He sat a few feet away from her, fire-watching. Scrying. Something her mother’s soothsayer used to do.
Before her mother skewered the seer for having a vision that displeased the queen.
Personally, she’d never been able to see anything in the fire more than dancing flames, which made her wonder if they really saw anything.
Or if they simply made it up.
Obviously, Diflyn thought he could conjure the future. He stared as if he saw actors on a stage. And while he was distracted, she lifted her leg toward her hand. If she could just get to the dagger she had hidden there, she’d be able to free herself.
Don’t breathe.If she made a single sound, he’d know. She had to move slowly, cautiously.
And get that damn knife…
It was so close. The tips of her fingers brushed it, but she couldn’t quite get a grasp on the hilt.
Biting her lip, she had to force herself not to grunt or growl in frustration.
You can do it. Patience.
Fuck patience. She’d rather have reach.
Diflyn straightened as if he heard something.
Catching her breath, she lowered her leg and put her head back on the ground as silently as she could manage.
He snapped around to look at her.
Gisela feigned sleep.
Rising slowly, he approached her while she watched him from her barely opened eyes.
He squatted by her side, then put his hand by her nose and mouth.
She leveled her breathing in a slow and steady rhythm as if she were asleep. Her heart pounded as he remained by her side.
After what seemed to be forever, he rose and returned to his fire.
Only then did she dare let out a long breath to steady her nerves. She waited several minutes for him to become absorbed by the flames again before she returned to attempting to get her knife.
Just as she was certain it was a lost cause, she slid it from its sheath.
Victory!
It took everything she had not to shout in happiness as she quickly cut through the rope binding her hands. Watching Diflyn closely, she rolled silently and cut the bindings at her ankles.
She crouched low to the ground, keeping her knife in her fist.
Do I shift?
To do so would cost her the knife as she’d have no way to wield it. But to stay human…
It’d be harder to escape. Damn it.
Fine, I don’t need a weapon.
Aggravated by the choice, she turned herself into a small robin. She hopped away from the camp, toward the brush on her left. Once she was clear, she turned herself into a falcon and took flight.
She’d barely made the tree line before Diflyn realized she was gone. Concealing herself in the leaves, she gave him time to scream and curse.
