Scarlen pulled off both her sweatshirts, tying them around her waist before attempting to rip the bottom of her t-shirt as a bandage. ‘Actually, we’d better use yours in case we get accused of swapping colours. Trust me, you don’t want time in a dark cell.’
‘Been there, done that.’ He flashed a cheeky grin as he tore his t-shirt. ‘When you’re aRebel, they find all the punishments possible for you.’
Scarlen helped bind his shoulder, feeling bad for cutting him. ‘I guess that’s what you get for trying to kidnap the princess.’ She didn’t even mean to say it, it just fell out of her mouth.
‘Fair enough, if that’s what we were doing.’
She tightened the binding and sat back, staring at him. ‘You make it sound as though you weren’t.’
‘What difference would it make?’ He checked over his wound, seeming happy, then glanced around.
‘It would make all the difference.’ She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What kind of statement is that?’
He circled one finger in the air, a smile in his gaze. ‘The trees have ears,’ he whispered in a sing-song kind of way, then darted off, waving her to follow.
It was his purple hair she caught sight of as he wove in and out of the trees. ‘Put some mud in your hair. You stick out like a beacon in the dark.’ She went to put some in her own locks, but someone covered in foliage ran at her, taking her by surprise. They hit the ground hard and scrambled, Scarlen getting in a few punches to the dirt-smeared face she could now see belonged to one of the women from Amber, eyes as wild as a storm.
The woman tried hard to secure Scarlen’s dagger but found her opponent was no pushover as Scarlen jumped to her feet, snarling.
‘Come on,’ spat Scarlen through clenched teeth, her blood boiling, the heat all around not helping. ‘You want me? Well, come on.’ She plunged the blade forward, and the woman fled back into the night, leaving Scarlen arguing with herself. ‘Argh!’ she yelled to the empty space before her.
Oxley stepped into view, a quirk about his brow. ‘You doing all right?’
‘I fucking hate this place,’ she snapped, then gulped the muggy air, able to inhale properly for the first time since the heat arrived. ‘I’m just …’ She locked eyes with him as the ground started to vibrate.
‘Watch your feet.’ Oxley motioned at the large fissures appearing around them.
‘What’s happening?’
He shook his head. ‘Jesserlie is messing with us. Just stay away from the cracks.’
Before she had time to reply, thick hedges rose from the crevices, rising higher and higher, shaking the ground, bringing the scent of pine, and blocking the path between her and Oxley.
‘Ox?’ she yelled, reaching for the hedge wall. ‘I have one either side of me.’
‘Me too. She’s created a maze. See if you can find the way out.’
Wiping sweat from her hairline, Scarlen started following the dark pathway, unsure of the point the prison witch was trying to make, if there was a point at all. The dry air took up a lot of concentration, and the need to get back to the pond was a priority.
It was quiet in the maze, nothing lurking in the hedges, no rustling of people on the other side. That alone brought wariness into the journey.
Keeping her weapon at the ready, Scarlen navigated the pathways as best she could, choosing a direction she felt was right when facing two options, never sure if water was close by or where the exit was.
A grunting sound had her still, straining her eyes towards the noise. A low roar followed, then the pounding of feet. No, hooves. Something was running, and whatever it was, it was heading her way.
Turning sharply, Scarlen ran, her head light, heart thumping. With no time to figure out the maze, she smacked straight into a dead end, and adrenaline swirled as she had no choice but to face her pursuer.
Saliva dripped from two sharp fangs of the hog-like beast that skidded to a halt to face Scarlen, its dark beady eyes carrying emptiness, its coarse brown fur crawling with parasites, its green tongue lolling in need of its own drink, which she hoped wasn’t her blood.
Steadying her breath while pointing her dagger its way, she balanced herself, ready for the charge. One of them was going down, and she was going to make sure it wasn’t her.
‘Well, I’m ready,’ she told the beast, her weapon secured, her nostrils flaring. ‘Bring everything you’ve got.’ Her message for all listening.
The creature cocked its head as though summing her up, then snorted, kicked a front leg backwards, then charged, its growl loud and fierce.
Scarlen inhaled, dug in her feet, then made her own run, her battle cry deep and filled with the anger of her life.
The beast leapt, reaching Scarlen’s chest, her dagger pointing, and as it landed upon her, it disappeared in a sparkle of grey dust, leaving her flat on her back, gasping.
