Page 34 of Cursed By Malignant Magic
Impatience had gotten me into trouble before.
This time, I would wait.
Hours passed before I was finally convinced that Legacy was fully asleep, at least enough for me to risk reaching for the dagger. Her breathing didn't change, and I moved as slowly as I could manage, the blade cool in my grip as I touched it with my fingers and pulled it toward me.
Part of me was tempted to escape right now, but there was no way that would end well. I didn't know where we were, let alone how to get out of this building, or how many people were here. For all I knew, there was someone outside the door waiting for me to try just that.
Instead, I carefully sawed through the thick ropes around my wrists, leaving just enough fibers that they looked complete, but not so much that I wouldn't be able to snap the ropes entirely if the situation called for it. Until I had a better plan, I was safer here, but that didn't mean I was a fool.
With a smirk, I slid the dagger back under Legacy's pillow and turned to face away from her so that she didn't see my expression if she happened to open her eyes.
I was biding my time, but now, at least, I had a chance of escape.
Chapter
Twenty
At this point, I was beginning to wish that I had escaped in the middle of the night.
My tailbone felt as if it were going to rattle out of my body as the horse took another jolting step, and I winced as my leg spasmed in pain.
We had been riding for hours, and it took nearly as much concentration for me not to accidentally snap the ropes around my wrists as it did for me to stay on the horse behind Legacy. With my wrists bound, I couldn't hold on to her for support, and it was a struggle for me to keep my balance.
The horse didn't seem bothered by the weight of two riders, but it still took us far longer than I expected to arrive at the outpost for Legacy's forces so that she could turn me over and recharge her magic.
Far longer than I expected, and yet still too soon for my taste.
I was about to become a prisoner once again, even more than I already was, and I couldn't shake the bone-deep feeling that something was so very wrong as we rode toward the outpost, the massive fortress that was somehow smaller than the one I had just left.
"Something isn't right," I told Legacy, and she shifted on the horse in front of me.
I expected her to tell me I was wrong, but she didn't speak at all. Her shoulders tensed, and I followed her gaze to the front gate, which stood wide open. The scent of blood rode the air.
The horse spooked, ears pinned flat to her head. Legacy's magic surged just as much as mine did.
And then all hell broke loose.
Archers and mages alike appeared on the walls of the fortress, magic and arrows raining down upon us.
Legacy threw up a shield, and I snapped the ropes around my wrists with a hard yank. Soldiers flooded through the open front gate. Legacy drew her dagger. She faced off with the soldiers, and I made my decision in a flash.
I grabbed the reins and scooted forward, driving the horse back in the direction we had come. Her hooves drummed on the ground while I leaned forward over her neck, praying that speed would be enough to prevent any arrows or flying magic from stabbing me in the back.
With no bracelet or gauntlet, any shield I could make would be hard to control, and at this speed, it wasn't worth wasting the energy. Then again, I might change my mind if the wound in my leg, pounding with pain with every jolting, galloping step, became a smaller problem than an arrow in my back.
The horse and I bolted into the dense forest, her hooves pounding against the earth in a frantic rhythm. My heart raced with adrenaline and my hands shook uncontrollably as we pushed ourselves to the limit, disappearing into the shadows of the trees.
After a few minutes, I tugged gently on the reins, slowing the horse to a walk and then finally to a full stop. White lather covered her shoulders, sweat trickling down her flanks, and my stomach twisted at how hard I had pushed her. She had beencarrying Legacy and me for hours, and I hadn't even considered how much she was struggling.
"I'm sorry," I murmured.
I dismounted, walked to her withers, and dug in the saddlebags for the waterskin. Once I managed to pour water into my hands, she buried her soft muzzle in my palms, sucking down the cool water quickly.
I glanced back in the direction we had come and swallowed hard. I had been a captive again, about to be turned over to Legacy's superiors. I had every right to leave her. So why did it feel like a betrayal? Because she’d been attacked too for some reason?
With a snarl of frustration, I swung back into the saddle and pointed the mare back in the direction we had come, letting her canter rather than the headlong gallop from before, even if it didn't feel like it was fast enough.
Every moment that I took to ride back was another second that Legacy could be blasted with magic or stabbed by one of the soldiers, and I couldn't shake the terrible images of what could happen, even as the more logical part of my mind reminded me that I owed her nothing. She had been kind a few times, but kindness from a captor did not mean I owed her.
