The Fairest (Sample)

Chapter 6: Freedom



When nothing stirred after a minute, she glanced at the boy again. He slowly began to slip from the bed. Whatever he had pointed out, it had to have been a person. A dog would’ve already awoken and alerted everyone with its constant barking. She readjusted her footing and held onto the chute’s frame to continue climbing into the quarters. With a hand resting on the hilt of the dagger clipped to her belt, she peeked behind the door, trying to keep it from making any more creaking noises.

A gray-haired guard, wrapped in a thick cloak, sat beside the lit fireplace. His head hung back against the wall, his mouth wide open. His soft snores mingled with the shouting chaos of the prisoners outside of the room.

By this time, the rest of the children were now aware of her presence and sat perfectly still in their beds as she tiptoed towards the guard. She gestured to Dean, now climbing inside, and he quickly got into action.

The guard must’ve felt their presence because he choked awake. He only had a moment to gasp before Dean punched him straight between the eyes. He caught the guard before he slumped over to the floor and repositioned him in the chair. Dean gave her a quick smirk and stretched out his aching hand.

Then they turned to the children, who were unable to sleep in their ordeal, faces crusted from hours of nonstop crying. Mageia knew a few hours from now, guards would enter with basins of water and sacred robes for the children to change into. With the level of celebration rising outside the front gates of the Taefo, a decision could be made to prepare the children earlier.

They had to move fast.

“Are you here to save us?” the 10-year-old whispered, getting out of his bed.

“Yes,” she said. “I need you to gather everyone, silently.”

The sorrow in the boy’s eyes quickly lit in strong determination. He went to each child, all of them under the age of ten, with various ailments and deformities. Mageia thanked the gods, seeing no one was sick to the point she’d have to leave them behind. They ushered the children to the laundry chute and, one at a time, they climbed up to the roof. One of the smaller ones had a very bad leg that curled inward. Leaving his crutch behind, the 10-year-old offered to carry him on his back. The rescue went quickly and smoothly to her liking, but the hairs along her arms sat on ends. Any sudden sound could have a guard enter within seconds.

With soft feet, Mageia went to block the door with a chest of bed linens and toiletries. Beyond the only exit in the room was the muffled sound of men talking and laughing down the hall amidst the wails of the condemned. A slight whimper arose to her far left within the darkness, and she froze. Sitting in the corner of the room was a wooden crib. That’s when she realized she had counted only eleven children when it was supposed to be twelve.

Gods above, she thought, approaching the crib. Lying asleep inside was a baby girl. The structure of her skull was unnaturally squeezed, a defect that automatically marked her for a mercy death.

She waved Dean over and he glanced inside. “Great gods. We can’t take her.”

“But she’s a baby.”

“Ay. A baby that cries. Plus, look at her skull. She has to have some type of brain damage.”

“So, what?” Mageia’s eyes watered as she stared at the beautiful baby, whom the Fairs would’ve called ugly and unworthy to take care of. Did not this baby have a right to live, to grow, and to die free?

She shook her head and carefully wrapped the baby from head to toe with the blanket she lay on. “I can’t leave her.”

“Damn, Geia, she’s going to weigh us down.”

“Just make sure everyone else gets out, okay?” She picked up the baby, and she stirred for a second. Her heart skipped. When she stilled, Dean helped to tie her securely around Mageia’s torso.

Dean went to the last child, a girl, eyes coated white from blindness, and placed her on his back and began to climb up. Mageia waited until Dean and the girl were out of the chute and all the children were across the planks before she ascended. As she quickened her pace, her foot slipped on the ladder, causing her body to swing and slam against the chute. The thud echoed downward.

The baby stirred awake as she clutched her close to her bosom, and the chute erupted in wails.

“Shush,” she cooed, but the baby did what it knew best. It cried.

She heard the door to the room open and slam against the chest she had placed there. The guards shouted their alarm.

“Hurry,” Dean called from above.

Mageia reclaimed her footing and quickened her ascension.

“Escapees!” a guard shouted from the room, peeking up the chute.

“Mageia, come on!” Dean shouted.

“They’re on the roof!” someone bellowed.

Mageia climbed faster, ears ringing with the guards’ shouting, the baby’s crying, and her heart’s drumming. As she passed the fifth-floor door, it flung open, and a hand gripped her right ankle and yanked her down with surprising strength. She held on tight as she and the baby dangled for a minute. She kicked at the guard, who jerked away just in time, but not fast enough not to notice her purple eyes.

“It’s the Purple Thief!” he shouted.

She quickly regained her footing and scurried the rest of the way to the top. Dean and Gavin helped her climb out just as a warning horn erupted through the night sky. Without wasting any time, they sprinted across the roof towards the gangway. Just as they reached the rail, an arrow swooshed past Dean’s head. They ducked but kept going. The soldier patrolling the Wall heard the warning bell and ran towards them with a bow in hand and a second arrow being strung.

“Come on!” Jaice shouted from the other side.

“Just go!” Gavin shouted. Jaice disappeared across the Wall. Gavin climbed up and quickly crossed the planks.

Dean took his chance and Mageia followed behind just as another arrow flew past her. She didn’t lose her balance and kept going until she dropped onto the Wall. The archer was closer now. They had to hurry.

They climbed the rest of the way down the Wall, the steep hill, and the drain, then shot off into the dark forest. Mageia clung to the baby with all her strength, despite her wailing into her face. She managed to get a couple of yards away from the Wall when something sharp seeped deep into her right shoulder. The impact of the arrow forced her off her feet, sending her crashing into the grass with the baby.

Mageia screamed in pain and stared in shock at the bloody arrow point staring back at her. Thankfully, the archer missed the baby by a few inches. Some of the feeling in her right arm grew numb, but the pain burned and stung along her spine and up her neck.

How did the archer see her clear enough in the dark to meet his target? She found out seconds later as another soldier with his own bow broke free of the brush.

“Stay down,” he ordered, cocking another arrow. Mageia gulped in pure shock and pain, realizing this was it. She’s been captured. But Dean leaped out from the darkness, sword in hand, and slashed at the soldier. He fumbled to reclaim his footing and defended himself with the strong part of his bow against Dean’s strength and quick strikes. Within seconds, Dean cut the man’s hands enough to drop his weapon. Then, with great skill, he slipped close to the soldier and budded him in the face with the hilt of his sword.

The man dropped to the ground unconscious, and the baby continued to cry.

“Geia!” He sheathed his sword and fell beside her. “Oh gods! Can yuh get up?”

She squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying and knew they were wasting time.

“Take the baby,” she said. Her best friend did so without hesitation.

Then, against her arm’s wishes, she climbed onto her feet. A wave of nausea struck her as she urged herself to keep moving. Warm blood trickled down her blouse, and the only thing she could think of was not to faint. Shouts of soldiers and guards echoed from the trees behind them. They were gaining on them. Vicious barking brought a deadly chill through her soul. Already she saw the tracking dogs catching them before the soldiers, especially at the pace she ran.

A great decision had to be made. Mageia lost sight of Dean and found herself smothered in the darkness of the Napan Forest. She couldn’t stop the tears leaking from her eyes, realizing what she had to do. Hoping her friend wouldn’t notice, she stopped to lean on a tree to catch her breath, heart thumping so fast she thought it could burst any minute.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” She had to give them more time to escape.

Clenching her teeth, she rubbed off a glob of blood from the wound and smeared it on the trees. Then she took off westward, using her good hand to knock hanging tree limbs out of the way and hopefully smearing blood everywhere. Not long after, the tracking dogs took the bait and followed her. She cursed, trying to figure out what to do now. A headache formed in the back of her head, and her breathing grew into pants despite the pump of adrenaline in her veins. Black splotches appeared in her vision, but she shook some of them away.

“We’re gaining on them,” someone shouted.

She picked up her pace. Any minute she would come face to face with the river. Crossing it may take the dogs off her trail, but swimming would be hard with one arm. Plus, she couldn’t swim. The gushing music of the river grew louder ahead, telling her a decision had to be made now; and fast. She broke free into a grassy clearing and didn’t expect the ground beneath her feet to disappear.

She screamed as gravity released her to a hard-rocky incline. Losing complete control of her momentum, she rolled and slid and crashed into unknown things. A bone cracked here and there, and new wounds opened in unwanted places. It felt like the fall went on forever until, finally, her body came to a sudden halt.

Her lungs heaved for the air knocked out of them, forcing Mageia to lie perfectly still. Every inch of her body was on fire. She blacked out for a second or two and only wanted to scream her anger and frustration. Her family flickered across her mind. The sweet laughter of the children echoed in her ringing ears. The freedom she had lived in the past eight years urged her to get up and keep moving. The area she had entered sat exposed to the beautiful light of the moon, so bright even the gods could probably see her. The river just ahead glistened and chorused loud into the Ardanian night.

Freedom sat a few footsteps away. She only had to get to it by slipping into the water and staying under long enough to lose her trackers. Hands burning against the stones, she fought the new pains joining the one in her shoulder and climbed onto her feet. Barking arose within the music of the river, but it came from above where she had fallen. She gave a bloody, mischievous grin and knew it would possibly take her pursuers some time to descend.

Eyes focused on the water, she limped towards it. She placed a hand over the first wound where the arrow had broken in both places, leaving its midsection impaled. The cool water would most likely make everything sting, but it sounded better than being caught.

Then a searing pain shot through her left leg. The impact was almost like one of the children in her family grabbing for the leg to keep her from leaving. Stunned, she fell back to the ground, face first into soft sand. She shifted to inspect her burning leg and burst into tears. A new arrow had penetrated it. Blood gushed from the wound into a puddle. She broke into a whimper of grief and frustration.

Freedom was just a few sandy steps away.


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