It felt like it had taken hours to reach the end of the tunnel, but it was most-likely only half of one. Still, a huge sense of relief came over me when I saw the metal bars above me, basking my face in sunlight. My shoulders deflated as a sigh escaped my lips, like the feeling you get when you sit down after hours of walking. I knew that this was the truly hard part, though. There was a good twenty feet between where I would surface and the forest’s edge, which Mara had said was where the barrier ended. It was forbidden for us to go into the forest for as long as I could remember; now I knew why.
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted my backpack on my shoulders and tiptoed up so I could lift the bars. They hovered about an inch or so off the ground before I slid them to the side, my thin arms shaking. Maybe I was tiny, actually; I was definitely too small to get out of this tunnel easily. Mara could have just jumped up, her arms on the ground, and heaved herself up with ease. I, however... well, this was gonna’ be a lot harder than I thought.
First, I tried climbing. I put my back against one side while my feet were propped against the other, pushing myself up gradually, only after a mere few seconds I just landed right on my backside. This continued again and again, until I realised that my legs weren’t long enough nor were they ever gonna’ be: I was seventeen and five foot two. That wasn’t changing anytime soon.
Secondly, I tried jumping, though it wasn’t all too surprising when I barely neared the hole that would allow my escape. Time was wasting away now and all too soon somebody would discover my absence, which would not be taken lightly. The Witches were as controlling as you’d think, making regular checks on our rooms and insisting we eat attend all meals in the dining room. If I wanted to have any chance of leaving this place, I would have to do it quickly.
Realising this, I looked sorrowfully down at my backpack. After dropping it onto the floor, I shed myself of my boots, laying those on top of one another on the bag. It provided enough height that I was able to lay my arms on the ground above me, and hoist my body up before collapsing onto the ground. I fought the urge to look down at my backpack, instead carefully standing up to face the castle. There was no movement, at first, until I realised that a few matrons were sitting on the balcony. They saw me, of course, and stood up.
“Shit,” I breathed as they lifted their wands. I quickly spun around to sprint towards the forest and, somehow, I managed to get inside without one of their hexes or curses hitting me. Still, they had to be chasing after me, and so I made sure my bare feet hit the forest floor as fast and hard as I could.
Keeping going. You’re doing great, baby.
I barely managed to keep a sob of fear within my throat, but there was no surprise or blanch of shock at hearing his voice. I had been expecting it, anticipating it, and the smooth, deep sound of him was so, so comforting. It only made me run faster, my arms and legs burning as I made them cut like blades through the forest, away from the Witches who I knew were only feet away now.
A spell hit a tree just inches away from me, and my heart beat doubly as I saw a hole singed right through the bark. They kept coming plentifully, curse after curse after curse, but still I ran. I ran until through the burn in my throat. I ran through the cuts on my feet. I ran through the nearly-unbearable fear inside of me that wondered if I’d make it through this alive; or worse, without going to the reformation centre.
Keep going north, honey. I’m outside a church.
Witches weren’t allowed inside holy ground, something I should have taken more notice of as it could’ve led to believe they weren’t really all that saint-like, and right now that was going to come in handy. I just had to keep running and, soon, I would be with him.
How far? I managed to rasp through my mind, as my throat got even hotter and the urge to just faint seemed very tempting. Curses and hexes still flew, narrowly missing me each time.
Not even a mile.
Relief flooded through my hazy mind, and somehow this made me push my limbs faster. The air whipped my long, dark hair back and it felt like it was biting my skin, but I didn’t care. I just kept running, running, running, and pretty soon I saw a break in the trees that revealed a church. A tall, dark figure stood outside, and if I could have I would have smiled, but right then I was just concentrating on getting to him alive.
I was but a few feet away when it caught me. There was the tiniest of spaces between our stretched arms, but it wasn’t enough to stop the curse from catching me on the shoulder. Immediately, an intense, searing pain spread through my skin; it felt like acid. I stumbled forwards, falling to the ground, and just barely managed to see a pair of feet walk past me. My eyes fluttered closed while I listened to scuffling, swearing and, finally, a heavy sigh of triumph. Just moments later I was lifted into the air by a pair of thick, strong arms, and I couldn’t resist letting my head fall into the crook of the man’s neck.
“My shoulder,” I whispered, voice filled with pain. Traitorous tears stained my cheeks, falling from vivid green eyes to drip onto my chest; my skin felt like it was on fire.
“I know, but it’s all gonna’ be fine,” his said soothingly, making me want to cry harder at the fact that I couldn’t see his face. He had to be so handsome. “I’ll take care of your shoulder. You did great, honey.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly, not trusting myself to speak louder in case I hiccupped. “And thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome,” he said softly, just as we entered the church. I knew he must’ve knocked out those Witches outside, but it didn’t matter as they couldn’t get to us now, anyway. He sat me down by the steps at the head of the room before reaching around me, rummaging around and then producing a first aid kit. I still hadn’t seen his face and when I did the pain in my shoulder seemed to dissolve.
He was even more beautiful than I had imagined. His lips were full and his eyes were so much lighter than his brown, cropped hair; so light they were mesmerising. I barely tore my eyes away to drag over the tanned, angular plains of his face, seeing the strength of his jaw and the light stubble that covered it. He was... gorgeous. Beautiful. Godlike.
I went to reach up, maybe to cup his cheek or stroke his hair, only the movement made me wince in pain.
He held my cheek for a moment. “Don’t worry, it’ll be gone in a minute.” He started to rummage around in the first aid kit and, whilst he put in the antiseptic onto some gauze, carried on speaking. I didn’t think I ever wanted him to stop. “The antiseptic will numb it, and in a few hours it will have faded completely. I’m pretty sure it’s just a stinging hex.”
“Just?” I grumbled under my breath, making him laugh, and I couldn’t help but look up at him with a grin. When he laughed, he looked impossibly handsome. He had one of those contagious laughs that made him look so pure and young and good.
“I’m sorry, I’ve never had felt one, but I hear they’re painful,” he altered.
“Better,” I said and he laughed again.
Once he’d firmly wrapped the gauze on my shoulder, he sat down next to me on the steps, my hand already in his as he tugged me closer. I couldn’t help but take the opportunity to sling my much smaller, slimmer leg over one of his muscled ones, our hands so tight together. I loved the feel of his skin against my own, and after so long I finally felt safe. I felt content.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked me softly, using his free hand to tilt my chin up. Once our gazes had connected, he moved it to start rubbing my back. Up and down, up and down... I shivered.
“Talia,” I said as I noticed that all feeling had left my shoulder, just like he said. “And yours?”
He smiled at me, and I offered one back, though much more bashfully, I’m sure. “Joseph, though your name is much more beautiful, Talia.”
I kept my eyes on our hands, where I played with his fingers idly. My voice was small as I asked, “May I call you Joey?”
He leaned down so that our faces were only a breath away, our lips just brushing, and said, “You can call me anything you want, baby.”
And then he kissed me.
11. The Great Escape
Start from the beginning
