Cloak, Torn: Book 2 [ON HOLD]

Chapter 22

As it turned out, the goose snored. It was more like a wheezy series of honks about once every thirty seconds and even though my room was at the opposite end of the house from the chicken pen, it was obnoxious enough to keep me up. Every once in awhile I would drift off and just as I was beginning to slip away it would give its loudest honk yet and I would be rudely jerked awake. Muffling the noise with my pillow did no good, and eventually I gave up and started counting. I counted the seconds it took between each series of honks and how many it averaged in each spurt. There were about five or six normally, but once it got up to eight.

There were no windows in the bedroom, but I knew the moon must be past its peak by now. I did my best Warren imitation and growled in annoyance. I really didn't want to get out of bed - it was comfortable and warm in there - but if that goose didn't shut up I might just take the Woodsman's ax to something. It honked again. I kicked off the covers.

I was wearing one of mother's old, white nightdresses from when she was much younger, but it was still big on me. It made me look like a ghost, but I didn't care. When I pulled my cloak on to keep out the chill it mostly covered it up anyway. I pulled on my boots without my socks, yawned, and crept out into the hallway. I left my bedroom door open so it wouldn't creak when I came back, slipped down the stairs and padded outside.

When I got out of the house I found that I was right. The moon was large and almost brushed the treetops of the forest, shining bright enough to cast shadows and the sky was glittering coal. The white noise of soft wind hissing in the treetops and cricket song made the grass brushing together under my feet seem obtrusive. Like I wasn't supposed to be there. Even the goose had gone quiet for the moment. Perhaps the stupid bird had woken itself up and I could go back to bed.

I rounded the corner of the house and came to the chicken coop where the goose was pacing the fence. So it had woken up. Good. I came out here for nothing. I massaged my forehead with one hand and rubbed at my eyes.

"You've got to be kidding."

The goose honked and ruffled its feathers. It seemed spooked or something. Maybe Warren was somewhere around here.

"It's okay you stupid bird. Go to sleep."

The goose honked and I winced.

"Shh! Do you want to wake everyone up?"

It screeched and honked and beat its clipped wings. I groaned. It was going to wake up the entire village. I grabbed it before it managed to get away and clamped one hand around its beak, but it thrashed and struggled as frantically as it could. I ended up wrapping my arms around its whole body to keep it from moving. I could feel its terrified heartbeat pumping under its slippery body and fought its desperate struggles. Eventually I got it calmed down, but by then even the crickets had gone silent, and an owl's hoot echoed a dead, flat tone somewhere in the chill.

I went as frozen as the goose.

I saw it now.

There was a metal gleam grinning between the trees of the forest, curling up the wicked edge of an ax blade.

My ax blade.

I took a step backward, goose still in my arms. My heart thumped. Again. And again. The adrenaline started seeping into my conscious mind. Panic tried to work its way in.

"Jack?"

The figure in the trees shifted. The ax flashed. I stood frozen.

I caught the oily black shine of a feather twisting in the moonlight and the dirty sheen of sandy hair as the shadows fell away and the moonlight revealed his form. Jack raised the ax.