Fugitives: Chapter 12

I quickly hid their tracks, and stayed just inside the other path. I sat down at the roots of a tree, and slumped forward, and started to contemplate my choice. I was in the middle of some bushes, so I was well hid.

    About forty-five minutes later, there was a thundering of hooves, and I jerked my head up. Prince Esryn, dressed in a red tunic with his family's crest embroidered on it, was at the front. His brown hair was tied back, and the scar on his face stood out. His hard blue eyes glittered, and I could see the glint of them from where I crouched. He was not alone. With him were a ton of slavecatchers, all riding horses.

    They all reigned in their horses, stopping at the crossroad. “Which way?” one of the slavecatchers, a man with a deep voice, grunted.

    Prince Esryn dismounted, and knelt, studying the ground. I had deliberately left my footprints there. “She made these tracks not too long ago,” he said, his eyes narrowed. “She is still around.” His eyes swept the surrounding forest, and came to rest on my hiding spot. He stood up, and motioned for some of the men to investigate it.

    Panicked, I leaped up and raced through the trees, down the opposite road of where the fugitives were. There was the grunt of the slavecatchers as they pursued me through the woods, but all my anger, fear, and desperation was giving me strength to run, run harder, faster than I ever had in my life.

    One of the slavecatchers got close enough to try to grab my arm, and I struggled with him for a second before breaking free, and turning to run. As I turned, though, I ran into Prince Esryn, who grabbed my arms.

    The sight of him earlier had sent pulses of fear through me; now I felt cold all over, and I was terrified. His features broke out into a cruel smile. “Well, well, well. What have we here?” His eyes fell on my necklace, the one that Kielle gave me, and his jaw dropped. His face was a mask of surprise, and his grip on me slackened.

    I immediately broke free with all my might, and turned to run, but suddenly he had his sword across my throat. One of the slavecatchers grabbed me, and started to herd me back toward the others, when Esryn said, “Wait.”

    The slavecatcher turned me to face Esryn. I was trembling as he came closer. He still had his sword out.

    “Where did you get that necklace?” he asked quietly, his voice as cold and precise as ice.

    I didn't realize that wearing Kielle's necklace would give her away. I bit my lip and didn't answer.

    “Tell me, and I'll set you free,” Esryn ordered. He was lying. I could tell. I still didn't answer. His face contorted, and he suddenly had the sword at my throat, like he didn't move. It seems that the stories that Jacelyn told about Esryn's uncanny ability of fencing was true.

    A rock struck Esryn in the back of the head. He was just as surprised as I was. The next second, millions of tiny rocks bombarded us, and the slavecatcher holding me went down, and I was free. I rolled off to the side, but Esryn grabbed me and started to pull me into the woods, but suddenly there was someone in front of us.

    He was tall, with kind of longish brown hair and shrewd hazel eyes. He seemed to be somewhat older than me, maybe fifteen or sixteen. He was staring steadily at Esryn. “Drop her,” he hissed quietly in a commanding voice.

    Esryn pushed me behind him and held his sword aloft, but suddenly someone else grabbed me. This one was a girl, the same age as the boy, and she had wild red hair and cat-like green eyes. As Esryn whipped around, the first boy smashed his head with the hilt of his sword, and Esryn went down.

    There was a roar from the slavecatchers, and the girl again tugged me. “Quickly! He will not stay down for long!” she hissed, and I allowed her to haul me to the other side of the path. Then we were running, and I realized we were going full-tilt to a sudden dropoff. I was about to scream, but there was no time because we were jumping off the ledge to the bottom, one thousand feet below.

    The girl, with cat-like grace, twisted, and deftly caught hold of a large vine, and swung around to an entrance to a cave, and we were catapulted into it.

    I landed with a thunk!. Gasping, I sat up. We were in a cave, at the very front. The back was dark. The girl had landed on her feet, and smiled at me. “Don't be afraid. You're among friends. My name is Ember.”

    “Wha- what?” I gasped, breathing heavily.

    Ember cocked her head to the side. “Are you okay?”

    “Fine.” I massaged the place where I was hit by a rock. Already, a bruise had started up.

    Other people started appearing in the cave, swinging in by the vines. One of them, a boy around fifteen years old, glanced at me curiously. “Is this the girl we rescued?”

    “Yes,” Ember replied.

    “Is she alright?” an older girl with a sweet face and black hair asked.

    “Yes, Lark, she says she is fine,” Ember answered, looking very important.

    “What's 'er name?” a different boy asked, eyes wide. “She gotta have a name.”

    Ember glanced quickly at me. “What's your name?”

    “Er- Kya,” I answered.

    The first boy swept me a gallant bow. “Welcome, Erkya,” he said gaily. “I am Thicket.”

    My face flamed. “No, no, it's Kya.”

    Thicket blinked. “Oh.”

    Lark smiled. “Well, welcome, Kya.”

    I scrambled up. “Where am I?”

    “You're in the training camp of the Rebellion,” a different voice answered, quiet but full of authority. Everyone stepped back to allow the boy to come forward. He was the boy who had told Esryn to drop me.

    “I am Asher,” he continued. “I lead this training camp.”

    Hope swelled inside me. “Rebellion?” I asked in excitement. “Against the Royal House of Dermen?”

    Asher's eyes carefully measured my expression, my tone of voice, my eyes. “Yes.”

    I looked at everyone with new light. “I want to join,” I said in determination.

    Asher raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps you'd like to rest a bit before you make any hasty decisions,” he suggested lightly. “You look starved and weary. And we must learn your story. We saved you because you were obviously a runaway slave, and obviously not on their side, that much we know.”

    Before I could reply, he turned to Lark. “Lark, please show Kya where she can rest up. I'll be by later to talk to her.” He turned and walked to the back of the cave, and the darkness swallowed him.

    “This way,” Lark's soft voice said as everyone else melted into the darkness of the cave. She took my arm and led me to the back of the cave, as the angered voice of Prince Esryn screamed his fury to the rapidly-darkening sky.