Page 33 of The Darkest Knight

“If you must relieve yourself, do so now,” he said, his voice edged with reluctant patience.

He released her, and Tammie stumbled toward the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind her. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the lock. After using the toilet, she splashed cold water on her face, forcing herself to think. Whoever he was, wherever he planned to take her, it couldn’t be anywhere good.

An idea struck her. Grabbing the toothpaste, she quickly squeezed out a message on the mirror with her finger. Help. Taken to other realm. Meliot.

Just as she finished, the door opened.

Tammie stepped out of the bathroom, careful to keep her expression neutral. She prayed the stranger wouldn’t notice the hastily written message on the mirror behind her. He stood waiting, his dark eyes locked on her, unblinking.

“We must leave,” he said again, his tone firmer this time.

Tammie took a deliberate step back, feigning reluctance. “At least tell me who you are,” she said, hoping to stall further. “If you expect me to go with you, I deserve to know that much.”

“I am called Gunther,” he replied with a slight incline of his head. His voice, deep and gravelly, carried an air of authority. “That is all you need to know for now.”

Gunther. Definitely German, she thought, filing the information away. Though it gave her no clearer picture of what she was dealing with, at least it was something.

“Where you’re taking me?” Tammie asked again, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “And why?”

Gunther didn’t reply. Instead, he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the window. Tammie struggled, but his grip was unbreakable.

“Wait! Wait!” she cried, panic flaring. “We can’t go out the window! We are on the second floor.”

Gunther didn’t seem to hear her. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arms around her and before she could scream, he stepped onto the window ledge and leaped into a swirly void.

The wind roared around them as they fell, the world a blur of dark sky and streaking light. Tammie clung to Gunther, her heart hammering wildly, her already weak stomach threatening. She squeezed her eyes shut taking shallow breaths, praying not to get sick.

They landed hard on a blanket of snow, Gunther absorbing the brunt of the impact as they tumbled across the frozen ground. The surroundings were barren, ice- and snow-covered landscape as far as she could see. It was like what she imagined the Arctic was like.

Gunther rose smoothly, as if the fall had been nothing more than a mild inconvenience. He scanned their surroundings, sword in hand. Tammie followed his gaze, shivering violently.

She scrambled away from him and began to throw up. Just when she thought it stopped, her stomach would lurch again. Blindly, she stumbled to what looked to be a frozen tree and leaned on it, willing her stomach to still.

The cold was unlike anything she had ever felt, sharp and biting, sinking into her bones as if her clothing was inconsequential. Shivering so hard, her teeth chattering, it was astounding her they didn’t shatter into pieces.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Gunther didn’t answer. He motioned her closer. “We must share the cloak to avert the cold.”

Tammie backed away from him. “Stay away from me. I would rather freeze then get close to you.”

“You will freeze without this,” He told her, his eyes flat. Removing the cloak from around his shoulders, he tossed it at her. “Put it on and follow me. We have to go.” He turned and walked away.

The relief from the cold was immediate. The warmth of the fur and his body seeped into her. Tammie held the cloak tight, picking it up from the ground so she could walk and not trip. She considered going in the opposite direction, but besides the fact that he’d probably catch her, she didn’t want to die of exposure.

No other practical choice, she followed after him.

They trudged through the snow in silence, the only sounds their labored breathing and the crunch of ice beneath their boots. The wind howled around them, carrying with it strange, haunting echoes that set Tammie’s nerves on edge.

A sudden growl broke the silence.

Tammie whirled around, heart in her throat. Four massive wolves, their fur a mix of gray and white, stood at the edge of a nearby ridge. Their eyes glowed an unnatural yellow, and their fangs gleamed in the dim light.

“Oh my god,” she whispered. “This cannot be happening.”

Gunther didn’t hesitate. He drew his sword with a swift, practiced motion and stepped in front of her. “Stay close,” he ordered. “If they attack, we will run.”

Easier said than done, Tammie thought, but she nodded, too terrified to argue.