The Spirit Guardians Book 3: Fated

Epilogue

Irene trudged through the snowy woods, clutching her black cape close to her. She had managed to take with her very little, just a book bag full of some clothes, a few treasures of her own, and a picture frame of her and a very young Elijah. With the help of some of her allies, she had managed to get permission to leave the headquarters early in the morning for a supposed run-in with a patrol returning from capturing human-borns.

Irene left her apartment as it was, packed only the necessities, and did not intend to return. She had not spoken to her parents in a few weeks, already knowing their disappointment when they would discover she had fled.

A gust of snow blew at Irene's cape. She clutched it closely to her, shivering some. Her snow clothes had taken up too much room in her bag, so she had abandoned them altogether. Though she was freezing currently, it would all be worth it if things went to plan.

Since the successful siege of the military base, Lynch had been too preoccupied with counting his losses to check up on Irene again. She had spent a few short days planning a feasible escape before he could come after her. She'd told no one of what transpired, not even her allies, stating that she simply felt like Lynch would find the truth out soon and wanted to be with the rebels before that happened.

Irene was saddened to leave her post behind, but she'd done enough. The rebels had the information they needed. Now, she needed to make amends personally. There was no more hiding behind an anonymous nickname.

The sun was hidden by gray clouds as snow continued to drift with the wind. Irene's legs ached, and her snowboots were the only thing keeping her going. Otherwise, she may have stopped as soon as her feet got too wet.

Up ahead, she could see the road she had asked Cherie to meet her by. Irene guessed she was already there, upset with her for being late, but Irene could not help it. She had walked it all on foot and was simply ready to collapse.

Irene paused at the road a few moments and drew her cloak closer. She caught her breath before stepping into the woods, remembering the location she had told Cherie to meet. In the distance, she could see a line of rebel soldiers, lined with guns. Standing in front of them was Cherie in a purple snowcoat. She was rubbing her arms from the cold, though her head moved up when she saw Irene's figure approaching.

Irene kept her head down, ignoring the sound of clicking guns and shuffling feet. She had known that Cherie would not show alone, even if Irene had kept her end of the deal. For all she knew, Cherie might decide to have her shot anyway as soon as she revealed her identity.

"Who goes there?" Cherie shouted. "Are you The Tiger?"

Irene kept quiet, approaching closer and keeping her head down.

"A bit shorter than I thought," she heard a guard mumble, chuckling a bit as he said so.

"I'm The Tiger," Irene murmured, loud enough so they could hear, but no so loud that Cherie could recognize her by her voice.

"I see that for now, you've kept your end of the bargain. I'm sorry I was not able to keep mine. We had to take necessary precautions. Now...who are you? What do you have to say?" Cherie asked.

Irene took a deep breath, slowly lifting her head. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew against her, knocking the hood aside. Her face had been revealed to the crowd. She said nothing, waiting to see what Cherie's reaction would be.

Cherie said nothing at first. Her eyes widened, and she took a few steps back. The guards pointed their guns, keeping a close eye on Irene.

"N-N-No," Cherie stammered. "Y-You're The Tiger?"