Nada's Escape

80- Hesitate.

More events flash through the circle of lights after Beatrice's but they all fall short. I turn away in disgust as the fourth one also ends with blood splattering to the ground. Finley's talking to one of the council members behind me. I wade past them, feeling lost in my own skirts.

I feel a gentle tug on my arm. Finley steers me back a couple of steps to the council member.

"Hang on a second," he tells me. "I just want to finish my train of thought.

I pause, swallowing a bubble of irritation. Does he have something important to tell me? Cause it feels like he just doesn't want to get left behind. I glance at my watch as his conversation, too low to hear, continues. I hear a faint ticking coming from the back of my mind. Boredom.

"What is it?" I ask, it can't be serious. Finley doesn't respond, his whole body leaning into this all-important conversation. I tug on the sleeve of his jacket like a child, boredom ticking louder in my mind.

"Just give me a sec, trust me it's important." He whispers back to me, only gracing me with the quickest flick of a glance. His hand, still on my upper arm feels like it's getting hotter.

I check my watch again obsessively. Tick tock. I shuffle as far away as that hand will feasibly let me. I'm restless here. Nothing interests me except the shiver of irritation at the social pressures holding me still.

The conversation ends and I'm still standing here impotent. Finley moves closer, face inching into my personal space. I feel it as a physical pressure on my skin, squeezing out the air between us like toothpaste from a tube. My attention shifts to the Huntsmen around us in the semi dark, more hostile that in the light. It's added pressure, on top of the heat of Finley's skin and I suddenly realise what's happening.

I want to wriggle away, whack him, run to the ends of the earth. Escape. But I do something completely against my nature.

I hesitate.

All the air is pushed from my lungs and I freeze. His lips press soft against my cheek. Just lips on skin. It's quicker than my hesitation. He's already leaning away.

My mouth starts to fall open and my inner fighter is berating me. Why? Why did you do that? Why hesitate? Why so much nothing? I can't look at him, my face trapped in rigor mortis of whatever expression I'd previously had. So I just walk away, distracted by what I should have done. Not a rejection. Just nothing.

I look up at the light of the open hall doors. The long shadows of the Huntsmen cross the distance like prison bars. Alright, I think it's time to go.

As I re-enter the hall looking for the others, someone catches my elbow. I'm swung around to face Darcell and still sensitive, snatch my elbow back immediately. He wears dark green, the sleeves of his jacket riding up on his forearms as he makes a gesture of peace.

"There you are." Darcell smiles, "You look beautiful."

I check my watch again. Late enough to leave. I answer him distractedly, "Oh. Uh, yeah, thanks."

I assess his body language for unsavoury intentions, but he's leaned back against the doorframe. Comfortably distant. I can't help asking about the letter. "You haven't?"

"It's safe." He understands immediately, patting the breast of his jacket. "I've been hoping to find you."

"Why..." I narrow my eyes. Darcell murmurs an answer I can't hear.

"What?" I ask, just as Penny and Henry drift past only a few people away.

"Penny!" I call out, but her gooey-eyed expression doesn't change. I watch Beth try to intercept them with a hand on Penny's shoulder, but to no avail. Henry looks just as enthralled as Penny, so that's something.

I start haltingly towards Beth, to discuss leaving, but she's quick, following the couple through the crowd. I am forced to wait for three old men to shuffle past. Darcell stammers something else I can't hear; is the music getting louder?

"Ah don't worry about it, I'm leaving soon." I raise my voice and bounce on my toes.

"Fair enough. Not exactly my scene either." He replies, having peeled himself from the doorframe.

I laugh bitterly, thinking of all the war trophies. "That's an understatement." There's a gap now towards Beth but a peculiar feeling makes me half turn back to Darcell. His mouth has a sarcastic quirk to it but his eyes are serious. A lonely green, like an island swept far from land.

Darcell nods staring at the ceiling, "99% of being a Huntsmen is about feeling..." He sways back on his heels, "... misplaced in the world."

He glances back to me and for a fraction of a second it's like he gets it. You know, how I feel all the time. About worm-stuff, about the Huntsmen.

But I'm not a Huntsmen so whatever we have in common is moot. I remember Beth and turn back to the crowd, but it's already closed around me.

"I see who you're chasing. Pincer move?" Darcell asks, moving shoulder to shoulder with me. I cock my head, confused for a moment as Darcell continues trying to persuade me.

"Two units are better than one," he blarneys. Now I'm just confused about what he's up to. His eyes sparkle with challenge, as though this is another wall to scale. I guess it's harder in way, because you're not allowed to run and there's no such thing as handholds. Eh, might as well make this a game.

"Fine. Loser gets drinks." I retort, switching my mind into the calculating mode of garden-sprinting, tree-climbing and wall-scaling. The clogged hall opens up in my mind as blur of spaces, movement and obstacles. Something to conquer. Something to distract me from my problems.

I dance through the crowd like a minnow, skirting around the bejewelled. I spy Beth, stopped with Willow behind a clot of unreasonably tall wardens. Too easy. Darcell's taken the other side, and though I can't see him I know I've won. I can see the crowd unravelling before me, about to give me a clear shot at Beth.

I dart through the gap, resting a hand on her shoulder and asking her about leaving before she realises I'm there. As she comes to terms with my presence I wave at Darcell over her shoulder. He rolls his eyes but starts towards the drinks with a fake salute.

"Ah, Macie said we should wait another hour. Most people are only a couple of drinks in." Beth replies apologetically. I sigh and very briefly consider waiting for Darcell to get back. But I'm not a worm and so I continue through the crowd to argue my point with Macie. Each almost brush of someone else's fabric on my skin makes me squirm and so I endeavour to slide through the crowd more seamlessly.

Macie's close by the stage, watching a small cohort of dancers before a one-woman band, made of a single flute. She's good and beautiful, but it's a hard ask to perform in this hall full of chatter.

Macie laughs at my suggestion that we leave as soon as possible. Then she qualifies, "Before you get yourself worked up, I have no issues with that, but I'll eat my hat if you can separate those two earlier than nine o'clock." Her eyes slide across Penny and Henry, dancing slow within a world made of rose-tinted bubble-wrap. I cringe.

"She won't tell him right?" I ask, suddenly certain that she will, and ruin all our careful plans.

"She already has," Macie replies casually.

"What!" I grab her arm, starting to freak but Macie doesn't even look away from the dancers.

"It's fine. I told Henry it was a story we were making up together. It's totally covered." Macie somehow harnesses the sarcastic unconcern of a hundred teenagers. Still I'm mollified. I've got to calm down or else I'll snap before the escape. This was supposed to be the easy part.