Brightly Woven Page 8

North picked up my bag and loom, helping me to my feet.

“Why me?” I repeated over the deafening wind. “You could have had anyone!”

“Yes,” he said, taking one last look at the village below. “But I only need you.”

The sun hadn’t fully arched into the sky when we found the first soldier. I don’t know why I hadn’t expected to find them lurking up in the mountain passes, waiting to see if they could catch an escaped villager or a traveler trying foolishly to enter the valley.

North saw him a moment before I caught the flash of the arrow tip, strung on the scout’s bow. There was a chance the scout hadn’t seen us at all, but North yanked me back against him. For a moment, I thought he meant to use me as a shield, but the force of it sent us stumbling behind the nearest rock formation in a tangled heap. I pressed my hand against my mouth.

I glanced around one side of the rocks, searching for some path I recognized. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw North rise to his knees, his green cloak in one hand.

“Don’t you dare!” I hissed. “If you use magic against that scout, you’ll call the rest of them to us.”

“It’s the only choice we have,” he said. “We can run for it in all the confusion.”

“What’s so confusing about a wizard using magic?” I asked. “They’re likely looking for you, and if you do this, you might as well paint the targets on our backs.”

“If you’re going to knock down my suggestion, you’d better have one to replace it.” The irritation was plain on his face.

I glanced around the side of the rock again. The path we were on was one Henry and I had used many times before, but instead of going left, toward the caverns, North had taken us right. We needed to get back to the caverns unnoticed.

“Can you distract him?” I whispered. “Just for a moment? He needs to turn his back on us.”

“Oh, so now you require my services?” he asked humorlessly, and brought up the same yellow cloak I had mended the night before.

“Not too much,” I warned.

The gust of wind that emerged kicked up the loose rocks and dirt, and the scout staggered backward. He didn’t turn, but it was all the distraction we needed. I grabbed a fistful of North’s cloaks and dragged him after me. Our boots slid against the mud as we ran, and I didn’t dare look back as we cut through every rock formation and crack in the earth I could find. I thought I heard the call of a horn behind us, and North’s arm tensed as he tried to slow me down. It was the only way we could slip out unnoticed, though we would waste hours crawling through the caverns.

The wizard had some difficulty sliding down through the cavern’s entrance, and in any other situation I might have laughed at the way his feet struggled to find purchase against the slick rocks.

Henry and I had used the caverns as a way to escape the heat. We had spent days down in the darkness, feeling our way when our eyes failed us. Once, I had hoped to find a hidden pool of water, like the one in my storybooks—but now all I needed was a safe route to the northern road.

There was a thud behind me, followed by a string of curses so violent it made my ears burn.

“Careful,” I whispered, glad for the darkness that hid my smile. North crept up beside me, one gloved hand clutching his forehead, the other still holding our bags and my loom.

“Rotting good path you’ve found us,” he whispered furiously. After that, there was nothing but the echo of dripping water to mark time.

I wished someone had thought to pack me a pair of gloves to keep the rocks from cutting my hands. The skirt of my dress was soaked through with the rainwater that had collected in the cavern overnight, but I kept us moving downward, deeper into the water.

“We’ll be swimming soon,” North said. “You should have just let me use magic—!”

“Here,” I cut him off. My hands had found the gap in the dark stone I had been searching for. I pressed my body between its narrow walls. The exact moment I caught the first hint of sunlight, I felt for North’s arm to make sure he was still behind me.

The path had widened, giving me a clear view. I scanned the rocks above, searching for a glint of metal or scarlet. When I was sure it was safe, I pulled us both free from the darkness.

Once he saw where we were, North tried to take control of the situation, turning to run in the very same direction from which we had come.

“North!” I said, as loudly as I dared. “This way!”

He kept his eyes on the path before him.

“We just came that way,” I said. “Honestly, do you have no sense of direction whatsoever?”

North bristled. “How was I supposed to know? The mountains are all the same! For all you know, my way could work, too.”

“The Westwood road runs west to east, not north to south, wise one,” I whispered, checking to make sure no one was within earshot. “It’s the main road to the eastern coast. If we want to get out of these mountains, we need to find it.”

“And how in the seven hells would you know that?” North asked, blocking my path with his arm. “You said you’ve never left Cliffton.”

“Because one day I wanted to take that road out of Cliffton.” I shoved his arm out of my way. “Unlike you, I actually bothered to learn how to read maps and what roads lead to where.”

North was quiet for a moment. “So…if one wanted to, let’s say, go to Dellark…how would one do that?”

Prev page Next page