I find the clearing is deserted, but wait out of sight for a bit anyway. Cautiously, I step out onto the dirt. Nothing happens. I take another few tentative steps and hear a rustle off to my right. I freeze, but nothing happens, so I wave Jkahl over.
“Okay, let’s just grab our stuff and run,” I say, packing food in my satchel.
“This was not a good idea,” Jkahl mutters, jumping up on his horse.
“No, it was not.”
Five of the guards from before emerge from where I heard the rustle a moment before. I grab the map lying in the dirt and look up desperately at my horse.
“Forget the horse!” Jkahl shouts. “RUN!”
I look back at him then sprint into the woods again. I hear the guard’s shouting less than a meter behind me. I imagine Scar-face’s hot breath down my neck and run faster. Taking ragged breaths, I say a silent prayer for myself, and for Jkahl.
Please, don’t let me trip. Please don’t let them catch up. Please don’t let this be my last day.
The woods is a blur of trees and I’m barely keeping myself from falling, losing my way quickly. My lungs burn and my legs ache from hours of riding and running. I make a silent note to have Jkahl teach me how to quickly mount a horse after this. If there is an after this.
Please please please please—
I don’t think I can move an inch farther, yet I plunge on, desperate to put distance between my pursuers and me. Just as I’m ready to pass out, I see the mouth of a cave a few feet ahead of me, off to my left. A quick glance back shows me I have enough time to duck inside and wait for the guards to pass. With the last remnants of strength I have, I practically fall into the cave, plopping down on the dirt floor.
Panting, I wait as the men stumble forward, cursing. I sit for a few minutes more, trying to catch my breath and hoping the guards still think I’m ahead of them. I sigh, and lean against the wall.
“Who is this, Grei?”
It’s all I can do to keep from screaming. I whip around and see I’m facing the strangest woman I’ve ever seen. She’s old, older than even Pare; her skin is coated in wrinkles and sagging off her bones, her hair a frizzy gray cloud. She wears tatters of fabric I can only imagine once was clothing, and walks barefoot. She smells like an outhouse.
“Who is disturbing us at this hour?” the woman asks, revealing yellow, rotting teeth.
“I’m sorry, I’ll leave—”
“She wants to go now,” the woman remarks, amused. “Can’t seem to make up her mind, now can she Grei?”
I back up slowly, feeling a mixture of confusion and horror.
“We don’t take kindly to intruders.” She gives me a disapproving look.
“I promise, I’ll never come back—”
“They never want to stay,” the woman fumbles around in her pocket. “It’s a shame, really. It would be so much easier, and we wouldn’t even have to waste anymore herbs.”
She thrusts a handful of powder at me and I step backwards, trying to avoid it. Immediately, my lungs feel like they’ve been set on fire. I fall to my knees coughing, trying to get the substance out.
