Grounding the Storm ✓

Chapter 20

The storm intensifies into the night. Thunder shakes the glass walls and while the light drifts away, leaving nothing but twinkling fire down in the city, lightning cuts through those obscure clouds. All of this because of one angered prince, of one witch incapable of controlling his power.

In case anyone visits me in the hours before my escape, I hide the satchel underneath my bed, still untouched. I will not lay underneath the covers and consider the empty space to be my own. The floorboards are more comfortable where the fire is concerned, and that is too far away from the bed to be in the same room. Celestine and I have gone from cramped confines in Arego to chambers that are the same size as our old home. Arego is still our home, I have to remind myself.

Too bad I won't be here to get used to this.

When night finally settles and the castle rests, I slide the satchel over my shoulder, clasp my cloak, and slip out the door. The hinges don't creak and my steps are silent down the stone stairs. No one will ever notice I'm gone, not until tomorrow morning, when Renit marches in to make my life worse. He's always ready to train before anyone else has even considered waking themselves up.

I won't be here.

Celestine will understand. It's better for her that I'm gone. That way, she might stand a chance at surviving this twisted game at the castle; her improvement in the garden has caught the eyes of some of the most esteemed witches and around every corner, she is praised. My sister will fit in well here and already, she doesn't need me. I will use that as my motivation to keep going when everything else is falling apart.

I slip through the shadows in the castle, keeping to the dark. The only time I'm exposed is when lightning flashes through the windows and illuminates the opposite wall, in which my shadow stretches tall. Otherwise, I'm as silent and as unnoticeable as a ghost drifting through. I sneak through the front doors of the castle and out into the night air.

My body shivers on instinct and I pull the cloak tighter around me to block out the rushing winds and the thick rain falling from the sky. The fat drops land on the cobblestone, splashing into puddles. Fog casts itself around the open spaces of the courtyard and in the distance, the stables are nothing more than a sheet of impenetrable mist. The horses on the inside sleep soundly despite the haste of the storm.

Instead of heading towards the clearing, I turn in the opposite direction and head towards the walls surrounding the royal grounds. If I recall correctly, the witches of gardens brought the thick vines back to life for the year. Perfect for climbing.

Lightning snaps the courtyard to life and I crouch low to the ground, running towards the wall with such precision, I feel like I'm on a mission. Is this what freedom feels like? No one notices me and no one cares. I'm as nameless as an assassin, as a killer bred to hunt and murder.

Stealth. I have to remind myself of stealth.

The wall comes into view, breaking through the fog, and I nearly jump for glee at the sight of those strong vines. My gloved hands grasp them and I hoist myself up, squinting against the pouring rain and groundbreaking winds. How can Renit create such a powerful storm and look unphased all the while? Is this how he relieves the built-up power? He starts a storm to tear the castle to shreds and leaves puddles for everyone else to deal with the next day. Selfish, cruel prince. I can't stand him.

The vines are slippery but I have strong footholds in the knots. My arms burn with every hoist up, even with a secure place to plunk my boots. Before long, I'm sitting on top of that stone wall, crouching, surveying what is beyond. Woods. It's the perfect escape, I'll remain hidden if someone comes after me and if they do—I've never been unskilled at climbing trees. That was all Bren and I did one summer, we held competitions to crown a winner, either of us who could climb the fastest to the highest branch.