FINALLY finished this chapter! Woo! Aren't y'all so proud? Thanks to all you guys for reviewing, and encouraging me to continue.
Lyrics © Sarah McLachlan, from the song "Possession."Into this night I wander; it's morning that I dread;
Another day not knowing of the path I fear to tread...
Chapter Three—Dread the Dawn
Almost there, she thought to herself as she drew closer and closer to her objective. She tried to ignore the stinging in her elbow, where a few glass shards were still imbedded. Finally, with about six feet left, she gathered herself, and leapt, landing in a crouch. Moments passed, and she managed to make herself rise to her feet, trembling like an autumn leaf in the breeze. She took a few steps towards the moat—for she was sure now that it was a moat—and stopped at its edge. She stubbornly ignored the rest of her surroundings, staring resolutely at the brackish, foul water…
She ran.
Even when there was nothing there, she ran. Naught but memories and a nameless fear plagued her steps.
Still, she advanced, the world around her nothing but a long, pale blur of road underneath and ahead of her. The road went on forever, the hard stones jarring her with every pounding step. Then, without warning, the world was a brown and green smear that receded as she flew into the unknown. The fear beat at her, threatening to evolve into panic, seeking to smother her in its consuming despair. Hair, dark and wild, whipped untamed about a tear- and grime-streaked face, lashing, stinging her eyes. Brambles and overhanging branches pulled at her, trying with all their inanimate might to trip her, to drag her down. But the girl ignored them. Ignored the throbbing, stinging pain that threatened to overwhelm her senses. Her chest ached. Her throat was raw and smarting. Her legs—she didn't want to think about her legs. They burned.
Through a gap in the trees, she spied an opening, a clearing of some sort. She pressed on, feeling the desperate need for air as she picked up the pace. Just a little farther, she told herself, an encouraging mantra that she kept reiterating in her head the entire way to the gap. The terror continued to flash through her, that nameless dread of the unfamiliar, and when she took the first few steps into the clearing, she let it explode.
She felt herself collapse to the leave-strewn ground, and for the next few minutes, or days—did matter? She didn't think so—felt nothing, save the agony of trying to regain her breath while her whole body racked with sobs. She sprawled out across the ground, her head buried in her arms, drenching the earth with burning, brackish tears. She was no longer aware of her raw, aching limbs, or of the time that passed while she poured out her frustrations and uncertainties.
Earlier...
The crash resounded through the passageway where they walked, and then a tinkling of breaking glass could be heard. The group froze.
"What was that?" Virginia queried uneasily, and they all looked at one another. Then back down the corridor.
"That sounded as if it came from the Mirror Room…" The King began, but Tony was already moving quickly back down the hall, leaving the rest to stand, perplexed, in the middle of the corridor. He didn't turn around, but tossed a "go on, you guys; I won't be but a minute" over his shoulder as he strode back down the way they had come.
Virginia frowned a little, still looking puzzled. "Window washers not having a good day?" She quipped to Wendell; but her brow was furrowed, face set in a hesitant expression. Wendell made no reply; he looked just as baffled as she. With a 'stay here' gesture at the other two, he began to move back down the hallway after Tony.
In silent agreement, both Wolf and Virginia, baby in tow, followed him.
Before they managed to reach the other two, however, a cry could be heard from Anthony as they hurried down the hallway. Wolf shifted quickly in front of his wife and child, moving swiftly to the doorway. A bewildering sight greeted him as he peered in cautiously. He felt his eyes widen, and his mouth moved silently…Wendell and Anthony looked as if they were in the same state.
From behind him, Wolf heard Virginia protest at the obstruction that was his body. "What on earth is going on?" She demanded, shoving her way under Wolf's arm as she tried to get a better view. And stopping dead in her tracks, so terrible was the scene before her. "No…no, that's not…" Virginia squeezed her eyes shut, brow wrinkling as she was trying to fight off a headache. "That's not our mirror, is it?" She whispered in a shaky, disbelieving voice, eyes still closed. Wolf couldn't say anything; he simply put an arm around his wife's shoulders. He could feel a tremor pass through her as her eyes finally opened, and she haltingly moved out of her husband's embrace, to walk carefully over to where her father stood silently gawping at the shattered portal.
Their mirror, their gateway back to New York, back to home, was lying flat on the cold stone floor, completely obliterated. The millions of shards glittered back up them, throwing back wild parodies of their reflections. It looked as if something had fallen right on top of it. There was an especially bad spot towards the right side of the mirror, a deep, small hole that seemed to be the point of impact.
Several small shards were missing from the center of the most damaged area. Wendell and Wolf moved further into the room, and knelt next to the mirror. Wolf hesitantly brushed his fingers over the origin of the break, his face a dark study. Virginia stooped down beside him, staring mutely, lips trembling.
She finally spoke. Dragging in a breath, she stood and turned wrathfully on Wendell, who was still kneeling. "What. Happened." She demanded in a low, furious voice, biting out each word viciously. Her eyes were ablaze as the King finally stood and faced her, looking dazed.
"I…"
"Virginia…" Wolf also rose, and put a restraining hand on her arm. Squeezing gently, reassuringly, he told her, "Now, c'mon…you know Wendy wasn't here when it happened. Something…the wind…" He trailed off, not even convincing himself that it had been an accident. Throwing a helpless look at Tony, who still stood blinking at the destroyed mirror, Wolf tried to think of something. Anything. An explanation for this whole mess.
But for the life of him, he couldn't come up with a thing.
Virginia's face had crumpled, and she turned from Wendell to grasp at Wolf's arm. "Then how? How could this have happened? Who?" Her voice was rising shrilly; she looked on the verge of panic. Wolf felt as if he were going to be sick.
Wendell finally spoke. "'Who'…someone. Someone must have…" An incredulous expression dawned on his face, and he jerked around to face the group. "Someone followed you."
Tony seemed to come out from his daze. He gaped at Wendell. "The mirror! Who turned off the mirror!" He looked wildly at the other two. Both froze, and looked uneasily at each other.
"Did…"
"No! You mean you didn't…"
"I didn't!"
"…"
"Ohhh…huff puff!" Wolf yanked at his hair, whimpering. His eyes searched the room, glancing about wildly. He almost didn't register the curtains that were gaping open, just a few meters in front of him. Freezing, and then dashing forward in a panic, he grasped at the opened drapes. Stared at them a moment in silence, and then looked back up at the group that watched him edgily. He swallowed heavily, and turned again, this time to stare out the windows that the curtains should have covered. For the second time in five minutes, he was shocked speechless.
It was Wendell who finally broke the intense silence. "Then…then whoever came through…" He began to stride purposefully for the window, speaking as he went. "They must have escaped through the window."
Tony and Virginia stepped towards the other two. Wolf glanced uneasily at them, and then turned to give his Highness a cynical look. "Out this window?" He dropped the curtains and made a derisive gesture towards the offending casement. "Unless it was a troll or a mountain goat with a few extra digits, I don't think anyone would be climbing down from here."
They all looked out the window, and down at the ground, far, far below. Tony's eyebrows rose, and he swallowed uneasily. Moving closer with jerky movements, he undid the clasp, and placed his hands on the sill to hold him steady as he got a better look. "Or an Extreme Sports contender," he stated, not looking anywhere but at the walls of the tower. Virginia moved to his side to see the same thing he did: vines; thick, corded creepers that grew all along the walls, imbedding themselves into the very stone. Leaning down, she grasped at one, and tugged at it. The vine held.
Suddenly she jerked back up and whirled around to face the others. "That's how they got down!" She cried, waving at the vines behind her. "The ivy."
Wendell's face slackened. Then, just as rapidly, it set itself in determined lines. "Right." He nodded decisively to himself, and with a last look at them, he turned and strode out of the room determinedly. Tony followed, dashing after him to keep up, leaving husband and wife to each other.
Virginia looked at him, the reality of it all slowly sinking in. When she spoke, it was in a soft, breaking voice. "Even if they catch up to them…it isn't going to fix our mirror."
Wolf couldn't think of anything to say to that, so he simply held her.
Darkness fell.
She did not notice until she finally sat up, still shaking from fear and exhaustion. She squinted at her surroundings, eyes smarting from dried tears, and realized that instead of the sun giving off its golden warmth to light the forest around her, the moon sent down muted, icy beams from its orbit above her, casting everything in shimmering, subdued silver. She choked, shocked at the abrupt change of scenery. Waves of adrenaline crashed over her, fear spiking her veins as she scrambled to her feet.
A headache was threatening to bloom in her right temple, and she clutched absently at her head as she took in the small clearing that she had fallen in, weaving unsteadily on rubber legs. Blinking back a new rush of tears, she attempted to process what had happened.
She vaguely remembered the swim across the moat – she could still smell the grime and other products that inhabited it – and running through a bunch of shrubbery. Tiny crisscrossed scratches and aching muscles were testament to her marathon through the woods; she swiped a hand dazedly across her face, to have it come away with a dark, sticky substance smeared on her fingers. She blinked at it, squinting in the poor light. Sniffed it. Yes, it was indeed blood; though the smarting from the wounds was fading.
The fear was still there, but she was becoming steadier on her feet. She took an experimental few steps, and was pleased with the results. Taking a deep, shaky breath in through her nose, she started planning.
First things first. She needed to find shelter for the night. No way in Hell was she going to spend the entire night wandering around in a strange forest, a forest that shouldn't even be there. She could figure out where she was come morning, considering nothing ate her while she slept. She suppressed a shudder at this morbid thought; she was a city girl born and bred – she had no woodcraft to ensure her survival, out here in the wilderness.
And wilderness it was. She could see no city lights reflecting off the small array of clouds that hovered in the night sky; nor could she smell the usual grease and exhaust fumes that she had been so accustomed to that she didn't even notice it. She was quite literally out in the middle of nowhere.
With this happy thought to keep her company, she set to walking, in the exact opposite direction from which she had come. But had no way of knowing that; nor would she have cared, had she known. In the morning…when the morning comes, I'll figure it all out…I can fix everything in the morning.
But it would take much longer than that before she would be able to rectify anything. Little did she know it, but the path she had chosen would prove to be the longest, and most trying. Her journey had just begun.
Gregory stood in the office of the Governor, looking apprehensive and feeling much more so. He was here to report the success of his task, but there was no one in the room to report to.
The Governor had always set him on edge; he had a quiet, congenial air the majority of the time…but it was the other times that had his underlings doing their duties with a passionate, almost fanatic fervor, striving to appease their raging Master. He may not have been in residence at the moment—he had recently taken to organizing a hearing that was scheduled for tomorrow morning in the nearest town—but the very air of the room seemed to cull the man's presence, soaking it up like a sponge and releasing it upon the head of any who entered the room. In this case, Gregory's head.
The big man shifted uneasily, waiting for the Governor's Second to arrive. Not that the man was that apart from his superior in character; indeed, he was the Governor's cousin and intended heir to his estates. Both were easily likeable men; congenial and witty, stern and uncompromising in their beliefs. Those were just a few of the reasons King Wendell has chosen them as replacements for the last Governor, Lord Gareth, who had the misfortune to be unaware of not one, not two, but five escape attempts until it was too late, all in the space of two days. After Wendell had finally been anointed King, he had decided to make a few changes to the system, new blood being one of them. A few new judges and Governors for the prisons, a more lenient, fair system for the people, especially wolves, were put into motion by the young King. But he had yet to discover just how mistaken he had been in appointing Duke Kristoff and his young cousin, Sir Everard.
More than one guard had learned quickly to get onto the new Governor's good side, lest they be one more victim for the creature the two nobles had brought with them when Wendell first selected them for the Prison. The prisoners, it seemed, were a little slower to learn. The weekly screaming sessions still had yet to sink in. They hadn't seen what the guard had. And if there were smart about it, they would never have to. Gregory, though pleased with his new position as the Head Guard and next in position to the Second, Sir Everard, still cringed at the thought of his…extra duties. Feeding the Beast was one of them. He vowed never to cross the Governor, if he could help it. Do what you're told and keep your head down, that's what he told himself.
The guard just managed not to start when his thoughts were interrupted by the heavy door opening, creaking on its metal hinges, as the Second entered the room. Young Sir Everard stepped in, and Gregory tensed, snapping to attention. The Second raised dark brows calmly as he shut the door firmly behind him. "Is it done as I requested?" He had a mild voice, to match a serene expression. He was always the more laid-back, if you could call it that, of the two nobles. But Gregory still knew better. Beneath that calm veneer lay a sharp, cunning mind and a stinging wit that he employed when the whim hit him. Not to mention the disturbing sense of humor that left guards and prisoners alike blanching in his wake.
Gregory swallowed once before answering in his normal blunt tones. "Yessir, my lord. Falkirk has been punished, as ordered." He managed to speak over his accent when in either the Governor's or the Second's company; it made him feel a little more on equal ground. He stood straight at attention as he spoke, locking eyes with Sir Everard. Mild blue eyes met his as the other man moved to the Governor's desk, stirring papers idly with his fingers as he stepped behind the furniture to take a seat. Everard smiled, just a little, nodding in approval. Gregory let loose a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Is there anything else Milord needs? I'm due back at Block Twelve for the evening rounds."
Everard smiled his cool little smile again, motioning towards the door. "That will be all, Gregory. Thank you for doing your duty. The screaming was excellent today." With that last casual remark, he turned to the chores list for the day in the big leather book before him.
It was remarks like this that made Gregory more than pleased to be in Block Twelve. It was the cell block furthest away from the Governor's office. Jerking his head in quick acknowledgement, he left as swiftly as was deemed courteous. He didn't want to be there one instant longer.
TBC. Sorry, there really wasn't too much to add to this chapter; just the finishing touch on the final scene, plus some extra 'fo I threw in for y'all to chew on. Getting a little more of the picture?
