My brows knitted together as I listened to the camp.
Something wasn’t right. Carefully, I shuffled and peered around. From the sounds of various snores and grunts, it appeared their guard had fallen asleep, but I had to be certain.
With my pulse spiking, I carefully sat and squinted into the night. Were they all asleep?
Pumpkin snorted. I may struggle to see, but the pony didn’t.
Sending out my gift, the pony answered, nickering softly, his head bobbing in response. They slept!
I was about to hail him, but froze the thought before it left my mind. His hooves would surely rouse one of the hunters. I’d have to get to him. I shuffled to my knees, my heart roaring in my ears. Filling my lungs, I moved first one foot, then the other, till I stood in the thick woollen socks they’d begrudgingly given me. I whimpered at the flash of pain in my throbbing ankle. My bound hands trembled as I stretched them out to balance me.I’d no idea if anyone would see me, or even if I’d trip on them. I reached out to Pumpkin, who snorted in answer.
Following the thread, I padded my way towards the pony, halting at every grunt. My body prickled, anticipating a pair of heavy hands grabbing me at any second. Sweat formed, chilling my skin in the frigid night air. I almost sobbed with relief as a warm nose, soft as velvet, nuzzled my cheek.
I tested the rope binding me, thanking Evella as I found it already fraying and thin enough for Pumpkin to chew through. He willingly obliged. I closed my eyes as his teeth gnawed the rope, certain this was the point where my escape failed. When they’d punish me, but the rope slipped silently from my torn wrists.
A few seconds later, I sat on his back, running my hand down his neck and leaning forward to place a kiss on his head. As the pony left the camp, I couldn’t be sure whether his hooves or my thundering heart would wake them.
After a few moments, I exhaled heavily, unsure when I’d last taken a decent breath. We had to get some distance before we broke into a canter. I had to be far enough from the hunters, and the arrows I’d spied in their wagon.
I cursed as the first splinter of blush spilt over the shadowy horizon, announcing the dawn. The landscape was mortifyingly barren. As soon as they woke, they’d know I’d escaped and, although I wouldn’t see them, they’d certainly see me. I peered back over my shoulder, squinting at the hazy outline of the wagon growing blurrier with every step the pony took. I squeezed my thighs, and Pumpkin broke into a trot.
He was taking us towards Graig Du, where I’d be able to hide in the caves. My chest tightened. I was going to do this. I’d be free as soon as I?—
Angry shouts carried across the desolate land, and I cursed Evella. I wasn’t going back to them. If they wanted to take me, I’d make sure I destroyed them first.
CHAPTER 33
Evella gazed at her husband – the God who laid his universe at her feet – and her heart split. His love was nought but obsession. Turning away from Vyrus, she returned to Eusis, to us.
— THE HISTORIES AND PROPHECIES OF THE STAR-CROSSED GODS: CHRONICLES OF VYRUS
Coughing, I spat out the ashy dust Pumpkin’s hooves threw up as we tore towards the dark stain of Graig Du. The little pony had a huge heart, but the hunters had ill-treated him for too long. His steps faltered as we approached the shadowy mound, and a rock settled in my guts knowing he couldn’t go on much longer.
My heart stuttered as the light grew. I squinted towards the dark hills, my breathing hitching at what appeared to be huge, obsidian skeletons standing guard. The pony continued forward, the thunder of his hooves ebbing with each passing second. No fear came from the little steed. There was no doubt I could trust him as I did Pablo.
I took a furtive glance over my shoulder. Something hovered on the horizon. As the hunters had been the only other form of life out here, I could only assume it was them. From what I’d learned of these hills, they were littered with caves. Caves where I could hide in wait for my pursuers.
But I wasn’t outrunning anyone – I was attempting to evade elite hunters, relentless trackers, in a bleak landscape, with no provisions or weapons.
‘If you let me survive this, Evella,’ I muttered, ‘I’ll become a damned Sister myself.’
As Pumpkin faltered, the skeletons came into view. Squinting, I blew out a relieved breath. They were no ebony bones, but trees. Decaying, blackened, spindly trees. The pony stumbled. I slid forward, begging him to halt as his sides heaved. I jumped down, wincing at the sting in my still throbbing ankle.
Squinting over my shoulder, I cursed as the blobs on the horizon gained ground at a terrifying rate. I grabbed his halter and dragged Pumpkin through the trees at the base of the cliffs. My skin prickled as we wove our way through, trying our hardest not to touch the pitch black forest. Each tree was devoid of vegetation; not a single leaf, no grass under our feet, not even a sliver of moss. No birds sang from their branches. At this point I’d have welcomed a glistening web, shining with early morning dew, as some sign of life.
A shred of bronze broke free through the onyx trunk. Amber or perhaps the Vyrium we sought. A shout – so much closer than I expected, forced a stream of quiet curses from my lips.
We stumbled through the trees, the ground littered with Graig Du’s dark stones. Pumpkin snorted, pulling on his halter. I froze, ice pooling in my guts as the only sounds were our ragged breaths, my deafening pulse. Everything about this place was a warning to flee.
The land rolled upwards, a writhing mass of shadow, towards the cliffs and caves.
Pumpkin whickered, tugging against my hold. I sent a message to slow his heartbeat, urging him to calm. Winding our way through the thinning trees, I sent a silent prayer to Evella they’d provide us with some cover. The little horse would never manage the cliffs, but the thought of leaving him here to be found by the hunters filled me with guilt. I hesitated as I gazed up, shielding my eyes from the white glare of the sun’s rays, a knot twisting within. I swallowed, my breaths ragged at the unmistakable crack of a twig snapping.
They’d found me.
Grabbing Pumpkin, I kissed his neck and told him to double back, hoping he’d lead them away. As grateful as I was for his rescue, I’d nothing to offer the little pony except death. I limped forward, the safety of the caves a short, painful climb away.
I tripped over a blackened stump, falling hard to the ground when a multitude of screams, male screams, rent the air. Furrowing my brows, I peered over my shoulder, desperate to calm my heaving breaths. Were the hunters fighting? I bit my fist as a sack – no, a body I realised with a shudder – fell with a thud, and buried my face into the ashy ground.
