A Runaway

53 6 20
                                    

He was going to die, a bully and
a coward just like his brothers

Malek

Malek raced through the dining room and went out into the gloomy storage room where he had hidden his pouch of precious things: a few coins, a red fox claw and a carving of a horse his great uncle had given him. Pipsqueak appeared in the doorway with a cheery grin. Malek concealed the pouch beneath his tunic. "Got to go," he muttered and pushed past him, ignoring the hurt that appeared in Pipsqueak's eyes.

Somehow his feet found their way to the stables and to his ride of the other day, the dark brown gelding. He breathed in the smell of horse and manure and straw and it almost calmed him. How he wished he could ride to freedom, but it was impossible with the guards at the gate. Only one realistic way of escape suggested itself: get to the outside wall and climb over it. He'd been warned against doing so, of course, but the tales about the plants were impossible to believe, so laden with hysterical details he doubted they possessed any truth at all.

The well-built stable boy mucking out the end stall gave him a suspicious stare. Malek stroked the gelding a final time to say goodbye, sauntered to the woods then sprinted to the outer wall. At first the sight of it reassured him: the layered stones promised plenty of hand-holds. Up close though, the snap-leaf vine dominated the wall in a creepy, all-encompassing way, the huge heart-shaped leaves glistening with something mysterious.

The back of Malek's neck began to prickle as his heart thrummed with a sense of impending danger. He had a strong desire to back away from the plant, a desire he made himself smother. Climbing the wall was his only chance to escape. The snap-leaf couldn't possibly be as dangerous as they all said, not for someone of his strength and all-round ability to elude capture.

Still it seemed prudent to find a less densely covered section. Malek jogged beside the wall, searching. The wide green leaves seemed to lean towards him. His imagination, of course. The brisk wind had to be the reason for any such movement.

Eventually he found a part of the wall that was clearer than the rest. A withered vine with shriveled brown leaves still clung to its stones but pulled away from the cheerful flower mushrooms at its base. There was no time to hesitate. The Hattavah would come after him soon and as much as he seemed to dislike him, he'd made it clear he wouldn't tolerate him running away.

Malek secured his pouch of precious things, and flung himself at wall, the dead plant disintegrating beneath his fingers. He was almost half-way up when something lashed at his left foot and snared it. Excruciating pain fired up his leg as an involuntary scream came from his lips. He tried to pull away but a curious numbness stopped his left leg from moving. The snap-leaves now surrounded him, rustling in their haste to reach him.

Malek watched in horror as two of the closest leaves sprang shut over his right arm. A thick sticky substance oozed out onto his skin, the burning and numbness now terrifyingly familiar. He couldn't escape. He was going to die, a bully and a coward just like his brothers.

Thank you for reading this far. Next up is Dakkoul's point of view.

The Vixen TrialsHikayelerin yaşadığı yer. Şimdi keşfedin