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“Fuck,” wheezes out of me.
I’ve got a scream primed and ready, but that’s going to get me killed or caught, so I hold it back.Don’t freak out. Be calm.The wasps haven’t realized I’m here yet. I can still escape unharmed by the wasps, and men, as long as there’s no one outside searching for me.
I scoot slowly toward the opening of the hole and peer out. Over the buzzing, I hear feet stomping on twigs and leaves. Jerking back deeper into the hole, I try to calm my racing heart.
Fuck! They’re here, and they’re close.
My choices include getting stung to death by wasps or being captured by my kidnappers. The thing is, I haven’t pissed off the wasps yet, so I have time with them. Even though the thought of being so close to them makes my skin crawl. I know they can detect my breath, so I force myself to slow my breathing down and exhale away from the raging nest above me. I stay still, waiting. Listening.
A couple of male voices drift over the sound of the buzzing. Then, the crunching from the men’s feet, the sound so close that a chill rolls down my spine. A wasp lands on my arm. Another on my face. I try to breathe slowly. I try to ignore the way their legs tickle my skin. Most of all, I try not to picture their big stingers and the fact that when one attacks, so do more.
Time passes. Slowly.Painfullyslowly. As it does, the sounds of the men move further and further away. It takes a few minutes of holding still, as the wasps inspect my sweaty body, and the sounds of the men grow silent, but then, I know I can escape. If the wasps let me.
I wait longer. Sweat rolling down my back as wasps buzz in my ears, tangle themselves in my hair, and crawl along my exposed skin and even my face. But my patience pays off as the wasps slowly find something else to do, and I’m free of them, too.
It’s now or never.
I duck down and bolt out from under the tree, moving in the opposite direction of the men. Running as fast as I can, in the opposite direction of the men and the Death House, even though my legs ache with every movement, I don’t look back. My whole body trembles as I run, but all I can do is keep going, hoping to find another hiding place. Knowing the men are far too close and my escape plan working becomes less likely.
When the sound of running water comes to me, I switch directions to head toward it. I’ll need water to survive. And if I can escape them, I can follow the water to people. My grandmother always said that water leads to people. To civilization. But maybe I’m thinking too far ahead.
“I have to survive that long,” I say, panting with each word.
“But can you?”
I freeze in place as the shrill voice rolls down my spine, then slowly turn to the sound. A tree elf rests on a massive branch. His body nearly blends in with the tree he’s sitting on, even the grains of the tree are mirrored on his brown face and brown body. His large nose hooks out in front of him, standing at odds with his dark sunken eyes.
Tree elves can on occasion be helpful, but most of the time they’re just dangerous.Verydangerous, if the stories about them are true. A person is more likely to ask one for food, and be turned into a chicken, than to actually have the creature help them.
This is the last thing I need right now.
“I have to go,” I tell him. “I’m sorry.” I’m panting the words, eager to keep going, but I know better than to insult a tree elf.
He cocks his head, his thin lip curling in a curl expression. “Go to your death?”
My stomach flips. “No, go to safety.”
He shakes his head. “Death and despair cling to you like shadows. They haunt your every step. They are what you are, what you will never escape from. They are the things in the corners of your mind that separate you from the others.”
I’m shaking. “Thank you… for the warning.”
He bows his head. “May your rule over death be longer than she who birthed you.”
“Thank you,” I bow, moving backward, my knees practically cracking together as they shake, then I turn and continue running.
Will the men catch me?I move faster.They better not.
Not that I should be focusing on that right now. The sounds of the river are getting closer. I need to start searching for a hiding place. One I’m sure the men can’t find.
I can do that. I think.
Suddenly, my foot hits nothing at all, and I’m tumbling, falling, holding back a scream as I’m suddenly rolling down a grassy hill and then plunging straight through the grass, falling and falling until I hit the groundhard. When I manage to pull my heart out of my throat, I look up through the grass. I’ve fallen several feet through some kind of hole hidden beneath the long grass.
I move, testing my body.Fucking hell.Everything hurts, but nothing is broken.
Starting to crawl, I realize I’m right next to the water given the sound. It’s so loud that I’m worried I’m about to crawl out into it. But I don’t. Instead, I pop out of the thickest part of the grass and find myself in a dark area that looks almost like a cave. It takes me a long moment of blinking and looking around to realize that the roof of this tiny cave is made up of roots.
“I’m under a tree,” I whisper to myself.
