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Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy)

Page 21

by Aoife Marie Sheridan


  and then move towards it slowly. I can see a wooden shutter

  open at the side of the building to let in air. I move around the

  building slowly until we are out of sight and then turn to Alana.

  “Stay low.” I crawl along the ground until I’m directly under

  the window.

  “Who else is involved?” That was Morrick’s voice

  “Bellona?” Musa asks.

  “No, she won’t. She hates her father.” Morrick seems

  adamant on this point.

  But Mirium seems to disagree. “Morrick, she is allied with

  Lucian, and King Paulus could be also. We have to look at every

  possibility.”

  “What about Carew, then, since we have to look at every

  possibility?” Morrick says smartly

  “He has never been seen since.” Sadness fills Musa’s voice,

  but it doesn’t sound genuine; it sounds forced.

  Alana tugs on my arm and gestures back towards the huts,

  but I shake my head and continue to listen.

  “But he will be. I just cannot say if it is for good or bad.”

  Mirium’s words are gentle. This must have been someone Musa

  cared about or pretended to. “Lucian wants Sarajane alive so

  King Paulus must not be with him, since he wants her dead,

  but the images are foggy and unclear.” I freeze at Mirium

  mentioning my name.

  “Have you heard any more on the girl?” Morrick asks, but he

  sounds like he couldn’t care less.

  “Yes, Bellona has her, but she is alive.” Mirium pauses. “You

  need to tell Marta, Morrick. It is her daughter.”

  My heart stops beating and my body becomes rigid. They

  can’t be talking about Jessica. That isn’t possible. I calm myself

  and listen. Alana grabs my wrist, her eyes pleading with me to

  leave.

  “She is not my daughter. She is from a mortal man and none

  of my concern.” Morrick’s voice is cold and hard. He’s talking

  about my sister. Oh God, this isn’t happening.

  Alana pulls on my arm again and I crawl numbly behind

  her. Their voices start to fade. When we stand, I can’t even

  speak, and Alana veers me off towards the sea. The wind is a

  lot stronger the closer we get.

  “Oh God, Alana, they’re talking about my sister.”

  Alana grabs both my shoulders. “Calm down. We will think

  of something.”

  I look at her, shocked. “Are you going to help me?”

  “I can’t come with you, but I can find out where she is.”

  I nod my head several times. “Oh God, I can’t believe they’re

  going to let her die.” I can feel the rage towards Morrick rising

  in me. How could he? But I need to stay calm. If they won’t help

  save her, I’ll have to do this myself.

  “They said Bellona has her, so she would be in Saskia.”

  I look at Alana, bewildered, and then I start to feel hysterical.

  “I don’t even know where that is, Alana.”

  “I will draw you a map.”

  “This is not happening.” I grab Alana’s shoulder and shake

  her. “Tell me this is not real,” I scream.

  Alana’s face becomes stern and a look of determination

  crosses it. Her words make their way through my fear. “Calm

  down and think of your sister.” She’s right; this isn’t helping.

  “Tell me what I need to do”

  “Okay. Go back to your hut and act normal. Change into

  you’re travelling clothes and arm yourself. When the settlement

  becomes quiet, sneak out to the back of your hut. I will meet

  you there.”

  “And then what?” I ask, seeing too many holes in this plan.

  “Just trust me, Sarajane.”

  I follow her about four feet under the water. A large section

  of the fence is cut out enough to let a person fit through. We

  swim through it and come out the other side, but it makes me

  wary of Alana. Is she the traitor? Did she cut this out so she

  could move freely from Aquaterra? It doesn’t matter. I just need

  to get to Jessica so I have no choice but to trust her. She runs out

  into the desert away from the fence and keeps moving at a fast

  pace, but her footsteps make no noise. When we’re out of sight,

  she stops and I try to catch my breath.

  “I can’t stay much longer, but in the next five minutes you

  will come to an old building that looks like it is not used. Inside

  is a horse, saddled and carrying water and food.”

  “How do you know all this, Alana?” I ask, praying she isn’t

  the traitor. I really like her.

  “I just do.” She hugs me. “I can’t keep them off long. They

  will question me the minute they realise you are missing. So at

  best, you have until morning.”

  “Okay, thank you.” I give her one more quick hug and follow

  her directions to the old building. Inside, I find a horse saddled

  and equipped.

  We leave the beach and go our separate ways. I meet no one

  and make it to my hut. Once I’m changed and armed with my

  own dagger and Tristan’s, I just sit in the main room, waiting

  for the settlement to go quiet. It feels like days. I sneak out as

  Alana said and stand behind my hut. Alana is there. I hug her.

  I know she’s breaking a lot of rules and taking risks. But she’s

  all business.

  “Here is the map. It is easy to follow. I will get you out of

  Aquaterra, but you have to do exactly as I tell you.”

  I don’t get to answer. We move from hut to hut, using them

  as cover until we’re back at the sea. The fence that surrounds

  Aquaterra runs a good mile out to sea, but Alana keeps making

  her way into the water.

  “We can’t swim that far,” I call to her.

  “We are not swimming; we are diving.” She disappears under

  the water.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Saskia

  (Sarajane)

  Once I’m on the horse I make my way towards the

  mountains. Alana’s map is easy to follow. When I hit

  the mountain, there’s a pass about three miles in that

  will take me straight to Saskia. I kick the horse, pushing its

  body faster and harder.

  After a few hours of intense riding, the sun is starting to rise.

  I know I don’t have much longer before they notice I’m gone.

  I kick the horse again, willing it to reach the mountains in the

  distance. The temperature drops the closer we get to them. I

  can’t think about what I’m doing; it just terrifies me too much.

  So I focus on Josh’s face. I think of his smile and kind words. A

  sense of safety and peace washes through me.

  “I miss you.” Thinking of him pushes me on and I finally

  reach the mountains. We slow down, our pace almost at a

  crawl, as the ground is uneven and rocky. Goose bumps pop up

  all over my arms. I wrap my cloak tighter around me to shield

  myself from the cold. The horse starts hesitating at every step

  we take. At this rate it will take forever to reach Saskia.

  I tug the reins. “Go faster.” He throws his head back and

  sighs; a cloud of cold air leaves his nostrils. I kick his side. “I

  said go.” He rears up, nearly throwing me off. I grip his neck to

>   keep myself on the saddle. My heart is pounding. Something is

  spooking him. I look around me, but it is still dark in between

  the mountain. The horse starts moving back slowly. I let him.

  I’m not risking being thrown off again. I keep looking around

  to see what is scaring him. Stones fall down the mountainside. I

  squeal. The horse panics, moving back too quickly.

  “Shhh, it’s okay.” I try to calm him, rubbing his neck, but he

  is freaking out. He moves quicker, fumbling over his own legs. I

  know he’s going to fall. I jump from his back at the last minute

  and land awkwardly on the ground. I roll out of the way just as

  the horse falls on his side. He would have crushed me if I hadn’t

  moved. He is still kicking his legs wildly, his head thrown back,

  showing eyes that are nearly all white, and as quick as he falls,

  he gets up on his knees and then stands. He is facing the way

  out and he races off.

  “Hey, come back!” I roar after him, but he’s racing like his

  life depends on it.

  I stand on shaky legs and brush gravel off my clothes.

  Looking around doesn’t help. I can’t see more than ten feet in

  front of me. It looks like the shadows are moving all around

  me. I move back slowly and hit the stone wall. How the hell do

  I get myself into such stupid situations? Here I am alone, in the

  dark, stranded.

  “Okay.” I let out a deep breath and wipe my hands on my

  trousers.

  I start walking. Light shines in different areas wherever

  the mountainside has collapsed, allowing sunlight to escape

  through. It is now morning. I try to walk in the light as much

  as possible. I know I’m being followed, but I can’t stop. I reach

  the next area of light and bend down, pretending to tie my lace.

  I slip the dagger out of my boot with shaky hands and hold it

  at my side. The movements are strong up ahead, but there is

  nothing I can do, only stay calm until I reach that area and

  then run. This is the best plan I can come up with. The distance

  starts closing in, and whatever is just a few feet away doesn’t

  move, but I can feel their hungry eyes watching me. Shivers run

  all over me; the hairs on my arm and neck sand up.

  They slither out of their hiding places and surround me.

  “Breathe,” I remind myself. Oh God, this was a bad idea. I grip

  the knife. If I can take out the two in front of me, I might have

  a chance at running. They circle and hiss around me. I turn in a

  full circle to watch them as best I can. Now is my chance. I run

  at the one that’s in front of me, sticking my dagger in its neck.

  The exile crumbles to the ground. The rest seem frozen and I

  run with everything I have. I can hear their howls behind me as

  they take chase.

  “Don’t look back,” I tell myself and then I look over my

  shoulder just as one of them leaps off the side of the mountain,

  taking me tumbling to the ground. I try to stab him, but he

  hits my knife away and it clatters to the ground. I crawl back

  and kick him in the face. He growls and reaches out with long

  talons, tearing my cloak, ripping some of it off. I crawl on my

  knees to get away. Then I’m pushed down, scraping my cheek

  as he leaps on my back and rolls me over. His breath smells like

  rotten meat.

  The other exiles were cheering, but now they’re all silent. A

  giant of a man is standing behind the exile. My eyes widen at

  the sheer size of him. He looks like a warrior from some jungle

  movie. He is definitely over seven foot tall with jet-black straight

  hair that hangs down his back. His chest is bare and I’ve never

  seen such black eyes. He places his hands on the exile’s head and

  twists, snapping his neck like a twig. He pulls the dead exile off

  me and throws him against the side of the mountain. I can hear

  his bones crunch as his lifeless body hits the wall. All the other

  exiles hunch farther down to the ground, looking afraid.

  The giant looks at me then and speaks. “My name is Carew

  Warrior.” I just nod, afraid if I speak I’ll say something wrong

  and end up like the exile. “No others will attack you. You have

  my word.” This guy could kill me in seconds

  “What about you? Do I have your word?” My voice shakes

  uncontrollably.

  He inclines his head. “Of course, princess.” He reaches out

  his hand and pulls me off the ground. He is handsome in a

  manly animal way. I look around at the exiles. They are still

  bowing low to the ground.

  “Why are they following me?” I ask.

  He turns, fixing the creatures with a fierce look. “You have

  encountered them before?” The creatures look afraid. Good.

  “Yes, one attacked me a few days ago.”

  He shakes his head. “Our king will be very unhappy to hear

  that. He will punish the one who attacked you, severely.” A grin

  spreads across his face, making me squirm.

  “It is dead.” The image of him throwing himself on Tristan’s

  sword springs to mind.

  Carew looks surprised. “You killed it yourself?”

  “No, my protector did.” That sounds impressive.

  He looks around, standing on alert. “And where is your

  protector? I did not smell him.”

  “Smell him?”

  He looks at me angrily. “I asked you a question, princess. I

  expect an answer.”

  “Sorry, I’m on my own.” My voice is stuttery. His name is

  niggling at me. I’ve heard it before. Then I remember Musa

  saying his name. But I don’t mention it. I look at the exiles and

  back at Carew. “Are you their master?” I ask. “Yes. Enough

  questions, princess. You may pass.”

  I gather my scattered cloak around me and walk past Carew,

  and the exiles part for me. I turn around. “Thank you.”

  His face falls a little as if no one has ever thanked him before.

  Then it fills with hate. “Go before I change my mind.”

  I run. I don’t stop until my lungs are burning, and then the

  settlement comes into view, with a large castle sitting right in

  the middle. That’s where my sister will be. I take off my tattered

  cloak and sit a rock on top of it. I will come back this way

  and can get it then. I forgot my dagger, but it doesn’t matter.

  Tristan’s dagger is in my other boot.

  Seeing Saskia from this point is amazing. The kingdom is

  huge, stretching for miles, but I don’t have time for sightseeing.

  I still have to get into the castle.

  I move down the hill towards the settlement. When I reach

  the village/city, everyone has taken to the cobbled streets,

  bartering with goods. It feels for the first time that I have been

  transported back in time. The smell of home baking tantalizes

  my senses, but there’s still an undercurrent of sewerage seeping

  through.

  I move through the village with my head down, but I can’t

  see the castle from ground level. I just know to keep moving

  straight. Once I find the main square, I find the castle. There

  are no walls surrounding it. It just stan
ds huge and daunting

  before me. There are a lot of people moving towards the castle

  so I join in with the crowd. As we get closer, I can see guards are

  scattered everywhere. Four of them block the main entrance.

  This could be a harder task than I first thought. The crowd

  makes its way to the left of the castle. I follow until a huge wall

  comes into view. Everyone seems to be moving that way. I break

  off and move down the wall that is facing the castle. A side door

  is slightly open. I can hear the hustle of a busy kitchen coming

  from behind the door. Steam pours out into the street. I keep

  my back to the wall, trying to slow down my racing heart. A

  stout man with a washcloth slung across his shoulder comes out

  the door with a large pot. He sloshes it down an open gully. No

  wonder the place smells of rotten food and sewerage.

  When he turns to go back in, he stops at the sight of me. “You

  new?” he grumbles. I nod my head. “Get to work, then. The

  pots won’t wash themselves.” He pushes me roughly through

  the door while mumbling about how useless his staff is. I move

  through the hectic kitchen, keeping my head down. I can see a

  door just up ahead.

  “You.” I stop as the man comes after me. “The pots are over

  there,” he says through gritted teeth while pointing. I go to walk

  away and he hits me with a wet cloth across the arm. It stings

  like hell. I want to grab the cloth and hit him back, but I have to

  act afraid, which isn’t too hard. “Don’t wear clothes like that in

  my kitchen ever again.”

  I nod. “Yes, sir.” I race to the pots and start scrubbing them.

  They are stacked in rows on top of each other, all caked in

  different foods. Hopefully he will leave or take a break soon;

  then I’ll have my chance to escape. I wash the pots while trying

  to keep an eye out. Steam rises from large pots on the stove and

  flames jump from pans; the heat is hard to tolerate. Then I see

  the man going out the door again with another pot. It’s now or

  never. I make a beeline for the door.

  Just before I reach it, a woman grabs my shoulder, spinning

  me around “Are you dumb? Boss said to wash the pots so wash

  them.” This woman is a bully. I can see she is enjoying this. She

  grabs my arm when I don’t move.

  “Don’t touch me.” She’s wasting my time. I push her away

 

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