The rain was so heavy that Zaria couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of her. When the lightning flashed, that distance increased significantly, so she hugged the side of the building and hurried around to the back before cutting across the estate toward the back wall. There weren't many reasons to trust anyone who worked for Duke Berber. Before being confined to his room, she spoke to other maids and servants who had nothing but good things to say about their liege. Whether or not they knew what was happening was unimportant. They would be more likely to alert the duke than to help her.
The leaning tree was where Matron Teague said it would be. Zaria frowned and put the stun gun in the messenger bag, then attached the sword belt around her waist so that she could have both hands free to try and scale the slick trunk. It took far too long, but with a large amount of low hanging branches to pull herself upward she was able to get to the top of the wall and lower herself down the other side, hanging by her fingertips for a second and then letting go to fall the last meter to the ground. There were no cries of alarm or any noise at all that she could hear over the sound of the rain on the leaves overhead.
She didn't bother to get the stun gun back out of the bag as she began to run. A weapon that used electricity plus rain suddenly seemed like a very bad idea. The sword smacked against her leg as she ran full speed, dodging trees and jumping over fallen branches. Its tip caught on scrub growing on the ground underneath the trees, slowing her considerably.
After running for as long as she could, her chest heaving with the effort, she stopped and leaned against a massive trunk to catch her breath. The sword was bothering her, the belt too big to hang around her waist correctly and constantly needing to be held up. She took a few minutes while resting to remove her backpack and wrapped the sword belt around the bag instead, catching it in the tent straps so it wouldn't slip down. When she began to run again, it smacked against her backside, but it was a far better position than before.
Through the trees in the distance, she could make out an unnaturally straight gap, so she ran toward it. A well maintained roadway stretched far to the right, but to the left, it curved gradually back toward the way that she came. Zaria had no idea if it led back to the estate or even if the estate was really in that direction. Dodging and weaving as she ran, she couldn't be sure that she had run in as straight of a line as she thought she had. She knew that she hadn't seen a road, though, so she crossed the one before her and continued on in the direction that felt right.
Terror fueled her flight through the woods that night. The best outcome was that the guard wouldn't be discovered until the Duke arrived back at the bedroom the next evening. As she made her way across a shallow but fast-moving creek, she began to think of all the things that could go wrong. Even if the guard didn't figure out a way to free himself sooner, what about when lunch was delivered and he wasn't seen standing in the hall? Would the servant open the door to put the tray inside? What if the duke went back to his bedroom before going to do his work? No, even if he just looked down the hallway, wouldn't he see that the guard was missing? She stopped in the middle of the stream, staring down at the water rushing past her ankles.
"I have to move smarter," she thought to herself, looking upstream. The swift water would slow down her steps, but her footprints would not be visible. She turned and started walking through the water, carefully putting each foot down, but moving as fast as she could.
The storm lessened, and the sky began to lighten, but she stayed in the creek, following it as it curved and cut through the trees. When she reached a large rock pile against a steep bank she stepped out of the water, using the rocks and heavy boughs to pull herself up onto solid ground again without clawing in the mud along the sides. Then she took a deep breath and began to run.
When her legs were so tired that she was stumbling more than she was walking, Zaria stopped to rest again. She sneaked a look at her phone from beneath the poncho. She had been on the run for almost twelve hours with only a short break near the beginning. Moving much more slowly, she kept going. She needed more distance between herself and the manor.
The rain began to get heavy again, thunder rolling in the distance, and she decided that it would be as good a time as any to make camp. Perhaps if the storm was heavy enough, it would wash away some of her tracks and make it harder to see her tent. Once it was set up, she all but fell inside, her fingers numb and fumbling at the zipper to close it.
The poncho went in a heap at the door along with her boots, which were not so dry on the inside after her prolonged slog through the creek during the early hours of the morning. She set them upside down so the water could drip out. The pants, though very wet, stayed on. If she had, she would run out of the tent barefoot, but she would not do so half naked. It might be a psychological comfort, but it was all that she had.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Zaria slept fitfully, her mind used to the sound of thunder and the crack of lightning since the rain never ceased, but with every crack of a branch breaking or the steps of an animal dashing toward it's home, her eyes snapped open and she bolted upright, knife in hand. This went on for several hours, sleep coming in fifteen minute increments or less. What little sleep that she got plus the sugar rush of a granola bar got her on her feet once more, and then after a hurried breaking down of camp, she was on her way again.
Several days passed as she kept moving in what she hoped was a direction away and out of the Berber Duchy. She didn't bother to check her phone to see how long it had been. When her legs were too tired to make it across another creek, or her arms couldn't pull her up another hill, she rested for a while. And when sounds around her kept her from sleeping anymore, she got back up and kept going.
Several times, she skirted the edge of a village or cut through a flooded field of corn, but she didn't see another person the entire time. The storms continued, time without lightning flashing overhead rare. A small part of her brain wondered if it was because of her. If the constant rain was because of the curse causing the duke's magic to go wacky, were the heavier storms because she was no longer helping him control it?
"But with the Saintess there, his curse should not be going wild," she muttered to herself as she pushed sodden stalks of corn out of her way. "Maybe he is not even coming after me..."
She entertained that thought as she came out of the corn field and dashed across to the treeline not far ahead. As she stepped into the shelter of the massive oaks, her shoulders sagged once more. "He won't stop, so you don't stop, girl," she whispered, and wrapping her hand around the hilt of the stolen knife, she continued her march.
At least a dozen times every waking period, she froze and strained her ears to catch what she thought was the sound of horses in the distance. Sometimes, she was certain a footstep sounded just on the other side of a wide tree. Each time, she cowered in the gloom, making herself as hard to spot as she could, but each time, she was alone. She stood back up, looked around carefully, and then started to run again.
The few times she was able to sleep long enough to dream, nightmares kept her company. Chaotic images and flashing lights, and the feeling of being chained in place, unable to get free. She would wake up, covered in sweat. Soon, she would begin shivering from being wet and cold, and sleep would not come again during that rest period.
More often than not, Zaria forgot to eat something when she was in the tent. Her mind told her she needed to be trying to nap when she was there, and she wasn't thinking about it. If her stomach growled, she would eat a granola bar, but the fear and adrenaline were keeping her going, and she didn't want to stop to eat more often.
After a while, she began to fear getting sick again. The poncho did a good job of keeping the majority of the rain off of her, but she was still wet, cold, and tired all the time. During a moment of clear thinking, she decided that she would change into a pair of dry clothes each time she took a rest, and then change back into the wet ones when it was time to go again. There was no point in wearing fresh clothes outside. They would become wet far too soon after stepping out into the never-ending rain.
But those hours spent in dry clothes while resting did wonders for her state of mind. She was able to get back to sleep easier, and if the nightmares still came when she slept long enough to dream, then at least she slept for more of the shorter periods besides that.
It was during one of these rest periods that she surged upright, pulled from one of her heart-pounding dreams by some sound in the distance. She sat up, the cold ground under the tent chilling her bottom as much as the chilly damp air was doing to her arms. When her mind cleared, she lowered her body back down to the ground, only to jerk upright once more when the sound of something moving came from far too close to where she was laying down. It sounded too heavy to be an animal, unless it was a bear, she supposed. The tent windows were all sealed up so that the rain couldn't get inside, so she sat crouched there, listening as the sounds of fallen branches breaking and boots sucked into the mud came closer until they were right outside the tent.
In one smooth motion, the zipper to the opening was undone, and Zaria surged forward,knife in her hand, stopping so suddenly that she fell forward onto her hands, dropping the knife to the ground. Dark eyes under sharp black brows stared at her from the opening, familiar thin lips raising into a small smile.
"Gu Cheng," she whispered, her eyes widening in shock. Her eyes traveled down, sliding over the suit she recognized from Grandpa Gu's birthday party, now soaked through in the rain. His hand rose up and combed the wet hair back from his forehead, the soft and gentle smile never leaving his face. "How... how are you here?"
He did not answer, slowly stepping into the tent from his crouched position, wiping the rain off of his face once he was inside. Her wide eyes watched him, exhaustion and nerves taking far too long to register the bright sparkle coming from his wrist. "Wait...that..."
Zaria lunged forward, scrabbling for the knife that she dropped near the entrance. Long, cold fingers encircled her wrist and squeezed it hard as her body was forced backward onto the ground, squirming and lashing out with her other hand, trying to get away. Long black hair swung across her face, and a second hand came down on her other wrist, holding it firmly against the ground. She screamed wordlessly as blazing golden eyes hovered over her, the magic gone when his skin touched hers.
"I found you."