I inhaled slowly, praying neither of my assailants would notice.
Decaying leaves and dirt, the perfume of fall. And something else. Something familiar.
I inhaled again.
Whatwasthat?
“Almost there,” the woman said in her strange voice. It wasn’t a voice I’d heard around the castle. At least, I didn’t think so.
The man grumbled. “I hate this feckin’ place.”
His voice though. There was definitely something I recognized about it.
The air grew heavy like a cold, dense fog had descended, spreading through my lungs with each unsteady inhale and leaving a hollow ache in my chest. Carrion and death replaced the scents of fall.
The rushing sound of water drew ever closer. Too strong to be a stream. Too steady to be the sea.
A river.
The river separating a forest fromTheForest.
The man adjusted his grip, sliding his hands to the backs of my thighs. My stomach lurched. He shifted, rolling me from his shoulder onto the unforgiving ground. I bit my lip to keep from grunting when my back collided with what felt like a sharp stone.
“Not there, you fool. Across the river.”
“I’m not settin’ foot in that feckin’ place. Ye can bring her across.”
The woman cursed. Long, spindly fingers wrapped around my forearm, dragging me closer and closer to the river.
My hands may have been bound, but my feet were still free. I dug in my heels, slowing her a fraction. Was the man still here, or had he gone? It didn’t matter. I had to try something.
Think, Aveen.
Think.
If I had any hope of escape, it was in the element of surprise. As far as she knew, I was still unconscious.
The water grew louder, but so did the woman’s wheezing. She stopped for a moment, letting me go.
My fingers met silty sand. I scraped as much as I could into my hands. The woman’s jagged breaths came and went to my right. I sent up a quick prayer to whatever deity would listen.
I rolled left.
Stumbled to my feet.
Ran as fast I could.
Away from the river. Away from the woman’s vicious cursing.
Quick footsteps gave chase. The sand beneath my boots became hard ground, littered with rocks, turning my ankles. It was only a matter of time before I ran into something.
I slowed, but only a fraction, lifting my bound hands in front of me to soften the blow.
Something caught my hair. I whirled, throwing the sand in what I hoped was the right direction and lunging. My nails scraped cold, clammy skin.
The woman shrieked. I tore free.
“Help!” I screamed.