Aris's twin sister managed to escape the group b maze and has been living above the group a maze since she was eleven, biding her time until she could save her brother. She travels by jumping wall to wall but one day, she needs food and gets a bit t...
Isla Heliwr Black awoke to rain. She groaned in annoyance.
The water droplets pelted the sides of her small hut which she had built upon the top of one of the maze walls, a deafening drumbeat trying to drill inside her brain. Isla hated the rain, it was loud and made everything damp and cold and the tops of the walls became slippery when wet.
Whenever it rained, it meant she would have to stay at home for a few days or risk misjudging a jump and sliding off the other side of the wall. Plus Isla was running low on food. The good news was, when it was raining, the boys often remained inside their huts so if she could make it to the centre without falling to her death, stealing food would be easy.
Her small collection of potted vegetables would not be enough to get her through the next three days.
Isla stretched as she stood, tucking her small book of poetry inside the leather backpack where she kept all her most treasured belongings.
It was the only book she had left, the others had been torn up by time or rotted by rain, yet another reason she hated this weather.
Pulling on her rain jacket and boots, Isla pondered what she would do for her birthday. It was in two days time and she usually just stole something extra interesting from the centre.
Perhaps she'd take a person this time, after all, it was her sixteenth, that deserved something extra exciting, didn't it?
Isla grinned, making sure her bag was packed with spare bandages, extra water, the last of her food and the book of poetry. She swung it over her shoulder and grabbed the saddle on her way out the door.
Isla whistles for Fala, her favourite griever who came scampering up the wall and sat before her, a wolfish grin on its insect-like face. She smiled, reaching up to attach the saddle to her pet's back.
She had found the griever when it was only young, it had been the runt and had its leg caught beneath a rock. Isla found the pathetic creature and had nursed it back to health, naming it and feeding it a diet of small birds and cockroaches.
Fala kept her company and prevented her from losing it entirely.
Climbing up onto the griever's back, she gave a light tap of her heels and they were off across the wall tops.
The wind tore at her clothes and whipped her long, dark braid onto her eyes. The rain continued to beat down on them but despite her hatred for it, she loved the smell of the storm.
A smile graced Isla's lips as Fala gave a screech of warning before she leapt over the side and they plummeted towards the maze floor. Isla cackled in delight.
Pet and mistress raced towards the centre of the maze together, the clack of Fala's pincer like legs against the stone floor resounding through the glade.
Fala came to a screeching halt at the entrance, allowing Isla to swing herself over the griever's back and land on the ground with a muted thud.
Isla stepped quietly towards the opening in the wall, glancing around to make sure none of the boys were out and about.
After a quick scan of her surroundings, she took off across the glade, heading towards the kitchen. She stopped at the door, listening for the boy the others called Frypan. She knew he was the cook so he could often be found where the food was stored.
Isla smiled at the silence and slipped through the door. Ducking under pots and pans, she made her way to the pantry, keeping an ear out for any of the gladers.
She reached the pantry and her grin nearly split her face as she saw that they had apples. She loved apples.
Swinging her back pack around to sit across her chest, Isla filled it with tins of preserves, apples by the dozen and some cheese and bread.
As she was leaving, she smelt something wonderful. Muffins.
Isla turned, sneaking to look around the corner of the kitchen. She saw the glorious piles of sugar and carbs sitting on a rack, steam rising off of them. Still hot.
She hasn't had something sweet in so long, the last time she had muffins was when that cute blonde jumped off one of the walls. She tried to stop him but couldn't reach him in time, she did however keep the grievers away long enough for him to survive.
Tiptoeing towards the rack, Isla grabbed four of the cinnamon muffins in a cloth and tucked them into the top of the bag.
"Frypan! I hope you don't mind but I baked muffins cause I was sad and it was the first recipe I found!" A voice like smooth honey called out. Isla scrambled to get out of the building. Fala was waiting for her by the entrance, her getaway driver and vehicle in one.
A head of sandy blonde hair ducked through the hut's only exit and Isla scrabbled away, causing her to bump into a stack of pots and pans which clanged to the ground, knocking over numerous jars and plates.
They hit the ground hard and shattered on impact, shards of glass and ceramic spraying in all directions. A shard sliced across her brow, causing blood to drip into her eye, another slit her cheek and as she stumbled away from the blonde who stood in the door way, shocked, her foot caught.
Isla turned to stop her fall, bracing for impact. As her feet slipped from beneath her, Isla's face hit the table. She felt the bridge of her nose split. Pain lanced through her head and shoulder as she hit the ground and she knew her shrill cry of pain would bring Fala running to her aid.
"What the bloody hell is going on here?!" The rich voice of the blonde exclaimed.
A/N: this was a long chapter. We've finally met newt. I wonder how he'll react to the muffin thief.
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