Nada's Escape

19- Ties.

Macie glares at my unbrushed hair as I begrudgingly exchange my dingy, barely elastic hair tie for a pastel blue ribbon. I feel claustrophobic, corned in the little shower cubicle as I tie a low ponytail. The ribbon's not new, but its slippery, and I get the sinking feeling it will slide off in under twenty minutes. I miss my deranged old hair tie already.

"Get out of my face," I snap at Macie, trying to push out into the bathroom. Her lips purse and her eyes glint with that old worm meanness. Yeah, even after the ceremony, we're not friends.

"Don't you want...?" Macie, pressed against the side of the cubicle, holds up a tiny blue circle. A brand-new hair elastic.

I make a grab for it, momentarily possessed by envy. It's an ugly, worm-like emotion, one the Huntsmen love to inspire. Macie lets the elastic go, with a vicious half smirk. And she just loves to toy with me.

I snap the elastic in place and charge out towards the brilliant sunlight, forgetting for a moment that I have shoes. I try to backtrack for my foot coverings without looking sheepish, but I'm unsuccessful under Macie's disapproving gaze.

She follows me out into the dazzling sun of the courtyard and then the cool shadows of the main hall. I link my fingers in the locked grate, resigning myself to wait with the sour taste of surrender on my tongue.

Too many seconds tick by and Macie's still examining me in unsubtle glances. So I drag my attention from worrying about the day ahead and try out that thing they call conversation.

"Are you thinking of holding me down to apply your lip gloss?" My words are punchier, angrier than I intended, but I smile to soften the blow.

"You need it," she snaps, plumping her lips in distaste. If I weren't used to her barbs I might have recoiled. Instead I shake the bars of the grate, the oversized rattling of it somehow calming, drowning out the visuals.

"Why do you feel the need to tell me that?" I ask rhetorically. "I don't. Even. Care."

Perhaps my emphasis undermines meaning because Macie shakes back her hair and folds her arms, holding her ground.

"You don't think I'd prefer to be the one heading out to a party today?"

Party? She thinks this is about a party? God, worms are the worst. Macie's gaze becomes faraway for a moment, looking through me.

"But they want you," she whispers. Then she shakes herself, and saunters back across the hall with a more collected manner.

"Good luck," she pronounces before heading back to school, I guess. Mildrith appears in that doorway a heartbeat later, shaking her head ruefully.

"You took too long. He's left." Mildrith tells me and I cock my head, intrigued. Finley? Left? That's not like him.

I start towards her through the tables. I suppose she'll make me go back to school. Bleh. I slide the ribbon from my hair, trying to unpretty before heading back there. But as I step through the giant door that Mildrith holds open she hisses, "Run to the gate. Now."

I spend a half second startled, snapshotting her dark eyes for meaning. Then I realise; she's in on it. Finley's still here and the plan's still on.

I don't wait for her stop me, just dodge right, sprinting doubled over to the courtyard wall. I vault it with practised ease and savour the slap of my sandals on the dirt. Barely better than bare feet. I tear across the open space, out of sight of the guard room but in full view of the gatehouse, dodging patches of torn up dirt from who knows what.

The main gate's locked, of course, but there's movement in the gatehouse. I slow on approach but the small gatehouse door swings towards me. I barrel inside. Cool sweat beads on my forehead, above skin flushed from my run, my breathing only a little hitched upon entering the tiny space.

Finley and behind him a familiar brown-haired warden wait for me.

"Good morning, Nada." Finley's greeting is too ordinary so I ignore it. Instead I watch as the warden, with bored movements, opens a drawer and withdraws a linen strip. He passes it to Finley wordlessly, his laconism comforting compared to Finley's glib greeting.

Finley steps towards me, his tone already placatory as he says, "Well. It's the same oath the ladies take when they come out for day trips, etcetera. It's not forever; just for a day."

They want me to take an oath! I feel cornered, not for the first time today, like the universe is trying to squeeze me into a worm-shaped mould. I grimace. Not if I can help it.

"Martin's here to make sure it goes down correctly," Finley continues. The warden behind him nods politely but I'm too busy sizing him up to respond. Could I take them both out and make it out of the gates? Somehow get a message to the others that they're open and we could all make a run for it?

The warden sees my look and throws the lock on the exterior door of the gatehouse. He then rolls a squeaky office chair in front of him and rests his hands on it meaningfully. Okay, if brown-hair's already ready for me then I've got no chance.

I swallow my need for immediacy and run my fingertips over the fabric in Finley's fingers.

"What are the words?" I demand, not bothering with faking politeness. Mr Brown-hair doesn't care.

Finley shoots a mystery glance behind him at the warden and then holds the fabric flat, ready for my wrist. I rest my arm on it hesitantly, almost expecting it to snap around me like a bear trap. I guess I'll have to ad-lib on the fly. The Huntsmen don't like redoing their oaths.

"Today only, I swear I won't escape Norgara - that's our town and its immediate surrounds," Finley breaks out of character for a moment to explain. "Nor harm any Huntsman or woman."

I nod slowly, as if I'm taking a moment to remember the words, but my mind is working faster than that. I open my lips to speak my first Huntsmen oath and my blood pounds surprisingly hard within my throat.

"Until sunset today, I swear I won't escape Norgara, nor harm any Huntsman or woman without provocation." I can't help the tiny triumphant smile that touches my lips as finish speaking. I keep my eyes on the warden's mask-like expression as Finley's fingers knot the fabric at my wrist. Yeah that's right. I've heard enough of your bat-shit fairytales that I know the trouble with blanket statements like "I'll do no harm". I'm not going to be shackled.

As Finley finishes sealing the linen knot, the warden tells him, "Those aren't the words." Finley rests a friendly hand on the warden's arm.

"I'll have her back well before sunset. Don't worry." The warden leans back against a desk and unlocks the outer door. Finley opens it for me and for the first time in three years I step into the sunlight beyond Seven's walls.