Page 122 of The Witch in the Dead of Night

My jaw slackened. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

His eyes widened. “Please be quiet,” he begged. “I heard about what happened. I wanted to help.”

“What are you talking about?”

He beckoned for me to stand. I scrambled to my feet, eyeing him warily. “I can get you out of here,” he whispered. “You just have to trust me.”

“I don’t trust you,” I bit out before I could stop myself. “Why would I?”

He shrugged. “Do you have a choice?”

My jaw snapped shut. I thought about issuing a threat about what would await him if this was a trick, but it would have been empty. He jerked his head toward the back of the tent. “Let’s go.”

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” I hissed.

He shook his head. “I’ll help you, but I don’t trust you. Besides, this way if they catch us, it’ll look far less suspicious.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered to myself.

He knelt at the edge of the canvas and tugged it upward, gesturing for me to go first. I sighed resignedly then lowered myself awkwardly to the ground, rolling through the gap. Bound and rolling in the dirt, I thought. How humiliating. Geraint joined me on the other side and helped me to my feet.

He gently urged me forward. “I can’t open a portal here,” he explained under his breath. “The whole place is warded.”

We wrapped around the perimeter of the encampment, keeping to the shadows. The pebbles strewn across the ground pricked the soles of my feet through my socks. I didn’t dare protest. Or breathe too deeply. My ears strained for signs of anyone coming to stop us. What if Lenora discovered us? Or, worse, the cloaked witch? I shuddered. I never wanted to see him again.

I counted the paces as we crept toward the exit. Fifty, forty-nine, forty-eight …

“What about the guards?” I whispered suddenly. “Is there only one way out?”

The corners of Geraint’s lips turned upwards. “I’ll take care of it.”

I sucked in a breath as the gate came into sight. Two guards were posted outside, staring into the distance with weapons in hand. Geraint tugged on my elbow, urging me to stop. He glanced around like a fox being cornered by hounds. Gods, what was he about to do? He pointed a finger at the guards, who immediately keeled over into the dirt, the earth muffling the clatter of their weapons as they rolled out of their hands.

I shot him an alarmed glance. “What have you done?”

“They’re only sleeping,” he replied, pressing forward.

As we passed through the gate, the guard closest to my left foot snored. I stepped gingerly over them, hurrying after Geraint as he picked up his pace. As we widened the distance from the encampment, I wondered how long it would take them to notice that I was gone. I glanced worriedly over my shoulder, but no one was on our trail. Not yet, at least.

“This is far enough.”

My chest rose and fell rapidly as we came to a halt. The witch raised his palms in an arc above his head. The scent of pine tickled my nose as he peeled aside the air, revealing the dense trees of a forest. My heart leaped.

Geraint sucked his lower lip between his teeth, wringing his hands together.

“They’ll know it was you, won’t they?” I asked.

He smiled softly, his gaze flicking to meet mine. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.”

I hit the earth so forcefully that all the air was expelled from my lungs. Geraint’s gray eyes were wide through the shrinking portal, his hand still outstretched. He had shoved me through it with more strength than I would have expected from a stringy thing like him. I didn’t have time to thank him before the portal closed.

Sucking in a ragged breath, I forced myself to sit up, scanning my surroundings. I had landed in the middle of a pine-filled forest. Above my head, the sky was crowded with blinking stars.

I cursed. I could be thousands of miles away from anywhere familiar. Worse still, my rescuer hadn’t taken the time to undo my bonds before dumping me here.

I scrambled to my feet, spinning around in an attempt to find something familiar in the sprawling darkness. Wolves howled somewhere in the night, and I prayed that the blood trickling languidly down my cheek wouldn’t draw them any nearer.

Who knew what other horrors awaited me in the dense thicket? I had heard stories of the ancient woods of northern Valen. Evil spirits were said to wander them in the dead of night, lying in wait for mortals to fall helplessly into their laps. If I started walking, only the gods knew how long I would be wandering until I encountered anyone. I willed myself not to cry.