Chapter Nine
Andi
My heart hammers in my chest. “Guards? Why? What could they want?” I ask, knowing full well Myles doesn’t have the answer.
“I don’t know,” Myles softly says beside my ear, “they look like Zury guards.”
“Why are Adrian’s guards here? What if they’re here for me?” All scenarios run through my head, each ending in me getting captured.
“We don’t know they’re here for you. How would he even know about you? They’re probably just passing through on their way back to Zury, causing their usual chaos.”
There’s a slight tremble in his voice, we both know it can’t be a coincidence—my magic appearing, the men in the woods, now the guards. But I don’t understand how they would know I was here.
The uproar in town sends cold shivers down my spine, like droplets dripping down an icicle.
Myles wraps me in his warm embrace; his usual calm demeanour slips for a moment while we acknowledge the foreboding sensation. His soothing touch calms me, easing my anxiety. I pray he is right. Now and again, they grace us with their presence, their awful blood red tunics are hard to miss.
“I should go check on Mum and Elana, make sure they’re ok. And not too peeved they have to stay at the inn.”
“I’ll come with you. No point opening the shop with the town like this. Easily attainable weapons might not be a great idea today.”
I tug the laces of my boots too tight, accidentally cutting off the blood circulation in my feet in a rush to find out what’s happening.
The sunlight burns my eyes. I let its heat radiate through my bones, releasing the tension that has been building within me for days, but the peace fades with shouting below overcoming my senses.
Folk fight back against the guards that are corralling them into every inch of the square.
Guards stand alert on the steps, bordering the square, strong-arming anyone who tries to flee.
All shops remain closed, no stalls in sight, everyone from all corners of town murmur amongst themselves; craning their necks, waiting for the reason for meeting the captain.
His vicious, lop-sided smile makes the hair on my arms stand to attention.
Myles’ tight-lipped and resigned face watches the guards, counting them as we make our way to the inn.
Meeting my worried gaze, he gives me a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
Gripping each other’s hands tightly, elbowing through the crowd, we find Mum and Elana waiting at the door of the inn.
“What’s going on? Have they said why they’re here?”
“No. They started showing up last night, according to the innkeeper. I’m going to find out. Stay with your sister,” Mum answers, taking a step out into the crowd, but Myles stops her.
“No, you stay here. I’ll go.”
Before Mum can reply, he gives my hand one last squeeze, his fingers slipping out of mine as he disappears into the crowd.
Folk yell and point at the guards. Men step in front of their wives and daughters, shouting profanities, trying to usher their family out of the square. Surrounded by wailing and angered voices, I pick my finger beds raw with the agonising wait.
Myles charges back through the crowd, forcing his way through like a bull with a red flag. Wyatt follows behind, wide-eyed and skittish. Myles grabs my arm and pulls me around the corner, into the alley beside the inn, beckoning the others to follow.
“They are looking for you.”
I inhale a sharp breath. Myles rubs my arm as he continues, “They have a decree from Adrian that allows them to investigate all women in Vendyl, searching for an unusual marking on their back.”
My heart thunders, and Mum gasps, wrapping her arm over my shoulder.
Wyatt says, “They aren’t telling the townsfolk why they’re looking, just that they may use ‘any means necessary.’ Myles and I agree that you should go. Right now.”
“Leave home. Leave you?” I say, looking at those I care about most. How can I leave them behind? I know I must, but that doesn’t make the choice any easier. Where would I go? How far is safe enough? Will I always have to hide?
My breathing becomes laboured, and the ground disappears beneath me. Myles grips my hands, leaning his forehead against mine. “Breathe… Close your eyes, feel the wind against your face, listen to the birds singing. Drown out the crowd. It’s just us.”
I do as he says, I block out the shouting, paying close attention to the birds chirping on the roofs, the warm breeze sweeping my face and toying with my hair. My heart and breathing abate as I focus on the deep russet shade of Myles’ eyes, admiring the gold hues that sparkle in the sun.
“It’s the only way to keep you safe,” Myles says, “we’ll go pack some essentials. Wyatt can saddle up Misty, then you and I will get as far away from here as we can.”
“You’re gonna come with me?” I ask, my eyes swell, and my body sighs in relief.
“Of course, I am. You’re stuck with me, love,” he replies, tugging me into an embrace. “I belong to you, remember,” he whispers in my ear.
I nod my head towards Mum, showing her it’s okay, that I’m okay. I don’t think any of us have a choice; they know it too.
I don’t want to find out why Adrian wants me.
Mum and Elana unwillingly agree to adhere to the guard's demands while Wyatt and I sneak through alleys back to the cottage. Myles, though dubious about leaving me, accepted the plan. Wyatt saddles up Misty, and I cram some clothes and Mum’s navy cloak into a leather backpack, tucking Dad’s box under some clothes.
My foggy eyes scan my bedroom, taking it in one last time.
Having shared this room with my sister for as long as I can remember, I commit every detail to memory: the drawings on the wall that no matter how hard Mum tried, could never be removed; the hideous curtains that Elana made when she first learned to sew, and the ‘organised’ mess she keeps.
Scratch marks on the door frame of Elana and I’s heights over the years.
I touch each marking until the two become three when Wyatt joined our little family.
Taking a shaky breath, I close the door for good.
Memories appear before me as I walk through the cottage, mirages of Dad dancing around the room with Mum, Elana, and I skipping beside them.
Sitting with Dad in his armchair, reading tales of dragons and adventures.
The echo of laughter bounces off the wall of the cottage, so full of life.
Will I ever see this place again?
My eyes burn as I close the door on the memories and ghosts of the past. I’m going to miss my gorgeous little cottage, the grey stones, the ever-growing ivy climbing to the roof, the birds that made the oak tree their home.
I always knew I would leave one day, though I thought I would be close by, with my own little family.
Perhaps with Myles beside the Willow tree.
At least he’ll be with me. I doubt he would stay behind if I asked him to.
Wyatt waits with Misty at the edge of the garden, saddled and ready to go. He silently walks with me to the bridge. It’s most unnerving, Wyatt has always been the type to break awkward silences.
Horrifying screams echo along the quiet streets of town. Any means necessary.
Each scream nips at my skin, leaving small marks of guilt. Reminders of every single female suffering at the hands of Zury guards on my behalf. A shame I will have to live with, allowing this to happen.
I could stop it. I could surrender. But I don’t have the strength to be their saviour.
Wyatt wraps his arms around my neck and squeezes tight. Clawing at his arms I gasp for breath. “Are you trying to kill me?” I splutter.
“Sorry. I’m gonna miss you,” Wyatt says, clearing his choked-up voice.
“Well, there’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” I joke as I tuck my backpack into one of Misty’s saddle bags.
Wyatt shoves me. “I’m serious, Andi. Take care of yourself.”
“I will. Promise,” I say, tightly gripping his hand, I pull him in again. “I’m going to miss you so much. Look after yourself, please.” He nods, blinking back tears.
The disturbance in town is so deafening that neither of us hears the crunch of footsteps behind us until it’s too late.
“Oi, where do you two think you’re going?”
As two guards approach us, hands resting on the hilt of their swords as they flank us, my head whips around.
One guard reaches for Misty’s reins. My mind races, knowing I could never get past, the road is too narrow, and they have positioned themselves to block me regardless.
Instead, I smile and plead ignorance, like nothing is wrong. Today is a normal day.
“Oh, hi there, we’re just about to leave, got some trade in Zephyr.” I feign a smile. Giving Wyatt a knowing look, he nods along, but his fists tighten beside me.
“Is that so?” one guard asks, looking at the other holding Misty’s reins. “Well, we don’t want to hold you up.” He looks me up and down. “You can be on your way as soon as you prove you have no markings on your back. Everyone has to comply.”
“She’s already been checked by one guard at the town square. Big guy, bald?” Wyatt snaps at the guards.
“Ah, you’ve met Terry.”
“Yeah, that’s him, nice guy,” he says through gritted teeth. “So, if you don’t mind us, we’ll be on our way.” Wyatt gestures to the side. I try to walk with Misty, but the guard keeps his grip on her reins.
He flashes me a toothless smile. “Never heard anyone describe Terry as ‘nice’ before.” He laughs, walking around Misty. “Don’t make this difficult, lovely.”
Both guards take a step forward, cornering me in. Wyatt throws a punch, landing on the closest guard’s jaw, knocking him to the ground.
“Run!”
I freeze in place. Wyatt swings at the second guard, but is met with the butt of his sword, and Wyatt collapses to the ground, blood oozing from his head. The guard turns his attention to me.
Willing my legs to move, I sprint as fast as I can.
Looking back sorrowfully at Wyatt, and Misty, who takes off directly for home.
I stumble as I hurry along the cobblestoned streets, tumbling into boxes piled high outside houses.
Folk loiter, gossiping about the guards and who they might be looking for.
The chatting stops as I hurtle down the road.
Townsfolk watch two guards chasing me, yelling for me to halt.
More guards turn their attention to me running from their comrades.
Crap.
Splinters dig into my skin as I grip hold of a door frame and soar around the corner into a small lane between houses. With nowhere to go, I duck behind a fence, hiding behind wooden crates. Guards follow me into the lane, searching around the yards.
At the door, the tenant appears curiously, taking in my disgruntled appearance. I beg him with my eyes to remain quiet.
He yells at the guards to get out of his garden, waiting for them to leave, and motions for me to come out. Hesitantly, I do, making sure no other guards are around. I nod in thanks to the man and peek around the fence before sneaking along the path.
I tug the hood down over my head, tucking in my hair. Watching each step I take, I make my way down the road towards the blacksmith’s. Sticking to the alleys, hiding behind boxes, and opening doors.
Words fail me as I reach the square. Females are lined up and shepherded into a pen like cattle.
I watch in horror as scared women shakily pull down their tops, tunics, or dresses to show that their shoulders have no marks.
Most do so voluntarily, showing their bare skin, knowing they have nothing to hide.
Some women refuse, preferring to keep their dignity, but are then met with a sword pummelling off their face, breaking a nose or jaw.
Neither gets away with it. If they are amenable, the guards take the ‘opportunity’ to lay their hands on the women, feigning consent.
If they refuse, the guards make them comply.
I wince every time a whip cracks or a bone crunches beneath the pummel of a sword. The crying is ear-splitting, the shrieks heart-breaking. I swallow the lump that’s growing in my throat and blink away tears, forcing myself on.
Another nip at my skin, each mark named for each female being hurt because of me.
They want me, and because they haven’t yet found me, they beat and humiliate these innocent women.
What can I do for them? Nothing, without damming myself.
I’m torn between wanting to help them and keeping myself safe from their claws.
I’m too much of a coward to do anything. Too craven to walk right up to the guards and show them who they’re looking for.
I can’t protect these women. So, I protect myself.
Slipping in the blacksmith’s door, I pull my hood down. Myles stands at the back, sheathing swords and daggers. He turns, surprised to see me here, but registers the pain in my face. Nothing he could say would help, not this time. If the guards caught me, I’d face worse.
“What happened? Are you okay?” he asks.
“Some guards found Wyatt and me while we were waiting at the bridge. They demanded I show them my back before they would let me leave. Wyatt punched one of them, but they hit him on the back of the head.” I pace back and forth.
“I had to leave him. He was bleeding so much, but I had to, they chased me through the streets. I ran as fast as I could to you.”
Myles strides towards me, wrapping his arms around me. “Breathe, love, Wyatt will be fine. We’ll be fine.” Taking a few shaky breaths, Myles reaches past me, picking up his bag. “Ready?”
We head out of the door, hoping to slip through the lanes, away from the crowd.
“There you are, lovely.”