Chapter Twelve
Andi
Myles and Mum ponder over the map, disagreeing about the best route to take that will get us to Yiren quickly and safely, while I pick at my already bleeding fingers. My usual calming techniques should have stopped me long before I got to this point, but then again, I’ve never had so much worry.
Mum argues with Myles that the mountain pass is the choice she and Dad would have taken, but Myles is adamant we would be safer hiding right under Zury’s nose, sneaking past the city undetected.
My thoughts are as far away from the conversation as is possible, staring out the window, watching the townsfolk rush away with packed bags, clutching possessions under their arms. I daydream; creating a fairy tale in my head, one where I’m not some magical heir who is going to be running for her life in the very near future. That I am just Andi. Daughter of a woodworker and healer. Raising a family in the same town where I grew up.
Living a safe, uneventful life.
My illusion is burst by a thundering of hooves that rumble and shake the entire cottage to its bones.
Jumping to my feet and straining my neck, I witness a cascade of horses galloping up the road, crossing the bridge two at a time. Torches light the way, the red and orange flames reflecting off silver armour, illuminating the golden spires in the middle of the breastplates. The deep red flag with mirroringspires, flies in the wind above the horses, proudly announcing their arrival from Zury.
“Guards. So many guards. We need to leave.” I claw at his arm. “Myles, we need to go right now,” my voice cracks.
Slowly drowning in a sea of panic, my lungs are paralysed. I gasp for breath, but the more I draw in, the more light-headed I become. Movement outside the window catches my eye, two guards stomp up our garden path.
“Oh no, they’re coming,” I whimper, ducking under the window. Myles slides off the chair, crouching down beside me and squeezes my shoulders, hushing me.
Mum lifts the rug, revealing a hatch I’ve never seen before. “Quick, in here.”
Myles lifts me to my feet, but my legs are frozen in fear. Sensing my inability to move, he pulls me forward, guiding me towards the opening and lowers me down into the filthy crawlspace beneath the house. Tucking myself into the furthest corner possible, I shuffle around to get in a comfortable position, but being unable to stretch out my legs, it’s no use. Myles climbs in behind me, squashing himself in with his knees bent at either side of my head. Mum lowers the door of the hatch, locking it in place.
I have never been one for phobias, not until this moment. My heart races, and the air is thick with dust; I have to cover my mouth with my hands to breathe. Myles wraps his arms tight around me. He always knows how to calm me when my panic attacks appear. Although they have become much more frequent of late.
“Open the door.”
A man’s voice bellows through the cottage. The urgency in his voice is crystal clear. The door opens with a loud creak, heavy footsteps thud, and residue floats around us with each booming footstep on the old floorboards. Throwing my arms over myface to keep the dust from scratching my eyes, Myles lies quiet behind me, still as a statue.
The pounding of footsteps moves further into the cottage.
“How can we help you, sir?” Mum asks kindly.
“Hi there, ma’am. We’re here to investigate the attack in town today. What do you know about it?” a low and hoarse voice says.
“Oh, I’m sorry, we weren’t in town today. What happened?” Mum imitates concern.
“A witch killed some guards,” the hoarse voice answers. On cue, Mum and Elana gasp.
“Obliterated, actually,” another voice spits. “None of you were in town today. Never saw or heard anything?” the second man hisses, his feet trudge along the ground, the dust and debris reduces as he moves further into the cottage.
Mum gasps. Chair legs screech across the floor. “Oh no, that is sad news. Who would do such a thing?”
“Townsfolk said it was a young witch, someone local.” The man with venom in his voice pauses, “Funnily enough, no one seems to know who she is or what she looks like.”
“Can you imagine, in a small town like this…” The first man says, his voice full of suspicion. “What happened to you?”
Wyatt clears his throat, “Got into a bar fight last night, some idiot was trying to cheat at cards. I didn’t like getting called out for it.” Trust Wyatt, always so quick-witted.
The guards walk back our way, the floorboards creaking and groaning with their heavy footsteps. I bite my fingers to stop myself from making a sound.
The talking lowers to a quiet grumble, then the door slams shut. I sigh in relief. My body aches from remaining still in an uncomfortable position for so long.
I remain still, listening to the silence above, wondering if the guards took prisoners. But then there was no sound ofconfrontation. So, I remain idle, waiting for any sign that they haven’t left us alone to rot in this hole, slowly suffocating.
Rustling and quiet murmurings come from above, I hold my breath and strain my ears, trying to make out words. At the words, ‘sure’ and ‘gone,’ my heart leaps in hope.
