Chapter 13-Waiting Is Agony

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  I listened to the faint snoring of the many people around me. I was anxious to slip out of my tent and be on my way, but I had to be absolutely, one hundred percent certain that every soul was fast asleep. If even one knew of my leaving then all my planning would be for nothing. So I held in my pent up energy for now.

  I shift restlessly and roll onto my side, careful to do it slowly, as if I was actually asleep. I gazed through slitted eyes around the tent I was currently occupying. A single guard was already slumping drowsily outside my door. With any luck, he'd conk out in an hour or so.

  If I listened carefully, I could pick out Shay mumbling in his sleep among all the other sounds. I closed my eyes and concentrated, trying to figure out exactly where he was. Using my electricity, I sorted through each person out until I found him; curled up in his signature misshapen cotton ball position a few tents over. I couldn't quite locate Drayan though, as he was about the same size of the other adults.

  I waited for another hour and an extra few minutes to be sure, then I began to inch my way out of the tent. I moved so slowly it felt as if I wasn't really moving at all. But Koruri had been teaching me many things during my stay at the Sanctuary, patients being among the top priorities. So I was able to slip out of my tent without detection.

  I stole across the packed snow, keeping to the shadows, my feet leaving only minimal imprints. No one would be able to trace my steps while I was in camp. It would be virtually impossible with the churned up and then trampled snow that meandered from tent to tent. But outside the camp would be another story.

  I got down to business right away. Zurii, I knew was chained up right outside of camp. I could hear her restless rumbling even from the other side of the large huddle of tents. Shay and Drayan were probably being kept under guard. And if Daichi was smart, he would've separated him from Drayan. And I didn't think my uncle would be taking any chances with them tonight. Unlike me.

  I had found my cloak and pack carelessly slung in the big pile of supplies in the middle of camp. They weren't afraid of any wild animals stealing from them apparently. Zurii probably was the cause of that, as she terrified even the people who had her chained. I can't say I blamed them. She could be very terrifying when she wanted to be.

  As I crouched down and secured my cloak, I cast out my senses once again, searching for Drayan. I still couldn't find him, which irritated me. I needed to find a way to recognize certain people by their electric currents or something. And I'd even heard of a way to do something like that back in the Sanctuary. But I didn't know exactly how to go about it. I guess I'd just have to figure it out on my own.

  Once I made sure I had all my belongings in my bag, I slipped behind Shay's tent and tested the stake nearest to him. Just as I'd thought, everyone had been exhausted from the trek and had gotten a little careless with pitching their tents. I wouldn't be surprised if most of the tents here were poorly assembled.

  I fished out my gloves worked at it with my Yaraym-tipped fingers. I didn't have to put forth much effort at all really. The thing was barely set any deeper than the the inch of snow on the ground. But when it came loose it scraped against the Yaraym, startling one restless sleeper in the tent. Without even realizing it, I honed in on his current to make sure it was him I'd woken. I felt him scrunch up further under his blanket in fear as I lifted the now loose flap and stuck my head in.

  He burst into silent tears when he saw me. I didn't have to motion to him at all. He squeezed under the flap soundlessly and buried his head deep in my chest as soon as he was free. When I has restored the stake to its former position and yanked off my gloves, I picked him up before carrying him away from the tent. As a precaution, I used the corner of my cloak to cover the tracks I'd made in the less-packed snow behind the tent.

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