by W.J. May
* * *
The ground thundered underneath pounding hooves, jolting Sarah out of her sleep. She shook Frank’s arm. “Why are we moving so fast?” She moved one of the haystacks over and peeked out. She saw no trees, just the rising light of morning spilling through the clouds. She realized she must have slept all night.
The horses neighed and came to a stop in a meadow at the border of a towering forest. “We have a big problem,” said Jules in a rushed tone.
Frank jumped off the wagon. “What’s up?”
The king’s voice rolled across Sarah’s mind. Please stop running. You’re going to get us both killed stepping into enemy territory. She reasoned that if he was so worried about getting killed, he shouldn’t have his men chasing her into dangerous zones. He would have been safe and sound if he’d just stayed in his fancy castle. A picture sharpened into focus, and Sarah felt like she was up in a helicopter looking down; there were swirls of dust, knights, swords, crossbows, spears, and war-adorned horses. Millions stretched out across the land, thundering toward them. An icy chill ran through her, and panic ensued. “The king’s men are close! He didn’t just send a platoon. He sent his entire freaking army!”
“For one person? How do you know?” Jules asked.
“I saw a vision.”
Frank shook his head. “Visions? How’s that humanly possible?”
“I’ve been trying to outrun a few soldiers for an hour now through shortcuts. I didn’t know he had his army after us.” Jules took a breath, his voice frantic. “Our only choice is to take another short cut, through Shadow Forest. If we take the long way around, we’ll be caught.”
“Cut through the forest then,” Sarah said. “They’re coming! Legions of them!”
Jules looked at her like she’d said the most taboo thing in the world. “It is forbidden. If we get caught, we’re dead. Then again, if the king’s men catch us, we’re dead anyway.” He glanced away. “Either way, we’re dead.”
“We can’t sit here and wait for the king’s men to kill us,” Frank said.
Sarah shot him a look. “Or steal this ring off my hand. We can’t wait here like sitting ducks. I say we take our chances in the forest.”
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” Jules said. “Even the king’s men won’t follow us in there.”
“Perfect,” Sarah said.
Jules stepped back. “I’m not taking one step into those woods. Nobody—and I mean nobody—ever comes out alive.”
“You said we’d be dead only if we get caught,” said Frank. “We won’t get caught if they won’t follow us in.”
“I’m not doing it.” Jules ran a hand through his blond hair. “You two are crazy!”
No, crazy is sitting here and handing ourselves over on a silver platter to a bunch of psychopathic swordsmen. “Please take the chance, Jules, or I swear I’m going to knock you out and carry you over my shoulder into that forest.”
“I won’t be the cause of your death,” Jules said. “The more I think about it, King Victor might kill Frank and me, but he won’t kill you, as long as you beg him for mercy.”
“Now’s not the time to play martyr,” Sarah hissed.
Jules threw his hands up. “You’ll fare better with your husband than this forest. I can assure you of that.”
“My fake husband. And remember, I deserted him on his wedding night,” Sarah said. “Nobody does that. He’ll make an example out of me.”
Frank grabbed Jules’s shoulder, shaking it furiously. “We don’t have time for your superstitious bull crap. Give us two horses or I’m taking them!”
Hooves echoed off in the distance, and Sarah swallowed. “They’re getting closer!”
“Take us in the woods, Jules,” Frank demanded. “You’re playing with our lives here, and this isn’t a freaking game!”
Jules pivoted back, fear etched in his features. “You’ll be slaughtered.”
“By what?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide. “Tell us what we’re up against.”
“Magical beings,” he answered. “They turn into different forms.”
“Frank shot him an amused look. “Shape-shifters? How do you know they even exist if no one has ever made it out of there alive to tell the tale?”
“They’re real!” said Jules.
“Nonsense!” Frank yelled. “Get these horses moving NOW!”
“He might have a point. Something in there is scaring these people.” Sarah looked off into the distance; she could make out men heading toward them on horseback.
“Have you seen these ‘shape shifters’ with your own eyes?” Frank asked.
“No,” Jules said. “Anyone who has ever lain eyes on them is dead.”
Frank pointed toward the forest. “I’ll take my chance with them.”
He started to frantically unloosen the reins when Sarah grabbed his arm. “I’m not leaving Jules here to die.”
“I’m not getting my head chopped off just because he’s afraid of some stupid myth. That king’s not laying one of his filthy fingers on you, Sarah!”
She glanced over her shoulder. Thousands of mounted soldiers thundered into the open field where they stood. A shiver slid up her spine, and she pointed toward the forest.
Arrows flew over their heads, and Sarah ducked behind the wagon.
“Forget the horses!” shouted Frank. “RUN!”