"Should we bring lunch?"
"I don't have any socks."
"What day of the week is it?"
"Obviously Tuesday."
"What are you talking about, it's Wednesday. It just feels like Tuesday because our ceremony was Saturday."
It's a chaos of questions and retorts in the main room of my bungalow when I return. Even standing outside I can tell that the musketeers and fencers are taking advantage of freedom: no work duties this morning. I chuckle softly, glad that they're all out from under the immediate thumb of the Huntsmen.
I raise my eyebrows at the mess of breakfast bowls and tumbles of shoes around the room. Obviously they've been here for quite some time.
"Nada!"
"Where have you been?"
I shrug and pick up the box of high-fibre cereal, "Just out in the gardens. They're pretty cool... as you'll see today." Seeing all three of the bowls from the cupboard have been used I settle for a mug.
"So important question," Beth, the oldest and loudest of the fencers, hands me the milk. "I'm missing a sock."
I give her a disbelieving look that says everything from, that's not a question to you seriously need help with that? Ignoring Beth's frown, I sit on the patterned couch and start crunching on a proper breakfast.
"It honestly doesn't exist anymore." Beth complains to Josie who laughs, throwing her light brown locks back into a ponytail.
"Maybe one of the Huntsmen ate it." Josie quips.
There seem to be a million inane questions to be answered before we can leave for the hike. It doesn't help that Macie doesn't show up until half past ten, but we eventually set out. I whisper to Amy that we should let the others attempt to navigate and just make sure they roughly head in the right direction. Amy tries for a few turns to hang at the back with me but eventually her curiosity wins out and she darts ahead to scout out the sights.
Despite Abby complaining about the prospect of blisters, Macie urges us to keep walking well beyond where I've been before. I wonder madly if the gardens extend on forever in this direction. After almost an hour the ground begins to slope upwards. Macie lets a grin show and pats her satchel triumphantly.
I catch up and bump her shoulder with mine. "Why didn't you tell me you had a map?"
She sighs, dainty shoulders falling, and pulls out the folded paper. "I figured you'd confiscate it." She offers it to me though and can't help scoffing.
"You can have it back, but I do need to look at it." Thick paper, but small and square. It's neatly hand drawn and coloured, showing the topography of the plateau and a road snaking down the side of it. Seven near one edge and the rest of the plateau is coloured the green of the gardens. Macie points to a hill at the back of them, almost as far from Seven as you can get.
"This is where we're headed. I figured that we'd be able to see if anyone's followed us and we'll certainly be far enough from the town that no one will be out there by accident."
I nod, "Good thinking."
As we advance up the hill the hedges and forests become fields of grass, pocked occasionally by a lazy tree. I spy the highest point; a hilltop of great granite boulders that tower over the surrounding country. Amy's pace has slowed to a trudge, already halfway up that hill without bothering to pause for directions.
"That's where we're going then?" I point at the hilltop, struggling to place it on the map's vast garden area. Macie points to a small square marked "Stone henge". I take a few more seconds to examine the map and when I feel as though I've digested as much information as possible, I hand it back to Macie with a wry smile.
"Thanks. I advise you show Amy before she confiscates it herself." I whisper, watching Amy ahead as she asks the others to give her a boost onto the first of the boulders.
Macie nods in assent, "I think everyone should have time to look at it. But first, let's set ourselves up."
The boulders stack impossibly, tumbled each on top of the other. Stepped pathways unwind themselves before our feet amongst the stones, as we climb up to the flat top of the largest boulder. A eucalypt clambers up over one side, drooping leaves over us to create a thin, dappled shade. I admire Amy's perch on a smaller, higher boulder, from where she surveys the garden in all directions. It looks more maze-like and confusing than ever before, the edges blurred with late morning mist.
Everyone naturally arrays themselves in a half circle across the rock, resting aching feet but happy. The wide-open space and the abundance of greenery must be even more of treat for the girls newly out of Seven. Even Lily and Stacey, dragged more than brought along for the ride, have a contented look about them.
"We should have brought band-aids," one fencer complains to another.
"You should have brought socks," the second fencer replies, glancing at the sandals being hastily unfastened by the other.
"One day they'll have my shoe size," the first moans again and I shake my head and respond.
"Guys... Really?" Truly, I'm more amused than exasperated, though.
"So..." Macie begins, "Tanja's writing minutes so it looks like we're doing what we're s'posed ta."
Tanja, a bookish inbetweener, brandishes a pen and notepad, which I'm a little jealous of after scratching out lists on screwed up receipts and napkins since Seven.
"Cool. This is the rhetoric we're going with:" Macie begins before being interrupted.
"Rhetoric?" Fern gives Macie a quizzical look from under her inky, ragged fringe.
Amy pipes up from her perch above us all, "It's an old word. Means speaking, like a big speech to the masses." This is met by blank looks all round.
"It's the way were going to talk about this." Amy finishes with a petulant pout at our lack of interest in her history lesson.
"Mm, we'll make it sound pretty." Macie continues, "The Young Warriors Society is all about supporting new Huntswomen and training them to be smart, fierce fighters with good manners and social graces."
I withhold a snort at the ridiculous picture of us learning to hold teacups daintily one minute, whilst screaming at each other across the training room the next.
"By the synergy and teamwork of the society, individual talents will be fostered and be used enhance the abilities of all the society's members."
Tanja coughs, "Could you guys slow down a bit? I missed that whole last bit."
"Surely we can be a little rough with it? Fix it up later?" I chime in.
"Yeah, that's right, as long as we have the gist." Macie smiles.
"This is going to be the best attempt yet," says Fern, the youngest of the musketeers, her shoulders bouncing with excitement.
Amy meets my eye, probably remembering my words from yesterday. Easier and harder than ever before. No one else seems perturbed by her optimism though so I keep quiet. Hope is better than the alternative.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/97628117-288-k317060.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
Nada's Escape
FantasyVersion 1. For updated version see nada's escape: Fighters lies. True hunters of the wicked. Wardens of the World. The Huntsmen shield humanity from the dark and wild fey. In recent times, they also steal human girls from their homes for more n...