Awake - Book One of the Spinner's Curse

Chapter Thirteen: Fleeting Hope

                           Chapter Thirteen:

                              Fleeting Hope

　

　

           "Rory, we have to go now! Help me with Spark. We can't leave him here. Please." I blinked and looked down at the Pig-man's limp body, my arm still wrapped around him. I let him go and backed away, horrified. "He’s not dead, he’s passed out." Jo. Jo was the one speaking to me. I looked at her, at the pain and desperation in her eyes, the blood on her hands.

          I looked down at Spark, lying, panting in her arms. "Where did he get you?" I asked, looking at him, searching for the dagger.

          "It was his lower arm. Just his arm," Jo assured me. "We have to get him out of here. If they find us, they'll kill us. Help me!" I looked at Spark's arm, a small slit shone in the light, blood bursting from it. Quickly I tore off a strip from the Pig-man's robe and tied it around Spark's arm.

         "Is there another way out besides the main entrance?" I asked Jo.

         She nodded towards a tapestry beside the hearth. "Through there. That's how he gets his favorites in and out when he has company." I nodded and together we helped Spark up from the ground. I wondered at my sudden strength. I should be lying on the ground now, exhausted from my efforts. The old me would never have been able to do this.

         The sound of feet pounding closer made us run, practically dragging Spark along. Jo shoved aside the tapestry, revealing a small wooden door. She turned the knob; a cool blast of air greeted us from the dark stairwell. "This will take us to the kitchens. From there we can escape out the back. Hopefully they'll still be expecting us to use the front door." I nodded and we began our descent.

         Dull, pre-dawn light illuminated the kitchen. It was large and, thankfully, empty. The set-up reminded me of the last time I had fled. The kitchen back home was similar. Jo led the way to the door. Spark and I followed, slower, but still as quickly as we could manage. On a peg by the door was a cloak. I grabbed it and threw it at Jo, allowing her to cover herself. She shot me a grateful smile and flung open the door.

         We were at the back of the manor. I could hear shouts from the other side of the house. They had discovered the missing horse. Good. Perhaps they would think we had all fled. They wouldn't be looking for us anywhere near the manor. Jo motioned us to follow her and we obediently did, sneaking across the grass, heading for a line of small huts.

          At the last one in the row she opened the door and ushered us inside, carefully latching it behind her. Inside were a small cot, a side table, and a wardrobe. This was obviously her room. I led Spark to the bed and told him to rest. I stood guard while Jo changed into a new dress. She shoved the only remaining one at me.

          "I can't take this!" I protested, horrified at taking her last garment. She scoffed and pointed at my clothes. I had forgotten they were caked with dried blood. Immediately I shed them, not caring that Spark could see my undergarments if he opened his eyes. I put on the thin dress. It had been so long since I had worn one. My legs felt bare and vulnerable.

          Once we were both dressed we looked at Spark's wound. The opening was clean and smooth. The dagger had gone clear through his arm, severing the tendons connected to his wrist. It hung limply on the cot. "We can't stay here," Jo said, looking down at Spark, "they'll come for the servants, for the favorites." Her voice was hard and bitter.