by Penelope Sky
We walked for a long time, but there wasn’t the same urgency anymore. Every time I looked behind me, there were no torches in my view. There were no more barks from the dogs hunting my scent. They must have reached the river and turned a different direction to continue their search.
That meant I got away.
I fucking did it.
I just had to get inside quickly.
I couldn’t feel my arms and legs, and I was shaking so violently that I could barely stay upright in the saddle.
And I was getting sleepy…so sleepy.
When fifteen minutes passed, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.
I could barely keep the lights on in my head. The flashlight drooped in my hand. My body started to slide.
Then she stopped.
It made my body jolt forward slightly, jerking me awake.
And there it was.
I lifted my flashlight and looked at the tall structure, the ancient architecture. “Oh my god…we fucking did it.” That rejuvenated me enough to guide the horse around the side, looking for the front door. Magnus had given me the keys, so I just had to find the way inside.
We moved to the front, and that was when I spotted the double doors of the entrance.
There were no lights on at all, not even landscape lights, so it was hidden in the darkness. “This is it…” I got off the horse, pulled out the keys, and then my hands shook as I inserted them into the lock. The flashlight stayed in my mouth so I could see what I was doing.
Then the lock came free.
I stilled for an instant, celebrating my victory while stunned by the accomplishment.
I opened the second door so the horse could come inside. “Come in…” I grabbed the reins and guided her into the chateau. It was freezing outside, and I didn’t want to leave her out there. If I tied her up, wolves would get her. And if I didn’t tie her up, she would get lost in the cold.
I immediately shed all my clothes because they were still soaking wet and cold, so they didn’t do anything for me anyway. My flashlight moved along the wall until I found the switch. I flipped it on, the foyer coming into sight.
It wasn’t what I expected.
It was made of stone, there were no pictures on the walls, no decorations. It felt abandoned.
I closed the doors behind us and locked them. Then I went into the kitchen and found a big pot on the stove. I filled it with water then carried it back to the horse. When I set it on the floor, she immediately started to drink like she was thirsty.
There was a large sitting area downstairs with old furniture, like something from the Victorian era. The window on the wall was colored stained glass, like something out of a church. A huge stone fireplace was below the windows, so I grabbed the matches from the saddle and lit the logs in it on fire.
The flames were low at first, but once all the wood caught on fire, it brought brilliance and warmth into the room. A large staircase led higher up, and there was more to the chateau to explore, but I didn’t want the lights on up above, just in case they’d crossed the river to search for me.
The horse gulped in the foyer, the sound echoing against the stone interior.
There was a blanket on the back of one of the couches, so I grabbed it and wrapped it around my body. A rug was on the floor in front of the fireplace, so I pulled the cushions from the couch and made myself a bed next to the fireplace. I was still shivering, my bones frozen, so I snuggled in by the fire, as close as I could get without burning myself, and I lay there…thawing.
The shivering lasted a long time…for hours.
But the heat moved back into my skin, my muscles, and then my bones. Blood started to circulate once more. My knees were pulled to my chest, my arms wrapped around my upper body, and I gripped myself tightly until the jerking stopped.
I did it… I made it.
Hooves echoed against the stone as the horse came into the sitting room. They became louder and louder, muffled once they hit the rug. A loud neigh sounded, like she came close to feel the fire. Then she bent her legs and lowered herself, taking up the spot behind me, just like a dog that came over to snuggle.
I smiled and reached for her mane behind me, feeling it along the back of her neck. “Thank you…”
When I opened my eyes the next morning, the fire was gone, the sunlight was coming through all the windows, and the horse was gone.
I stared at the ashes in the hearth, the previous night slowly coming back to me. It was hazy at first, but then flashes returned, riding the horse in the darkness, crossing that frozen river, the distant sound of a barking dog on the wind.
And then I realized…it was the first time in months I’d woken up as a free woman.
I quickly sat upright, the blanket falling off my naked body, the realization hitting me so hard that I sobbed. The grand sitting room echoed my tears back at me, amplifying them, giving me the most cathartic experience of my life.
I made it.
I didn’t wake up on that shitty mattress. I wasn’t marched to work in the cold. I didn’t sit there at the table and eat my lunch in silence, sneaking in conversations because I’d lost my right to even talk to someone.
It was over.
The horse neighed loudly.
That silenced my tears. I turned to look at her.
She stood nearby, her neighs echoing against the stone.
I wiped my tears away with the back of my arm. “You must be hungry, huh?”
She neighed as if she were answering me.
I got to my feet and tied the blanket around me like a toga. “I doubt there’s anything in the kitchen…” I walked inside and looked around, seeing the old-fashioned decor, the kitchen island made of solid wood, the small fridge like that looked as though it was installed sometime in the sixties. The kitchen wasn’t built for a fridge, so it stuck out like it didn’t belong.
She followed me to the door, shifting her neck but not stepping into the confined space.
“What do horses eat?” I moved to the pantry and started to open doors. It was mostly canned goods. “Hay? Oats?” I kept looking, finding old boxes of cereal, mostly expired products. Then I found a large container of plain oats. “Yes!” I held up the container to her. “Look what I found.”
She stared at me blankly, her eyes wiggling.
I found another large pot and emptied the entire container inside before I carried it back to her pot of water, which was empty. There were horse droppings around, along with puddles of urine. My living conditions had been terrible, so I didn’t blink an eye over it. “Here.”
She walked over, dropped her neck to smell it, and then started to munch.
“I’m glad you like it.” I rubbed her neck while she ate. “I need to give you a name. I’m sure you already have one, but they probably named you something stupid.” I searched for something pretty, because she was a beautiful brown horse with a light-colored mane. “How about Rose? That was my mother’s name.”
She continued to eat.
I patted her on the neck. “No objection? Rose, it is.”
19
Rose
I was too afraid to let Rose outside because the guards might still be looking for me, so I continued to give her water and scavenge for things to feed her. When the droppings and puddles became too much, I cleaned them up and threw them outside, but she always seemed to be making droppings, so I could never really stay on top of it.
I explored the rest of the chateau, which was two stories tall. It was like stepping into a history book, moving through narrow staircases, outdated bathrooms, the hard stone covered with rugs that seemed just as ancient as when the place was built. The bedrooms had four-poster beds with comforters with floral prints. When I ran my hand across them, dust covered my palm until it was black.
This place was extremely untouched.
There were old paintings on the walls, mainly of landscapes, or French aristocracy long before the new world had been fully explored. I searched through
the house and examined everything because I had nothing else to do.
Every time I went upstairs, Rose waited at the bottom and remained until I returned.
I hoped to find a laptop or cell phone. The only people I could call right now were the police, and I didn’t even know where I was to give them directions. Magnus said he would return me to Paris, so that seemed pointless. But I did have friends who were worried about me, so they’d like to know I was okay. But I didn’t have their numbers memorized, so that wouldn’t work either. Using the internet to send someone a message would be my best chance at contact.
But I didn’t find anything.
I discovered the room Magnus used because it was the only room in the house where the bed was unmade. It was a master suite with its own bathroom, and it had windows that overlooked the tree line. I pulled back the curtains to take a look from this elevation.
In the daylight, I could see the trees and the plains. I could even see the river. But everything beyond that was a blur. There were patches of snow everywhere because it was too cold to melt it all away, and a lot of the trees still had the white powder on their branches. I closed the curtain then explored the closet.
It was empty.
Then I started opening the drawers in the dressers.
There was some clothing, but not much.
There were a couple pairs of fresh boxers, so I pulled one on. I found black sweatpants, so I put a pair of those on too, along with a gray t-shirt. Everything draped down my body like a curtain, and the pants struggled to stay up, so I had to tie them as tight as possible and make a double knot to keep them in place.
He had toiletries in the bathroom, like a razor, shaving cream, shampoo and conditioner, a comb, and a hair dryer. The chateau had mirrors in every bathroom, so it was the first time I actually saw my own image.
I didn’t recognize myself.
The weight loss had changed the shape of my face. The fatigue caused slight bags under my eyes. The direct sunlight for hours at a time gave my skin a tan I didn’t normally have. When I lifted up my shirt to see my stomach, I saw the outline of a six-pack, a curvature of my body that made me look ready for the beach. I’d never been in shape in my entire life, so it was a different look for me. When I turned around to look at my back, I stilled at all the scars from where I’d healed. I was covered in bumps and streaks from the way the loose skin healed together.
It was ugly.
I didn’t look again.
I should be thankful I was alive. I should be thankful I escaped.
My appearance was insignificant.
I took advantage of the toiletries to really wash my hair, comb it, and dry it.
My hair felt so much lighter. It framed my face differently and improved my looks too.
It made me feel like me again…a bit.
I looked through the kitchen and made whatever I could find. The food wasn’t as good as it was at the camp, but I’d gladly eat expired soup as a free woman than a gourmet meal made by my captors.
I came across a bag of carrots. There was no expiration date, but they weren’t covered in mold, so they seemed good enough to me. “What do you think?” I pulled out a carrot to show it to Rose.
She neighed.
“Let me wash them first.” I stood at the kitchen counter and scrubbed each one to make sure it was clean before I patted them dry and fed them to her.
She ate quickly and went through the whole bag in a couple minutes.
“Good?”
Her nostrils released a loud sigh.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
I spent my evenings downstairs in front of the fire. I’d found other hearths in the house with dried wood sitting inside, so I confiscated those to use for myself. It was so cold and wet outside that I doubted I would find any dry wood that would burn and not create a ton of dark smoke, so I didn’t bother with that.
The days trickled by, and I waited.
The high I felt from escaping faded away quickly, because now I was worried about Magnus.
What if he never came?
What if he’d died? Or what if they’d killed him?
Rose and I could make it the rest of the way on our own, especially with no one chasing us, but I worried about him…my friend.
On the fifth day, there was a loud pounding on the door.
I was on the floor in the sitting room, reading the book that survived the journey in the saddlebags. It managed not to get wet, so it was still intact. I turned at the sound, my blood spiking with both excitement and adrenaline.
Rose turned too.
I got off the floor and came to her side. “It’s probably him, right?” What if the guards were outside? What if they’d figured it out?
I moved to the door and realized there wasn’t a peephole.
The knock sounded again. “Raven?” It was his voice—I’d recognize it anywhere.
He must have given me his only set of keys. “I’m here!” I turned the lock and yanked the door open.
He stood in his uniform, his hood down so the daylight could highlight his features. His eyes shifted back and forth as he looked at me, like he immediately noticed the difference in my hair.
I lunged into him and wrapped my arms around him, squeezing him hard in an embrace that made me so warm I forgot what it was like to ever feel cold. I felt his muscled frame under my grip through the clothing, my touch immediately familiar because I’d held him before. My face moved into his chest, and I closed my eyes.
He didn’t hug me back—like he had no idea what was happening.
I pulled away and looked at him again. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” I examined his head where I’d hit him, seeing a scar that he would carry for the rest of his life. “I was worried about you the entire time.”
His eyes continued to take me in. “I told you I would be fine.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’m so sorry that I did that to you.”
After holding my gaze for a few seconds, he moved past me and entered the house. “I’m surprised you’re still here.”
“What do you mean?” I shut the door behind him.
“I thought you would take off. You’re free now.”
The thought never crossed my mind. “I had to wait for you, to make sure you were alright.” He told me he would be there in a few days, but I probably would have waited weeks before I accepted the horrible truth—that he didn’t make it.
He stared at me again, his guarded eyes slightly dropping in hostility. When I hadn’t answered the door right away, he must have assumed that I didn’t bother to wait for him, that I got what I wanted, so he was insignificant. When he realized that wasn’t the case, his frozen eyes started to thaw. When he turned to step farther into the chateau, he halted when he saw Rose standing there, staring straight at him.
Rose neighed as she looked at him.
“Why the fuck is there a horse in here?” He turned to me, accusation in his eyes.
“It’s too cold outside.”
He looked around the room, noticing the droppings.
“I’ve been cleaning it, but Rose goes a lot.”
“Rose?”
“Yeah, I named her.”
“Why didn’t you put her in the stables?”
“There’s a stable?”
He sighed loudly then walked to the stairs. “Take her down there and clean this place up.”
“Where are you going?”
“Shower.” He moved the rest of the way until he disappeared.
I turned back to Rose. “Sorry, it’s not you. He’s just…kinda grouchy.”
She stared at me, warm breath coming from her nostrils.
“Let’s go.” I took her by the reins and guided her outside. It was a sunny day and there was less snow, so I spotted the stables farther down the hill. It was the first time I’d been outside, since I arrived, so I took a look around. There were gardens on the property, but now they were wild because no one had taken care of them in de
cades. The bushes were overgrown, flowers mixed with weeds, and the patio furniture made of iron had rusted to a blood-orange color.
I walked her to the stables and found another horse there. “At least you’ll have someone for company.” I walked her inside then found the bucket of hay. I poured it into her trough so she could eat. I shut the door then turned to the other horse. He was solid black, so his eyes disappeared into his coat. He stared at me in stillness—just like his rider. I could tell he wasn’t friendly like Rose, so I didn’t bother trying to pet him. I made sure he had food and water before I returned to the chateau.
When Magnus came back downstairs, it was evening.
The light had faded from the windows, so the lamps were the only illumination in the area. I sat on the cushions on the floor and ate my bowl of old soup. I looked up to stare at him.
His jaw was clean because he’d shaved, his hair was neat, and he was in sweatpants and a t-shirt…the first time he’d ever worn in regular clothes around me. He was dressed entirely in black, barefoot. He stared at me for a few seconds before he turned around and walked off again.
I went back to my soup.
He reappeared minutes later with firewood he’d retrieved from somewhere and carried it to the hearth. He set each log in place before he lit the fire with a bunched-up piece of paper. The flames were big instantly, bringing light and heat to the sitting room.
Then he went into the kitchen.
Now that we were outside the camp and he was in different clothes, I almost expected him to have a different personality, but he was the same brooding man who seemed perpetually unhappy.
He came back a moment later, a bowl of soup in his hand. To my surprise, he took a seat beside me on the floor, pushing away the cushions. His spoon moved through the bowl, and he served his mouth the warm liquid, getting chunks of potatoes and noodles.
It was quiet, our utensils tapping against the bowls.