Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 20c

There were no arrows. I wasn't even sure if the guard was chasing me. When I reached a small cluster of saplings, I slid to the ground behind them and laid myself flat on my stomach, panting. My eyes combed the landscape, but I saw no torches and heard no footsteps. All I could hear was my own ragged breathing and galloping pulse.

The fire I had started glowed bright orange. I wondered, hoping beyond hope, if maybe enough guards had gone to help. Maybe Galen and Remi could somehow fight their way out and escape.

After concluding that no one was searching for me, I got up and began circling at a distance around the compound, back to where I last saw my friends being held captive. I was too far to see anything, so I crept closer, keeping an eye out for anyone who might spot me. And for Galen and Remi, who could possibly have escaped.

But I saw no one.

I crept closer still.

A voice in my mind kept telling me I had no idea what I was doing. That I was going to get myself killed. That I should leave and warn the Forestfolk. But an even louder voice drowned it out. Galen would die. Remi would die. All those people in the pits might die.

I would find a way.

I had to.

I was a stone's throw away from the entrance, lying on the ground on my elbows just outside the reach of the torchlight. I found it odd that no one at all was outside the perimeter looking for me. Surely the guard would have told everyone what he saw by now. The fire was no longer blazing out of control, and the clamoring had stopped.

I was still trying to decide what to do next when I heard that familiar shrill voice again.

"Let go of me! I gave you the information!"

I strained to see where Pimo's voice was coming from, then he appeared at the entrance, held fast by Borga's hand on the back of his neck. I flattened myself to the ground.

"You're a liar!" Pimo screamed, trying to stomp on Borga's foot.

"Settle down," Borga said with a shake of his hand, causing Pimo's head to bob around.

Pimo fell silent and then Borga began to speak loudly into the darkness. "It's my understanding that we have a third . . . Aberration . . . skulking about. Come forward, and your little brother lives. Stay hidden, and he dies."

"That wasn't the deal!" Pimo shrieked and kicked again. "She's not coming. She hates me. It's her fault I'm here!"

Borga laughed as if Pimo had just told him a joke. "Little boy, you give her far too much credit. I would have taken you if she existed or not."

"You're a bad man." Pimo sniffled and then began to cry.

"That's my boy, put on a good show for your sister." Borga swept his eyes across the dark plain. "You have until the count of ten to show yourself! One!"

I was paralyzed. How did I get in this situation?

"Two!"

My mind raced faster than my heart. I may never have liked Pimo, but he was still family. The only blood relative I had left. The only thing left of my mother besides me.

"Three!"

If I stayed hidden, maybe I could find a way to somehow save everyone.

"Four!"

Borga would have no qualms killing a small boy. This I knew. If he died because I didn't show my face, that would be on me.

"Five!"

"She's not coming!" Pimo repeated in between sobs. "She hates me! I don't want to die!"

His wailing broke my heart, and I found myself rising slowly to my feet.

"Six!"

I swallowed hard, trying desperately to grasp at the right decision. If I gave myself up, did that mean the end of Foresthome?

"Seven!"

My breathing grew fast and shallow. If I showed myself, Pimo might be saved. If I left now, Foresthome might be saved.

"Eight! Oh my, Pimo, she is cutting it close, isn't she?"

Wasn't there a way to save everyone? I took a hesitant step forward and stopped. What if I couldn't save anyone at all?

"Nine!"

The only thing I could do was what felt right at this very moment. And at this very moment, my feet seemed to be propelling me toward the Krat Chieftain.

I entered the glow of torchlight just as Borga was about to announce the end of the count, and his eyes lit up. He looked me over and I froze in place. "A young Iceling, how charming. Pimo, how could this creature be related to you?"

Pimo stood there staring at me, mouth open in disbelief. "You came."

I didn't answer him. Couldn't even look at him. His selfishness got me into this mess, just like the last time he sold me out. Even so, there was a small measure of relief that I had done what I could to prevent his death.

"Are there any more of you rascals hiding out there?" he asked and watched me intently.

I was too petrified to reply. My body began to tremble.

"No? That's good. If this is the best that the Forestfolk have to offer, then we should encounter no resistance. Once we find them, of course."

I hated his smug voice. Like he'd already won. And maybe he had. With me apprehended, there was no way to warn them now.

"Well, don't just stand there, come closer."

I took two steps and stopped again. If I turned right this second, maybe I could still run away.

And then what? Lead them straight to Foresthome?

"You are a skittish one, aren't you?" Borga looked amused, then barked at a nearby guard, "Take this one back to the pits!"

"You were supposed to let me go!" Pimo's feet dragged as the guard hauled him away. "That was the deal!"

When his screams of outrage faded away, Borga sighed contentedly. "Screechy little thing, isn't he?"

"You won't kill him?" I ventured to ask.

"Oh, you're not mute! That's wonderful. No, he won't be harmed. Children are so impressionable. They'll grow up to be loyal Krat followers. Once you break them, of course."

Dread seeped into me, slowly crawling up my spine and spreading all over my body. I began to regret trading my life for Pimo's. That little rat probably didn't even appreciate the gravity of what I'd done.

"Well, come on," Borga said testily. "We haven't got all night." He took a step forward and I stepped back, unwilling to get any closer to this monster.

He sighed impatiently. "Do you want me to drag your little brother back out here? There are plenty of children. I won't mind losing one."

"Half brother," I snarled.

"Well, that explains the lack of family resemblance. His father must be repugnant."

I stared back at him defiantly, but eventually realized that the only direction I had was forward. With another great swallow, I pushed myself forward and hesitantly shuffled toward Borga. He stayed still, as if any sudden movement might scare me away.

It likely would have.

As soon as I was within reach, he clamped a hand painfully onto my shoulder. "That's a good girl."

He may be an nasty little urchin, but he's the only link to her mother she has left. Vote for her anyway?