The White Shadow

17. A Decision

The same silence inside the prison welcomed Firmin outside. He steeled himself as he saw the many dead bodies strewn about.

     "Oh, God," he said, rubbing his face. "Have mercy on us all." And here he'd thought they could make a perfect team. Just for a fleeting moment, a second. But that was gone now.

     "Firmin, what is wrong?"

     Every minute he delayed—he needed to get back. The duke would be sending men soon to get more information, planning an attack. They didn't even know about the prince. They must never.

     Firmin hurried from the entrance and back down the tower.

     "Firmin!" He heard Reina's footsteps behind him. Slipping and falling.

     He pursed his lips and continued, climbing without stopping until he reached the ground.

     "Firmin, wait!"

     He flung around. Reina flinched.

     "You witch!" he cried. "Look at what you have done!"

      She looked around, tears coming to her eyes. "This? You told me I should drain them. You said—"

     "Oh no," Firmin said, shaking his head. "No, you don't dare blame this on me!"

     "I don't! Because there is nothing to blame anyone for!"

     "You were not supposed to kill the prisoners!"

     "The—" Reina stopped herself. "Firmin, I don't understand."

     The sun was rising. "I need to go back." Firmin spun on his heel and marched to his horse. He needed to get as far away from this cursed killer as possible. Who had he been to think he could ever play this game, much less win it? His father was right about him. He was a fool.

     "Wait!"

      Firmin sped up his pace, past all the dead bodies, rocks, bushes. He made it back to their horse and jumped on.

     "No, Firmin. You can't leave me here like this!"

     Firmin clicked his tongue. "Hyah!" The horse surged into a gallop. The trees sped by in a blur. The ground stooped from high to low then rose again.

      "Firmin!" Her shouts grew more faint. Then no more.

     Firmin dared a glance backwards, not expecting to see her anymore.

     He was shocked to see her shadow instead. Gaining on him rapidly.

     "Faster, you dumb horse!" Firmin demanded frantically. He felt sweat running down his forehead, making his clothes cling and his fingers clammy.

      Without looking where he was going, he kept on kicking into his horse's sides. He turned his gaze briefly ahead of him. Surely at the speed they were going—a quick glance over his shoulder revealed they had not lost her.

     She was even closer.

     Firmin ducked a branch. She was just a pace away from him now. Closer, closer—

     The speed of his horse suddenly slowed. A white light had overtaken his mount.

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Firmin flew from his fallen horse and fell to the ground. He scrambled to his feet.

      "Firmin, no wait!"