Chapter Twenty Five
Austin found Garry at the wall, much like when they had first met, “Gary.”
“What do you want?” he glared at her. She wasn’t impressed.
“I have to go outside the wall,” she said, almost pleading, “I have to see Aiden right away. The first day we met, you told me that you could take the wall down.”
“I lied,” he shrugged his narrow shoulders, much like she would. They did the same small things, all learned from Demitri. She wished that she could visit him before she left, but she was scared. She didn’t think she had enough time to do that.
“You’re finally curious about what he does on the outside of the wall?” Sage asked, appearing out of nowhere, like she often did. Austin nodded furiously, prepared to go along with any excuse she was given, “Well, go ahead.”
Sage rapped on the edge of the wall and a small section, only wide enough for her to fit through sideways, sunk into the ground. Austin gave Sage a grateful smile, and she could see that action shocked the earth dragon. She took one last look at the both of them, and then to the field that she had called home for just a few nights. She ran out the wall and into the forest, relying on fate to have her run into Aiden.
She was lucky today. She heard his voice wafting through the trees, growing clearer with every step she took North. She hadn’t yet crossed the river that circle Anathaem, so she guessed that she hadn’t travelled long. She heard a sick snap and a laugh and she stopped in her tracks, hiding behind the tree. Someone was with Aiden. Was it the captured chaos?
She hid behind the thick tree, listening. She should have known there would be people behind the wall. She closed her eyes and prayed that, whoever it was, wouldn’t notice her. As far as she knew, only Derrick had realized that she was a Halfling. Even so, she was a Fledgling, and Fledglings weren’t allowed outside the wall without their mentor. She would be taken back.
“Aren’t you tired of this?” Aiden’s voice made her stiffen, “Don’t you want it to end?”
A wet, painful sound. A gasp.
“Well, I wouldn’t be against you letting me go,” a familiar voice, but one that Austin could not place, said. That must be the chaos that Aiden had captured.
“I’ll let you go. But only if you tell me what you know,” Aiden hissed. Another hit. Another gasp.
“We both know,” the familiar chaos said again, “That I’m not getting out of here alive, no matter what you or I say or do.”
“Smart,” Aiden dropped something to the ground, “Maybe you’ll change your mind after lunch. Are you hungry?”
“A cup of coffee would be excellent,” the chaos said. Austin’s lips curled into an involuntary smile.
“Would it now?” Aiden said in a way that made it clear. He wouldn’t be bringing back any cups of coffee. Austin heard him walk away, the crunching noise of his footsteps becoming increasingly quieter.
She didn’t need to look.
She did not need to go into that clearing and see who that chaos was. What she needed to do was run after Aiden and tell him goodbye, tell him that she was leaving.
She peeked her head out from behind the tree. At first, she only saw the yellowing grass and fallen leaves. Her eyes swept through the small field, finally settling on the man in the center. He was facing away from her, so she could see that his arms and legs were tied behind his back. A coat was tossed haphazardly beside him, and she guessed that it was his. His shirt, dirtied to the point that she couldn’t tell what color it once was, was stained red in several places.
“Austin,” the chaos said her name, and she hid behind the tree once more, “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
“Again?” she couldn’t help but ask. She didn’t look at the chaos, but she took a step closer, wincing as the leaves crushed under her. She took another step, and another. Soon, she stood directly in front of him. Still, she didn’t look.
“I thought you’d have remembered me,” he said, “Maybe that was just me hoping. You were my best student, after all.”
Her head snapped up and she locked eyes with the chaos. His hair was messy, his face was cut in so many places, and he was underweight. He was a joke of the dignified, taken care of man that she used to look forward to seeing every day.
“Mr. Smith?”
Fledgling Page 26
