21. Chapter Twenty One

Stars glitter like diamonds in a velvet sky, greeting me as Nero shoves open the heavy iron door at the top of the stairs. He turns around and gives me a hand, pulling me out of the crypt and closing the door with a resounding thud behind me. We stand on a crest outside of the castle walls. The bitter winter air burns my lungs, the sensation imprinted on me as the taste of freedom. . From our distance, I can hardly discern the twinkling lights through the castle windows. Have we really come this far underground in such a short time?

"This is where I must leave ye." Nero unclasps the cloak from around his neck, then removes my healing satchel from his back. "Head north and then east. The rebels have a safe house about fifteen miles into the woods. I sent them word that I'd be freeing ye and sending ye their way. I need to return before I rouse suspicion on myself, but I will be in touch."

I stand still as I look out into the depths of the trees, searching for secrets and answers hidden within the foliage. After all the pain and sorrow I have endured, it is difficult to let the doubts stop clawing at my determination to let go and jump into the action. Am I truly free or will this last act lead me to my ultimate death? A gentle breeze caresses my cheek like the touch of a lover. Closing my eyes, I send a silent prayer to the Goddess, begging her to give me the strength to survive this.

"I know our first encounter wasn't on the best of terms, but I am yer ally, Sybil. Ye can do this. Together, we can stop this madness," Nero murmurs quietly, as if he understands my doubt and turmoil.

I watch his face, his short, dark hair blown back by the wind, but it remains solemn; honest as an open book. "Northwest? That's not very specific," I say. My lips pull down into a frown.

"Just look for the thorns." He hands me the empty flask. Just as I take it, the male is already moving away as his silhouette fades into the blackness of night. Without so much as a farewell, he heads back towards the looming castle.

Taking that first step, all alone in the woods, feels like the beginning of a new life.

The faces of the children locked in their cell, fighting over gruel, resurface in my mind. The icy winter chill can't cool the fire that is building inside me. I can't let Tricella take any more of my people.

With renewed determination, I glance up at the night sky. Noting Nordfeu, the northern star, I tuck the flask into my satchel and ensure I safely tuck Lemon into my overskirt pocket as I quicken my pace ready to join the rebels.

***

Leaning wearily against the rough bark of a pine tree, I inhale deeply. Cicada chirps fill the air with a melodic hum contrasting the stillness of the night. Hours have passed since I left Nero at the edge of the forest. My stomach lets out an audible rumble. It has been even longer since my last meal.

I stare up at the night sky, trying to orient my direction by the stars. The tips of my fingers and toes have long gone numb from the frosty air but I have to keep going and put as much distance between me and the castle as I can. Teeth chattering, I blow air on my fingers before rubbing my palms together. How much longer until I reach the rebel's camp?

"Hopefully they'll have hot food available," I say, and the thought of food makes my stomach twist into painful knots. I lick my lips, dry and cracking from the icy wind.

Why did that fool waste the entire flask of water to wake me? Clearly, he didn't think about the possibility of me dying without food or water.

"I'd even be happy with a loaf of soft bread and cheese," I mutter to Lemon. Exhaling, my breath materializes in misty puffs; a visible reminder of the winter's grasp. I yearn for a hot cup of tea to warm my hands. Oh, how happy I would be with just these simple pleasures.

Lemon shivers in my pocket, despite his thick fur coat. He licks the tip of my fingers as I stroke the top of his head, letting out a mixture of content noises. I pull him out and gently kiss the tip of his nose. Cocking his head to the side, he wriggles in my grasp, swinging his head from side to side as he stares at the trees around us.

"Oh, how I wish you could talk some days. I could use–"

A great splinting rents the air as I step onto a large fallen log. The wood disintegrates below me and I lose my balance, stumbling through the snow and crashing hard into a giant tree. As my body collides into the hard, frozen bark, I step on something uneven, my ankle rolling with a crack as my knee gives out to take the weight off. Landing ungracefully, I collapse into an awkward heap on the ground.

"Fuck!" Black dots swarm in my vision, making it difficult to see. Every inch of my body aches and throbs with pain. I push myself into a sitting position, wincing as the gravel and ice bite into the bare palms of my hand.

"Lemon!" I cry out. My heart races with adrenaline and pain, holding my leg up as a sigh of relief leaves me when I see him poke his sweet head out of the snow pile he landed in. He scampers over to my side and I scoop him up, my hands shaking. "You're okay," I mumble as tears sting my eyes. My jaw trembles from the agony as I bury my face into his fur.

For a brief moment, pure terror grips my heart as I openly cry, the tears leaving icy streaks on my face. I'm alone and lost in the woods. Settling him in my lap, I perceive the devastation of my ankle before even looking at it Groaning; I try to set my leg down on the ground to rest it while wiping at my nose, doing everything I can to slow the tears. To my shock, I seem to have more stability than I thought.

I summon the strength to rise, leaning on the rough bark and taking care not to let my foot touch the snow until I'm ready. Lemon clings to my shoulders as I wince, trying to gauge how much weight I can put on it. My ankle throbs but there's people waiting on me, and I dig deep into that motivation to think this one through.

"Okay. Okay, I can put some weight on it. Maybe… maybe I can make a swift splint." Lemon climbs down my arm and nudges at my family's crest ring on my hand. Not a single scratch marks its surface from my fall.

"It's a miracle I haven't lost it." Sniffling, I wipe my running nose on the edge of my cloak but he keeps nudging my hand persistently.

"I don't know what you want, boy. I don't have any food. I'm sorry." Sighing, I lift my gaze to the sky to pray for guidance. Even if I can make a splint, walking in this snow is clearly not reliable. I can't see if there's anything underneath, and even if I can put weight on my ankle, it's not sturdy–my eyes widen as I notice a small etching in the bark. At first glance, it looks as though it's part of the wood grain, but as I hobble closer, the image becomes more discernible.

A small vine with delicate thorns.

"Thorns!" I glance from trunk to trunk, now seeing what I hadn't before.

A sky of thorns surrounds me, etched high on the trees.

This is it. I have to keep going.

I take a deep breath and tentatively reach into the well of my magic. The weight of exhaustion pulls at my limbs. My muscles scream in protest with each movement, and my head throbs with a dull ache that seems to permeate my entire being. But despite it all, I press on, driven by a fierce determination that refuses to let me give up. This has to work. I need this to work. Images of the queen's hands on my body, draining me of my magic, flash in front of my eyes and ignite my anger. The tingly sensation of magic dances along my fingertips. It is so close I can taste it. Breathe, Sybil. I try to relax my throbbing muscles and embrace my power.

"Alright, maybe instead of a splint, I can try shifting."

Heat envelopes my body as it twists and transforms. Hooves replacing hands and feet. A spiraled pearl horn elongating from my forelock. I toss my head, my long white hair whipping at the motion. My eyesight clarifies as my ears twitch, ready to detect sound. My mother's satchel transforms to fit my equestrian form comfortably, without adjustment. Leaning down, I gingerly touch my horn to my injured foot, feeling the magic securely wrap around as the bone knits back together. I forgot how much stronger my magic is in this form, and how quickly mending breaks deplete it. I won't be able to maintain this form for long.

Casting my eyes to the etched thorns, I mark my path before lowering my head to the ground. Lemon quickly scampers up my neck and tucks himself in one of the satchel's empty pockets. I've never felt more grateful for my mother's wit for having it spelled to change form to accommodate our shifting. I take off on a slow walk. The pain in my left rear hoof recedes to a dull ache. Unsure of how long I'll be able to hold my remaining magic to keep this form, I push on.

***

The sky is painted in a rich shade of purple, reminiscent of a bruised plum, indicating that the first light of dawn is on the horizon. Faint chirping of birds rises as they prepare for a new day. The forest no longer feels like an enemy out to catch me but has rather embraced me in this new form. With each powerful stride, the ancient trees blur into a backdrop as I gallop through, the cool and crisp air carrying the promise of hope. I am on the right path, but how much further do I have to go?

The snap of a twig behind me sets me on edge, ears twitching and scenting the air full of winter berries.

What was that?

I proceed with cautious steps, the rustling of leaves and the crunch of snow under my hooves echoes through the trees. As I scan the area, the wind shifts, carrying a pungent odor of musky fur that permeates my nostrils. I pause, my heart pounding in my chest, and my eyes dart around, searching for the source of the smell.

A beast.

I take off at a gallop, pushing myself as hard as I can go, ignoring the throbbing pain in my back half with each step. The sound of paws pounding the ground behind me fuels my determination to get away. Weaving in between trees, I no longer care what direction I am going. My magic is waning as fast as my energy, but I am not about to let a monster devour me just as I have escaped from another one.

I realize too late that the trees are thinning and I see a drop off approaching. I dig my hooves into the ground but lose my footing in the forest mulch hidden beneath the snow. Sliding to the edge, the control of my magic slips and I shift back into my human form, plummeting off the edge. As I'm hurled down the steep muddy slope I curl into a ball and land on my back at the bottom of the ravine, my satchel cushions my fall with a splash and crunch of glass.

Above me, on the edge of the ravine, stands the largest wolf I have ever seen.