Page 17 of In Violent Waves
Lyra continued walking, but twisted her wrists under the rope, trying to loosen it. Wilder was too busy scanning their surroundings as they walked to notice the rope jiggling at his side.
“These fluffy things are ferns. They have fronds. I know you won’t understand that word, so I will explain. Fronds or f-r-o-n-d-s are leaves. Compound leaves, to be exact. Shall I explain what a compound is?”
Twisting and tugging at the rope as she spoke. A flap of wings startled her. But Wilder continued, not at all bothered by the proximity of the creature and still looking as if he was searching for something.
“Oh, and that must’ve been an owl,” she gushed.
The rope loosened a fraction, and she bit her lip to keep her excitement contained as she twisted some more.
“If you don’t shut up, I will gag you.” His shoulders almost touched his ears.
She really was getting under his skin, then.
A howl pierced the air, and goosebumps raised on Lyra’s arms.
“That must be a wolf!” she whispered-shouted with excitement.
The sound stopped Wilder in his tracks, and he unsheathed the sword at his hip. The blade gleamed in the moonlight, and Lyra’s mouth dried up.
While death would be preferable to the Wilds, she was not exactly ready. Sure, her entire existence until this point had been miserable, but it had been hers.
The wolf’s howl tapered off, and Wilder tugged back on the rope to get her moving again.
“Do you know what other kinds of animals live in these woods?” Lyra asked him.
“I know nothing about the mortal land, and I don’t care to. So shut up.”
She twisted and tugged at the rope again as she talked. “How can you be a prince and know nothing?”
They walked farther on in silence, each step adding to the insurmountable distance to the sea. That knowledge was unsettling. She wavered in her plans once more.
It would be excruciating to run the whole way back. But would it be worse never to return? Maybe she could live among the mortals. She knew enough about the surface world to carve out a measly existence here.
“There are probably chipmunks in these woods, and moles, and gophers. Oh, and I bet there are cardinals. They are red birds. The color of their feathers is like fresh blood.”
Wilder ground his teeth, trying his best to ignore her chatter and keep alert. But his ignoring her was what she was counting on. The rope finally gave way, widening enough that she could slip one hand out.
Her skin burned and was discolored where the rope had rubbed her raw. She held onto it and slipped the other hand outas they continued to walk so that he wouldn’t catch on to her plans yet.
Lyra knew there would be only one tiny window of opportunity.
“There are other birds that are blue, and do you know what they’re called?” She waited for a response she knew would not come. “They call them Blue Jays. How unoriginal. Why would they name a bird after the color it was called?”
“I swear to the gods, Legs. If you don’t shut your mouth …”
With his words, she lowered the rope to the ground, bending over at the waist as they walked. Her leg muscles howled with the change of position. But he didn’t notice the lowered rope on his side. Wilder breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t respond.
Lyra let go of the rope and held her breath, praying to all the gods that he wouldn’t turn around. And he did continue without her, unfazed by the quiet or the rope that rustled against the forest floor behind him. It was not louder than her tromping footsteps had been, anyway.
Wilder adjusted the pack on his shoulders and kept marching along the path.
“Finally, some peace and quiet,” he said. “This journey will not be half as miserable if you just follow my orders. It’s already taking everything I have to …”
His words trailed off as he walked on without her.
Lyra smirked, and as he walked farther away, she slipped between two large ash trees and into utter darkness. She walked off the beaten path, running her hands from tree trunk to tree trunk to find her way.
It was nice up here on land, with so many more sensations than she was accustomed to.
