The Windcaster [Fantasy/Adventure | Featured | Complete ]

Chapter 43: Out of the Frying Pan and Into the Fire

Tia pressed her upper back against the wall, quaking like a leaf, her face white as chalk.

The speaker was a girl a few years older than the Windcaster, sitting cross-legged on one of the chairs next to the door. She looked like a perfectly normal teen, with thick red-brown hair tied back, a flat nose, and full lips that were curved in a smile. Deep blue eyes stared with curiosity.

Tia's green eyes darted around the room for routes of escape. Sweat had broken out all over her body. The door to the left of the sitting girl was left ajar. She made to leap out of the bed, mentally readying herself to break into a run–

–and flopped like a doll on the bed.

Her legs were like jelly, shaking like a startled hare. What was left of her energy had drained almost entirely out of her body, which ached all over as though she had run for miles. Her breathing came in quick, desperate gasps. The world spun around her as her brain protested against the sudden movement.

"Relax," said the same voice. Tia could hear her getting up and padding over. Rough but careful hands grabbed her shoulder and turned her back over, and Tia found herself staring at those deep blue eyes. The hands patted her hair into place – far too close a gesture for comfort. "You're safe here."

Safe? Tia thought, incredulous, as her stomach did another somersault. She stared back at the flag hanging above the door, which had first caught her eye. She had hoped the clashing colours and the insignia were hallucinations, but no such luck. Her blood ran cold.

Gwent. She was in Gwent.

After fleeing for so many days from the bloodthirsty Mawlinese, she had narrowly escaped their clutches, from death, only to fall head-first into the grasp of another ruthless enemy of Dernexes.

Tia flinched as that hand brushed her fringe out of her eyes. Seeing the reaction, the girl withdrew at last, a frown on her heart-shaped face as she took a few steps back and tilted her head to the side as though observing Tia like a fascinating new pet.

Tia was terrified, despite the apparent lack of immediate threat. She had failed. She needed to escape from the Mawlinese and protect the book, and yet she fell into the trap of another enemy country.

The book!

With a cry of panic, she looked around, craning her neck left and right. Her hands skimmed the surface of the rough quilt covering her body, her fingers desperate to feel for the familiar thick, leather-bound tome. Green eyes darted around the room, hoping against hope that it was somewhere nearby, not in enemy hands, not being misused. Her throat began to close up again and she was struggling to breathe.

No, it wasn't on the bed. She sat up quickly and nearly blacked out from the dizziness that enveloped her.

"Hey, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that." Concerned, the other girl stood up again, but didn't approach her. "What's wrong?"

Tia didn't reply. She flipped the covers and cast her eyes around the room again – but she couldn't see it. She flopped back onto the bed. Dead weighed on her chest like a rock.

"My tome..."Tia's voice broke. The girl blinked at her, confused, before realising what she meant.

"Oh, that book you had?" She pointed to the corner of the room.  Tia followed her gaze. Her eyes lit up as they fell upon the leather-bound Book of Wind, lying on the table in the corner. Her staff rested against the edge. "We didn't do anything to it. We picked you up and even though you were unconscious, you wouldn't let go. It must be something important, eh?"

"Very," she croaked, longing to run across the room and feel it in her hands again. It was still so vulnerable, lying across the room from her. "Many lives depend on it."