Edge braced his broken nose between his hands and wrenched it back into place with a sickening crunch. He bit down hard on his arm to keep quiet while it stung and bled. A whimper escaped him.
"I heard that," Ingrid muttered. "Sounds like it hurts." She peered through a bush to spy into a frosty clearing.
She'd been watching it for a while to make sure there were no traps or ambushes waiting for them. They had been traveling off-trail for some time to avoid any unwanted attention.
"I got my nose broken by your bear Morph friend," Edge mumbled. He pinched the bridge of his nose while his eyes watered. "Of course it hurts."
The bruise on Ingrid's face panged from the memory of her own collision with Björn. "He's not my friend," she muttered. "Never was."
From what she could see from behind the bush, the meadow was empty besides a lone buck. Its breath puffed out in clouds while it grazed on clover. A worn caravan trail cut through the waist-high tallgrass, headed southbound towards the coast.
"Can I ask you something?" said Edge.
"It's a free world," Ingrid walked into the clearing to see the trail better. The buck jumped and darted away at the sight of her.
Edge pulled the horse behind him by the reins. It limped after ice buildup in its hooves injured it. Ingrid doctored the frostbite the best she could, but it wasn't in any shape to ride. They'd been walking for the last day and a half, slowing them down.
"How did you get caught up with the 'assassin' stuff?" Edge asked.
"I don't think it's your place to ask something like that," Ingrid snapped.
Edge was taken aback by the hostility. "Oh. I'm sorry if that's a sensitive subject."
"It is," she growled.
At that moment, the sounds of hoofbeats and horses echoed in the woods. A company of cavalry soldiers was racing right toward them. Before Edge could react, Ingrid tackled him to the ground behind a log.
"What'd you-!" Edge sputtered before a hand clamped over his mouth.
"Shut up!" Ingrid hissed, "We can't be seen!"
"The horse!" Edge hollered, his voice muffled behind her hand. The mare was cantering about in a frenzied state, completely exposed in the middle of the meadow.
Edge and Ingrid scrambled at the same time to get to the horse. Edge reached it first and pulled it into a kneel in the tallgrass. Hopefully, it wouldn't be spotted by the passing riders.
He had only just gotten the horse to lay down when the riders came galloping around the bend. Their gold and silver armor flashed in the sunset as they thundered past. Dirt clods flew through the air behind the horses like ash from a wildfire. The crimson and navy banners of the Western Imperial Army snapped and rippled in their wake.
The mare suddenly spooked and tried to run, but Edge wrestled it back down. The riders blew through the meadow without stopping to notice the horse-shaped depression in the tallgrass. Eventually, the thunderous stampede faded out until it was quiet again.
Edge peered up over the top of the grass. He saw Ingrid's raven hair pop up from her hiding place by the log.
"That was the Western Empire," Edge remarked.
"I know," Ingrid said back. She stood up when she was sure the riders were gone. "They were dressed for war." She glanced back at Edge. "I don't think your friends got to the king in time."
"How can you be sure? They could have just been riding through." Edge pulled the mare up, but was met with resistance. It didn't want to stand back up after walking for so long.
"No. They were in full battle armor and they were headed toward the South Kingdom." Ingrid continued through the tallgrass to the road. "Erik sometimes said he would happily wage war if it meant he could be king. I thought he was only rambling, but he might have actually done it now."
"Why would the Western Empire be helping Erik, of all people?" asked Edge.
"He's been plotting with them- Agrifistan and Snowvidia too- for years. Erik was going to take the South Kingdom's throne and wage a fantasy war against them to gain support from the people. Afterward, he would have given the three so-called enemy kingdoms a small bit of compensation," Ingrid explained. "And it would've worked, too. Erik might have been a lunatic, but he knew what he was doing."
"Still a lunatic," Edge mumbled. He finally got the horse to rise and started across the meadow. "Let's just get to your village and get this over with."
"You're going the wrong way," she scoffed. "But I guess I shouldn't blame you, lumberjack."
Edge pulled up short. "Excuse me?"
"We're supposed to be going this way." she pointed northwest toward the woods. "The Autumn Glade I'm talking about is toward the west."
"I'm pretty sure Autumn Glade is more east," said Edge, crossing his arms. "I spent three weeks logging there."
"Well, I'm 'pretty sure' I know where my own home is, and it's this way." Ingrid trekked off toward the woods.
Edge gritted his teeth. "It's getting dark. We should be breaking camp or something," he said to change the subject.
"No. Nighttime is the best time to travel," Ingrid argued. "No one will see us and we're not too far from the Glade now. It's just a few more miles this way."
Edge threw up his hands with frustration. "I don't understand your logic!"
"You don't have to!" Ingrid raised her voice. "You just have to trust me!"
"I don't trust you!" Edge cried. "Assassin!"
Ingrid looked hurt for a half-second and then she was angry again. She turned heel and stomped away into the woods fuming and growling.
"I'm sorry, but I don't!" Edge called after her, "You tried to kill Zar twice, kidnapped him, and turned him into a bird. We've been wandering through the woods for days, you just tackled me to the ground, I can't exactly find any reason I should be able to trust you. You're a bloody assassin for crying out loud!" he continued. Ingrid had already vanished from sight.
As the sun fell behind the hills, the forest turned dark and foreboding. Edge followed Ingrid's footprints until they disappeared through a creek. She obviously didn't want to be followed. The powdery aspen trees towered over him like stricken skeletons. The mare snorted nervously. Edge had to backtrack several times before he found the rest of Ingrid's tracks.
Edge finally spotted her perched high up in a tree, grinding a knife into its bark. He folded his arms and leaned against the tree to wait. She didn't look at him for a long time.
"Just because I'm an assassin doesn't mean I'm not human," Ingrid said through gritted teeth, "I've made mistakes- awful ones. I'll sort that out later, but right now I just want to save my family." She clambered down the trunk and dropped down in front of Edge. Even though she was shorter than him, she was still intimidating. "Can I trust you to help me?"
Edge exhaled slowly. "Yes, I'll help you."
Ingrid huffed in frustration. "Thank you."
"Under one condition," Edge added quickly, raising a finger. "No more stunts like tackling me to the ground or anything."
"Deal." Ingrid held out her right three-fingered hand to formally shake on the bargain. Edge hesitated for a half-moment too long, but took it and shook.
"You know," Ingrid said, brandishing the stubs of her missing fingers, "This is your friend's fault. I can't use my bow or fly anymore."
"You did try to kill him."
"I was only doing a job. Is an executioner considered a murderer because he was holding the axe?" Ingrid turned her chin up. "No, he's not."
"But you're an assassin. I'd say that's a bit different."
"Can I ask you something?" Ingrid said, mimicking his tone from before, "Does it make you uncomfortable to hold an axe or a hatchet? Or even see one that's not alive?"
Edge scoffed. "Of course not. It's like seeing a doll." Ingrid raised a quizzical brow. He struggled to explain better. "A doll isn't alive, an axe isn't alive. Just . . . don't think too hard about it."
Ingrid chuckled behind her hand.