The Midnight Guard [TMG Book One]

Part II: The Journey Begins

"H-How did you...?"

The stranger gazed down upon Wynter with eyes of a smoky grey colour full of mischief and mystery. His pale face seemed white as the snow outside and he stood with one corner of his mouth pulled into a smirk that made Wynter feel for some reason uneasy. She pushed herself off the floor, dusting the dirt from her knees and dress all the while keeping her eyes upon the young man who stood tall in front of her open window.

Open window.

"Shut it!" she hissed. "The window needs to be shut!"

And yet the boy did not seem to share in her alarm, he gave little more than a shrug in response. Wynter moved hastily forward.

"It doesn't matter anymore." He said softly. Wynter stared in disbelief as he held up a gloved hand to stop her from passing.

"You have already been seen. The Guards are not quick to forget the face of an intruder, especially having that you escaped."

"What do you mean? Who are the Guards?"

Somewhere above there was movement. Wynter froze, listening intently. She may be safe now but if she was caught...
The stranger watched her with an air of curiosity.

"I've already said too much," he whispered catching on to the problem. "That is dangerous information."

"Then who are you?"

A pained sort of smile seemed to spread across his face as he dropped his head, jet black strands of hair fell into his eyes.

"That too is dangerous information."

"Then what will you do to help me?" Wynter sighed exasperated. The sound of footsteps was fast approaching down the hall. The stranger's hands moved swiftly, too fast for Wynter's eyes to follow. He seemed to produce a neatly folded sheet of paper from thin air.

"Here," he whispered holding it out to her as the sound of another person reached the door. "Take it. Just make it through the night."

Wynter's heart pounded against her chest as the door to her room was furiously knocked upon. A thousand questions sprang to her lips as she took hold of the page, but no words seemed to come. She looked down upon the paper just as the door behind her burst open.

"But I-"

"What is this?" came the high-pitched voice of Mrs. Archer. Wynter spun to meet her, scrunching the paper into a ball so it was hidden from view inside her fist. Mrs. Archer was a stout woman with an angry red face. Her glasses were now askew, her greying hair tied into a tight bun. Her eyes moved between Wynter and the open window and as realisation dawned upon her, Mrs. Archer's mouth dropped.

"CLOSE IT!" she screeched.

Wynter's entire body seemed to shake as she turned again to the window. The stranger was gone, silent as the wind. Her surprise made her hesitate; she longed to peer out to into the night to see if he was there. Behind her Mrs. Archer clicked her tongue impatiently.

"Move, silly girl!" Mrs. Archer pushed Wynter roughly aside and pulled the windows shut, the wispy stained curtains were slid together to block out the night. A pause hung in the seconds that passed, one of tension in which Wynter watched as Mrs. Archer's lip trembled in anger.

"What," she eventually said, "were you thinking?"

Wynter had no time to answer before Mrs. Archer spoke again, her voice raising with every syllable uttered.

"You foolish, irresponsible girl! You have broken our most crucial rule, and why? Do you think yourself to be funny, girl? Oh, the danger you have put all of us into tonight! Who knows what could have happened, what will happen? You cannot stay here, you should not-"