I still had time.
When my head whipped to the front again, I nearly screamed as a group appeared from a side-street up ahead, so close they could have reached out and grabbed me. The need to survive sharpened my instincts, and I skidded to a stop, glancing at the soldiers, the narrow gap between the houses that lined this row, and the sharp garden fence to my immediate left.
“Stop running!” one of them shouted when he spotted me, yanking on his companion to stop. He drew a whip from his waist and whirled in my direction.
Without hesitation, I sprinted in the direction of the fence. The crack snapped an inch from my ear, and I drew on every ounce of strength I possessed to clear the jagged points set into the mud-bricks. A crate allowed me to vault myself upward, and my hands caught on the lip of the pergola that jutted against the wall.
“Fuck!” I grunted when something sharp sliced into my calf. Warm blood trickled down, pooling in my shoe. As if I wasn’t already injured enough.
Footsteps pounded closer, and gritting my teeth, I launched myself forward, landing among a small patch of summer squash. I cringed, a moment of guilt sweeping through me as I crushed and bloodied their food. But my life was worth more than vegetables that could so easily be bought, if I had to judge from the size and construction of this house.
Pain shot up my leg as I pushed myself to run again, though it was something between that and a rapid hobble as I clung to the smooth side of the home. The street out front was blissfully empty, and after double checking that the other soldiers hadn’t cleared the garden wall yet, I raced forward, ducking into another alley behind the next row of houses.
My chest heaved from the effort, and as one street, then another flew by, I was certain I had escaped them. Careening onto one of the main thoroughfares close to the estate, gruff males’ voices rang out to my left.
I froze, heart thundering. When another shout sounded, ice skittered down my spine. They were nearly upon my location, hidden between the long, narrow houses. Scanning the buildings across the street, I noticed one whose entry door hung crooked and slightly ajar. The garden around it was overgrown and filled with weeds—another abandoned home. I needed to get closer to the estate, for that was my only true hope of escape, and I needed to reach it before Vagach.
Giver, you offered me this gift for a reason. Show me that it wasn’t all for nothing.
As my eyes opened again, they snagged on a single white rose peeking through the overgrowth. Too stunned to think of my prayer being answered, I sprinted toward it, through the tangled plants, and to the damaged door, shoving it open just enough to slip inside. Carefully, I closed it, hoping the soldiers hadn’t heard the scrape of wood on stone.
Back against the wall, I slid to my bottom, trying to catch my breath as quietly as possible. Not only did I want to remain undiscovered, but I also needed to hear if they drew closer. Glancing around the small, two room home, I searched for a second exit. Thankfully, across the house, another door waited, leading to the back garden.
“There’s blood on the ground. This way!” The order was clear and crisp despite the wall separating me from the road.
No, no, no, no, no.
Pressing my lips together, I swallowed the cry that wanted to escape, holding my breath and waiting to see if the soldiers would try to enter the house or search the overgrowth first.
Footsteps pounded against the stone street, the sound softening as they approached. “There’s more here,” one of them said.
Carefully, I turned to my knees, lifting the dirty, dusty curtain a hair to the side so I could peer out the window. A group of ten males fanned out around the home, one with garnet-colored eyes watching them closely as they crushed the plants beneath their feet. With shaking hands, I dropped the fabric, then slowly crawled away from the window and toward the rear door.
If I could reach it before they did…
With grim determination, I got to my feet, then peeked outside. The area around the back was blissfully empty, and judging by the thick, thorny bushes sticking out from either side of the house, it wouldn’t be full anytime soon. I listened for the telltale sounds of cursing and snapping branches, just to be safe.
One I was certain I was in the clear, I shoved open the door and slipped into the garden. The overgrowth hid me until I hopped the fence into an alley. Taking a quick glance in both directions, I raced down it and toward the dilapidated wood building that marked my entry and exit point from the estate.
A bird squawked to my right, making me jump and curse, hand flying to cover my heart. Three crows perched on the edge of a roof, peering down at me with a judgmental air. I narrowed my eyes at them, and the one in the middle cocked its head at me. Sweat poured from my temples and down my spine, though a chill swept through me under the crow’s perusal.
Shaking my head, I continued on my way, leaving thoughts of the birds and the soldiers behind. As I rounded the last corner, I paused to survey the area.
All clear.
Then I sprinted across the road and past the abandoned house. I didn’t bother to wipe my face before covering it and pushing through the wild, thorny bushes.
Clearing them, I darted toward the house, the ivy tickling me as I hugged the side of it until I rested at the corner. With all the slowness I could muster, I peeked around it, not finding Olrus in the vicinity. My secret was still safe, and Vagach hadn’t returned home yet. Picking my way through the plants that ringed the base of the house, I made my way to the window and leaped for the sill of it, assisted by the height of the form I was wearing.
Pulling myself up and into the room without a sound was a different challenge entirely.
Why didn’t I make this form a male with shoulders built from farm work?
Cursing, I managed to flatten my stomach against the windowsill and pulled myself the rest of the way into the room. With a thud, I landed on the floor beside the woven prayer rug, and then I flopped to my back, sucking down much needed air.
Come on, Assyria, keep moving.
After my chase through the streets of Stryi, I didn’t have time to waste if I were to beat Vagach home. My body begged for relief as I pushed upright, swaying slightly as I stood. Gray dots danced in my vision, and I braced a hand on the wall as I waited for the world to stop spinning. At least the cut on my leg was already beginning to heal. Apparently, I could bleed in this form, but that was something to examine at a later date.
When I finally had my bearings, I simultaneously released my magic and stripped out of the male’s clothes. Wiping my face with a clean part of the tunic, I tried to make myself more presentable before tossing both the tunic and pants into a dark corner. Ignoring the protest in my ribs and shoulders, I yanked the dress over my head, smoothing the skirt when I was finished. The veil clouded my vision a moment later.
It was like I’d been in this room saying my prayers and making an offering to the Fates this whole time. To ensure Vagach would see my piety when he checked later, I grasped the knife that rested beside the small bowl and lifted it to my thumb. Without the usual pause to coerce myself into doing it, I sliced my skin, letting blood drain from my body into the bowl, then traced a line of blood down my face for good measure.
Satisfied that I’d spent enough time in here, I rolled up the tunic and pants and then stuffed them in between a stack of woven blankets, knowing I’d have to mend and clean them sooner rather than later. The boots were hidden behind them.
The knife also needed to be washed, but that was less suspicious than Vagach’s clothes. Trekking back to the kitchen, I intended to return to the copse of trees and thank Orlus for his help and tell him what I had learned. I hoped that he wouldn’t have to go to war; he was far too old and far too important to me. My thoughts were consumed with worry for my friend, so much so that I wasn’t paying attention when I turned the corner and entered the kitchen.
