Chapter. 53
Keld’s sword swings in my hand with every step I take. Tripping on the wet grass could lead to a nasty injury, so I pause for just a moment to wrap the sword in the linen garment and tuck it in my backpack.
My legs burn as I run over the dark grassy hills. The warm glow of the castle becomes smaller and smaller behind me. I’m making no effort to cover my tracks – that will come later, when I reach the forest. Right now, I need to put as much distance between Rahlan and myself as possible.
After running to the point of exhaustion, I reach the forest, where cut stumps give way to tall trees. Behind me, the outline of Litton castle is dotted with small orange lights, making it stand out from the black hills around it. Being sure to hide my figure behind a tree trunk, I climb up onto a stump on top of a tall hill for a better viewpoint.
Even at night, the moonlight reveals any protuberances on the small hills. My eyes home in on anomalies in their slopes, but after staring and squinting for a while, I’m confident that they are nothing more than rocks. If Rahlan is already following me, then he’s only just left the castle, meaning I’m at least an hour ahead of him. I’ve seen him track, and I know I can move faster. He may wait until dawn before setting out, or maybe he won’t bother at all, not considering me worth the trouble.
I take the large gray socks out of the travel bag and pull them over my boots. He won’t be expecting my shoes to change shape, and the soft wool will obscure the edges of my shoeprints.
Facing the forest again, the black trees tower over me. The leaves rustle from a gust of freezing wind. The forest seems endless, stretching further than I can see, as if entering would mean I’d never leave. With the risk of getting lost, traversing a dense forest at night was unthinkable to me just a few weeks ago. I can imagine a year from now, one of the villagers stumbling across what’s left of me – a dry skeleton with a decaying backpack, half submerged under leaves and dirt.
Instead of diving into the forest, I skirt along its edge. The wind picks up, tugging at my hair and chilling every bit of exposed skin. Faria is to the south, directly through the woods, but maybe I can find an opening where the trees aren’t so dense, where I can at least see my surroundings.
I walk and walk, but the tree line remains thick. I try alternating between taking long and short steps to throw off Rahlan’s measurements, but I abandon that idea when a rustle in the bushes encourages me to pick up speed.
Silly. It’s just the wind.
I stop and face the dark forest again. There is no opening, no clear path for me to follow. The only way to Faria is through. I scan the vegetation, trying to make out any hostile figures, any menacing stares. The canopy above blocks what little moonlight there is, blackening the vegetation below.
There are ravagers around. Rahlan was so sure of it that he ordered a curfew on the villagers and assigned a guard at night. He knows that the ravagers are aggressive enough to venture into a well-lit crowded village, and here I am stepping into the woodland, alone. On my way out of the castle, Keld gave me a sword, and not as an empty gesture for my own piece of mind, but because he knew I’d need it.
I glance back at the castle, picturing the warm bed surrounded by thick stone walls. Those walls weren’t built to keep me in, but to keep others out, out here where I am. As soon as I step into these woods, the castle will be out of sight. Maybe I should go back. Rahlan will be mad, but at least I’ll be out of danger.
But if I go back, if I’m a coward, I’ll be used as bait to draw Ivan out. I’ll have to watch him die.
With that thought pushing me forward, I take my first steps into the forest.
Wet leaves crunch beneath my boots. The canopy smothers the light, blinding me. I stretch my arms out ahead to feel for obstacles, and my ears remain on alert. The only sounds are rustling trees and leaves cracking under my feet.
The cold air creeps in around me, climbing up the gap between my tunic and pants. There’s a thick coat in the bag, but I fear that digging in it will lead to me dropping something in the pitch-black underbrush.
My foot slips over something smooth, and I hit the ground. Wet leaves and dirt cover my leggings, making them unrecognizable. The socks over my boots are soaked with mud, providing no grip. Frustrated, I pull them off and chuck them into the darkness.
There’s a scurrying noise as the socks hit the ground. A shiver runs down my spine. This isn’t an oak forest, so it should be free of scarlet wolves. It must be a rabbit or something.
Standing up, I realize that I’ve lost which way I was facing. There is no castle, no hills, no moon and no light.
Leaves crunch behind me. I jump and take off, running into the darkness. Footsteps chase after me, cracking twigs and leaves. Were ravagers watching me when I skirted along the edge of the forest, waiting for me to be stupid enough to try go through?
The steps get louder, closer. Its gaining on me. I sprint as fast as my sore legs can move.
Something slams against my face, sending me tumbling to the ground. My limbs jerk and writhe to push myself upright. My mind races with imagined images of a smudgy figure emerging from the bushes behind me, a ravager. I wouldn’t even see it, and I’d only know that it was upon me when it gripped my arms and bit into my flesh, digging towards my bones, feeding on me as I struggled and screamed on the forest floor. There’d be no skeleton left for a wanderer to find. There’d be nothing but scraps of my clothes, a pathetic shield shredded as the ravager consumed its meal.
I touch my cheek, still burning from the impact. There’s no sound besides the wind and my own ragged breaths. A wetness coats my fingers as I touch my lip. I’m bleeding, and my face is covered in grimy dirt and grit.
I carefully stand, listening for any noises.
Branches groan in the wind, and leaves shake.
There’s a cackle, and my stomach flips. I run. With my arms stretched out ahead of me, I run for my life. It’s the same cackle the ravagers made when Rahlan and I encountered them. Now they’re hunting me, and there’s no one to protect me.
The trees grow closer together, their twisted branches overlapping one another, slowing me down. I’m stepping over thick bush and ducking beneath branches. Turning back is not an option. I’d be running right into its claws.
Any sense I had for which direction I was headed has long since disappeared. Twigs and leaves smother my face as I move deeper into the trees, the noise blocking out any other sounds.
My loud fumbling is acting like a beacon, alerting the creature to my location. Another cackle cracks through the air as I push through more leaves. My limbs get caught in vines, stopping me from moving any further, like a moth in a spiderweb. It’s going to take me. My legs will fall out from under me, and I’ll spend my last moments screaming in the underbrush.
A wet tongue licks my neck, and I whip around. There’s nothing but smudgy leaves and darkness.
I grab onto a branch. Using all my strength, I pull myself up. My bandaged arm burns, and my legs kick wildly through leaves until finally digging into something solid. With a groan, I ignore my bodies protests and pull myself further up the tree. My hands sting from the bark’s bite. I climb and climb until a branch snaps in my hand, almost causing me to fall.
The tree is too thin to go any further, and vegetation obscures the ground, hiding how high I am. There’s an inky black substance on my hand – blood. I can see! I’ve climbed high enough that the few leaves above me allow the moonlight through.
My eyes scan the thick vegetation below. It sways, like something is disturbing its roots. I tuck my legs up to my chest and wrap both arms around the trunk, like hugging it tight will prevent whatever is down there from taking me.
My vision stays locked on the thick vegetation below. It covers the base of the tree, hiding anything that may be looking back.
The wind pushes me, as if it wishes for me to return to the forest floor. I won’t. Paying no mind to the fact that I’m bleeding, my arms pull tight around the trunk.
I stay frozen.
Hours pass. The wind backs off, and the forest grows silent.
Running over fields and clawing through forests the whole night has caught up with my body. I’m shivering from the cold, and my limbs are exhausted, but my mind refuses to let me drift away from the present. I need to get some rest, but every time I loosen my grip on the trunk, a rustle in the underbrush below keeps my arms glued in place.
I wish that I wasn’t alone. As silly as it sounds, a part of me wishes that Rahlan was here with me. If he was here, I’d be safe. Though the cold often kept me awake during the first few nights with him, I never had to fear being attacked in my sleep. I couldn’t imagine anything scarier lurking about than the vampire I was sleeping beside, and if he wanted to harm me, then there was no reason to wait until I was unconscious. I learned pretty early on that the frightening vampire wouldn’t attack his captive if I did as he said.
While I was forced to walk behind him, I dreamed of being free, of traveling on my own. I imagined that I wouldn’t be worrying over my fate. No one could tell me what to do or where to go, and I’d head where my heart desired. At the time, traveling alone through the wilderness seemed wonderful compared to following him into the vampire country.
This is nothing like what I imagined.