The cave was damp and cold, its silence broken only by the faint drip of melting ice. Merle sat against the rough stone wall, her head in her hands. Her chest tightened with frustration, confusion, and betrayal. The votes had been on her side. So why had Maggie gone against the plan? Why now, when everything hinged on the phoenix feather?
Her mind replayed the moment endlessly. She had broken her own pledge for Maggie's sake, only to be blindsided. Maggie didn't understand the stakes, didn't know the weight of keeping Merle's power in check. How could she? Of all the people in the party, Merle was the most foreign to them all. The others had years of camaraderie, bonds forged through countless trials. Merle, though brilliant, was a sixteen-year-old outsider. Maybe that's why they didn't take her seriously.
But it didn't matter now. The feather was gone, consumed by Maggie's whims, and with it their best chance of saving Ray. Finding another phoenix feather wasn't impossible, but the odds were slim—a fool's hope at best.
Across the cave, Harold stirred from his long rest. His color had returned, and he moved with a renewed vigor, the faint pall of death no longer clinging to him. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice groggy but steady. "Why does it feel like I've missed something big?"
Merle tensed, her lips a thin line as Maggie avoided Harold's gaze entirely. Neither of them spoke, leaving Edward to step in with a resigned sigh.
"We found a phoenix feather but," Edward explained, his tone calm but heavy. "Maggie used it to heal you. It saved your life."
Harold's brow furrowed, his gaze shifting between the two women. Merle watched him closely, waiting for the explosion of anger she was sure would follow. Instead, Harold's expression softened, his shoulders relaxing as he turned toward Maggie.
"You okay, Maggie?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern. "The spell must've taken a lot out of you."
Maggie blinked, surprised by his reaction. She nodded silently, while Harold's gaze swept over the rest of the group.
"What about the rest of you? Everyone doing all right?"
Merle's fists tightened, nails biting into her palms. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Harold was supposed to be furious, not calmly checking in on everyone.
Before she could speak, Harold continued. "We'll head to Carmine tonight," he said firmly. "The cold will be rough, but it's better than risking an encounter with a cockatrice-or worse. We can't stay here."
The others murmured their agreement, their weariness evident. But Merle couldn't believe what she was hearing. They were giving up. Just like that, they were abandoning Ray—a child barely four years old.
Merle stood abruptly, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "You can't be serious! We're just going to leave him? Just like that?"
Harold met her gaze, his eyes tired. "It's not just like that, Merle," he said. "You know how dangerous things are now. I can't justify risking one of you—not for a chance that might not even work."
"Risk?" Merle snapped, her voice rising. "You knew there was risk when we started this mission! We all did! And now you want to turn back?"
"I'm thinking about all of you!" Harold shot back, his tone sharp. "Ray is my son, Merle, and I want to save him more than anything, but I can't—won't—lose any of you for it. I won't be that selfish."
Merle's chest heaved, her frustration boiling over. "Selfish? What about Ray? He's just a boy! How can you give up on him so easily?"
Harold's expression hardened. "This isn't up for debate. We're leaving, and that's final."
Merle glared at him, her resolve unshaken. "Fine. You can go. But I'm staying. I'll find another way, with or without you."
Before she could take a step, Harold gestured to Edward. "Help her," he ordered.
Merle barely had time to react before Edward approached, apologetic but firm. "Sorry, Merle," he said softly.
A sharp chop at her neck, and the world tilted. Her vision blurred, her knees buckling beneath her. The last thing she heard was the distant crunch of boots on the ground as the group prepared to descend the mountain.
When Merle woke, the soft light of dawn spilled over the horizon, painting the rugged terrain in muted golds and grays. The biting chill of the mountain air lingered, but the peaks themselves were now distant shadows, fading behind them.
"Good. You're awake," Harold said, his voice firm as he glanced over his shoulder. "We can start heading back now."
Merle rose up, rubbing the soreness in her neck where Edward had hit. Her eyes narrowed at Harold, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "Heading back? Are you serious?" Her voice rising. "This is kidnapping! You're literally dragging me back against my will!"
Harold stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "That'll have to wait. Right now, we need to cross the valley. Can you cast the wind spell again?"
Merle's hands clenched into fists. "Are you even listening to me? I said I'm not going back! Edward, put me down. Now."
Edward hesitated, glancing at Harold for approval. When Harold gave him a subtle nod, Edward lowered Merle to the ground. She wasted no time, brushing herself off and starting to walk in the opposite direction, her strides purposeful and defiant.
But Harold was quicker. He stepped into her path, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. "Move," she snapped, her voice firm.
Instead, he leaned down, his voice dropping to a low whisper only she could hear. Whatever he said froze Merle in her tracks. Her anger faltered, replaced by a mix of disbelief and something else—resignation, perhaps.
Her posture slumped slightly, and she let out a heavy sigh. "Fine," she muttered. "But this doesn't mean I'm happy about it."
Harold gave a curt nod and stepped aside, allowing her to rejoin the group. Maggie and Edward exchanged puzzled glances, their curiosity evident, but neither dared to question Harold directly.
The journey through the Valley of Death was as treacherous as the name suggested. Jagged cliffs loomed on either side, casting eerie shadows that seemed to shift with the wind. The air was thick with an oppressive stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.
Merle and Maggie worked together in tense silence, their combined magic flew them above the valley's dangers. Maggie's precision complemented Merle's raw power, and despite their earlier friction, the two fell into an unspoken rhythm.
Time passed, and the oppressive atmosphere of the valley began to ease as the rocky terrain gave way to softer greener lands. They made. there way back to the forest of monsters, the ancient beacon their next destination