Winter's Child

Chapter Fourteen~Lark the Rogue

Elodie awoke to what sounded like the scratching of something against metal. Her brows furrowed as her blue eyes fluttered open. The first thing that met her vision was the cold, morning sunlight. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, Elodie turned her head towards where the scratching noise was emanating from. She sighed when her eyes fell upon Adele, who was feverishly filing away at the iron bars of their prison door with some sort of metal object.

"Adele, what are you doing?" she asked, no emotion in her tone. She should have suspected something like this. Who knows how long she could've been up, trying to file her way through the door.

"I'm breaking us out," she answered through little puffs of breath. Elodie watched her for a moment with an unamused expression.

"Why? We're getting rescued."

"If they haven't come yet...they might not at all." Elodie couldn't help but crack a smile at the certainty in her tone. Typical, melodramatic, little girl. Elodie suddenly received a splitting pain in the centre of her head. She let out a little groan as her brows knit together and she pressed a hand to her forehead. Suddenly, her mind cleared and a smile grew across her lips. She now knew very well what that meant.

North! Are you coming?! Did you send someone? Is Jack coming?

Yes, Elodie. Don't worry. We're coming. Just hold tight.

The sounds of nature resumed around her. Why had that message hurt her head so much? Maybe the distance? Elodie brushed the matter aside. The point was, they were coming.

"You okay?" Elodie looked up to see that Adele had ceased her filing and was now looking at Elodie with an unsure expression. Elodie grinned and nodded.

"Better than okay. You can quit your filing now, Adele. They're coming to get us." Adele smiled and slipped her file into a pocket on her dress.

"Good. I was getting tired anyway."

* * *

"Come on Marcy, the sooner we find Elodie and Adele, the sooner we can go home," Jack encouraged as he trudged ahead of his sister with persistence. Marcy crossed her arms insecurely. She wasn't sure about the whole situation at all.

"I don't know Jack. These woods feel...sick."

"Oh, don't go believing the myths. The dark forest isn't for miles."

"It's not necessarily evil it's just...something doesn't feel right."

"Come on Marcy. We don't have time. We need to find them."

"Fine."

Jack and Marcy trudged on until they came to a fork in the road. As they stopped to decide which way to go, something crept up behind Jack. Before he could react, he was pinned to a nearby oak by a strong vine. Marcy cried out in fright and tried to get to him. However, something blocked her path. It was a blade at her throat. Marcy raised her hands and gulped silently. She closed her eyes as a shuddering breath escaped her lips.

"Hold still, Winterland filth. You don't want to find out what happens if you disobey me." Marcy had no intentions of disobeying whoever held the blade to her throat. It was a female voice. Sweet yet venomous. It was as if honey and poison were mingled together in her tone.

"Let her go!" Jack cried from where he was still held to the tree. He desperately tried to free himself, to no avail.

"I'll lower this dagger. Only if you don't try anything stupid." Marcy nodded eagerly, causing the woman to lower her blade. Marcy turned around quickly, resisting the urge to raise a hand to her throat. When she met the eyes of the woman, she was confused. She was fair-faced and young, like one from Fonsia. Her feminine features were outlined beautifully. Her high cheekbones, slender bone structure, big, hazel eyes. Everything about her was beautiful. Yet, at the same time, she was natural. She had a petite stature but a will strong enough to set it aside entirely. She wore a ragged, ripped, forest-green dress that had been cut off at the sleeves. She wore cuffs at her forearms made from bark that Marcy was sure she had seen the Fonsian soldiers wearing in the books about the Great War. Her hair was tied up loosely on her head and dirt was smudged on her face. She wore thick, leather boots on her feet.