What was he?
“Ceann beag,” he said softly, and Ronan looked up. “We have to go, mate.”
Ronan nodded and shakily began to pick himself up.
“When we’re past the farms, we can rest. Alright?”
The boy didn’t answer, but Áed hadn’t expected him to.
He brushed the dust from his hands, and together, he and Ronan abandoned Morcant’s body in the street.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hours later, the sun began to warm the early sky with hints of yellow on the horizon.
They had left the Inner Maze in silence, side-by-side and lost in their own thoughts. Ronan needed to sleep; his feet dragged, and his eyes were half-closed. Every now and then he tripped and Áed automatically moved to catch him, but even if Ronan had cried onto Áed’s shoulder in the heat of the moment, the boy didn’t want Áed to touch him again. The pain of this didn’t lose itself in the dismal swirl of Áed’s mind, and Ronan always stumbled upright on his own.
There were clouds moving in, the same clouds that had churned out over the sea as Ninian’s soul drifted away, and the morning light fell onto the thunderheads’ bulging, gray faces. They meant a storm, Áed was sure of it, but around them, the city was thinning, and shelter would soon be scarce as they reached farmland. Still, he would rather be caught in a storm beyond the Maze than sheltered within the city, so he kept moving, and Ronan stayed with him.
The city ended and the farms began, though it was difficult to tell exactly where. The buildings became smaller and fewer, and the ground abandoned dust and cobbles for earth. Áed and Ronan’s feet didn’t land on paving-stones or brick, but instead shifted through sandy, starving soil as they followed a narrow path that, according to the prints in the dry ground, a farmer and his ox had beaten through the fields. The leaves of the taller plants—oats, perhaps—brushed at Áed’s elbows as he led the way, and the stems crackled, shushing with a sound like wind. The land was hilly, as if the undulating waves of the sea had frozen in place. Ahead of them by some miles were trees, and rising behind the trees were the cliffs, and neither of them could see anything after.
The storm clouds took their time rolling in over the Maze, but having them at his back gave Áed the feeling of being chased. Eventually, Ronan caved to exhaustion and allowed Áed to carry him, and despite hunger scraping at his stomach, Áed moved as quickly as he could.
The trees approached quickly as the farmland faded into monotony, and their shadows grew darker and all the more dramatic for the clouds were blotting out the sun.
When they reached the forest, Ronan leaned to the side and tumbled off Áed’s back, where he cushioned his fall by rolling onto his back and sprawling into fallen leaves. Without the boy’s weight, Áed stumbled to the nearest tree and sank down against it, gazing up into the whispering branches. “Alright, ceann beag,” he coughed. His throat was dry, and the air was chill. “We can rest.”
Ronan just stared dully at the sky.
Áed shoved his knobby fingers through his hair and rested his elbows on his knees to regard Ronan with concern. “You should sleep a bit, okay, mate? You don’t even have to move, just close your eyes.”
Ronan nodded, hair tangling in the leaflitter, and his eyelids fell shut. Within moments, his breathing shifted, and Áed knew that he slept.
Áed filled his lungs with air before letting his head fall back against the bark of the tree. They’d done it. They were out of the Maze. Áed could barely process it, but they were free of the city. They were well and truly out.
Somewhere past the trees were the cliffs. They would find a way to the White City, and there they would stay, and Ronan would be well-fed and happy. Surely Áed could find work at something, he was resourceful enough for that, and they could live someplace clean and quiet. Áed reached over and freed Ronan’s little bag of possessions from the child’s fist, and he placed it into his own so Ronan wouldn’t have to carry it. If only the crops were ripe, then they could eat! They both could do with some food.
Áed didn’t let himself sleep. He wouldn’t allow his eyes to close for another night, not after Ninian’s death, but he sat still and watched the storm crawl in.
When lightning began its assault on the distant Maze, Áed pushed himself up and roused Ronan. The air had grown humid, and the space beneath the steadily-darkening clouds was streaky with rain. “Hey,” he said, and Ronan opened his eyes blearily. “Wake up, mate.”
With a yawn, Ronan pushed himself up and scrubbed at his eyes with his fists.
“Ceann beag, we should talk.”
Ronan looked at him blankly, but there was so much turmoil behind his expression that Áed bit his lip.
“What happened back in the Maze. I know it scared the hell out of you.” Áed could feel that clearly.
Tentatively, Ronan bobbed his chin.
“I know you’re angry with me.”
Again, Ronan nodded.
“Talk to me, mate.”
Ronan looked to the ground and started crumbling the dry dirt in his hands. He chewed his lip ferociously, but couldn’t seem to find the words. Áed gave him a moment, and eventually, Ronan spoke. “I never knew you could do that.” The boy swallowed hard. “You killed him.”
Yes. Yes, that was true: Áed had taken a man’s life. Violently. Right in front of Ronan. He felt sick to his stomach. “I am so sorry, ceann beag.”
“You killed him with…” Ronan couldn’t get the words out, but he opened his hands from fists like something was bursting from them. “You weren’t you. I thought…”
Áed wanted only to take Ronan into his arms and convince him that everything was alright. But Ronan was still instinctively keeping his distance, and things weren’t alright anyway, so Áed pressed his hands to the ground. “Ronan,” Áed said, making an effort to show the truth in his words, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how I did that. It startled me, too.” Gently, slowly, he reached out and lifted Ronan’s chin so that the boy made eye contact. “I would never hurt you. Do you believe me?”
Hesitantly, Ronan opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then, in a small voice, he said, “Yes.”
“Good,” Áed replied with a small sigh of relief. He moved his hand from Ronan’s chin, and Ronan didn’t look away. “I’m sorry we had to leave, but it’s going to be better now. I promise.” Ronan would understand later. When the wound of Ninian’s death healed a little, then he would see. Áed stood and held out his hand, and after a moment of pause, Ronan took it. “Come on, ceann beag. There’s a long way to go.”
The forest wasn’t terribly thick, and this was fortunate. Brambles and thorny twigs snatched at their ankles, but they couldn’t do much to damage to Áed or Ronan’s already-tattered trousers. Saplings stretched toward the sun, and the older trees grew crookedly. Moss that was green and rich affixed itself to flaky bark, and most of the plants looked rather sickly. Áed and Ronan picked their way over fallen trunks where fungi sprouted like spongy balconies, stepping through patches of diluted sunlight that filtered through the leaves overhead. They didn’t talk, and the quiet that hung between the scrawny trees pressed both Áed and Ronan more deeply into his own thoughts.