A Questionable Quest

Chapter 7... in which I escape my doom and impersonate a hag

It took what seemed like forever before the sounds of joyous merriment reached my ears as I lay in bed.

I'd told my mother I still wasn't feeling well (but this time, with a few convincing coughs and some sweat against my brow, she believed it). I'd felt a small twinge of guilt pull at my heart as she left.

That was, after all, the last time I would see her before embarking upon a deadly Knight's Quest. Should I have given her a hug? Kissed her cheek?

Would she be horribly mad when I returned? Or worried? Or just... stone-faced her?

I'd shaken the thoughts away. I loved my parents, I did, but I'd lived with them for a lifetime, whereas this was the chance of a lifetime. If they didn't understand, then they didn't have to.

As soon as the sounds of Prince Donovan's Embarkment Feast could be heard through the stone vents (I'd been placed just above the dining room, in some twist of ever-awesome luck), I scrambled out of bed.

And tripped over the sheets.

I hopped to my feet, cursing, nursing a banged knee, and hoping this wasn't indicative of the rest of my escape. Or the adventure to come.

Please be worth it.

My clothes -- the armour vest under a navy, belted sleeveless tunic, the vest's matching leggings, and the arm-covers -- stood out like a sore thumb compared to the servants rushing through the halls. I practically held my breath the entire journey to the first floor.

Fortunately, they were mostly far too preoccupied with the celebration to notice me. (I made eye contact with several of them, who shot me suspicious and unnecessarily hostile glares, but they never stopped me.)

Once on the first floor, I moved through the larger halls. Yes, there was a bigger risk of running into a royal who might recognise me, but at least there were no servants to avoid.

The knights were harder to sneak past. I doubted they would simply let me walk on by -- and there were two posted outside every major and minor ballroom entrance. A series of Fast-Acting Distraction spells (which I'd learned for use in fights, but also worked exceptionally well for sneaking around) allowed me to race past each doorway without a hitch.

I didn't truly release my breath until I'd slipped into the west-facing sitting room unnoticed.

The room was dark (which, fortunately, meant no one was here), and I maneuvered across the room.

Ow. That must have been the table. The leggings had prevented any major injury, but I reached down and rubbed my knee just the same.

I moved more carefully across the room this time. No rough tables or angry chairs jumped into my path, thank goodness, and I had soon slipped through the small door and into the night. From there it was a quick trip to the gates, and a (longer) Immaterial spell in order to walk through the thick stone wall.

(Another spell I'd learned for the offensive, but I'd never really mastered it. It took me nearly ten minutes to work which, in a fight, meant death. Still, at least it had some use. I mentally thanked Mordrin for suggesting that I memorise it.)

The woods were... dark. Out in the courtyard, the gibbous moon had illuminated enough for me to see where I was stepping. Here, the trees blocked any moonlight that might light my way along the ground.

And it was cold. Goosebumps had risen on my bare arms. Something about these woods seemed to suck all warmth from the summer night. My brown cloak swished softly against the grass as it was thrown over my shoulders. Then, I began to walk.