The Inner Circle | A Midnight Quartet

Chapter 14 | Darcy Edison

A soft trill sounds to Darcy's left. She jerks up, smacking her head against a large branch above her. Sucking in a breath, she rubs at the spot with her palm. A loud snore draws her attention to the boy beside her.

His head is plastered against the tree, drool running down the side of his open mouth. She smirks at the way his chestnut curls blow across his freckled nose, making him twitch like a small rabbit. Then she notices his shirt; the usual cotton button-up is stained and untucked, his suspenders hanging around his hips. And his sleeve is torn.

She pales as the events of the day catch up to her.

Sitting up, she wildly searches for signs of that horrid man. A hand goes to her throat, feeling for the severity of the damage. It is still wrapped in Carmen's sleeve, but her hand comes away slightly bloody.

She looks back towards Carmen and scowls. Idiot. He must know nothing about how to handle a bleeding wound. He never should have let her fall asleep; she could have passed out and never woken up. Or fallen out of the tree and died! Or worse! She could have talked in her sleep, alerting their attacker where they were!

She moves to wake him up and tell him what a fool she thinks he is, but pauses. Why should she know anything about treating wounds? As a matter of fact, why would she know how to handle a man holding a knife to her throat? Or not be mortified after stabbing him? He is going to have a lot of questions when he wakes up.

As if she summoned him awake, his eyes flutter open and meet hers. She gives him a half-smile, hoping to soften the blow of interrogating questions. He smiles back, clearly still dazed after his afternoon nap. She gives him a second to recover, watching as he takes in the bloody rag around her neck and her own presumably disheveled hair and clothes.

Curious about the state of her own outfit, she glances down. She had worn her favorite dress, one the princess had given her a few months ago. It was a light blue and had a floral patterned corset, but it was now ripped and splattered with her own blood... or that of the man she had just stabbed. She shakes the thought off and looks back at Carmen. It is his turn to pale and his eyes widen in remembrance. She purses her lips, waiting for the questions to tumble out.

"What- what happened? Did you know that man? How are you feeling? Wait- How did you know about that tunnel? Are you sure you're okay? Where did he go-"

"Carmen."

His mouth snaps shut. "Sorry... it's just- I'm very confused." He scrubs a tired hand down his face. "Are you... okay?

"I'm okay, Carmen."

His body seems to sag against the tree. "Ok, ok. That's good." He lays his head against the bark. Darcy does the same. Despite the nap, she is still exhausted.

"My dad was in the army." Darcy says suddenly. And before she can stop it, words start tumbling out. "He's the one who taught me how to defend myself. He taught me to fight."

Carmen lifts an eyebrow. "Quite the family."

She gives him a half hearted smile. "The painting in Irena's room is part of a series of interlacing tunnels. She showed it to me for emergencies."

He frowns. "Ernest never showed me any tunnels."

She shrugs then says, "You could have killed me, you know."

His hand slips from the branch it was resting on. "What!"

"Didn't you ever learn that when someone is bleeding out, you don't let them fall asleep?" She lets out a small laugh, "In a tree, no less."

It's his turn to pale. "No one ever told me that!"

"It's really just common sense."

He laughs. "That's fair. I am really sorry."