14. Sloane

Chapter 14

Sloane

The moons cast long shadows across the opulent guest suite, telling me that it's almost time for the shift change. I can't wait to ditch this gilded prison. Although, if I'm being honest, I'm a little sad that I didn't get to know Dexari a little better.

It's been a while since I had sex. A long while. If we had met under different circumstances, I might have jumped his bones.

Earlier, I put my dirty cargo pants and tank top on underneath the ridiculous bathrobe. They don't smell great, but will give me better mobility once I discard the robe. I've stashed the pocket knife in one of the cargo pockets, and strips of the chemise I was wearing in another. The strips can be used as bandages if I get hurt.

Hiding the grappling hook wasn't as easy, since it's kind of bulky. I tied it to one of my belt loops and let it hang down the side of my thigh, where it's mostly hidden by the fullness of the robe. Not ideal, but it'll have to do.

I wish I had sturdy boots to wear. The worthless slippers wouldn't last five minutes outside, and there's no way I can run in them. Barefoot it is, then. My calloused feet will be fine. And if I step on a nail or something? Well, that'll just be one more adventure to add to my list.

Time to listen for the guard's call to Command. I press my ear against the door, waiting for my signal to get moving. That's when I hear hurried footsteps.

"There is a fire in the kitchen," someone shouts. "All guards are to report immediately."

"I cannot leave the prisoner," the guard outside my door argues.

"You can and you will. If we do not get the fire under control, there will be no prisoner to guard. Hurry!"

My guard is being called away? This is so much better than a shift change. I can hardly believe my luck.

Reaching under the robe, I retrieve my pocket knife and select the tentacle gadget. I insert the wiggling appendage into the door lock and hold my breath. After a few agonizing seconds, I hear it—the soft click of the lock disengaging.

Relief makes me giddy, but I'm not free yet. I retract the tentacle tool and grip my pocket knife in my hand, hoping I don't have to use it again. I ease the door open and slip out, closing it behind me to avoid raising suspicion.

The glass elevator would be a faster way to the ground floor, but it's too exposed. So, I opt for the stairs instead, my bare feet silent against the cool stone. The palace is oddly quiet, but I'm not complaining. The fire has made my escape almost too easy.

When I exit the palace, I wind my way through the garden Denari took me to earlier. It looks different at night, shadowy and mysterious, the manicured hedges and plants forming a dark maze

I reach the fruit trees and use the multi-tool map function to find the quickest route to the kingdom's outer wall. Looks like I'll need to go partway through the village before heading west.

In the middle of the night, the village is like a ghost town. There's not a soul around, and even the taverns are closed. Although the entire kingdom seems to be asleep, I still stick to the shadows. And I don't let my guard down.

My eyes constantly scan for any sign of movement, my ears straining for the slightest sound. The perimeter wall is my goal, my ticket to freedom. And I'm getting closer with every step.

I can't believe I've made it this far without seeing a single orc, although it's not time to celebrate yet. Not until I'm over the wall and deep into the forest.

When I finally reach the wall, I scan the towering stone structure in search of guards. Although I don't spot any nearby, my heart sinks at the height of the barrier that stands between me and my freedom. It's much higher than I expected.

No time for doubts now. I remove the orc robe, slip my knife back into my pocket, and retrieve the grappling hook from my belt loop. Then, I pull a substantial length of rope free from the case, take a deep breath, and swing the hook, aiming for the top of the wall.

The hook sails through the air...and hits the middle of the wall before clattering back down to the ground.

Shit. Not even close.

I back away, and try again, throwing the hook like a baseball. This time, it reaches the top of the wall, catching briefly before slipping off.

Damn.

Frustration gnaws at me. I'm running out of time before a guard comes by or someone spots me. But panicking won't help; I need to focus.

It takes three more throws before the hook finally catches and holds. I give the rope a few hard tugs to make sure its secure before I grip it in both hands and start the brutal climb.

And it is brutal .

The rope cuts into my palms, and the stone wall feels rough against my bare feet. Every muscle in my body screams in protest as I pull myself up, inch by agonizing inch. Even when my arms are shaking so bad I have trouble moving them, I keep going.

Pain is temporary. Freedom is forever.

I don't look down and try not to think about how high I've climbed or how far I still have to go. Instead, I focus on each movement. Hand over hand. Foot after foot.

Keep climbing, Sloane.

Sweat drips into my eyes, and my muscles feel like they're on fire. But I can see the top of the wall now. It's so close. Just a little farther...

With one final heave, I pull myself onto the top of the wall, straddling it while gasping for breath. The view is pretty expansive up here. On one side is the sleepy kingdom, quaint and cozy. On the other is the dark forest, wild and dangerous. Even the light from the moons doesn't do much to illuminate it.

Time for the descent.

I reposition the grappling hook, roll onto my belly, and swing my legs over the side of the wall. When my feet find purchase, I grip the rope and begin lowering myself down the wall.

It's slower going down than climbing up—the rope hurts my hands, I can't see where to put my feet, and I'm constantly searching for footholds. When I finally spot the ground, relief floods through me. Not too far now. Just a few more—

My foot slips, and suddenly I'm falling, the rope burning as it slides through my grasp. I hit the ground hard, pain shooting up from my ankle. I bite back a cry, clenching my teeth so hard I'm surprised nothing cracks.

I lie there, waiting for the pain to subside. When it does, I gingerly test my ankle. It hurts like hell, but I can move it. Not broken, then. Just a bad sprain. I've lived through worse injuries.

Pushing myself to my feet, I wince when putting weight on my injury. I can walk, sort of. Okay, it's more like hobbling. But it'll get me away from the kingdom.

The forest looms before me, dark and intimidating. I retrieve the pocket knife and limp into the shadows. The wall behind me fades as I move deeper into the forest, and I use the multi-tool flashlight to find my way.

There's no doubt in my mind that danger lies ahead. But for the first time in years, I feel something I never thought I'd feel again: hope.

A small smile tugs at my lips. I'm free, and I'm never going back.