Hidden - part 3

Hi! Thanks for visiting my blog :) This is part three of a little story I'm writing. For anyone who is new here, I would recommend you start at part one and work your way through. Happy reading!

I stumble, angrily wiping away the tears that are blurring my vision. Andrew has been all alone for the whole day; who knows what could have happened to him? If his out of control magic injured him and I wasn't there to help... in his weakened state, he could die so easily.
"ANDREW!" I yell, glaring at the surrounding forest. It is no use. Even if he could hear me, he wouldn't answer. He is so afraid of hurting me without meaning to, he's going to end up killing himself - as though that wouldn't hurt me a million times worse!
"Andrew, get out here right now!" I rage impotently.
I lean against a tree, trying to get my breathing under control. I can't help Andrew if I'm panicking. I need to use my head. I need to think.
It takes all of my will power to force myself to remain still and try to reason this out. Andrew must have left as soon as I fell asleep. That means he's been alone for just over twelve hours, now. He would need water. We didn't have time to bring water skins with us when we fled, which means one thing.
River.
The thought has barely entered my head when I am running. Andrew would need to stay near a river if he wanted to drink. I am totally lost in the vast forest now, but I still have the map. I crouch down and search it before standing up and sprinting off again.
The nearest river runs roughly parallel to our home, but that's not the one Andrew would have followed. He would have taken the other, the one that leads to our destination. He would try to make it to the hidden training grounds and save himself. "You should have taken the map," I mutter, clutching it in my hand. How is he going to find them now?
Cursing myself for wasting half the day on useless panic, I jog to the river. I don't see any sign of Andrew, but this does not surprise me. It's been hours, and any sign could have long ago washed away - or been removed by Andrew himself. I close my eyes for a moment, shuddering when I imagine what he is going through now, attacked by his own power and me not there to help him.
I start to run.
The ground is flat and I am going against the flow of water. While the river is wide, I could wade across it if I really wanted to. I don't want to; I want to find Andrew. My breath comes in sharp gasps, but I don't allow myself to slow down. Andrew could be dying even now, waiting for me to come and save him.
I strain my ears and eyes, searching for any sign of anything out of the ordinary that could indicate Andrew is close by. There is nothing. I fight the rising panic. The only thing I can do is keep going.
As the sun sets, I don't stop. I know I should make camp, but I can't bear the thought of stopping when there is breath in my body, knowing that I may be leaving the man I love to his death.
It is full dark soon, but the moon and stars provide enough light for me to keep running. I can feel my muscles shaking in exhaustion, but I ignore them. There are more important things right now.
I don't see the hole in the ground until it catches my foot. I scream as I plunge forward, over the bank, my foot still caught in the hole at the top. I hear a sickening crunch as my leg breaks.
I clamp my hands over my mouth, not because I think anyone is near, but because the sound of my own screams is not really helping me stay calm. Gritting my teeth, I lean awkwardly back and free my foot. The pain is unlike anything I have ever imagined. I lean over to throw up, heaving violently. When it stops, I have only one thought.
Andrew. I still need to find him.
I make to get up, but I can't balance on one leg without a staff, and all the branches lying around are thin and brittle. I sigh, trying very hard not to start crying. I can't walk. There is nothing else for it; I'll have to crawl.
That night is the longest I have ever lived through. Every movement makes the pain worse, but the pain of stopping is the worst of all: the fear that Andrew is dying because I am not with him. I drag myself along on my elbows, my eyes screwed up and my mouth clamped shut.
By the time the sun rises, I feel barely human. I am covered in dirt and leaves, and in so much pain that I can hardly even remember why I am here, only that I need to keep going.
Just one elbow in front of the other, Megan, I tell myself. One, two, one two. That's it.
As I lift my head just an inch to see where I can put my elbow next, my eyes light on a pair of boots. I strain my neck to look right up at the man they belong to. He is tall and middle aged - normal looking - but he has some air about him that hints at the extraordinary.
"You must be Megan," he says, smiling down at me.
I take a minute to work some moisture into my mouth, trying to reply. "Who are you?"
"My name is Breg. Andrew told me to look out for you."
I am suddenly suffused with energy. "Andrew? You have him? He's ok?"
Breg smiles and reaches under my arm, pulling me to my feet, where I sway unsteadily on my one working leg. "Yes, we found him in time. He's at the training grounds. He said you wouldn't give up looking for him, no matter what. I guess he was right."
"Will you take me to him?"
"That's what I'm here for."
I sag in relief, and Breg hastily puts his arm around me, helping to hold me up.
"You're one of them, aren't you?" I say. "One of the ones hidden from the king?"
"Yes," Breg says. "Yes, I'm a wizard."

To be continued