She tore through the forest, wet leaves slapping at her face, twigs catching her hem. She knew that the Keep was behind them, to the north, and so she headed north. It might even be quicker to go through the forest instead of following the road.
If I were a fast runner, I could have stuck to the path and simply concentrated on outpacing him. I’m nae confident that Icouldoutpace him, though. He’s a large man, but I feel as though he is deceptively quick.
In her mind’s eye, she saw him scything through the attackers, his sword glinting, quick as a flash. She wondered briefly if he was cold from the rain, which plastered his shirt to his skin. That thought sent heat pulsing through her, and she scolded herself,shaking her head. The last thing she needed was a distraction right now.
She paused in a clearing, tilting her head, and tried her best to listen.
I probably look like a deer at bay,she thought grimly.Like a prey animal.
She could hear no sound of approaching footsteps, no warning rustles or creak of branches pushed aside. Surely a man of Ryder’s size would not move quietly. He would certainly make a noise coming through the forest; of that she was sure.
She headed off again at a run. Not the frantic, headlong dash that had initially propelled her into the forest, but a slower, more controlled jog she was confident she could maintain for a good long while. Long enough to reach the Keep. As she jogged, Megan hesitantly wondered what Ryder might do to ‘punish’ her once he caught her.
Somehow, the idea that he would hurt her—beat her, tie her up, or something awful—did not occur to her. That is, shedidthink of it, but dismissed the idea.
He’s nae that kind of man. I cannae say how I ken, but I do ken.
I hope I’m right.
A rustle echoed in the forest somewhere off to her left, and Megan froze, tilting her head, listening. The rustle didn’t come again, but her anxiety did not fade away.
It could have been anything,she reminded herself.A rabbit, a deer… anything. Even water filtering down from the tops of the trees.
The rain seemed lighter inside the forest. It still fell, of course, and the ground was thick and miry, but most of the raindrops were caught up in the trees, preventing them from falling.
The forests, of course, loved the rain. The thick old tree trunks soaked up whatever they could from the ground. The grass and undergrowth glowed a vivid, healthy green, and the clean, earthy smell of petrichor filled Megan’s senses with every breath.
There was something tantalizing, somethinginvigoratingabout it all.
Her lungs were starting to burn, probably due to her heart hammering wildly in her chest.
It was time to take a break, even if only for a few minutes. She ducked down behind a clump of bushes, crouching low to the soggy ground, andbreathed.
The key to pursuit, she knew, was patience. Patience was necessary for the hider and the chaser. She’d learned that long ago, when playing hide and seek with her sisters.
People lost their nerve and bolted out of their safe spots. People also grew impatient and started to make noise, tramping around and shouting out stupid things like, ‘Whereareye?’ as if there was going to be an answer.
You had to be patient. You had to stay still, take stock, and breathe. You had to…
At that moment, a figure stepped out of the bushes, walking noiselessly across the grass, quiet as a ghost.
Megan froze, jaw dropping.
It was him. It washim. He’d even stopped to sling his cloak over his shoulders again!
How did he catch up so quickly?She thought, bewildered.And he made nay noise!
That didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was here now. Whatever game they were playing, Megan didnotintend to lose. She waited, breathless, until Ryder passed by her and melted into the undergrowth again. He hadn’t even glanced around him, but it was shocking to see how close he was.
I mustnae underestimate him again,she thought grimly.
She waited for a few more minutes to be sure that he was gone and then slipped out of her hiding place. She had no intention of staying there, or of rushing in panic in the opposite direction. Ascarefully and quietly as she could, she slunk over to a large oak tree. Glancing around once more, Megan began to climb.
She’d always been good at climbing trees. Long, heavy skirts and damp cloaks made climbing more difficult than was ideal, but she knew what she was doing, at least. Her boots were good and didn’t slip on the mossy bark. She hauled herself upwards, bit by bit, until she was nestled in a forked bough about halfway up the tree. The foliage should hide her from anyone looking up from below.
However, she had noticed one thing about people—they always forgot to look up. They tramped through life with their eyes on the road ahead of them, or even fixed on their own feet, and took the sky for granted. She was fairly confident that Ryder wouldn’t spot her.
But then, ye were fairly confident that you’d be able to slip away from him, remember?She reminded herself.Ye must stop underestimatin’ him.
