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"You may get that information when we get to where we are going," he answered, but made no move or change and apparently would not until Kitty and Shaska surrendered their coins.

She hadn't expected much success bartering her coins, but actually having them taken from her hurt a great deal. Citizens weren't allowed to help without a coin in trade. Now, if Kitty needed anything, she had nothing to offer. Who would risk the fines—or even imprisonment—to help someone as useless as herself? They wouldn't. She knew that even with a full purse her chances of finding someone likely to help her would be small unless she encountered someone with a truly soft heart. She wasn't a good gamble. Hadn't she been told that enough times before?

It didn't matter now, anyway.

They were going to die here. Slightly different from Charles, but the end result was the same.

Numb fingers dug out her coin purse and tossed it forward. It wasn't a good throw, and the coins spilled out when the deep blue pouch bounced against the ground. Her bleary eyes recognized the flashes of silver as one or two rolled across the bridge. Too late now.

It was over.

Cassandra had hoped, wished, believed that the man would have some small part inside of him that remained compassionate. An inkling of decency untainted by greed. But the clinking of Kitty's coins joining the pile rang hollow, another defeat topping the mountain of this terrible situation.

She had to look away from the growing pile, awaiting further instructions from the monster. The anger of injustice boiled hot within her, with no outlet to let loose. It was over now, nothing more to do than give in to the cruelty of these men.

If this was a story with a real hero, that hero would come racing in right now, just in the nick of time. They would vanquish the villains and restore those precious coins to their rightful owners with a charming grin and words of inspiring encouragement.  

But she was the hero of this story.

And she had utterly failed.

Shashka


She hit the dirt with a thud, the smell of dust flooding her nostrils. Scrabbling on her hands and feet she scurried away from the man until she was behind the others, her back turned, she let them form a protective wall against her and the brutes. Snot bubbled out of her nose as she cried like a child, taking big, gulping sobs.

The group was going back and forth trying to negotiate, but it seemed the men still wanted her coin. She didn't hesitate. Ripping it from her belt she flung it toward them. She didn't want the coins anymore. She didn't want this cloak, this quest, or the star; didn't want anything but to go the hell back home, away from the sight of blood and the stench of death.

Her stomach roiled as she thought of the boy who had been shot. It played through her head in snippets - him and the others showing up, the arrow fired, then the boy on the ground. She tried to calm herself, grasping her arms with her hands and digging in her nails, just to feel something other than this overwhelming fear. They got what they wanted, now she prayed they would leave her alone.

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With a nod, Torvald hastened forward and picked up the purses from one stack, then another. He straightened and backed up, nodding to the smaller man. "There. Now you two are free to be on your way, just as discussed. Don't pick up the coins that rolled." he turned back to Cassandra and Saphira, "Grab your dead and let's get going."

Torvald kept them in sight as he walked backwards behind the other man. The smaller of the pair turned and walked away, his back to them, muttering something to himself as he looked at the blood staining the arm of his shirt, keeping the bow pulled as he did so.

Her head throbbed with a persistent beat, and it was all she could do to focus on making sure they all came out of this alive in order for her not to think about the dead boy. Or how easily they could all have been killed. She looked up at Shashka and one of the unknown Lorham girls, her gaze empty and unfocused.

"Just go ahead and take the free pass. Some of us should come out of this alive."

And maybe tell others about the fact that these men existed here so the authorities could get them. She wondered why they wanted the coins. For a moment she thought about the Highwall boy. They'd whispered that he was a murderer. Was this his plot? Was he trying to sabotage the other Star Catchers without showing himself? Did he hire these people? She doubted he could use the coins; they had each person's unique mark on them. But maybe he was just eliminating the competition by having these men murder them... or take them wherever they were taking them now.

"How do you expect us to carry him?" she nodded her head at the general direction of the dead body. That boy was big and she didn't have that kind of strength. Of course she wanted him to be properly buried and all, but she also wasn't looking forward to lugging a corpse around. She'd had enough trauma as it was. And he hadn't even done anything. He'd literally just stood in the wrong place at the wrong time and, she supposed, looked threatening enough for them.

It was so wrong that a life could be snuffed out just like that. It shouldn't be so easy.

And he never got to learn her name. Despite everything that had happened, that broken promise was the one that hit her the hardest of all.

Free?

In everything that had happened, she hadn't understood the terms of the deal being struck. The pale-haired girl looked around, wide-eyed, suddenly realizing she was going to be separated from Cassandra. Everyone else that she knew was gone—Samson had gone home, probably already hard at work in his new profession; Egwene fell ill and had to turn back; and now Charles was dead, killed by these men who now held sway over the auburn-haired girl she didn't know and the last person from her year.

An image flashed by her eyes of Cassandra laying there, unmoving, like Charles. Was that what was going to happen? Kitty felt her body continue to shake, and she hugged her body, arms crossed over her rib cage as hands tightly gripping her upper arms.

Nearby, she heard the sobs of the other girl, the other brunette she didn't know.

The braided one, the one who had managed to save them somehow, told her to leave. Kitty looked up at Cassandra, slate blue eyes still swimming with tears, fearful. She didn't want to leave her. But she didn't want to make any of this worse. Somehow, she knew that it could be worse. She hoped her schoolmate didn't think she was abandoning her. She remembered the bear. It was like that, all over again.

Kitty looked down, a few tears dropping to dot the bridge's old wood, and shakily made her way to Shashka. She reached out with a trembling hand to touch the other teenager's shoulder.

"We... we need to go," she whispered.

She didn't trust this monster, but he was letting two of them go—Kitty counted among them—so that was good enough for now.

The mention of death cut through her, a wound she had been ignoring until now. Cassandra stubbornly ignored it still, looking to Kitty instead. Her closest ally in a situation where allies were impossible to find.

Those slate blue eyes were tearful, tugging at her heart. Cassandra hated that Kitty had been subjected to all of this, hated that they all had been. But.. it had happened, and now they would have to pick up the pieces and move forward.

Kitty was making her way towards the bridge, and in that instance, Cassandra wondered if she'd ever see her again.

"You can do this," Cassandra called out towards Kitty's retreating form. She tried to smile, tried to convey the confidence she had in the pale-haired girl. "Go get that star, okay?"

It wasn't enough to make up for everything that happened. She wanted to spend the time to make sure Kitty was alright, to help her get the star. With everything, Cassandra was beginning to wonder if maybe her own wish truly was just a selfish desire, unworthy of all of this. It felt important to her, but was it worth all of this death and despair? Kitty, at least, had something meaningful to wish for. Something that would make a difference.

She hoped with all her might that Kitty would succeed.

Tearing herself away from that, Cassandra forced herself to finally give Charles the proper attention he deserved. Her stomach lurched at the sight as tears stung at her eyes. It was gruesome and terrible and he was—had been—her classmate, a familiar and welcoming face amongst a crowd. And now he was dead.

Cassandra didn't allow herself to turn away, stomach still roiling and threatening to make her sick. She knelt down to him, grasped his hand—cold, so cold—and whispered, "I'm sorry, Charles."

It wasn't enough, but it was all she could do.

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"Oh, right," the highwayman paused, looking back, "The wheelbarrow. Just... get him out of the road and follow. Hurry up, I'm tired of being here already."

Shashka flinched at the sudden touch of a hand on her shoulder. "Go? Go where? There's only this one path down the mountain." She half spat her words, her sentences punctuated with little hiccuping sobs as she tried to calm herself down. She knew she was being unkind, but she couldn't help it. Her first line of defense against tears was always to guard them with anger. She sighed. It's not as if blondie here has had an easier day than me. "Sorry."

Lifting the edge of her cloak, she wiped the bubbled snot from her face. How embarrassing. She would never admit it, but she had nearly pissed her pants from fear earlier. If she focused hard enough she could still feel the sweaty arm of the man who held her. It sent shivers down her spine. We still aren't out of the woods... Collect yourself, Shashka. Be strong. Just be strong and you can go home. She pressed her hands into the dirt, lifting herself onto her heels before straightening. "You're right. Let's just go, let's get away from here."

She never planned to be the hero. Now those two would probably get their star, and she'd... who knew what would happen to her and this other girl? Why was she doing this? Why hadn't she just bargained for her own life and freedom?

...She knew why.

And it was the boy lying there in a bloody mess. Trying not to look at him or his face, she grabbed him by the arms and looked at the dark-haired girl. "C'mon, help me with him," she said as gently as she could manage. "You want him to get a proper burial, don't you?"

She was glad the other girl didn't argue with her much longer than an initial bout of resistance. They needed to move forward, not just because of the star. What could they do to help with how sideways everything had gone? Cassandra had strength and the other girl had persuasion. Maybe that would be enough to keep them safe.

It was a poor excuse, even for Kitty, but she clung to it. She needed something that was easier to stomach than the truth. They'd be fine, wouldn't they? They had to be. They had skills. She blocked out all of the other worries, tried to redirect her focus to the task at hand.

She allowed herself one final look at Cassandra, trying to memorize the girl's face. "I'll find you again!" she wanted to say, but she couldn't. She hoped it would be true.

She didn't let her mind tell her it probably wouldn't be.

The shorter girl nodded at her new companion and turned to continue. Shame burned at her as she took those steps. Running away yet again.

She didn't move despite knowing that the monster and his friend were expecting her to follow.

It wasn't until the bear-killer's voice, gentler than before, broke Cassandra out of her own grieving thoughts that she looked up. The girl was right. Whatever it was that happened now, they needed to get going.

She nodded. "Right," she said, though her acceptance was more for herself than for the other girl's benefit. Cassandra swallowed hard before grabbing Charles's—no, that was too much, too painful—before grabbing the body's legs in an effort to distribute the weight evenly between herself and the bear-killer, moving to follow the monster.

Cassandra focused on the practicality of it all, focused on using the strength in her arms to keep the body from dragging on the ground. Focused on simply moving. She stubbornly ignored just how eggshell brittle her resolve felt at the moment.

This was the way forward, and so forward she would go.

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The skinny highwayman shrugged his shoulders, "Carry him then, but make it quick," then turned back around and kept walking, following the little river of water away from the bridge, going downstream. 

Torvald grunted, dark eyes moving from Shaska and Kitty to the bridge and back quickly, and started to move as well, keeping the other two girls in sight until they were out of range of projectiles. He then let out a low whistle, and turned around to face front. 

They followed the river until the bridge was completely out of sight down the gradual slope of a shallow hill, and then continued walking farther beyond that, until abruptly the two robbers turned away from the river and followed a dirt path into a rather small copse of trees in the middle of a resting grass field, the growth obviously uncared for while the soil regained the nutrients it would need to grow strong, healthy vegetables.

She followed the two men, keeping her gaze forward and away from the body. Even touching it made her skin crawl, and she had to resist the urge to cry. She wondered if the King would appreciate the fact that she'd sacrificed her own quest for those other two. If there were still room for three... would they acknowledge what she'd done as deserving to share the star? Did she really care?

She wasn't really thinking as she continued putting one foot after another, until they went into the trees and arrived in a field.

"Hey," she whispered to the other girl, who was obviously in need of some distraction. "What's your name? I'm Saphira."

Her legs were wobbly as she trailed the diminutive girl. Shashka could not remember having an emotional outburst like that in a long time and it had been both terrible and cathartic; she was now exhausted. She willed one leg to move in front of the other, putting distance between her and everything that had gone so very wrong.

I want to go home, she thought again, tears welling up in her eyes. I just... want to go home. Already, so many people she had met or traveled with had that opportunity cut off forever. She thought about Ariel, about how she had left her behind. Maybe she was lucky... maybe I'll still die a horrible death. There was no reason to think the journey forward would be kind.

Shashka looked at the girl in front of her, wondering if she too was tiring of their trek, if she longed to head back to the safety of her own home. If she doesn't, then she must really need that star. One thing was certain, she did not want any more nameless corpses on the way down the mountain. "Hey..." she ventured, "What's your name?"

She continued to only allow herself to think of putting one foot forward, and then the next. There was no room for thoughts of the cold body held in her hands if she only focused on the way the ground felt under her boot. No worrying about Kitty and the other girl and what they might encounter next if she thought only of keeping up with the monster ahead of her.

A whisper took her out of this stubborn quietness, breaking through the wall of denial.  

The shared name made her think of sparkling jewels and refinery and nothing at all like the savage attacks used to kill the bear during their first encounter and the quick witted words that had saved several lives.

Cassandra glanced at the girl—at Saphira—impressed despite it all. "Cassandra," she supplied with a ghost of a smile. "You have quite the silver tongue." The smile was short lived, shattering into nothing a second later, but the attempt had been made.

Whatever was happening here, whatever would happen next, at least they had some semblance of a friendly face close by in which to, hopefully, rely upon.

"Do you..." she stumbled in her quiet words, turning hazel eyes towards the monster's back, wishing she had some kind of ability to strike him down where he stood. "Do you think they're actually going to let us go free?"

It was a foolish thing to ask—Saphira didn't know anything Cassandra didn't know herself—but the words were spoken now, childish perhaps in their naivety, but hopeful all the same.

She did not expect someone from a small village like Lorham to have such a pretty name, but there it was. Maybe those people had taste too. She smirked at the compliment, feeling just a tiny bit more like her old self. Her spoiled, naïve self who only thought she knew how the world worked. “Perks of being groomed as the next mayor and having a career in politics.”

A career she might never get back to. In her attempt to reach higher, she might have led herself to fall into a bottomless abyss instead. Maybe she would end up with nothing at all in the end.

“Well, they let those other two go free,” she replied carefully, not wanting to get Cassandra’s hopes up but not wanting to quash it completely either. “And I was the one who offered help. He’ll probably let you go free after this too.”

And she would die a martyr for all the other surviving Star Catchers, the greatest irony of all.

She really hoped they would remember her name.

Saphira grew even more impressive in Cassandra's eyes, and if they had been in any other situation than this one, she would have asked all sorts of questions. She couldn't even begin to imagine all the tiny details of such a grand lifestyle. What was her everyday life like? Where had she learned to kill bears so efficiently? What kind of skills does a mayor even need? Did she style her hair herself or did she have servants?

Still, this was not the time nor the place, so Cassandra satisfied her curiosity by simply glancing at the girl again, looking for clues to all of her questions.

As Saphira continued speaking, an uneasiness settled in her chest. I won't leave without you, she almost said, the words on the tip of her tongue. But it would be a hollow promise, wouldn't it? This time, she didn't even have her axe in her hands to defend herself or Saphira if it came to that.

"I don't want to leave without you," she said instead, eyes honest as she continued to look at the other girl. "We'll stick together as best we can, okay?"

It was all she could offer, considering the circumstances.

She was surprised to hear that Cassandra wouldn't leave her. She supposed even when she didn't mean to do it, she was still influencing people and making friends. And this time... it wasn't even a manipulation. She had nothing to gain by winning these other Star Catchers over, except maybe so they would share the glory of getting the star. But that, ironically, had never been her goal. She wanted it for herself, or rather, she wanted to earn it herself. To actually find it and hold that piece in her hands instead of just... being handed it. For once in her life she wanted to win something not by birth or privilege, but by actual hard work. And she hadn't wanted to share it with anyone else.

She paused, not quite sure how to reply to Cassandra, looking over the sincere and honest expression on the girl's face. Finally, she cracked a small smile.

"Okay. As long as you don't blame me later for not taking the way out when you have the chance."

She wasn't worth sacrificing anyone's life for.

Kitty felt grateful when the other girl spoke. Their trek in silence had given her too much to think on. The tears from before had dried, leaving their salty streaks slick and shiny on her cheeks, but she felt like she had never stopped.

Charles was dead.

He was supposed to come home, having succeeded in his quest, and tease his poor cousin about his victory. He was fit and healthy—young and strong. That should have been plenty to help him along the path, even though they all knew it would be difficult to capture the pieces of star. After all, he and two others had survived a bear! Didn't that prove he had what was necessary to succeed?

The arrow that felled him happened in an instant. He crossed the divide between "life" and "death" between the slow beats of Kitty's heart. He didn't see it coming and couldn't have reacted in time.

At least, if she was going to die here, she hoped it would be quick, like that.

She doubted she'd be that lucky.

When she opened her mouth to reply to her new companion, her voice sounded cracked and dry. Unused for too long. She coughed for a moment, trying to find it. It still sounded hollow, somehow, to her own ears.

"Kitty. And you? And the other girl?" she replied.

She paused when she saw the bound body in the campsite, tensing. "Is that person...?" she was about to say 'dead', but why tie up a dead person? That seemed to make no sense. "Who's this and why do you have them?" she demanded. Had they gotten to someone else before her and Shashka? Great, now she had to rescue yet another person. When did the list end? Was this Shashka's old partner or the boy?

She scowled at the other guy and moved toward the wheelbarrow herself, determined not to let them touch someone else, dead or not. It wasn't until she'd put down the body there that she glanced at Cassandra, indicating that now was the time to go if she still wanted to.

Then she moved towards the table. She still had no idea what he wanted, so she waited to see if he would elaborate, stubbornly remaining standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

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"None of your concern," the man replied, slowly and deliberately. "You said you had connections to the mayor of Shadeslake and knew other people in power beyond, so you tell me - where can we strike to make the most profit with the smallest chance of loss on our end? Trade routes? Kidnapping?" his eyes strayed slowly to her at the last.

"If it's just money you're after?" she shrugged. "Trade routes would be easiest. Most of the really profitable goods aren't protected as heavily as they should be because no one knows what they should be looking for. What goods are valuable and what aren't, and which traders or merchants or deliveries to intercept." 

For things like spices and valuable herbs, not a lot of the common people would even know what they were looking at unless they were learned. And her family in particular did not reveal to the public where exactly they'd found the herb that made them rich, or the exact ingredients of the elixir they eventually sold to cure that disease. Nobody else except for the Vanes and people who worked for them knew what half the elixir even contained, and that was how they'd managed to keep their monopoly on it.

But hell if she was going to tell them that.

"Kidnapping is a messy business. I wouldn't recommend it."

Unless... they had been content to let every other Star Catcher go. What was so special about this one? Were they more valuable somehow? Were they... someone important like herself, perhaps?

"If you're after money, why go after coins you can't even use? Why not rob actual money?"

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His brow raised into a cocky expression when she mentioned kidnapping, but did not interrupt until she finished.
"Why steal when you can make your own money? Melt them down, dip in worthless tin pieces, and you've got a handful of silver. But all right, then. Give me all that you know of the most worthwhile of the goods, and we'll call ourselves square."

As they approached the center of the bridge, Shashka pulled off her cloak. "I'm Shashka and that girl... that girl was..." she stopped. Shashka found she couldn't remember her name. In the trauma of the moment, everything had become jumbled. As she tried to think back, her memory felt muffled and muted, like everything was being spoken from the other side of a closed door. Imagining their assailants only brought to mind snippets of faces: a greasy mustache, a bristly arm. Already, her mind was walling itself off, protecting her. She began crumpling the cloak into an angry ball. "I... I don't remember her name." She looked down at the cloth in her hands, marred with a mixture of snot and blood she couldn't be sure all belonged to her. In one fluid movement she pitched the cloak over the edge of the bridge. It fluttered as it fell, disappearing on the breeze, and she turned, continuing to walk. She was going to leave this moment far, far behind her.

"Because this is still stealing?" she pointed out the coins he had taken from them. "Stealing from children with hopes and dreams. Which is worse."

She considered his offer. He was going to let her go for that information, just like that? She had already decided to tell him about the Lancasters' business. They were one of the other elite families in Shadeslake, in control of the second most profitable medicinal herb. They had always been the rival of the Vanes, and as such Saphira had done research on them, and... a little corporate espionage.

"I can tell you everything about where you can intercept shipments of bitterweeds. They're the main ingredient for the Insomnia Draught. Now, you can't make the draught yourself, but everyone knows bitterweeds, when consumed alone, can be an addicting drug and numb pain. They're valuable on the black markets."

She glanced at the other, bound Star Catcher and sighed. "If you let that one go, too, I'll add an information about where they're actually harvesting the plant from, which is far more valuable, as you can only rob shipments enough times before they get smart and alter their routes. So, that would probably only be good for you for a while. But if you know the source..."

She let her sentence drift off, confident that even dumb thugs could catch her meaning. It would be far more beneficial for them to learn this information than keeping whoever it was for ransom. At least, she hoped so. If not, she still had one more card to play.

Cassandra didn't like it when the other monster, Torvald, began to help her with the body. She wanted to snap at him to go away, to stop touching it, but she wasn't certain she could handle it on her own. And she didn't want the body to touch the ground ever again until it was ready for a proper burial.

So she held her tongue and accepted the help. As soon as the body was secured however, she glared at him. "I've got it." She took a deep breath, mentally whispered another apology to the boy the body had once been, and looked for the last Star Catcher coins.

Finding the pouch, Cassandra tossed them to Torvald's feet--setting aside the wild idea of wanting to keep one as a keepsake for Charles's family in favor of just getting the hell out of here with as little problem as possible--and then grasped the wheelbarrow with only slightly shaking hands. Now that was done, she looked to Saphira.

The other girl had given her a meaningful look that Cassandra ignored. She wasn't leaving until she was forced to leave. She had said they'd stick together in this, and she meant it.

So she moved the wheelbarrow nearer but distant enough so that she wasn't crowding over whatever conversation the monster and Saphira were currently engaged in. Cassandra admired the way Saphira handled herself with this monster of a man, like a heroine taken right out of a storybook. Full of as much charisma as confidence. She wondered if something like that could be taught.

Cassandra held her breath as the conversation seemed to be going well, all things considered. The possibility of them leaving this place alive flared into a near-reality.

Remaining quiet and still, Cassandra waited, hope singing in her heart.

She frowned when the other girl admitted that she didn't remember the name of the one with braided hair. This would make it harder to learn about her and Cassandra. Kitty didn't want to think about what they were going through right now, but she clung to a desperate hope that they'd meet the other girls again. The details of how or why such a thing might be possible were not notions she entertained. There was too much to fear and worry about. She pushed all of that aside as much as she could.

She wasn't sure how to react when her new traveling companion threw the cloak away, but Kitty didn't want to ask or comment.

When she turned, however, she remembered something. She had collected her own weapon after the men were out of sight, ignoring the blood slowly drying on the blade, afraid to be back in more forested areas without a good tool to make her way. But... Cassandra had left her axe. Was it still here?

The thought of someone else taking it was strangely upsetting.

"One moment!" she called over her shoulder, her feet already running to the nearby spot. When she picked it up, Kitty imagined that the handle was still warm from someone else's touch... but she knew that couldn't still be true.

The pale-haired girl hurried back to Shashka. "Sorry," she panted. "Let's go."