Into the Shadows by Linda K. Hopkins

Author:Linda K. Hopkins [Hopkins, Linda K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Linda K. Hopkins
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

It started raining that afternoon, a heavy downpour that soon had Lark drenched. Water sloshed in her boots while her cloak hung soddenly around her ankles. Despite her escape attempt the Drameara had not retied her wrists, and she pulled her cloak tight around her chest, trying to preserve the little warmth she had. After all the time spent longing for the cuffs to be gone, it felt strange to no longer be wearing them. The skin where the cuffs had been was red and irritated, and streaks of dirt had marred the pale whiteness until the rain washed them away.

The Drameara marched a few yards ahead of her, seemingly unconcerned by the downpour that made Lark so miserable. The wind gusted around her, whipping her wet hair across her face and cutting through her clothes. She looked longingly at the trees they passed, but he strode by them, his booted feet churning up the mud which sent splatters onto her legs. She slowed her pace, but somehow the mud from his boots just flew further. She frowned, glaring at his back. She had no idea how, but she was certain that he was deliberately making her life as miserable as possible.

Darkness fell, earlier than usual because of the heavy clouds, and still he walked as she stumbled behind him in the mud. Her legs were aching from weariness when she slipped in the mire, falling to her knees. She sat there a moment, watching his back growing more distant, then with great effort lifted one knee and slowly rose. Her legs were caked with mud, but she did not have the energy to care. The Drameara had disappeared again in the rain, but she knew another escape attempt was useless. She was more likely to drown in the mud than get away. She lifted one foot and then the other, and began a slow pace along the path, her eyes on the ground as she walked. She could see the tracks the Drameara had made and she followed these, counting as she did so. One, two, three … When she reached ten, she started again. The tracks disappeared, but still she kept walking. One, two, three…

“Are you going to keep walking all night?”

Lark stopped and turned wearily around at the sound of the Drameara’s voice. He was seated beneath a rocky outcrop a few yards back from the path, leaning over a small pile of sticks. She was too exhausted to do more than glare at him as she stumbled back to the sheltering rock. He had already managed to gather a small pile of kindling, which amazingly was dry, and sparks flew from his tinder box as he started a small blaze. She dropped to the ground, and leaning against the rock, she brought her legs to her chest and hugged herself. The Drameara watched her for a moment, then reached for his bag and pulled out an article of clothing which he tossed to her.

“What’s this?”

“Something a bit drier.

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