Betrayal

The dim forest was quiet, except for the pounding of feet and racing hearts. Fallen leaves crunched beneath heavy footsteps.

A young girl sprinted for her life between the thick trunks of ancient trees. Her pitch black cloak trailed behind her, hood fallen on her back. She had a vibrant purple hair, nearly black. A small satchel bounced against her hip. With a heart beating like a hummingbird and lungs gasping for air, she pushed herself on.

Only a few feet away from the girl, a boy tore through brush. A cloak was tied around his neck, hood pulled over his face. His black eyes were wild and frantic.

Behind them, men raced after them, swords in hands. They shouted to each other in French.

The girl swerved in her path, seeing a cave off to her left. She pushed herself in the black and pulled the hood far over her face, hiding herself in the darkness.

“Trouvez-les!”

“Où sont-ils?”

Shouts echoed in the small cave. She cringed as she heard footfalls pass, and one stopped. She held her breath.

Someone bent down and she recognized the boy.

“Cage!” she hissed, lunging for the boy’s feet. He fell and she pulled him in.

He put a finger to his lip and pointed outside. He shifted next to her, pushing her into the smooth rock wall.

“Je les entends!” one of the men shouted, “Je les entends respirer!”

Cage cupped a hand over his mouth and stopped breathing.

“Jamais l'esprit, ruse du vent!”

Moments later, their footsteps disappeared.

The girl crawled to the front of the cave and peeked out. As far as she could see, no one was left in that part of the forest. She pushed herself out then spun around to give her hand. He grabbed her wrist and she yanked him out.

“Vervain,” he whispered, looking around, “what do we do?”

Vervain looked at him, her eyes searching his for an answer he may know. “We can look. I’m not sure where we are, but there might be something hidden about here…”

She, caught up in her written map of what area she had covered before, began walking farther into the forest, trotting after the French speaking men; Cage followed.

She carefully listened for the odd men as she walked farther. Vervain leapt up the little mountain on her left, deciding to look higher up. Stumbling, she crawled her way up.

“Cage?” she hissed behind her, “Are you following?”

“Yeah. Right behind you.” He called up from beneath her.

Something in his voice made her turn around on the hillside. She looked down at him, her eyebrows knitting together.

“Nous devrions la tête en arrière.”

Vervain glanced around nervously. She spun back around and clambered up higher; she sat beneath a tree, looking around for the men.

Cage jumped up and stood in front of her. “We must go. They have an easy chance to spot us if we are seated, wasting time.”

She stood, nodding, “Alright.”

She looked around for anywhere to start, and with her back turned, Cage pulled out his knife and shoved it into her back.

Gasping, she fell to the ground on her knees. A furious fire engulfed her back. She whimpered in pain, trying to look up at him as he walked around her.

“What…was that…for?” she gasped out, spitting out blood.

Cage pulled her satchel off her shoulder roughly, “You have what I’d like and there’d be no way of getting it from you while you are still breathing. So.”

Her piercing icy blue eyes clouded, pain smearing her pupils. As her eyelids fluttered to a close and Death stood beside her hand out, she heard Cage’s footsteps race off.