Jail would have been a considerable improvement to running blindly through the deadly Tellekane forest.
I stumbled over roots while claw-like branches cut at my face and clothes. Twigs snagged my braid and I almost lost my footing altogether when a low-hanging branch suddenly manifested directly in front of me.
I didn’t know what had happened to the constable. He could have been directly behind us or even beside us, but the moaning of the wind and the roar of leaves waving overhead paired with the frantic beat of my heart and our stumbling footsteps drowned out all other sound.
This forest was considered haunted for a reason. The growl of something fierce and feral chased us as we pushed forward, holding tightly to each other’s hands. Something brushed at my back and I let out a yelp. My boots grew heavier as mud caked the soles and clung to the hem of my gown.
Damn being a girl. This was why the Tenovian men shut their women away at night. We made terrible runners with our layers of fabric and impractical shoes.
If I ever made it to my kingdom, my first order of business would be to have all the dresses, petticoats, and corsets in the realm burned to ash. We would wear trousers like men.
“Dragon’s blood!” Oliver hissed when he nearly collided with a tree the width of a Heprin cottage. He stumbled to a stop, still clinging to my hand. “I think we lost him.”
I wheezed, the cool night air stinging my lungs with every inhale. I glanced around wildly but could only see a few feet in front of me. The night was oppressive beneath the forest canopy, as thick and blanketed as anything physical. “How can you tell?”
“I can’t,” he panted. “But I’d rather take my chances with him than die by running headfirst into a tree. Not very dignified, is it?”
“No, rotting in jail is infinitely more distinguished.”
“Exactly.”
“Exactly?”
He ignored my sarcasm. “Now what?”
“What do you mean, now what? We’re in the middle of a spooky forest with no hope of finding the road again in the dark. We just ran away from a Tenovian constable because we don’t have travel papers and are therefore in this country illegally. And what little hope there was of a hot meal has been extinguished. I suppose the only thing left to do is lie down and die.”
“Well,” he huffed. “You’re awfully grumpy.”
I decided not to answer him. Instead, I counted to ten.
The bushes shivered nearby.
“What was that?” Oliver yipped.
I found myself squeezing his hand. “I don’t know,” I whispered. “A squirrel?”
“An owl perhaps. They’re night creatures.”
The bushes moved again, a violent shaking that started at the bottom and quivered to the very top. I squinted into the darkness but could only see a vague outline of the towering hedge. “Maybe it’s our constable?”
Oliver nodded and his entire body jerked with the movement. “He’s found us,” he squeaked. “He’ll drag us back to jail and lock us away for the night.”
“And he’ll have a hot bowl of soup waiting for us. And a bath.”
“I don’t think they have baths in prison,” Oliver argued.
I squeezed his hand even tighter as we waited for the rustling to become something more substantial.
In hindsight, we should never have stopped running. But I blamed fear for freezing us in place. Fear and morbid curiosity.
Suddenly the hedge split in two. The towering branches cracked straight down the middle as if struck by lightning. A great wildebeest burst forth, snorting at the ground and tossing its twin horns in the air. It stamped its feet and bucked its leathery hide. Beady red eyes glowed in the darkness, trained on us, before it lunged with a gurgling shout of hunger.
We stayed frozen for one second longer, just long enough for us to picture what death would be like beneath those thick, twisting horns, too surprised and terrified to do anything. I let out an ear-splitting scream—or possibly that was Oliver—and we took off running again.
The wildebeest had no trouble following us through the treacherous forest. Its hooves were better suited for the knotted roots that rose from the ground like the rocky cliffs against the Crystal Sea. It snarled and grunted as it chased us deeper into the twisted abyss, its thick hide bouncing off the rough bark without feeling. Our saving grace was that the predator was as wide as it was tall and couldn’t always fit through the narrow spaces between the trees like we could.
My lungs began to ache, and my throat burned. My feet dragged as mud collected on my boots. I was fit from eight years of endless temple chores, but it had been a long day and we’d already been running for quite some time. Making progress took every last ounce of strength.
“We need to do something.” I squeezed Oliver’s hand. “We need to go up!” If we hesitated even once, the beast would impale us for our indecision.
Oliver and I let go of one another’s hands at the same moment. We leapt for the lower hanging branches of a massive tree. My fingers slipped against the slick bark, but I dug my nails in and planted my feet against the trunk. The mud that had been slowing me down now worked to adhere my feet to the slippery trunk.
I used my last bit of energy to pull my legs up and wrap them around the branch. I had just arched my back when the beastie charged beneath me. My hanging gown rustled from the wind produced by the force of his charge. I thanked the Light that the feral creature was too short and fat to jump.
The wildebeest charged into a neighboring tree, its pointed horns making a great crack as it hit the solid trunk. Undeterred, it pulled them free and stampeded back toward us. Oliver squealed when the deadly horns brushed his back, tearing a hole in his monk’s robe.
I almost laughed at the quickness with which he scrambled
