1715 Escaping Udora Novavax

Warwood, Battling Country (Fourteen years after the stars fell)

Rain poured in sheets, stirring loose dirt into puddles of cold mud. A particular puddle was rolling out rivulets from the droplets.

The forest was quiet. Animals silent.

A barefoot splashed through the reflective puddle. The tiny foot cutting a swath through the woods in flowing steps.

Five sets followed, tearing heedlessly through puddles. Disrupting the night.

A parade of wraiths arriving to haunt the forest. White sleeping gowns floated in the night. Soft breaths huffing out frosty mists. Colored manes whipping in torrents of wind and rain. They ran until their little hearts were ready to erupt. Terrified the woman calling herself mother, Udora Novavax was already in pursuit.

Udora. The wicked creature who’d painstakingly collected them like precious treasure. Torturing many until, eventually, they were never seen again. Their numbers steadily dwindling over the past eight years.

Chastain, the eldest of the fleeing girls led through familiar trees. Six painstaking nights she’d mapped this path in her mind.

A stranger’s voice guiding her. He’d manifested to tell her where to go. A hazy, dark-haired image appearing next to her to point from one tree to the next as she snuck out each night to carefully etch them. Using a dull butter knife, she’d foraged from Udora’s rubbish bin.

Chastain stopped to catch her breath, knowing that even now the evil woman might be waking in the cottage. Always sensing when they tried to escape. Chastain shook her head, sending damp red tresses over her shoulders and alongside her face as she tried to banish her fears. Pressing a palm to a familiar mark on a tree. Yelping involuntarily as the slick coarse bark stung her blistered palm.

Over the years, the sores had worked through the top layer of skin, marking her palm with open wounds. Rubbing the area, she bit her cheek. Knowing their hands would be no better. Peering around the tree, she assessed the distance. Glimpsing the hazy outline of her guide.

He was here. Waiting and ready to lead them. Turning slowly with black hair billowing from his shoulders. Face twisted in worry as he pointed hauntingly to a break in the trees.

He eyed them, still as statues. Like a herd of does awaiting direction.

Wide innocent gazes were on the redhead. Shining with blind trust.

Swearing to himself at their vulnerability, he waited.

Only the eldest, the redhead could see him. Instinctively trusting him.

For some insane reason. He had no idea why.

Some primitive part of her sensing what he was. He supposed.

The rest followed her.

“Come. Follow me. Be free.” The ghostly figure whispered as he turned and walked further down the pathway. Slate gray eyes soft as he looked back to assure, she followed.

A glance behind Chastain revealed the girls’ exhaustion. With little food and less sleep, they quickly tired.

“I’m so hungry Chasy.” The little brunette held her stomach and looked back up at the oldest girl as she tripped over the muddy earth.

Chastain gestured for them to keep going while she fell back to catch Meralee’s tiny hand. The girl’s bony fingers clung to Chastain’s hand.

Starvation has taken its toll. He recognized.

I’m not sure they’re strong enough to make this journey. He swallowed, sending up a fervent prayer to the contrary.

“We’re all hungry.” Riaura snapped. “That woman tried to starve us to death!”

“Move!” Chastain whispered harshly. Pointing toward the gap in the dark trunks. Rain still dumped from the leaves overhead, dousing them.

“Do you think it’ll be Udora that comes looking for us or that man.” Sabine asked softly. Terror in her eyes.

Chastain winced.

They all feared Udora’s lover.

“Let’s hope it’s just Udora.” Chastain said. “And Radix stays behind.”

“He’ll beat us senseless.” Meralee whimpered. “He might kill us.” Sabine’s huge blue eyes were terrified. Chastain stared through the trees, trying hard to dismiss what they said as they tore through puddles.

Courageous little thing.

Little dark-haired Ebony fell once, and Chastain lowered quickly and caught her hand. Yanking her from the puddle she’d landed in.

“We have to keep moving.” She told them urgently. Squinting against the darkness as she looked for her next mark. Each moment they spared was borrowed.

“Where are we going?” Serdephe demanded. “Do you even know, Chastain?”

Serdephe was the closest to Chastain’s age. Her inquisitiveness emerging as defiance.

“I know where we’re going.”

“How?” Serdephe’s eyes narrowed on the redhead.

“I-I dreamt it.”

“Great! We’re going to die.” Serdephe tossed her arms. Purple-blue eyes accusing as she tossed hair that had, in recent years, gone from dull brown to brilliant violet. “At least I could’ve gotten some sleep before they kill us!”

“You think my back doesn’t sting from the work too Ser?”

“All of ours do.” Riaura added glowering.

“Why tonight during a downpour?” Serdephe demanded.

Because rain, the water, masks my magic to get to you and yours as you flee. Radix can’t track you.

“Do you not see her?” Chastain shook Meralee’s frail arm slightly before leaning close to Serdephe. “How many more days do you think she has in her?”

Serdephe saw how Meralee’s dark eyes were glazed over and her step grew halting.

“She can’t go much further.” Serdephe said sympathetically before sweeping the tiny girl into her arms to help.

Chastain fervently sent up a prayer.

“Dawn is coming.” Serdephe said, worry filling her tone. “I hope you have faith in this dream of yours.”

She does. She believes in me. He knew. Thank God someone does.