A Savior's Worth (Book #3)

Chapter Sixteen

Eldon and Henry asked her not to worry unless they failed to return by sundown.

As Elouise rose from her seat on a log and peered up at the orange and pink sky, her worry sunk in.

"They should be fine," she reasoned, turning back to the horses. "Shouldn't they?" She approached Snow with caution, her pulse rapidly increasing. "You would know if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"

Snow bowed her head.

Elouise sighed and glanced back in the last direction she'd seen her friends. She'd heard a few horses earlier and thought little of that, figuring there were simply more travelers passing by. Now she wasn't so certain.

Her stomach quit growling, opting for twists and turns that made her ill. She couldn't wait around any longer.

Elouise gathered their belongings and carefully led the horses by their reins. If everything turned out fine, they could always find another campsite.

Snow and Angus followed closely behind, and Elouise released their reins. Her hands itched for a sword. Of course, she had her magic. And although she preferred not to depend on it, she truly had no other choice if anything went awry.

They eventually came across a carcass being picked at by a flock of crows. Elouise covered her mouth with the back of her left hand as she inspected the dead deer. She noticed its hind legs were tied with rope. It could've been any rope, yet she couldn't help but stare intently at the shade of it. She knew it was the same one Eldon had taken. As if also sensing this, Snow neighed and shook her head.

Elouise then spotted the arrow lodged into the side of the buck's head. The feathers at the end—orange and black striped—were the same on Henry's arrows. Another was on the ground nearby, perfectly intact like it'd been unused. She noted the hoof prints on the damp dirt and followed them for a bit before they seemingly disappeared altogether.

"Which way could they have gone," she wondered aloud, keeping her voice low.

Leaves crunched nearby, and she flinched. She whirled around in the sound's direction and immediately caught sight of the tiny figure—a child, she quickly concluded—dashing away. She gasped. What was a child doing out here on their own?

With the horses still following, Elouise picked up her skirts and rushed after the stranger. She kept seeing glimpses of light brown locks before the child would duck behind another tree. Elouise was determined, though, and she picked up her speed until she came to an opening that led down a steep hill.

At the bottom, she found the child standing and staring up at her. She was a little girl dressed in a raggedy brown dress, muddied white apron, and worn-out boots. Most of her hair was tied back in a low ponytail while some strands were left loose and curled around her face—frizzy and tangled with leaves.

Elouise told the horses to wait there. Then she carefully headed down. The girl took a step back, so Elouise paused and said, "Please do not be afraid."

The girl widened her eyes and peered somewhere to her right. Elouise looked as well, but she didn't see anything or anyone.

"I am sorry," Elouise continued. "I was merely searching for my friends. You did not happen to see them, did you?"

The girl looked down at her small dirty hands. "I dunno," she whispered, a slight tremble in her words.

"Their names are Henry and Eldon. Henry has brown hair like yours and very lovely blue eyes. Eldon's hair is much lighter, and his eyes are like mine." She started to move toward the girl again—slowly and steadily, as if she were attempting to approach another rabbit.

"I've been waiting for them for hours," she further explained. "And I am quite worried about them now."

"I didn't see 'em," the girl meekly responded. 

Elouise frowned, halting in her spot once more. "I understand. Thank you, anyway. May I ask why you are out here?" She gestured to their surroundings. "Are you alone? What is your name?"

The girl turned away. Elouise held out her hand toward her.

"I can walk you back to wherever your family or friends are. You need not be afraid. I'm..." Elouise's cheeks burned. She doubted her identity would ease the girl's worries. 

Snow and Angus furiously neighed behind Elouise, and she glanced over her shoulder. Snow kicked up her front legs.

"Snow?" she knitted her eyebrows. "What has gotten into you?"

"You asked me if I'm alone," the little girl spoke, regaining Elouise's attention. "I'm not."

Elouise stiffened, uneasiness creeping up on her. "What, what do you mean?" She glanced to the girl's right again. Still, there was nothing there. "Where, where are they?"

"Right here, doll," a raspy deep voice replied from behind. Before Elouise could react or even see who they were, a piece of fabric was wrapped around her neck, yanking her back. She choked out a gasp as she stumbled then fell to the ground. There she got a clear view of her assaulter.

There were two of them—a man and a woman, both much older than her. Half of their faces were covered with purple rags. Elouise screamed, causing the horses to frighteningly neigh in return. Her first instinct was to teleport back to the camp, but she couldn't properly form the image of the area in her mind. She brought up her right hand, readying to bring her light magic forward, and the woman quickly snatched her wrists, clasping her hands together while the man tied them in place.

And after he was finished, Elouise frantically glanced around. They were surrounded by grass, so she narrowed her eyes, focusing on a small spot behind the woman. A small fire flickered to life and was immediately stomped out by the man, breaking her from her concentration. She gawked up at him. He grinned down at her.

"No, no, no you don't," he said tauntingly. "You ain't escaping us that easily, doll. You've got no idea what it means for us to have the savior in our grasp." He then reached into the pocket of his torn coat and pulled out his fist.

Opening it, he revealed a pile of black and purple dust. The woman lowered the purple rag for him, and he blew the dust into Elouise's face, turning her world to darkness.