The idea of finding some place warm and safe to rest has me scrambling down the side of the bank, my cautious resolve all but abandoned. I try to slow down and place my feet carefully, hoping the climb will be easy, but it doesn’t take long for me to realise that the further I go, the steeper the bank becomes.
Soon I am holding on for dear life, gripping on to anything I can wrap my cold, numb fingers around. The sound of my heart thundering in my ears increases the panic and I press my forehead onto the damp rock bank, trying to force myself to calm down.
How do I always manage to get myself into these situations? What else can possibly go wrong for me? Honestly, when is it going to end?
My entire body is trembling, exhausted and overwhelmed by the day’s events and I can barely hold on anymore.
Shallow breaths are making my head spin and I swallow forcefully, pulling my head back to look above me, needing something solid and steady to focus on to settle the dizzy feeling consuming my mind.
What little sky I can make out through the clearing of branches has changed, bringing forth a sprinkling of lights from the hundreds of visible stars, transforming the night into a magical entity.
Slowly I release my vice-like grip on the stone, carefully picking my way down, taking my time even as my mind screams out to hurry.
The loud crack above me is so unexpected that I scream out – my strangled cry echoing across the valley as lightning flashes, illuminating the entire sky. With the sudden burst of light, I can see that I’m still about six metres from the ground, a hell of a long way for someone who is barely hanging on as it is.
The sound of rain falling from the sky, hitting the canopy of trees before reaching me is like a thousand feet running through the forest. The heavy rain assaults my body, drenching me completely within seconds and turning the moss covered stone dangerously slippery beneath my fingers.
When a second crash of thunder resonates from above, I flinch, the sudden, uncontrolled movement dislodging several rocks, leaving me scrambling to hold onto anything secure. It is a useless effort and before I know it I lose my grip completely.
Tumbling down the rest of the bank I reach out, desperately trying to grab hold of anything to stop my fall, only to have my hands slide across the muddy slope, my fingers clutching at nothingness, unable to save myself.
The last three metres is nothing but a solid drop and I free-fall, flying through the air so quickly I barely have time to brace myself for the inevitable impact.
Chapter Eight
My legs hit the ground first, sliding out under me until my back lands onto the sharp rocks below. My head hits the stone hard, bouncing back up as if landing onto a trampoline and I lie there, watching the rain fall down from the darkened sky, washing away the blood seeping from the back of my head, unable to stop agonising over why the hell bad things keep happening to me.
I’m a good person; I’ve done good things in my life; cared for others, graduated from high school at the top of my class and was fully invested in studying psychology at university before being ripped out of my life. I’ve never done anything to hurt anyone, nor have I broken the law in any way. Why then is karma so obsessed with screwing me over?
I drag myself upright, wincing as both my head and my right leg scream out in pain. Sighing in defeat I rest against the rock bank, sitting in a muddy puddle and give myself several seconds to let the depression of my crummy life consume me. Finally, once I’ve wallowed long enough, I gently probe at the back of my head, my fingers coming away coated in thick sticky blood as I feel a large gash leading down towards my neck. Without being able to see how bad the injury is I instead focus on my leg.
The pant leg has ripped, revealing a severe graze covering from my knee to my ankle. Bits of stone and mud are embedded deep into the wound and my face screws up in disgust at the sight. Pulling the material back, I angle my leg to allow the rain to wash away the debris as best as it can.
Uncontrollable shivers wrack my body and I know no matter how much I want to, I can’t just sit here in self-pity too much longer. Gritting my teeth, I lean heavily against the bank, dragging myself up to a semi-standing position with the sheer willpower of not wanting to die out here on the forest floor.
Taking my first step towards the bridge, my head spins, and for a moment I’m sure I will crumble to the ground in a heap once again.
Anger for everything I’ve been through builds in my chest, each and every terrifying and painful moment flashes through my mind and the hate that willingly floods into my bloodstream fills me with warmth, which slowly unclenches my rigid body, pushing me forward with strength I am unused to.
Within a few unsteady steps, I can feel the burning warmth working its way around my entire body, giving me the strength I need to keep limping along. The more I concentrate on the anger, the easier it is to draw on, as if it’s eager to be released. The feeling is so uncommon to me, unusual in its velocity, but I don’t dare question it as I’m certain the adrenaline is fuelling me on and right now I need all the help I can get.
The rain continues to pelt down on me but now it no longer numbs my body to the core, instead I am taken aback to see a shimmering steam emit from my skin, rising up from my body like the cold rain bouncing off of the pavement on a warm day.
Lifting my hand I turn it around in front of my face, amazed and equally terrified at what I’m seeing. Can this really be happening or am a experiencing a delusion from my head injury? No matter how long I stand there doubting myself, I can’t deny what is clearly happening.
My entire body is drying at such a rapid rate that the rain no longer wets me and within moments my flesh has regained its healthy pink glow, no longer sporting the blue-purple tinge of near death.
An overpowering scent of sulphur fills my nostrils, the smell conjuring images of Zantron with its hideously suffocating heat and the very creatures which haunt me and I’m scared to admit that the scent is coming from me.
Twisting my arm so I can clearly see the bracelet, I don’t feel the surprise I should when I see the ruby glowing intensely. I already know that the heat resonating around my body is due to the bracelet activating a transformation within me, I could sense it the moment I let myself fill with hate.
I don’t dwell on what’s happening to me, for the moment I’m too grateful for the very thing that’s also the reason why I’m running away.
With the heat I’m producing also comes the added bonus of my bloody wounds drying up. Each step is still beyond painful and my head feels like there is a heavy metal band playing inside it, but I’m no longer losing blood, which in itself is a blessing.
The sudden onslaught from the sky lessens to become a slow annoying drizzle, the ground is sopping wet, making the thick covering of fallen pinkish leaves a dangerous hazard I don’t want to underestimate, no matter how pretty they look.
The bridge I had seen from above is in worse condition than I had first realised, I’m almost too scared to cross it, but I have come this far now, there’s no turning back and anyway it would be impossible to climb back up that bank, a feat I’m unwilling to even attempt.
Hesitantly I step onto the worn bridge, giving a little bounce on the decrepit stone, feeling it move under my small weight yet still holding strong enough for it not to disintegrate away completely.
Sighing, I glance around hoping to see any other way to cross over the deep crevice which shows no hints of what lays below, but in the dark I can find no alternatives nor can I see far enough down to even know what it is I’m crossing over.
With the increasing uncertainties taking up space in my brain and effectively draining away the anger inside me, I can feel the bracelet growing dormant once again and unfortunately taking its warmth with it.
Out of other options, I make my way across the bridge, staying close to the centre, not trusting the unstable looking edges. Once my feet touch solid ground on the other side I let out a sigh of relief, so far so good. Now what?
; I had hoped there would be a path to follow, some sign of which way I should go, instead there is nothing but trees and thick undergrowth providing very little encouragement.
I stand there breathing in the damp air, my eyes closing as I feel my mind hardening, trying to push myself forward against all odds of finding what it is I’m looking for, especially since I have no clue of what that is.
It is simpler when I close my mind off to my emotions. Everything becomes tactical, all about the here and now, the necessity of life. Nothing else matters except for surviving and that is what I have to do, against all odds.
It doesn’t take long after I shut myself down for an overpowering sensation to wrap around my gut, pulling me forward, a yearning which needs to be fulfilled and won’t be quashed until then. I can’t ignore it, wouldn’t even try, my intuition has gotten me this far, so why bother denying it now.
Instead I put one foot in front of the other, limping along and using the pain to push myself to take another step and trusting myself to get me where I need to go.
With only a few twinkling stars left in the night’s sky to illuminate my way, I don’t see the low stone guard until my shin hits it, reopening the already damaged skin and a number of colourful curse words spill from my trembling lips.
Straining to see, I can barely make out a crumbling stone curved wall reaching to my knees and stretching out into distance. Edging around the side I follow it, the trees beginning to thin to reveal a long rectangle structure stretching along a pathway which merges with matching stairs on either side and leads up into the darkness.
However overgrown by vines and saplings the stairs are they still seem to be in solid enough condition, so I start to climb, following the ever present pull I’m trusting so completely, looking down over the railing to see murky, stagnant water below in the stone encasing which I assume is some kind of pond. I’m so glad the guard stopped me from falling into it, no matter how much it hurt.
The stairs continue to lead up, twisting to join together, making one large staircase through the trees until they become less of a separate staircase and more steps crafted into the side of a rocky bank. I don’t dare look over the edge, it wouldn’t do any good anyway, with how dark it has become I wouldn’t see anything beyond my own feet.
My chest is heaving and I have to press my fist into my stomach to ease the stitch which is tormenting me. Just when I’m contemplating giving up, sitting down and letting hypothermia take over my body, hoping that it will be less painful than this, I see a spark of hope.
Through the thinning treetops, at the end of the staircase, sits the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Built right into the rocky bank is a house, it’s old and neglected, the windows mostly smashed from years of being abandoned to nature, but nonetheless, it’s still shelter and it gives me the burst of energy I need to make it up the remaining steps and to the wooden door.
Silently praying it won’t be locked, I nearly cry out with joy when the handle turns and the door swings open effortlessly.
Years of accumulated dust wafts up into the stale air from my disturbance but I don’t care, the place doesn’t smell mouldy or damp which means I might have just found myself a dry place to rest for the night.
Using my hands to feel my way around in the darkness, I come to a table, the top littered with all kinds of different items I can’t distinguish until my hand curls around a familiar coveted item.
Opening the tiny box, my numb fingers struggle to pull out a match and flick it across the side. It takes several attempts before it sparks to life and sends out enough light to give me a grainy glimpse of my surroundings.
Quickly glancing around I see a lantern and an open fireplace before the match burns down to singe my fingertips. With another flick of a match I manage to light the lantern, the soft orange flame bouncing to life, creating shadows which dance on the walls around me.
Moving to the fireplace, I grab a handful of twigs and hay dragged in by some unseen animal for its bedding, and using the dwindling matches I soon have the fire roaring.
I lean over the fire, rubbing my hands together trying to absorb as much heat as I can. With the bracelets strange reaction dissipated I am once again chilled, my clothes still slightly damp, so I strip off and hug them to my chest as I glance around properly for the first time since invading this house.
In the dim light, I can just make out the neglected tiny house that still holds a charm of homeliness. There is a small but cosy kitchen, stuffed full with jars containing what looks to be herbs and spices and a selection of powders, although once again these differ in colour to what I’m used to. Since I’m not willing to tempt my fate by eating powder that resembles coloured chalk and nothing else remotely edible is to be seen, I resign myself to the fact I won’t be quenching my hunger anytime soon.
The table I had already found is littered with books, cups, a small carved bowl and not much else. There are two rickety chairs, so I grab one, dragging it in front of the fire and hang my clothes over the back to dry.
Slowly the heat penetrates my body, my muscles tingling as they stutter back to life, unfreezing my mind along with the invading warmth. The severity of what I have done sinks in and I sink to the floor, wrapping my arms around shaking legs and rest my head upon my knees.
Fearing for my life once again, I acted without thinking things through properly. Maybe if I had stayed at the castle I could have found a way to get rid of the bracelet before anyone found out. At least then I wouldn’t be stuck, near naked in a broken down abandoned home, hurt, cold, starving and alone in the middle of nowhere.
With the gash on my head pulsating a stabbing pain throughout my skull, I let the overwhelming misery take over, dragging me down until all I want to do is give in.
The gentle heat from the fire wraps around my body, embracing me in its warmth and slowly, muscle by muscle, I relax, drifting off into my first dreamless sleep in weeks, ignoring the still present tug on my intuition, needing to rest more than anything else right now.
***
A shiver races down my spine, bringing forth a flourish of goose-bumps. I blink, creating snapshots of disorientating images before me, confusing me enough to drag me out of slumber and fully awake within seconds.
The fire has burnt down to embers, the cold seeping in and taking over the room once more. My muscles cry out in protest as I sit up and stretch my rigid body. Lying on the bare stone floor was obviously not the wisest choice.
I pull on the now dry clothes, reminded again how pleased I am for having Ellestra’s practical clothing; none of this would have been remotely possible in one of those stupid flamboyant dresses.
With the early morning sun comes enough light to see around the house clearly, showing things I had missed last night.
Photos of a happy couple line the walls, depicting their lives in a slideshow of personal moments, from their wedding day to their old age. The last merely shows the old woman, flowers dangling from her hand, the lost expression etched into her face clearly portraying her heartbreak.
I turn away. I might have broken into their house but I have no right to invade their privacy in such a rude manner.
Outside it is calm, the rain long gone and the gentle sun promising a pleasant day. From the broken window there is nothing to be seen except for multiple pink tinged trees, which soon bore me as I already know what they hide - a whole bunch of nothing.
Delving deeper into the house, the intuitive spark flares to life in my gut, only to be crushed a moment later when I realise that there is not much else to find. A small bathroom sits behind a door at the far end which is too unappealing to use. The only other door reveals a bedroom large enough for a double sized bed and a set of draws.
However old and dusty it is, I wish I had found the bed last night; if I had of then I might not be so sore and stiff this morning.
Rummaging through the draws I find nothing of significance except for moth-eaten clothes and they certainly won’t
help me now.
Sighing, I flop down on the bed defeated. I don’t know what I was hoping to find, but finding nothing wasn’t it. Lying there staring up at the cracked ceiling, I go through my limited options.
I can return to the castle, feign ignorance to why I ran away and somehow find a way to remove the bracelet without being caught, or I can keep running.
My leg is hurt, the bruising coming out to display a colourful array of blues and purples and my head still stings with the promise of needing stitches. Everything I have been through since leaving the castle shows I can’t make it on my own on a planet so foreign to me. But I can’t go back. I won’t.
Deep down I know they will find out about my deception and they will kill me for it. Better one human girl dead than a bunch of Prytorians. I haven’t stayed alive this long by asking for help. I will figure something out, I have to.
When I go to roll off of the bed, my shoulder hits something buried beneath the frayed woollen blankets, the prickly intuition on full alert, urging me to peek at the unknown. Pulling the blankets back, I ready myself with the anticipation of finding the old lady’s bones – heck that would be my luck after all - lying on top of a dead woman – yet what I see instead leaves me stunned.
Lying side by side are two identical swords, well I guess they are swords, although now that I look closer they seem rather short to be swords.
Reaching out as if drawn to the silvery blue metal, my hand wraps around the smooth leather bound hilt of one of the dangerous looking weapons. Lifting it up I’m amazed by how light it feels, while my palm encases the hilt perfectly like it was crafted just for me.
It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Too big to be a dagger and too small to be a sword, it’s in-between somehow and it’s beautiful.
Paladin Rising (The Paladin's Curse Book 1) Page 9
