Chapter 23 Tiana
Iwoke from a fitful sleep surprised to find I was no longer in a cramped prison but laid out on a bed of pine needles and leaves beside a small campfire. Both my wrists and ankles were secured by ropes that scored angry lines across my skin.
The crisp air was thick with the scent of mountain pine.
As my mind cleared, I glanced around to find the cart just off the dirt road, tethered to a tree by a heavy rope. The horses and masked men were nowhere to be seen. In fact, I couldn’t hear anything other than the sounds of a forest at night and the soft crackling of the burning wood.
I tested the ropes on my wrists and sighed as they refused to budge, then turned my focus to the rope around my ankles.
I wiggled my foot and bent it as straight as I could.
After a few moments of uncomfortable squirming, my left foot popped free, followed by my right.
I stared at the rope as it slipped to the ground.
My heart stilled, then began to pound.
My eyes darted about the clearing, sure blackened eyes watched my every move.
But none did.
I was alone.
Blinking at my now unbound feet, barely believing my good fortune, I tried to stand.
The world wobbled. A thousand needles pricked my skin and nearly sent me toppling to the ground.
I braced myself against a tree and waited for warmth to return to my legs before attempting to move again.
It felt like an eternity before the itching faded and I could move freely.
Even then, my ankles throbbed and my shoulders ached.
Wasting as little time as possible, I stumbled into the forest.
My mind raced with images of everything I was running from: the robed men, the rolling coffin, the endless possibilities of how the journey might end if I couldn’t free myself.
What do those men want with me?
Where were they taking me?
Tears streaked my cheeks.
The glassy eyes of the masked men seemed to stare from behind every tree.
My skin pimpled against the chilly breeze.
Twigs lashed my arms and face.
I felt none of it.
I was free.
It was dark and tough to navigate, but slivers of moonlight peeking through the ever-shifting forest canopy guided my way.
I’d made it a half league from the campfire when I heard someone clomping through the forest. I scurried toward a few large boulders and threw myself behind the largest stone, tucking into a ball as the rustling grew closer.
My breath caught as torchlight illuminated the clearing, and I thought my heart might leap out of my chest.
I was hungry, weak, and cold.
After an eternity in a box, then racing through the woods, my breathing labored. I tried, but it wouldn’t settle.
“Whoever’s there, come out now and you won’t be harmed,” a stern voice ordered.
I tried to hold my breath and remain still. I would not go back in that box; they’d have to kill me first.
After a moment, the man’s voice darkened. “Don’t make me come back there. Rangers don’t like surprises in our mountains, especially after dark.”
I sat up and peered over the top of the boulder, finding a man wearing the deep green cloak of a Ranger standing before me; but as I gained my footing, two of the robed men blundered through the foliage, panting heavily from their chase.
Terror stabbed at my chest.
I ducked back down and pressed my body against the cold stone.
The Ranger’s bow drew back, its distinctive cry I knew well from my youth. Then he spoke, “Stay where you are. What are you doing in the woods after dark—and why are you wearing those masks?”
“We lost one of our own,” one rasped. “A young woman. She wandered from our campsite some time ago, and we are . . . worried for her safety in these dark woods.”
I found some sliver of courage and peeked over the boulder. Only the top of my head and eyes were visible. I hoped the shadows kept me hidden. If they were coming for me, though, I had to know.
My breathing had steadied somewhat, but I struggled to control my shivering.
The second my head appeared above the boulder, the Ranger sensed movement. His eyes darted toward me, locking with mine. Unsure, I ducked back down.
The Ranger hesitated only a second. “I’ve been patrolling these woods all night and haven’t seen anyone, but it’s a wide range. She could be anywhere. I can help you look for her, but it will be morning before I can get more of the Rangers to join us. From the looks of your robes and shoes,
you’re not dressed for a mountain search anyway.”
“We cannot return without her,” the robed man insisted.
“She’ll be cold by now—and lost. I’ll go back to the station and get my pack, along with some medical supplies and a blanket. I know this mountain well and can cover it quickly. You two will slow me down more than help. Go back to your camp and wait. I’ll let you know when I find her.”
After an eternity of silence, I heard the robed men’s footfalls as they returned the way they’d come.
I stirred, but the Ranger whispered, “Stay where you are. They stopped nearby and are watching to see what I do next. I don’t think they saw you.”
I froze.
Drained by exhaustion and fear, I pressed my forehead against the stone and closed my eyes, hoping the masked men would leave quickly. The idea of either of them spotting me, of the chance they might recapture me, was almost more than I could take.
The Ranger continued his faux search of the area, kneeling as if asking the forest floor for answers.
The rustle of pine needles.
The crack of twigs.
The soft thudding of his steps.
Then nothing.
The men did not come back and demand I be handed over.
They didn’t return at all.
Another twenty minutes crawled by before the Ranger’s soothing voice drifted over the boulder. “They’ve gone. You can come out now.”
I untangled my tight, sore legs and stood, peering over the boulder to find the Ranger watching, his bright eyes assessing.
A deep green cloak drooped off his lanky frame, and unkempt hair the color of spilled ink sprouted from under a murky brown cap.
A quiver of arrows rose over one shoulder, and a long knife in a weathered scabbard dangled from his belt.
A bow lay propped against a tree nearby.
“It’s okay, miss. Come on out. I’m Ranger Wilk. Donovan Wilk.”
The cautious, protective voice inside my head vanished as I hurtled from behind the boulder and blundered into Wilk, knocking him back a step. He had to wrap his arms around me just to stay upright.
I pressed myself close and began sobbing uncontrollably as the last of my control slipped away.
“Miss, you’re safe now. Easy,” a startled Wilk whispered. “Tell me what’s going on. I need to know what we’re dealing with before it tries to deal with us.”
I startled as the Ranger pulled his dagger from its sheath and reached for me.
His brows rose, then he motioned toward the ropes binding my wrists.
I closed my eyes and breathed out, willing calm I didn’t feel to enter my body and mind, then held out my arms so he could cut me free.
“Thank you. Spirits, that hurt,” a distant, unfamiliar voice escaped my lips as I tried to rub life back into my hands.
I was startled that I didn’t even sound like myself.
My throat was raw from crying, and my tongue was so dry it rasped like sandpaper against my teeth.
The sleeping draught they’d given me hadn’t likely helped.
“Please take me somewhere safe. There are three of those men. They kidnapped me as I was walking home. I’ve lost track of how many days have passed because they kept me drugged in the bed of a cart.”
I shuddered at the first memory of waking and realizing where I was.
“It feels like we’ve been riding forever. I woke up about an hour ago by a campfire, and the cart was there, but the men weren’t. I tried to get away from them, but I don’t know how far I can go on my own. Please, please. You have to help me.”
He eyed me a moment, testing the truth of my words, then nodded once. “All right. My station’s not too far from here, up this mountain. It’s not the easiest climb, but I’ll help you up. I want to hear everything, but not until we’re back at the station. Last question for now. What’s your name?”
“I’m Tiana.”
“Tiana, everybody calls me Donny. Well, that’s what I think the animals call me. They’re about all I see these days.”
He chuckled with an awkward, oddly comforting smile.
“Let’s stay quiet until we get to the station, okay? I’ll snuff the torch to make it harder to spot us. My Gift is Night Vision, so we’ll be fine without it. Just stay close and follow my steps.”
As Donny led me on a winding trek through the forest, my mind raced. I thought I saw robed men everywhere, stumbling twice when I heard some animal fleeing our approach.
Donny reached out and took my hand after the second stumble, guiding me forward.
He was clearly at home in these mountains; still, it took a little more than an hour to make it to a tiny cabin on stilts Donny called Station Twelve.
Safely inside, I fell into a chair and my sobs returned, a storm of emotions overpowering me.
Once the clouds opened, the true storm raged.
Donny grabbed a blanket and gently wrapped it around my shoulders, then placed his calloused hand on my arm while using his other to lift my chin.
I didn’t mean to flinch at his touch.
“Tiana, you’re safe now. I promise. Just try to breathe while I start a fire and make us something hot to drink. Don’t make yourself sick with crying.”
I wanted to be angry.
How condescending was it for him to tell me not to cry?
After all I’d been through, a good cry was exactly what I needed; but I couldn’t find the will to be angry with the boy in the man’s uniform, with his kind eyes and lopsided grin.
He meant well. I knew that. Neither of us knew how to act following a rescue from cultist kidnappers.
I placed my hand over his and whispered through tears, “Thank you, Donny. Thank you.”
Donny had saved my life; I was sure of it. I was grateful in a way words could never fully convey.
By the time he’d hung a pot of water over the flames, I felt some of my old heart return. Strength had also returned to my voice. It no longer rasped or quavered, at least, not as it had when he’d first found me.
“I’m a Healer in Saltstone. They took me while I was on my way home from the infirmary a few nights ago.”
“Saltstone?” He whistled. “The capital’s a month’s hard ride from here, a week more with a cart.”
I replayed what I could remember of my journey through the drug-induced haze I’d endured. There were holes in my memory, but I pieced together what I could.
Donny listened without interrupting.
“After so many days in a traveling box, most would have given up,” he said.
“I just wanted to be free of them.” I yawned. “They never said why they wanted me or where we were headed . . . and they kept calling me Mistress.”
“Mistress? That’s strange.”
I nodded and yawned again.
“Tiana, forgive me. You must be exhausted.” He scrambled to his feet. “Why don’t you take the bed. I’ll keep watch while you sleep. In the morning, we can finish sorting this mess out.”
I wanted to thank him again, but words failed as I crawled onto the bed and sank into the comfort of warm, heavy blankets. For the first time since being captured, I slept peacefully and dreamed of a quiet house with a picket fence and an old dappled mare.