Of all the things that could add to my odd situation, Micah’s unfailingly caring protection was the oddest.
His eyes watched my every move, tracking for any possible sense of threat, small or large - from pricking my finger on a thorn to encountering a dangerous animal. At first thought, this made no sense. Why should he care? - I was the cause of all his problems - but after much consideration it was enough to make my throat feel tight and my heart throb with the sincere kindness of it all.
Because, after all, it was simple to see that Micah loved me, very much so. There was no other conclusion I could come to. But in what ways did his love extend? Friendship, commitment, attraction, unconditional?
He loved me enough to keep me alive, and that alone seemed like a difficult task.
The forest did not provide us with a very healthy diet. Wild mushrooms and less-than-perfect fruit was the most he could find, not that I blamed him in the slightest. He seemed to have a good idea of how to tell the different between poisonous and edible fruit, not that the rare items he did pick weren’t bruised or rotted or already partly-eaten by the other woodland creatures.
I was eager to help in any way that I could. I tried digging for clay in the ground to make a bowl to carry water in, and I even tried gathering pine needles to soften our beds at night. My attempts were hopeless, but they did manage to give Micah something to smile at.
“We’ll be fine, Azalea,” he promised me each time I got discouraged at my lack of wilderness skills, and afterwards I would flush in pleasure at the use of my new name.
And though I didn’t mention it aloud, Elijah's superstitious accusation gave me chills. How could someone like me be something so pure and perfect? When all of those people looked me in the eyes after that council meeting, the secret must have put me in new light. Not that I could ever think of myself that way. But Micah always spoke of this topic with a light, humorous tone, so I tried my best to ease the thought and concentrate on what would happen next for us.
It wasn’t until several nights later, however, that he decided to share his plans with me.
“Well, it’s obvious that we’re not welcome in the forest anymore,” he said, frowning. “There’s nowhere we could go without the risk of being found. But Lexington isn’t far from here, and if we travel four or five miles a day, we might - ”
“Lexington,” I interrupted. The word sounded familiar, but it didn’t trigger any memories. Just the sound of the word, the name of the place.
“Yes,” Micah said. “It’s the only place I could think of that we could travel to on foot. Either that, or maybe Ashburgh.”
“Ashburgh,” I repeated thoughtfully, and Micah looked up at me from the pile of firewood he was carrying. His cheeks were suddenly flushed with overexcitement.
“Do you remember anything?”
I shook my head slowly. “Just the name. I think I’ve heard it before.”
He looked slightly disappointed, but still determined. “Don’t worry, Azalea. Your memory will come back sooner or later, and it’ll be much easier for our travel when it does.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How could it help?”
“Well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? I’ve got to take you back home.”
My jaws dropped. “Why?”
He looked confused. “Isn’t that what you were going on about when you first arrived here? ‘Let me go, I need to go home?’ ”
“Yes,” I admitted stiffly. “But that was because - ”
“You were afraid we would hurt you,” he finished for me, chuckling. “And see what became of that!”
I laughed dryly, but my heart was still thumping heavily in my chest. Why would I want to go ‘home,’ when I couldn’t remember anything about it? Where would I live? And how could we manage to find the right place, anyway?
And - though a strong cloud of doubt washed over at the very thought - what if I really was what Chief Anali believed me to be? Not that I’d admit the actual word to myself, but there was definitely something suspicious about my sudden appearance in the middle of the forest. There had to be an explanation…
“Azalea?” Micah asked softly. “Are you alright? You look pale.”
I nodded. “I think I’ll try to find that apple tree you spotted yesterday. I’m getting hungry.” And the loud groan that escaped from my near-empty stomach seconded the notion.
“Alright,” he said, frowning. “Just be careful, alright? And don’t stray too far.”
But I had already started walking, trying my hardest to concentrate on finding dinner so that the other thoughts couldn’t find their way back.
“Azalea!” Micah shouted, his face streaked with terror. He was waving frantically in my direction, but my feet were frozen to the ground. I searched the empty plain in panic, recognized Chief Anali’s figure as he approached a dozen yards away. And behind him came a long group of warriors, every one of them armed with weapons.
“Azalea!” Micah called again, his voice nearer. He was sprinting toward me, reaching out, both arms extended…I could feel the sudden rush of wind as he grasped me so tightly against his chest. I felt safe there.
And then his body crumpled, limp and supportless. I struggled under his weight, shoving him back to his feet, but he fell regardless. There was an arrow in his neck, and a steady flow of blood was trailing down his skin.
“No!” I screamed, thrashing as I looked up. The warriors were still advancing, and Elijah’s face was hostile and deadly.
“Azalea!” Micah’s face was clearer, now, and I tried my hardest to fight the subconscious memories. He was gone, now…Micah, all gone…
“Azalea, wake up!”
I was still trembling on the earth, but something had changed. Micah was no longer an unanimated corpse, frozen and cold beside me. Instead, he was above me, looking anxious. And we were shaded by a group of trees, and the sun was shining bleakly through its branches…so I had been dreaming after all.
I shuddered, reaching out to throw my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder. “Micah, I had the worst dream.”
He pulled me to my feet. “I thought you'd never wake up, you've been asleep for twelve hours. You missed breakfast." He dropped a withered crab apple into my palm, and I winced.
“I’m not hungry.”
"Azalea, it was a dream," he told me firmly. "The bogey man is gone, okay? Snap out of it."
“I know,” I insisted, nodding. “I’m just not hungry."
“Okay,” he said, sighing. “But we need to get a move on, I think I heard voices nearby earlier this morning. I would have waken you up, but then they stopped, and I didn’t want to frighten you.”
My eyes widened. “You heard voices?”
He wrapped his arm protectively around my waist. “They won’t find us, Azalea, calm down. We just need to take caution.”
My throat felt too tight; I silently gathered our meager food supplies and waited for him to pack up.
Even with my optimistic attitude, I knew we weren’t going to last long by our current conditions. Our only belongings besides the crab apples were a few last-minute gatherings Micah had thought to pack before-hand: a wooden dagger, a few worn blankets, a compass, and an ancient-looking ring.
“I stole this before I left,” he’d admitted sheepishly. “It’s antique, but it's worth a fortune, and once we get to Lexingburgh we can barter for food and clothing.”
Oh, what I wouldn’t give for one night at an inn. For a bowl of warm broth, or a loaf of freshly-baked bread, or a new gown that wasn’t caked in dirt, rainwater, and sweat. The entire bottom of my dress was ripped off to allow easier movement, but it was still very formal and out-of-place in the middle of the forest.
Up until this night’s incident, I’d spent every night dreaming up wonderful images. Roasted turkey, a new night gown, a bar of soap. Simple favors, but it was impossible to forget my burning desire for everyday essentials as time wore on.
Then again, it wasn’t every day you wound up in the middle of nowhere with nothing to eat and no future planned ahead for you. I should think of this more as an adventure. An opportunity.
“Maybe we should stop for a rest,” Micah suggested timidly after three hours of travel. “Your face is really flushed.”
“No,” I protested. “I’m fine. Let’s keep going.”
“Okay, but at least stop for a drink…”
I waved him away. “Quit treating me like a baby.”
He frowned. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“I can look out for myself,” I insisted. “Come on, we’ve got to keep moving.”
He rolled his eyes, but didn’t press the argument. In truth, though, I was more than ready to call it a day. My legs were so sore that with another hour or so, they might be numb. And the most infuriating part was how easily Micah plowed through the brambles and tree branches, as though it were second-nature. I, however, tripped over everything and startled often at the sight of wasps or twisted vines that looked suspiciously like pythons. Micah’s only difficulty was trying to stifle his laughter when this happened.
I looked up at the sky - now tinged with a soft kind of orange, the sun low in the sky - and I couldn’t figure out if it was late in the afternoon or early in the morning. Just as I was contemplating this, however, my foot broke through a cover of branches, and I was plummeting through the ground.
“Azalea!” Micah shouted, rushing to the edge of the hole and peering down frantically. “Are you alright?”
Groggily, I reached my hand upward. My head felt faint; it must have made impact against the bottom.
“Yes,” I said, my voice slurred somehow.
In an instant, he had shrugged down into the gap and was at my side, lifting me into his arms with a grunt.
“Micah!” I shouted, kicking my legs at his chest. “Put me down!”
“Shh!” he hissed, clamping a hand over my mouth. He dropped to his feet in a low crouch, and after a moment I heard what must have alerted him: soft chattering, far in the distance.
“ - don’t know, it didn’t sound like a bear - ”
“ - might have been over there, I think I saw something move - ”
My eyes widened as I took in the approaching danger. Hunters, from the village, and no doubt armed with weapons to kill any unsuspecting animal. Everything had happened so fast; it couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds ago when we were strolling along through the forest.
How much time did we have before they discovered us, trapped in the earth? Or, even worse - the thought made my throat clench painfully - how much time to live?
But, amazingly, the voices seemed to be drifting away.
“ - didn’t hear anything, must have been your imagination - ”
“ - no, I swear, I heard some kind of cry. Must have been some weird bird - ”
Micah’s eyes were just as wide as mine, but his pupils were slowly dilating in relief. He didn’t speak for several minutes, in which we waited in complete silence.
“I think they’re gone,” he whispered in my ear, and his rancid breath fanned across my face. “Wait a minute, let me check. Be very still.”
I nodded, and watched with a fearful gaze as he rose slowly and searched the perimeter.
“Safe,” he declared, reaching down and lifting me into his arms again. This time, I let him.
“That was close,” I said, aware of a strange pain behind my left ear.
“Too close,” he agreed in a solemn tone. “Hang on, I’ve got to get you out of here. Can you stand on my shoulders?”
Nervous, I placed my filthy feet on either side of his head. He winced slightly, but waited for me to climb onto a patch of dirt before he hauled himself up after me.
“Good thing you fell,” he said, smirking. "I suppose your bad luck isn't so bad after all."
“Micah,” I said, still in a hushed tone, “what was that?”
He frowned apologetically. “A trap.”
“How awful,” I gasped, imagining an innocent deer wandering across the hole instead. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat meat ever again.”
He chuckled softly, but it was breathless and ragged, still in shock. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that anymore. We’re stuck with crab apples.”
My own laughter was weaker than his. The pain had grown worse.
“Micah,” I said hesitantly, afraid to make him worry, “I think - I think I hit my head.”
Before I could blink, he’d twisted behind me and was examining the damage.
“Ouch,” he sighed, lightly brushing his thumb behind my ear. I jerked away, gasping in pain, and he bit his lip.
“You’re bleeding,” he admitted. “It’s not too deep, though. Hang on a second.”
He rummaged around in the burlap sack, then pulled out one of the worn blankets and the canteen of water. I watched as he ripped a strip of cloth from the blanket, then doused it in water and dabbed it lightly against the cut. The sudden coolness was a relief to the burning sensation, and I tried to sit still.
“Let’s take it easy,” he sighed. “I think we've used up our quota of death risks for the day."
“Fine,” I grumbled in what I hoped was a pouting gesture, but I willingly crawled onto my side and waited for the aching to subside before I fell asleep.
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