Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2) (25 page)

The teenager was squatting in front of me, and next to him, his dog sat on its haunches. They were both staring at me, the same hard glint of mistrust in their eyes. I couldn’t be imagining this, could I?
No one
could dream this
.
No one in their right mind anyway
. I pushed the thought away—it wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

I licked my dry lips and tried to swallow. Perhaps I could convince the teenager to give me some water. I lifted my arms, cupped my hands, and lifted them to my mouth as if I was having a drink.

He looked worried for a moment and glanced over to the others. But then he untied a flask from the strap he wore across his body. He took a bung from the top and offered the flask to me. I hesitated. The flask had a strange, curved shape, and it looked as though it was made of leather. Would there be water inside, or something strange? He shook the flask and frowned, already growing impatient. I hated to think what these people drank, but I was almost too thirsty to care. Maybe it was just water—there was only one way to find out.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. I took the bottle and held it to my lips. I could smell the leather, but the mouth of the flask was hard and smooth and clean. When I took a sip, the water had a faint acidic tang, but it was fresh and good. I gulped it down greedily.

Hafoc couldn’t believe what he was seeing. How could anyone guzzle so much precious water? “No,” he said. But the stranger took no notice. “No.” He jumped up and snatched the flask from the stranger’s hands. “How can you be so careless?” he demanded. “Don’t you understand? Now we’ll run out of water.”

The stranger held up his hands and showed his palms. Hafoc raised his fist, and when the stranger flinched, Hafoc snorted in disgust. What kind of a man was this? He glanced over at the others. Tostig was already coming over to see what was going on. Hafoc scowled at the stranger, then he bent down and pulled on the rope to check it was still tied securely. He looked the stranger in the eye. “Don’t make such a fuss,” he grumbled under his breath. But the stranger just shook his head—he clearly didn’t understand.
I’m wasting my breath
, Hafoc thought. He looked away and stood straight as Tostig approached.

“Everything all right?” Tostig said.

“Yes,” Hafoc said. “I’m sorry, I made too much noise. But I gave him water and he took far too much.”

Tostig nodded. “Perhaps he needed it.”

Hafoc hesitated before replying. “Yes. I suppose so.”

“He doesn’t look well,” Tostig said. “I wonder. Do you think we did the right thing, to bring him with us?”

Hafoc raised his eyebrows. Was Tostig really asking his opinion? “Yes. Yes, of course.”

Tostig grunted. “Good. And you did the right thing when you gave him water.”

Hafoc nodded slowly.

“Hafoc, none of us have fought the Wandrian before,” Tostig said. “Your father would’ve prepared you for what you must do today. In his place, I can only offer a few words of wisdom. Stay strong and stay close, and remember, in a fight, things change very quickly. Keep your wits about you and be ready to strike.”

Hafoc opened his mouth to speak but before he could reply, Flyta joined them. “We should be moving,” Flyta said. “We’ve rested long enough.”

Tostig put his hand on Hafoc’s shoulder. “Bring the stranger. And, Hafoc, remember what I told you.”

I kept a wary eye on their leader. It looked like he was giving the teenager a pep talk. Then, as I watched, they started getting ready to set off; putting away their flasks, checking their weapons. The teenager picked up the rope and went to untie it from the tree. I forced myself to my feet. It was better than being yanked up by the rope.

“Come on,” I said. “We may as well get on with it.”

The leader gave me a look, sizing me up. He nodded once to the teenager, and then he turned and walked away. The others fell in behind him, leaving me to stumble along behind.
At least I’ve had a rest
,
and a little water
. I let out a heavy sigh and willed my aching legs into motion. But I wasn’t going to try too hard to keep up. It seemed like they were getting fed up of dragging me around behind them. Maybe, if I hung back and slowed them down, they’d give up and let me go. It was worth a try.

But we hadn’t gone far when suddenly, the dog bared its teeth and growled, its hackles raised. The men stopped dead in their tracks. The leader gave a hand signal and as one, they crouched.
Oh god
.
What now?
I wondered. But I copied them—it didn’t feel like I had a choice. The men had been tense before, but now they were anxious, jittery. They were giving each other furtive glances; their jaws clenched, their eyes narrowed. For a moment, it looked like no one knew what to do, but then their leader looked at each of them in turn, gesturing with his hands, and immediately they all started checking their weapons in silence.

All I could do was crouch in the undergrowth and wait. I chewed the inside of my cheek.
Perhaps they’re hunting
, I thought. After all, there were deer in the woods and if these men were on some sort of crazy hunting expedition it would explain their bows and arrows.

I watched the teenager place an arrow against the string of his bow. He threw me a look of annoyance and I knew what he was thinking: how could he shoot an arrow while he was holding my rope? This could be a chance for escape. While they were intent on their prey, I might be able to slip away.
Go on
.
Put the rope down
—
just for one second.
But the teenager was paying me more attention than I thought, and when I glanced down at the rope, he followed my gaze then he looked me in the eye and shook his head slowly. I tried to look innocent but he wasn’t fooled. He stepped up to the nearest tree, threw the rope around it and tied a knot. He wasn’t as stupid as I’d thought. But I might still have a chance to get away. If they chased after their prey and left me alone, even for half a minute, there was nothing to stop me from untying the knot. I looked at the teenager and sighed as though I was disappointed that he’d foiled my plans. I wanted him to think I’d given up.

Then suddenly, they froze. They tilted their heads as if they’d heard something. But the looks they gave each other weren’t just anxious. The men were clearly scared. A shiver ran down my spine.
I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t just a hunting expedition
. And then I heard the voices. They were too faint for me to make out the words, but they were men’s voices, and by the sound of it, there were quite a few of them. I tilted my head, concentrating. Were the voices getting nearer or farther away?

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep quiet, but the ferns rustled against my leg. The teenager shot me a look, and when I saw his expression, everything changed. The teenager’s face was pale, his lips drawn tight against his teeth, and his eyes were round with fear. He was utterly terrified.

What does it take to frighten these maniacs?
One answer flashed into my mind: the police. These weapon-wielding thugs would not want to be discovered by the authorities. Even a gamekeeper or a park ranger would have something to say about their bows and arrows. And people in authority would have mobile phones and vehicles. This was it. This was my chance to be rescued, perhaps the only chance I’d get—I had to take it. Even if the voices didn’t belong to policemen or park rangers, but to normal, everyday people, they would surely help me.
So long as they’re tough enough
—
if not, anything could happen
. I glanced at the three men and the teenager. How would they react to being discovered? Would they run, or fight? I shuddered at the thought of those bows and arrows being used in anger. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into danger. But I had to escape. These men had threatened me, beaten me and bound my hands. At the very least, they meant to do me harm, and at worst, they planned to kill me. I had to face up to the truth. Every second I stayed with these men took me closer to a shallow grave in the woods.

I closed my eyes for a moment. There was only one thing I could do. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs, then I stood up straight, pushed my shoulders back, and I yelled. I yelled with every scrap of strength I could muster, and with every last gasp of air in my lungs. “Help!” I cried. “Help me! Over here! Help!”

Instantly, the forest was filled with the sound of men crashing through the undergrowth. My captors stared at one another for a heartbeat, and then they ran. They scattered, leaping over the ferns and darting around trees. In moments, they were gone, melting into the shadows. Even the dog had disappeared.

I laughed. “Oh my god. If I’d known it was that easy, I’d have done it ages ago.” But then I saw the men running toward me, and suddenly I knew exactly why the teenager had been so scared.

They charged into view, tearing through the forest, screeching and howling as they closed in on me. The sound shuddered through me, chilled me to the core. But their blood-curdling yelps were nothing compared to the sight of these men. Their wild, staring eyes burned with a furious lust for blood. Their snarling lips were pulled back to show their crooked, savage teeth. Their pale faces, twisted in rage, were masked by a frenzied design of swirling black lines, and each of them carried a weapon; a crude axe held at shoulder height, ready to strike, to split a skull.

I pulled frantically against the rope. It bit into my wrist, but the knots held it tight to the tree. I stumbled forward. I had to untie myself. But it was too late for that. Too late to even try.

The painted men had seen me straight away. Now, they slowed their pace and homed in on me. There were six of them, and they moved with the swift, determined rhythm of a pack of wild dogs. They were unstoppable, relentless. A fierce, insatiable hunger smouldered in their dark, pitiless eyes.

I backed against the tree. “No,” I whispered. “This can’t be happening.”

The men gathered in front of me. They stood, breathing hard, their teeth bared in vicious smiles. They exchanged glances, their eyes alight with excitement, glittering with greed.

My legs buckled beneath me. Only the tree at my back prevented me from collapsing onto the ground. My mind reeled.
What have I done?
But I knew the answer. I knew I’d just made a terrible mistake. And I knew one other thing for certain—my life was over.

Chapter 23

2018

CALLY SIGHED and scanned the crowded tea shop for any sign of an empty table. She gave Andrew an apologetic smile. She’d known the place would be busy, but this was ridiculous. Still, Andrew seemed happy to stand quietly and look around the room, a faint smile on his lips.
He’s patient
, Cally thought.
That’s nice
. Then suddenly, he wasn’t by her side, but moving across the room, squeezing his way through the narrow gaps between the tables.

Andrew stopped next to a table near the window, where a woman was trying to organise her two young children while simultaneously gathering up their discarded jumpers and waterproof coats.

“Excuse me,” Andrew said. “I’m sorry to bother you.” He bent down and scooped up something from the floor. A flash of annoyance crossed the woman’s face. She was getting to the end of her tether, but her frown melted into a grateful smile as Andrew stood up and she saw what he was holding.

“I think you dropped this,” Andrew said. He held out a piece of paper that was thoroughly covered with a mass of bright colours.

“Oh, thank you,” the woman said. “We’ve have been looking for that for ages.”

“No problem,” Andrew said. “We can’t have such fine artworks on the floor.” Andrew offered the paper to the children. “Now, who’s the great artist?”

The woman beamed. “Go on, Helen—say thank you to the gentleman.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. She grinned, but she was too shy to reach out and accept the drawing.

“You’re welcome,” Andrew said. “I’ll just put it here for now.” He found a space for the drawing on the cluttered table. “I’d better get back to my friend.” He nodded toward Cally, then made as if to walk away.

“Oh, haven’t you got a table?” the woman asked.

“No such luck,” Andrew said. “I think we might have to try somewhere else.”

“Well, we’re just leaving. Please, have this table. We won’t be a minute.”

Andrew smiled. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

The woman bundled the assortment of jumpers and coats under her arm and picked up her handbag. “Come on,” she said to the children. “We’ll sort these out later. Don’t forget your drawings.”

The children dutifully stood up and Andrew waved Cally over.

Cally picked her way across the room, trying not to smile too widely.
So
,
he’s charming and polite, he behaves like a gentleman and he’s good with children
. Was there nothing wrong with this man? She couldn’t think of a single thing. She bit her bottom lip. This was all going very well. It felt like the start of something. Something good.

Andrew stood aside as the woman herded her children toward the door. She gave him a little smile as she left and Andrew nodded in acknowledgement. He turned to Cally. “This table OK for you?” he asked.