24. Colt

Fire filled Colt's dreams until he could smell the smoke. He looked around to find a building burning with purple fire, and Owen was trapped inside, staring at him from the window. Colt ran to the building, but his feet were sluggish, and by the time he looked back up at the window, he found Owen gone.

He jerked awake from his dream and blinked as he looked up at the ceiling. Then he glanced over, relieved when he saw Owen beside him in the bed, his head still on his arm as he curled up against Colt's side.

Colt let out a heavy sigh and rested his free arm over his head. He didn't want to go back to sleep, not after dreaming about Owen trapped within his own fire. The dreary morning light streamed in through the window, and the cold air seeped in. Colt got up from the bed to relieve himself, then he built up the fire in the hearth. As he came back to the bed, Owen sat up and rubbed his face.

"You can go back to sleep if you want," Colt told him. He grabbed his trousers and pulled them on. "I'll go get us some food and see if Brom and Gilda are about."

"I should go with you." Owen moved to get out of the bed, but Colt stood in front of him.

"I think I can handle going down to the mess hall by myself."

"And you and I both know that Rem could be lurking anywhere." Owen looked at him pointedly.

"Just… keep the door locked. I won't be long."

"Over fifteen minutes and I'm coming down there."

Colt let out a laugh. "Alright, Owen." He pulled his boots on, then kissed Owen's cheek. "I'll be back."

He left and made his way downstairs to the mess hall. Colt tried not to draw attention to himself, which wasn't hard, since he seemed to blend in with the other men eating breakfast. There weren't many patrons awake yet, or either there just weren't many travelers.

After Colt put in an order for food, he sat at the bar, glancing around for Brom and Gilda. One look out the window showed him a blanket of snow amid the dreary morning sky. After about fifteen minutes of people coming in and out of their rooms, he got their food and took it upstairs.

Owen opened the door for him and let him in before locking it again. They sat on the bed together and ate eggs, sausage, and some type of gravy. It was a good meal, one that warmed Colt's stomach and eased the worry in his mind.

Their day of rest was much needed after all they had endured, and to pass the time as they waited for Gilda and Brom, they played cards at the table. By lunch, Owen went out to get them food, and they ate before the hearth to stay warm. With the snow draft building outside, Colt was glad they had reached the inn in time. Despite his worry for Brom and Gilda, he savored this moment with Owen, and for one day, he felt almost normal.

But it dawned on him, as he sat with Owen before the fire and looked through his folklore book, that there never would be a normal for them. With the Legion constantly on the lookout for him, with Hunters wanting him for their own gain, Owen would have to continue to run and hide his entire life.

This hurt Colt's heart in a way that made him slump sideways and rest his head against his lover. It would be exhausting, but Colt would do it for however long it took to keep Owen safe.

"What's wrong?" Owen asked, laughing. "Is this too boring?"

Colt sat up and looked at him, his forehead creasing. "No, it's not boring. Guess I'm just comfortable. This is nice."

Owen smiled, then closed his book and got up to place it on the table. Then he held his hand out and helped Colt to his feet.

"I'm a little tired," Owen said. "Want to sleep with me?" He smiled crookedly.

"Yes." Colt grabbed Owen's waist and kissed him, but then a commotion from downstairs broke them apart, and they were suddenly serious, both of them flying to the door.

"Wait, wait." Colt cracked the door open and peeked out to see a few people in the hallway coming out of their rooms. He held a finger up to Owen before going out in the hall with the others. One glance down the stairs confirmed four Legion soldiers swarming the mess hall.

Colt's stomach dropped. Quietly, he made his way back down the hall and to their room. When he came inside and closed the door, his hand tightened on the doorknob as he looked at the floor, wondering how they would get out of this.

"What is it?" Owen asked.

"Legion soldiers. Four of them." He glanced up at Owen, whose eyes widened. "They know we're here."

They both rushed to gather their bags, then they packed up their blankets and other clothes. As Owen sat on the bed to tug his boots on, Colt pulled on his coat, and when he saw how upset Owen looked, he said, "Hey, we'll make it out of here, alright?"

"And then what? Let them follow us into Vanhelm?" Owen leaned his arms on his legs and rubbed a hand down his face, looking defeated.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Let's just get out of here first."

Nodding, Owen got up and pulled on his coat and hat.

Colt opened the door at the end of the hall that led outside and went first. He peered around but saw no one, so he made his way down the wooden steps, and Owen followed close behind. When all was clear, they stole away behind the buildings, darting through the alleys.

Icicles hung from the roofs of buildings, and the ground crunched as Colt stepped on the snow. As he threw up the hood of his cloak, he recalled the time Owen put on a dress in Edgewater, when they needed to slip out of the town in disguise to escape Rhielle.

"Too bad we don't have a dress for you to wear," he muttered. "You could be my wife again."

"Or I could just be your husband," Owen whispered, and when Colt turned and looked at him, he caught Owen's glowing grin.

Owen's words faltered him, but Colt didn't have time to respond. Instead, he grabbed his hand, and they made their way out of the alley and into a crowd of people, which surprised him, as freezing as it was.

Then he saw why. Ahead of the crowd were four Legion guards in steel breastplates that bore the golden image of a Core. Between them was a large gray wolf, leashed around its collar and being held back.

"Is that a Horwolf?" someone in the crowd asked.

The wolf sniffed the air. When its eyes found Owen, its gray fur bristled. It growled, showing sharp teeth, and two of the guards looked over at it. Other people began to move away now, clearing the area.

A man dressed in black emerged from the soldier's file. Pinned on the left side of his chest was the emblem of a gold Core.

Colt clenched his teeth, and his gloved hand squeezed Owen's, ready to run.

So far on their journey through Avathon, they had been fortunate not to have crossed paths with a Core Wielder. But now here one stood, seemingly unaware of their presence in the crowd but looking for them all the same.

The Horwolf snarled as it tried to run forward, and the people in the crowd gasped, many of them turning to leave.

"Let the wolf loose," the Wielder demanded, turning to the Legion guard.

There was little time to get away before the man reached down to unhook the leash, but the people spreading away helped them ease out of the crowd and down a back alley, where they cut through to the field behind the town.

When Colt glanced back, he saw the Horwolf running after them. His heart pounding, he unhooked his bow from his bag and swiped an arrow from his quiver. He aimed for the wolf as he lined the arrow against his string.

The creature neared them, big and snarling, but before he could let the arrow fly, it was attacked by something else.

Colt stumbled back as he blinked at the scene. Another familiar-looking animal had bit the wolf's neck, and now the two were engaged in a bloodthirsty fight.

Clove was smaller than the Horwolf, but she attacked with the strength of a pack, relentless in giving up, even when the bigger wolf threw her to the ground. She yelped, but then was back on her feet again to attack. Her sharp teeth sank into the gray wolf's jugular, and the animal fell to the ground. Though still alive, the Horwolf seemed dented at least, no longer able to walk upright.

Looking over, Colt eyed Owen, and they both stepped back as Clove stared at them, baring her bloody teeth at them.

Swallowing hard, Colt lined his arrow up against the string of his bow. If Owen wouldn't kill this animal, he would. Clove—Gypsy—had been the reason the Hunter was able to find them so easily every time. What hunter didn't use a mutt to find his prey?

"Colt, don't," came Owen's voice.

"She'll just keep finding us again and again if I don't!"

"But she just helped us!"

The sound of galloping horses echoed nearby, and when Colt glanced up, he saw four Legion soldiers riding right for them.

Fire erupted from Owen's right hand, spiraling right for the riders, and they scattered as the flames reached them. Another man held up a crossbow, aiming for Colt, but Owen put up his hands, and the horse toppled, throwing its rider to the ground.

As the other three riders approached, Clove snapped at the horses, spooking them, and one of the soldiers jumped off his horse and ran at them with his sword drawn. Colt released the arrow from his bow and shot the man through his leg. The man cried out, and Colt swiftly pulled another arrow from his quiver to send it flying through his chest.

His eyes darted to one of them wielding a crossbow, and he dodged the arrow just before raising his bow and shooting the archer. The man fell off his horse, the arrow punctured into his right shoulder.

That left one last soldier, who had gotten off his horse and held a brass Core in his hand. There were lines etched into its metal, but the lines didn't glow blue, marking this Core an older model, and the man its Wielder.

"By order of the Legion, you two are to be detained and taken in!" The Wielder's voice was shaky. His comrades were already down. He knew he was next, yet he didn't want to go down without a fight. He seemed unsure of what to do, attack them with his Core or just threaten them with it.

But neither Colt nor Owen attacked him. Instead, Clove lunged towards the man's leg and bit down ferociously. The Wielder cried out in agony, then hit Clove's snout with the hilt of his Core. She yelped but continued to attack the man, who screamed as she took no mercy on him.

Owen grabbed Colt's hand and bolted, and after minutes of running, the sound of hooves thudded behind them, and Colt wondered if the Wielder had gotten away from Clove long enough to mount his horse and come after them.

"Need a ride?" someone called out.

I know that voice.

Whirling around, Colt's eyes widened as he took in Brom atop the horse, slowing down enough to pull up beside them. Looking over, he found Gilda on the other horse. Brom held out a hand, and Owen grabbed it, swinging his leg upward and sitting in the saddle behind him. Then Colt climbed up behind Gilda, and they charged the horses out of town.

They galloped away until they came to a copse of trees, where they dismounted and slipped into the woods to stop and rest. They stood around a cluster of rocks, panting as they tried to catch their breath.

Clove didn't seem to have followed them, which meant the wolf was possibly on her way back to Rem, no doubt to share their position. But Colt couldn't deny she had helped them get away.

Owen ran his hands through his hair, his face full of fear, and when Colt tried to take his hand, Owen flinched away.

"Are you angry with me?" Colt asked.

"I had the situation handled," Owen shot out, his voice shaking. "You shot down two men!"

"Hey!" Colt grabbed Owen's shoulders and turned him around, peering down at him until their eyes locked. "I'm gonna do anything to make sure you stay alive."

"I don't want you to end up dead because you took risks for me. You've already taken so many risks for me, Colt. I'm tired of all of you risking your life for me!" Owen's face reddened as he looked back at Brom and Gilda.

"That's not your choice to make." Colt licked his lips and drew in close, his breath steadier as he said, "The risk is mine to take and I will choose to take it every time."

Owen hung his head, heaving a shaky sigh, and wrapped his arms around Colt's waist. Relieved, Colt pulled him against his chest, and for a moment, they stood quiet amid the trees, with only the sound of falling snow surrounding them.

When Colt looked over to find Brom and Gilda fidgeting awkwardly, he cleared his throat. "Um… thanks for coming to our aid."

"Oh, it was no problem at all." Gilda waved her hand. "It's not like we've been traveling for days in the cold and snow, stole an extra horse, and charged at Legion soldiers. But please, you two continue."

Laughing, Owen sniffed and shook his head. He rushed to her and wrapped her in a giant hug, "I'm sorry." He looked over and smiled at Brom. "I'm glad you're both safe. You came in the nick of time."

Brom stepped forward and squeezed Owen's shoulder affectionately. "I'm glad we made it, but we need to keep moving. So, scout, now that we're back together, lead the way." Brom gestured towards the horses, and Owen nodded and grinned.

Gilda pulled her bag and other belongings off the saddle. "Actually, we should send the horses on. If they"re found, it'll make the Wielders wonder which direction we went. Besides, we'd stand out even more with them."

"Honestly, I can't help but wonder why we don't just keep them, we seem to always need them," Brom said.

"One, they're too much upkeep." Gilda put one of her fingers out. "Two, there's too much weight for them to bear two of us at a time."

"And three?" Brom crossed his arms, waiting.

"Three, them carrying our baggage only contributes to you buying more cookware."

"Now I don't—"

Gilda put up a hand, stopping him. Her heavy sigh came out white into the frigid air as she glanced at Owen and Colt and said, "He's acquired two more pots since leaving Ivormor. I don't know where they came from, but we can no longer carry them. And we're not taking the horses."

She stomped away, and as Brom followed behind her quietly, Colt muttered, "Tally for me."

"I heard that!" Brom called.

After sending the horses on their way, Owen led them through the trees at a quick pace. But even with the Legion soldiers taken care of for now, there were still Hunters to be wary of, and Rem would continue to search for Owen. And then there was the wolf. Clove found them, and even helped them out, but now she was gone again, no doubt running back to her owner. How long before she led the Hunters to Owen once more?

Along the way, Owen filled Gilda and Brom in on what had happened: that Rem had captured him and taken him to Quinnby's tavern, that Quinnby had tried to Cleanse him, but Owen killed the man, and that Rem knew Owen was Shadowborn. Both of them picked up their pace after talking about it.

As they continued on, Owen took one of his shirts and tore off large strips of it to leave in various places so as to divert Clove from his path. Hopefully, the wolf would smell the clothing and track the fabric rather than Owen. As much as Colt knew Owen wanted to spare the animal, if she found them again, Colt would have no choice but to take her down.

They emerged from the wood around late afternoon, and by then, the snow had returned. When the sky darkened, they noticed a farm in the distance, with several buildings spread about the land. There was a windmill in the field, and they made their way to it.

Finding it locked, Colt sighed in frustration. They would have to break in or brace for a night in the snow.

When Owen placed his hand on the doorknob and closed his eyes, Colt watched intently, wondering what he was doing. Then something in the knob ticked, and the door opened.

Brom clicked his tongue, surprised. "You'd have made an excellent thief, Owen."

Owen chuckled. "I learned it from Gilda."

She patted his shoulder as they made their way inside and closed the door behind them. The windmill was far from a cozy place, but it would help them pass the night out of the cold. It was hard to see, but Colt pulled out their food, and they ate bread and cheese with apple slices and chased it down with water.

"No doubt the Legion will check every village and inn they come across, and if not them, then the Hunters will," Gilda said.

"Then we'll need to stay in places like this," Owen replied.

As they settled close together, Brom sat against the wall and took a deep breath. He didn't seem as in pain as he had been before, but he still looked uncomfortable.

"Owen, are you missing a tooth?" Gilda looked at him curiously in the light of their lantern.

Owen looked from her to Brom, who cocked his head to look. "Yes… Quinnby hit me. I'm sure it looks terrible."

"What a jackass," she muttered, then shook her head. "It looks fine, dear, nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yes, it could be worse." Brom winced as he tried to pop his back. "You could be down for a whole two days because of injured ribs."

"Wait, you guys didn't leave the inn for two days?" Colt asked.

"I was in a lot of pain. Gilda even paid a healer who happened to be traveling south to look at it for me. He told me it wasn"t severe."

Colt's brow popped up, and he looked over at her in surprise.

"What?" She glowered. "He couldn't get up! I was annoyed."

"Annoyed, huh?" Brom smirked. "That's what it was."

"Well, if I left you there without help to go find Owen and Colt, then all of us would have ended up lost. It was better for me to stick with you and search for Owen's energy. And good thing I hired the healer, because Brom still would have been groaning in that bed over bruised ribs!"

Brom threw her a dirty look. "It hurts a lot more than you'd think, you know. Once I get to walking, it's not bad." He winced as he shifted. "It's the sitting and laying down that's painful."

When they heard a sound outside, they went still, but when Colt got up to look, he found the wind howling against the window, knocking a rake against the wall. Snow blew fiercely, and he closed the door.

"Just the wind," he said.

Sighing, Gilda said, "We're all uneasy, and I know we can't sense Rem… but I don't sense anyone else coming at the moment."

"We won't be able to stop for long, no matter where we go." Owen closed his eyes.

"Which makes me wonder," Brom cut in, "where we need to go now. What is our plan?" He looked at each of them seriously.

Colt already knew the answer. The shadow man had spoken to Owen, telling him to head to Vanhelm. Now it was up to him whether he wanted to tell Gilda and Brom about it all. When Owen looked up at him, his eyes searching, Colt nodded.

Taking a breath, Owen sat straight and said, "I was told that we need to travel to Vanhelm, that the Hunters won't follow us into the region."

Gilda leaned forward. "Did you meet someone else on the Silent Road?"

"No…" Owen looked at his hands, then said, "I… have been seeing an entity, a spirit, for quite some time. It appears only to me, but it's aided and encouraged me many times." He looked up at Gilda and Brom, and Colt caught their surprised expressions.

"This spirit told me to go to Vanhelm," Owen finally said.

"Oh." Brom nodded his head, blinking for a moment before clearing his throat. "Well, that is certainly… a revelation, Owen."

Gilda's face softened in the dim light. "Do you think we can trust this spirit?"

"Yes." Owen smiled faintly. "I really do. I can feel it."

"Alright, then we'll go."

Brom choked on the water he was drinking from his waterskin. "Into Vanhelm?"

"Rem may still think we're going to Merrowcrest, it would throw him off if we went to Vanhelm instead," she said.

Brom shook his head. "What makes you think he won't track us all the way down there?"

"He may not suspect we would go there at all. Do you have any other ideas?" Colt stared at him.

"Other than listening to spirits?" Brom chuckled, then he sighed and looked down. "I'm sorry, Owen. I forget myself. That this is your plight, and I have decided to come along. But now I'm rather attached to you all, so I will do what you feel is best. You're our scout, after all." He grinned, and Owen smiled back tiredly. "Just remember that the region's haunted."

Gilda sniffed. "Honestly, after enduring what we have with Wielders and Hunters, I'd risk my chances with ghosts."

"The graveyard is in Vanhelm," Owen said. "It's the final resting ground for those who fought in the battles between Aleana and Mordren. Thousands of people lost their lives. That's why it's so haunted. I've heard and read nothing grows in Vanhelm, that the region is wasting away into the sea and the quakes are common down there. But there is no Legion. I don't want to go there, but if it means escaping, then I will."

They all nodded silently, acknowledging he was right.

"Then that's what we'll do," Brom said. "We'll head south for Vanhelm."

"Good," Gilda said. "I'm laying down now. And don't worry about Rem, Owen. I swear to you, that should we cross paths with him again, I'll have no trouble spilling his insides onto the dirt while he's still alive, crying and begging for mercy as I twist his organs around his neck until he chokes."

Colt glanced at Brom and Owen, and all their mouths dropped open.

Then Gilda gave a little laugh before she moved to her pallet. "Goodnight, boys."