Chapter Twenty-Seven

Sephiroth took the lead, carrying Cid over one shoulder like a farmer might carry a sack of wheat, with Jyleth and Vincent shuffling behind. Nanaki ranged out as a scout in all directions, every wary that more storm dwellers were about, as evidenced by distant threatening roars. Jyleth expected for him to announce each time he came back a storm dweller was nearly upon them, but he didn’t.

Vincent seemed to be growing steadily weaker as each minute passed, leaning more and more weight on her shoulder. The rain continued, unabated, the wind seemed be even fiercer than before, shrieking around them, occasionally adding bits of ice to the water pouring down on them. Jyleth was quickly accumulating a collection of tiny cuts where her skin was exposed and small bruises where it wasn’t. Glances at Vincent revealed a score of cuts marring his skin as well. He can’t afford to lose much more blood… she thought, hoping it wasn’t much farther to the shack. The rain was washing away most of the blood immediately, but left a residual that gave Vincent’s features an odd, rosy look.

He turned his head to look at her, catching her eyes on him. Their eyes met briefly, and the hunger Jyleth had seen before seemed to have returned ten times stronger. She gasped, stumbling a little in the mud and muck of the forest floor.

She wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. Either she had stumbled farther than she thought, or perhaps, he had finally lost his balance, but they were both suddenly sliding down an embankment. Thick, thorny bushes slowed and stopped their descent quickly. Vincent landed heavily on top of her, his face pressed against her shoulder. Jyleth took a moment to get her bearings. Vincent’s breathing was ragged, coming in quick gasps, warming her neck in short, irregular bursts. Sharp pain in her neck indicated to her that at least one or two of the thorn bushes they had fallen through had shed some thorns into her skin.

She quickly rolled Vincent off her, sitting up and trying to determine where they were. They had fallen to the bottom of a gully that was quickly filling with water. The only vegetation that hadn’t already been washed away was the thorny bushes in which they were now entangled. A movement by her side told her that Vincent was slowly attempting to get up. She glanced at him, wondering if he was too injured to get out of the gully by himself, but he seemed to have found a new reserve of strength as he shoved himself upright and started moving up the side of the trench. Reaching up to her neck to remove the thorns, she was surprised to find only two long scratches.

“Jyleth,” Sephiroth called from the top of the gully, “are you…” he didn’t finish his question, his attention suddenly drawn to something directly behind her.

“Oh, perfect,” she said, struggling and slipping to her feet, turning to see what was behind her. Strange, two-legged, serpentine figures were rising out of the brackish water at the very bottom of the gully. They appeared to be imps of some variety, but she wasn’t going to ask them which one they were. Kasume whispered out their sheathes, casually taking the heads off the two nearest creatures before they had a chance to realize she was attacking.

“Don’t bother to come down,” she shouted up at Sephiroth over her shoulder, knowing that was probably exactly what he was doing, “I’m sure they will run in a moment.” Indeed, after a few more strategic decapitations, as well as a few well-aimed shots by Vincent that literally blew the heads off the imps, they remainder of the pack decided it was time to leave and fled quickly back into the water.

“Nice shooting,” Jyleth shouted up to Vincent once the last creature had disappeared. Vincent, halfway up the gully above her, did not reply. He met her eyes very briefly, then turned his attention back to his climb. He did not make very fast process, as his injured leg was virtually useless to him. However, he did not ask for aid as he moved toward the top where Sephiroth waited. Jyleth sighed, still wondering about the strangeness of their fall in the first place, then began making her way back up to the trail.

When she reached the top, Sephiroth reached down and pulled her up, having shifted his burden of the fallen pilot to the forest floor. His eyes searched her body, looking for any serious injury. For a moment, he gazed at her neck, frowning intently at what he saw.

“What is it?” Jyleth winced as she ran her fingers on the side of her neck that he was looking at. She could feel the two long, parallel cuts there, not seriously deep, however, just enough to be messy and painful. “Stupid thorns,” she muttered, wondering is she should bother trying to heal the cuts, or just leave them be. Sephiroth’s gloved hand touched her neck, making the decision for her as he cast a minor, local cure spell to heal the wounds. He said nothing about them, but it was clear he was very irritated.

Jyleth looked around for the large cat and Vincent and saw Red dragging a long, sturdy branch to Vincent. With a meaningful look, he dropped it at Vincent’s feet. Vincent, who was leaning heavily against a tree, stared at the branch numbly for a moment before he laboriously leaned down to pick it up.

Jyleth glanced at Sephiroth after watching Vincent get a firm hold of the branch. He stood by her side, still, as if he needed to protect her from further danger. “Does he think I tried to push Vincent down?” Her question was said quietly, as she hoped only Sephiroth would be able to hear it over the noise of the storm. He shrugged, either not willing to answer while the others could possibly hear them, or not having an answer he felt was worth vocalizing. He walked back to Cid and picked him back up, ready to resume their trek.

They continued on, with Sephiroth still leading, followed by Vincent. Jyleth trained somewhat behind Vincent, somewhat lost in thought about the whole afternoon’s events and concentrating on keeping her footing. Nanaki resumed his scouting, although he did give Jyleth a wide berth every time he passed her. The storm did not particularly abate, although it did lessen and strengthen at times, given them brief respites. Finally, they arrived at the small, long-abandoned house Jyleth and Sephiroth had passed many hours before. They quickly filed in, immediately finding relief to be out of the wind and deluge. Nanaki paced to the small hearth, concentrating briefly. A small fire erupted in the charred ashes, burning seemingly on air. Sephiroth deposited Cid near the fire, glancing at it almost contemptuously.

“Do you have enough strength to maintain that?”

“Yes,” the red cat answered, defiantly. Then, after a moment, “But only for a short while.” The tail flipped several times in annoyance. Sephiroth was quiet a moment, considering the situation. Jyleth could almost read his thoughts. They needed wood to maintain the fire, which meant going back out into the storm, and there were only two people with the strength and ability who could do it. Of course, he would hardly want Jyleth to go back out in the storm, as protective as he was of her, so that left only one choice; himself. But that meant leaving Jyleth alone with three potentially very dangerous enemies.

“I will be back soon”, Sephiroth finally said, directing his attention to Jyleth. She nodded, sinking to floor in a good distance from the members of Avalanche. The long trip though the forest and the fight had truly drained her, and the fall in the gorge really hadn’t helped either. Sephiroth’s departure was quick, as he was conscious that the open door was letting in more cold air.

Jyleth swung her pack off her back and brought it to her lap, unclasping the catches. She was very aware that the red cat and Vincent were watching her guardedly, clearly not sure what she was doing. They are probably trying to figure out if I’m dangerous while I’m sitting here wondering if they are dangerous. This is would be funny if it wasn’t so scary. And perhaps, if I wasn’t so dang tired. Jyleth rummaged through her pack, finally finding the vials of cures she bought from Rynn. She pulled out several and placed them in a small, empty pouch..

“Here,” she said, tossing the small pouch of cures toward Vincent. He reached out and caught the bag with impressive speed, considering how weak he had been earlier. “They are not very strong, but I think they should help.”

Vincent and the cat exchanged a look, then Vincent upended the pouch and examined the vials. The labeling was clearly marked, and the clear, fresh green of the fluid was still apparent. Vincent chose a vial at random and opened it, took a cautious whiff, and quaffed it in one gulp. He waited expectantly, clearly expecting a result other than a cure. However, a few seconds later, the cure did take effect, healing some of his wounds and bringing a stronger light to his eyes. Vincent nodded at Red, then took the remaining vials to Cid. Jyleth returned her attention to the pack and Vincent administered the vials to Cid. She pulled out some nut bread and chocobo jerky, as well as her canteen, and did her best to pretend the other three were not in the cabin.

Sephiroth returned after about 20 minutes of scavenging. A loud crash outside the door made them all leap to their feet, except Cid, who, despite the vials of cures, had not regained consciousness. Sephiroth opened the door a moment later, carrying a large armful of soggy branches and a clearly apprehensive look on his face. The moment he saw Jyleth standing there, looking ready for battle with whatever was at the door, not the other people in the cabin, the emotion disappeared off his face, replaced by dim look of displeasure that he had been carrying since earlier that evening.

“There is more wood outside the door,” Sephiroth stated, realizing what they had interpreted the noise of him dropping the massive pile of wood he had collected outside the door before he had retrieved a more reasonable size to carry in for the fire. He strode to the fire Red was still maintaining, though the fire was little more than the size of a candle flame at that time. Sephiroth broke the larger pieces into twig size sections, then carefully piled them around the flame. The wet sticks sizzled where they touched the flame, but did not light. He next broke larger sections down, piling them around, until he had a good pile of wet wood built around the flame.

“You may stop now,” Sephiroth said, giving Red a brief look. Red nodded, extinguishing the flame and leaving the room in near darkness, lit only by the rapid flashes of lightning still coming from the storm around them. A moment later, a brilliant fire flared to life, accompanied with the shrieking of wood heating and drying at a very quick rate. After the initial flash, the fire died down to a comfortable level. Sephiroth stepped away, content with flames, then moved the rest of his armload close enough to the fire that it might dry some without catching itself. Only when he had completed that task did the turn to Jyleth, moving to stand close to her, putting himself between her and the other members of the cabin.

“You should be closer to the fire,” he said softly, his hand coming to rest on her arm. “You are soaked and cold.” Her eyes met his briefly, then flicked a glace at the others, who were watching the interchange with undisguised interest.

“You aren’t much better off,” she pointed out, feeling uneasy at their stares. She took his hand in hers, moving them both closer to the fire, but still on the opposite side of the hearth from Avalanche. Sinking to floor, Jyleth pulled him down with her, snuggling in close to him, despite his quiet protest that he was soaking. She was cold, and when he pointed it out, she had realized it even more. She was cold, wet, tired, and filthy. And she really wanted nothing more than the be alone with him, preferably some place dry, warm, and clean, with this storm passing over their heads with such fury and violence that it shook the walls continually. Sephiroth pulled his cloak over her, as the inside had some semblance of warmth from his own body, and she quickly found herself nodding off to sleep, despite the uncomfortable surroundings.

“Jyleth,” a voice whispered in her ear. She started awake, still tangled in Sephiroth’s cloak. “We must go,” he continued as she looked around for the members of Avalanche. They were all clustered together on the other side of the cabin, very still. The fire was still burning, though it was more coals than flame now.

Sephiroth stood, pulling her up with him. Jyleth looked closer at the still bodies and realized they were all breathing, though very deeply and slowly. As if someone had set a sleep spell on them. She looked back to Sephiroth, read his tightly masked features, and realized, that was exactly what someone had done to the them.

Someday, she thought to herself with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. I’m going to take that sleep materia and throw it in the ocean. Then what will he do? Sephiroth handed her pack to her, and she grimaced at the cold, wet feel of the leather. She slid the back in place, muffling her body’s need to moan at the feel of the cold back against her very warm and dry back. Outside, the storm had passed, leaving only the sounds of a peaceful forest behind. Birds were calling and chirping, clearly happy that the storm had passed and they had survived it. It had been morning when the storm had blown in, and early afternoon when they had arrived at the cabin, though the storm had made it seem much, much later in its pitch-black ferocity. Now it seemed to be late evening. The light coming through the windows was a muted orangy-pink, which promised a glorious sunset.

They slipped out of the cabin as soundlessly as they could, though the sleep spell probably would have held the three exhausted Avalanche members slumbering even if they had stomped around and slammed the door. Outside, the sky was lit brilliantly in hues of pink and orange, very much the sunset that Jyleth had expected. Sephiroth set out away from the cabin without speaking a word, and she followed him, glancing once more back at the cabin.

I wonder what they will think when they wake up? Will they even have realized that a sleep spell had been set on them In a way, she regretted having to leave them before they had really gotten a chance to speak with them, but in another, she realized this was the best way to leave things. Given a chance, the members of Avalanche would probably have decided they were obligated to capture Sephiroth and bring him to Cloud. Or they might even decide to take matters into their own hands and attempt to kill Sephiroth themselves. In retrospect, when they woke, they would probably think some sort of coercion spell had been used on them to keep them from doing just that this morning. It would be easy of them to forget or dismiss their exhaustion from the fight as the reason they had not attempted to do so.

And certainly they would never admit that Sephiroth and I saved them, oh no, not that, she thought without some bitterness. Then again, there was the possibility that the rescue would sit at the back of their minds, nagging at their prejudices until they were forced to reconsider their opinions.

Sephiroth didn’t say a word to her as they moved out of the forest into the canyon area. The sun set brilliantly, succeeded in the clearing sky by a bright moon, yet he continued to pick he way among the rocks without speaking to her. Finally, as the moon was nearly at zenith, he stopped at a sheltered ledge. Jyleth immediately sat down on a rock, feeling more worn than she had when they had arrived at the cabin.

“I could really use a good night’s rest in a real bed,” she said. He glanced at her, his expression now unreadable. “But rocks will do,” she added with a smile.

“That was a very unwise thing to do today,” he finally said, removing his pack and untying the blanket they used to sleep on. He spread it out of a rock, frowning at its clearly sodden state.

“Which thing?” Jyleth asked innocently.

“Perhaps I should get a leash,” he muttered.

“A what?” Sephiroth ducked the fist-sized rock that came flying at him. Jyleth was on her feet, glaring him down.

“I cannot protect you if you run off and-“

“Protect me?” Jyleth interrupted, “since when did I need your protection? I’m not some weak, simpering, girl!”

“But you are…” he said, gesturing at her stomach.

“I’m pregnant, yes,” she said, feeling her ire rise any more. “But I’m not an invalid!”

Sephiroth opened his mouth to reply to her, then stopped. He took a deep breath, then tried again. “Jyleth, I have never believed you are, as you say, an invalid. However, that child – our child – is so important. I can’t…”

Jyleth stepped forward and put her hand on his cheek, her anger evaporating. “It’s ok, Sephiroth, but you have let me live. I am not made of glass.”

“At least promise me you will not take unnecessary risks,” he said.

“I’ll do my best,” she promised. She then took a deep breath, looking away from him for a moment. “Sephiroth, I am tired and worn to the bone, but that’s not a good reason to have yelled at you,” she said.

The sound of a soft laugh made her look back at him. “Did you just apologize to me?” He asked, his eyes alight with amusement.

“Yes, and you could have the grace to accept it without laughing at me!” She couldn’t help but laugh, too. “Alright, so we were both idiots, very tired idiots, and I think it’s time we get our idiot selves to sleep.” Sephiroth’s arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace, his lips seeking her mouth to show the apology was accepted and mutual.