Nada's Escape

75- Morals.

Alone at last in my bungalow after the chattering mess of breakfast, I heft a cardboard box of miscellaneous shoes across to the couch. My mind turns over the problems yet to be solved for our escape, while my hands begin sifting through the dress shoes, idly sorting.

Penny. I sigh, melancholy aching through my bones like a virus.

What if she won't go with us? Should we force her to come? I imagine my fingers digging into her arms, dragging her up into the truck. Her delicate ankles clash with the textured gratings along the running board. What sort of protest would she put up? Would we have to gag her too?

My heart sinks and I scatter heels and buckles across the carpet. That's like kidnapping.

But we'd only be taking her away from the real kidnappers, surely. I throw a shoe missing half its sparkles onto the opposite couch. Does that matter? Should we save someone who doesn't want to be saved?

It's a choice, though suicidal, I think, to stay with Henry. Shouldn't we respect that, though? Wouldn't I want the right to choose my own fate? Isn't that why I am still trying to escape the Huntsmen?

On the other hand, I'm not sure if Penny could be said to be choosing much these days. That's what being enthralled means. You've had all your choices taken away. Enslaved.

I shake my head. I've spent too much time with the Huntsmen. Just think of what will happen to her if she stays.

She won't have us: no more distractions to divert her from Henry obsessions. No one to make sure the Huntsmen don't take advantage of her. She'll likely be forced to marry Henry in a couple of years. Have to carry Huntsmen children. And if even one of them is a girl she'll die horribly just because I didn't have the courage to save her from it.

I sink my nails into the slightly springy material of these brown wedges, distressed at the conflicts within me.

So we have to take Penny with us, for her own good. And if she struggles, what can we do but force her? If she makes a ruckus she might even ruin our careful escape...

A dark thought greets me at this point. I shiver away from it, focusing instead on undoing a particularly stuck buckle on a red heel. After trying unsuccessfully to pry it loose with my teeth, I realise that I'm never going to force my feet into heels for the gala. I throw it onto the opposite couch, adding to the growing pile of rejects. The thought remains, though, unattended at the edge of my thoughts: Finley could enthral her to come.

I move onto the next shoe in the pile, a sandal seeming to have no partner for the dance. We could always lie... Tell her we're just going on a short trip. I fiddle with imagining how easy that would be... up until the point she realises.

I line the lonely sandal up neatly along the couch. Maybe she'll thank us though, once she's far enough away from Henry. This possibility glows warm in my mind. I spot the other sandal, trapped in a cage of stiletto heels at the bottom of the box.

But equally she could truly hate us for lying. She might even try to escape back to Norgara. Through endless plains of fierce desert. I despair, knowing that one girl along would stand no chance.

If only breaking Penny's enthralment were as easy as breaking her oath had been. I think I'd accept all the Huntsmen powers if it meant I could reverse everything they've ever done. Breaking oaths is a nice start, but it's not enough to help Penny...

Or maybe I could. I feel like a waterfall rushes through my mind. Possibility pounding against me and then gone in an instant, leaving me gasping for air. I sit there for several minutes, playing with the spiked heel of the last shoe while I attempt to answer my questions. Would Finley and I be able to use the bond between us to break Penny's enthralment?

I finish sorting through the shoes with this question and its many branching solutions still on my mind. I've lined up all the pairs in a string stretching in an arc around the couches when Macie arrives to confer.