Page 41 of White Raven

I didn’t move. I barely breathed. Tension slowly eased from his muscles locked around me, his cries disappearing as sleep dragged him further down.

Finding that same peace was no longer in my capacity. Rattling with adrenaline, I tried to calm down, go back to sleep myself, but movement across the ground and ceiling caught my eye. The roots webbing through the tower stirred to life, breaking free into dozens of tiny pieces. The floor and walls moved, a wave breathing in and out, while tiny clicking noises chattered in a hum.

The things climbed over the saddle and reins the Northerner had set to the side, covering it like a blanket, and the sounds of chewing gnawed at my ear. A handful skittered cautiously toward me, and I lowered my lids, pretending to be asleep.

Their outlines developed as they approached. No more than two inches tall, the creatures were like tiny roots, the color of soot, torn from the ground with wispy pieces curling off their round heads like hair, twining around their bodies and limbs with a coating of moss. Two huge dark eyes dominated round faces with thin mouths.

Four of them crept closer, shoving one back until he was not part of their group. The one singled out was missing half of an arm, only a stub remaining. It lowered its head, like it knew it was an outcast, staying in place while the others scuttled for my hand. It took everything in me not to move, to jerk in fear when they clustered around the string on my wrist. One made a clicking noise, before its thin mouth opened.

Huginn-Muninn.

Sharp fangs protruded from its mouth. What the fuck? Did everything here have fangs? Its sharp incisors snapped down on the laces, the other three joining in like termites, gnawing on the fabric hungrily, breaking through the first string.

Then another.

Hope surged up my throat. The unanticipated idea of sudden freedom turned my thoughts dangerous. It was over a full day’s ride away from the border, but every day that distance would only grow. If I could get within reach of my kingdom, the king would have guards out hunting, probably already venturing into the Shadow Rift in search of me.

The bindings around my wrists split, rushing possibility into my veins. My body became in tune with my abductor’s, hearing his steady breath, the feel of his muscles relaxed in sleep. Yet I still did not trust he couldn’t somehow sense my motives. I lifted my head slowly, the action scaring the little critters, scuttling them away in an instant—but leaving the laces connecting me with my abductor in tatters.

Ever so carefully, I curved my head to him, my heart walloping against my ribs. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted in slumber. The dim light from outside gave enough definition to see his features, to call attention to the scar over his full lip, his cheekbones, the scruff along his jaw growing thicker. The tension showed in the crease between his brows, like he couldn’t flee from the nightmare he was trapped in.

Something in my belly twisted. The impulse to reach over and soothe it between my fingers had my body flushing hot and then cold.

Twisting away from him, my decision to flee became set in stone.

Painfully measured, I slithered free of his embrace, sweat dotting my hairline with every inhale and sigh he made. Getting my feet under me, I spotted one of the creatures still standing there, the one with the missing arm. It blinked at me from the shadows, the roots around it frail and wilted, as if it never got enough nutrients.

Picking up a remnant of the lace, I held it out to it. He darted away, but then stopped, peering back at me from behind an uprooted stone on the other side of the room, leading my attention to the scythe leaning against the wall. I held no weapons, nothing to protect myself from what was out there, including the Northerner.

Taking slow, methodical steps, I wrapped my fingers around the handle, picking up the weapon. It was heavy, but surprisingly balanced, feeling more like a sword in my hand.

Glancing back at the Night Raven once again, I tiptoed to the door, dropping the extra lace near the one-armed critter. It blinked up at me with its huge eyes, and I gave it a small smile before resuming my journey. My steps vigilant; I was terrified one wrong move across the crumbling floor would wake him up.

His punishment would be cruel. Degrading.

Trying to contain my heartbeat, I crept out the door, hearing a whoosh of breath reverberate inside my head, the air licking my face, inviting me to seek freedom.

My legs burst into a sprint, fleeing away from the tower. From him.

In perpetual twilight, I searched the sky for any sign the direction of the Day border would be. Where the sun might lighten the horizon, pointing me home. Following the road back the way I came would be the easiest solution, but it brought even more danger. The creepy townsfolk and terrifying Jackals lined that path. It was also the way he’d assume I’d follow, since he thought me silly and inexperienced. He would find I was missing, assume where I was going and hunt me down. If I hadn’t been found by other more frightening things first.

I had to keep off the roads, stay away from people.

Especially ones who wanted to eat me.

A large silhouette wandered within the trees. The draugrhest munching over the forest floor, its veins and muscles prominent under its midnight coat. Surprised it hadn’t run off, I slunk toward it, spotting my quickest way to flee.

Its nose nuzzled the ground, fangs digging into the dirt, yanking at plants. I heard the same cricket clicks as from inside the tower, but this time, the sound of crunching followed. The critters cried out, scurrying over the ground before the horse grazed over them, devouring several at a time. Wincing, I tried to ignore what was happening, the image of those cute little faces blinking up at me.

The horse’s head rose, huffing as I neared it.

“Hey . . .” I spoke softly, easing up to it, hands up. “I won’t hurt you.”

Its lids tapered, huffing again, like I was an idiot.

“It’s okay.” I used my most soothing voice, reaching out to touch its nose. It stomped its hind leg. I eased closer, my fingertips brushing the silky muzzle.

The horse jolted at my touch, baring its fangs at me.