knife, began cleaning her fingernails with the tip. "So really, my choice isn't about you anymore. It's about my survival. And maybe—maybe—about trying to sleep at night for once."
"The girl," Cadarn said quietly. "The sixteen-year-old. You're still thinking about her."
Kael's knife stopped moving. "Every damn day."
"Then help me. Not for me. Not even for the kingdoms. For her. To prove that you can make a different choice."
"That's manipulation."
"That's truth. Sometimes they're the same thing."
Kael stared at him for a long moment. Then she laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. "You know what the worst part is? You're right. I want to help you. I actually, genuinely want to do the stupid, unprofitable, probably suicidal thing of getting you to safety."
"Then do it."
"It's not that simple. Wanting to do something and doing it are different things. One makes you feel noble. The other gets you killed."
"So you're still deciding."
"I'm still—" Kael stopped mid-sentence, head cocked. Listening.
Cadarn heard it too. Distant but unmistakable.
Dogs. Hunting dogs.
And they were getting closer.