Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Iwoke with a jolt as if a phantom hand had shaken me and I pushed myself upright in the enormous bed as I worked to take in my surroundings.
I groaned, my luxurious sleeping space calling me back into its embrace.
Never had I slept so soundly or so comfortably in all my life.
Despite the dangers surrounding me, the bed I’d chosen for my place of rest had been nothing short of sinful in the way it had caressed my body all night long.
If only I could have brought it with me, I certainly would have done.
The room was dark, only the faint glow of light from the embers in my fireplace offering illumination.
But something told me that dawn was close.
My slumber had been disturbed by the distant sound of singing and I frowned as I recalled it, wondering if it had been real or just a part of my troubling dreams.
I gathered up the second and most precious of the two books I’d brought with me into the Taking Trees – Rissa’s childhood journal.
The pages were dog-eared and grey from the amount of times I’d fallen asleep reading over her words, pretending I could hear her voice between the letters, imagining she was a little closer when I consumed them.
They contained nothing of real value to anyone else, but to me, they were the most precious thing in all the world.
I stood, shivering a little as my bare feet pressed to the cold floorboards. I glanced at the door, relaxing as I found the chair I’d wedged beneath the handle still firmly in place.
Hendrix may have kept his distance during the night but I knew he had some scheme in mind for me yet, and I was going to be far away from here before he had the chance to act upon it.
I’d run from him last night, fled like the pathetic human he judged me to be and proven to him that I feared his wrath despite my attempts to conceal it. My heart had still been pounding when I’d finally accepted that he wasn’t going to hunt me after all and I’d taken my opportunity to sleep.
I swallowed as I thought back on my meal with the brutal Fae, my fingers pressing to the tender skin where he’d bitten me like the beast he was.
Heat flared in my veins at the memory, the way his stubble had grazed my throat, his fingers pressing against my skin, his lips lingering for just a moment as his teeth withdrew…
He was a monster of the deadliest design and I needed to escape him before I fell prey to his madness again.
I tiptoed to the heavy drapes which hung before the windows and twitched them aside to reveal the shutters beneath. A small crack at their edge allowed the faintest whisper of deep grey light to shine through it and I was relieved to find that my instincts had woken me right on time.
I hadn’t intended to sleep right through the night.
My plan had been to nap for a couple of hours at most so that I wouldn’t miss the sunrise.
Truthfully I hadn’t wanted to do that, but the exhaustion in my bones had demanded it.
Either way, I’d slumbered for what must have been ten hours.
I wasn’t entirely certain how I’d managed to wake right at the crack of dawn but I was endlessly relived to have done so.
I hurried back across the room, dressing myself in the Fae clothes which were more suited to traversing the forest. The material was as soft as butter against my skin, the black trousers fitted yet supple, a warmth to them which defied the thinness of the fabric.
I added a white tunic to the outfit, its billowing sleeves a little more decorative than practical but it was comfortable and easy to move in.
The boots fit me surprisingly well and I laced them tightly, wondering if the forest itself had meant to lead me here so that I might find the supplies I’d been in such desperate need of.
I wrapped a dark green cloak around my shoulders last, the material sumptuous and warm while the colour promised me anonymity within the folds of the woodland.
All I had to do was make it into the embrace of the trees and I’d quickly be lost within them, leaving Hendrix and his brutish disposition far behind in my wake.
The bag I’d stuffed full of supplies was heavy but I refused to second guess what I’d packed and quickly secured Rissa’s journal inside it.
I’d snuck back out to the pantry once I’d been certain my Fae captor wasn’t actually hunting the halls for me and had filled the pockets of my fine gown with food from the kitchen.
I’d stolen a few sharp knives too, meaning to use them against him had he come for me, but now they would accompany me in my escape.
In addition to that I still had the remains of my old supplies, my books and now some spare clothes and a blanket too.
I doubted I’d find shelter in a luxurious castle again tonight and though I would sorely miss the comfort of this place, no meal nor fine bed could make up for the abhorrence of Hendrix’s company.
The shutters groaned as I unbolted them and eased them open, the low whine making my pulse spike as I glanced back towards the door and the chair which remained stoically wedged before it.
There wasn’t a breath of sound from anywhere in the castle and I could only imagine that the great Hendrix was resting his massive head on plush pillows of his own.
No doubt maintaining such an alarmingly over-inflated ego was hard work and he’d exhausted himself in hauling it around so much at dinner that he would sleep on for hours yet.
“I hope you don’t choke on your own drool,” I muttered in place of a farewell to the obnoxious Fae, then reached for the latch to the window.
My fingers brushed the cool metal and I couldn’t help but hesitate as I peered out through the glass.
Years in the forest had allowed a green film to build up over the square panes and I had to squint through it to gain a look at the walls and tangled rosebushes that made up a long-neglected garden below.
It was only a breath beyond pitch darkness outside, the slightly-paling light filtering through the trees all too slowly. Would the beasts that roamed the forest at night have retreated yet? Did this teasing whisper of dawn count as daybreak?
I swallowed back a lump of fear in my throat, counting slowly back from ten and painting an X against the glass with my forefinger.
“Spirits, please let me pass,” I begged in a low whisper. Then I turned the latch and thrust the window wide.
I braced, my muscles tensing and features pinching in anticipation of an attack, of some unseen monster lurching from the trees to devour me for daring to step out into the night.
But nothing happened.
Cool air fragranced with the scent of the roses that littered the forgotten garden below my window washed over my face in an amused greeting and I forced myself to relax.
It was going to be okay. Dawn was breaking. It was time for me to move.
I leaned forward, peering down at the drop which seemed so much further than I’d been expecting. I was certainly high enough to break my neck in a fall but I couldn’t back out of this now.
I closed my eyes to centre myself. I’d snuck out of my own bedroom window many times and clambered over the little lean-to beneath it before scrambling to the ground and hurrying out to practice with my slingshot or run laps around the village while no one would be awake to watch me.
I was well used to seeing this time of day and well used to the fear that came with risking the wrath of the night, though admittedly my village held far fewer threats than this place did even with the risk of Hollows and the creeping trees.
With a steadying breath, I hunted for footholds and planned a path to the ground. There was an iron drainpipe around six feet to the right of my window which ran to the garden below. Between me and it was little more than crumbling stone and some overly enthusiastic vines but I would make it.
I clambered onto the windowsill and turned to grip it as I lowered myself over the edge.
The toes of my boots scrambled against the brickwork, hunting for the gap I’d spotted in them. My arms trembled as I fought to find it and lowered myself further, my muscles straining with the effort as I cursed and swung my legs, still trying to locate it.
I’d promised myself I wouldn’t look down, and the moment I broke that oath I almost cried out in fear, my boots still scraping against flat stone, my fingers slipping as my weight threatened to undo them, the fall beckoning with glee-
My toes struck the edge of the gap I’d spotted and I finally managed to push some weight into my leg.
“Fuck this castle,” I hissed to the wind. “Fuck this forest and the Fae – one Fae more than the rest. Fuck all of them and please, for the love of the spirits, don’t let me die while trying to climb out of a damn window.”
I reached towards the drainpipe, my fingers thankfully finding a gap to cling to at a midway point between me and my promise of salvation. Bit by bit, I eased closer to the black iron, clinging to the castle wall like a damn spider – though with far less grace to my descent.
When my hand finally met with the cool metal, I nearly sobbed with relief. I lurched across to it, my toes wedging against one of the fastenings which held it bolted to the wall before my other hand made it to the pipe too.
I clung to that rusted, iron pipe like a babe to its mother’s breast and tried to pretend I was shaking from the cold rather than the fear of the fall. I chanced a look down again, the drop still the same but somehow much less terrifying with a clear path to the ground now laid out for me.
I began to shuffle down the drainpipe, inch by inch, making my escape like the world’s most determined sloth. I didn’t care. This was my path to escape and it was all going to plan despite the odds.