The Runaway Heiress
You’re insane, I tell myself as I urge my horse, Apollo, deeper into the woods. You must be the stupidest girl on the planet. You’re not going to last one day out here.
Those thoughts send me flashing back to the words Hunter said to me just before I ran away. You’re so goddamn stupid, Echo. Why do you insist on making the same, empty threats over and over again? You know you wouldn’t last a second out there without me.
That was after hitting me, of course. That’s my beloved boyfriend’s whole MO: physically attack first, verbally attack second, and apologize last—if at all.
I didn’t give him the chance to apologize this time. I ran.
Could I have gone home? Do I even consider that hundred-million-dollar Buffalo mansion my home? I certainly never did before my mother died; I avoided it at all costs. But then she died, and since I was still a minor at the time, my two choices were foster care or my estranged father.
I really should have gone with foster care.
I do my best to shake my thoughts away as I slow Apollo to a walk and pull out my map. I did a fair bit of research prior to this little escape mission of mine; this wasn’t the first time my boyfriend or my father pushed me to my breaking point. But even with a compass and a map, I’m finding myself more lost than I anticipated.
I know what you’re thinking: Are you seriously a twenty-first century girl who ran away on a horse?
In any other case, that’d be fair. Surely there are better ways to escape. Hop on a bus; rent a car; hitchhike. Find a new city and start over. I’m eighteen, after all; I legally have the right to live alone.
Well, unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way for me. If I got my own place on the books, Hunter would track me down and find a thousand different ways to make me regret leaving him. If I tried to establish new roots under a new name, my father would report me missing and put at least a million dollar reward on my head for appearances’ sake alone. I’m not exactly famous, but my face is in the papers enough that someone would recognize me and, well, talk.
He’s not abusive, if you were wondering—my dad. His intense egomania and lack of compassion aren’t exactly going to earn him any Father of the Year awards, but that’s not why I refuse to live with him.
It’s his company that’s the problem. I won’t bore you with the long list of privacy, humanity, pollution and manipulation issues that the Davis Corporation is involved in, but trust me when I tell you it’s one of the most corrupt companies in the world, and his money is as dirty as it gets.
I really miss my mom.
“Where are we, boy?” I ask my great, black Thoroughbred as I rein him to a complete stop. It’s not important to know exactly where we are, I suppose; if I’m planning on living in the woods for the rest of my life, it doesn’t really matter which woods.
“You’re near the Niagara River.”
I shriek at the sound of the human voice from behind me. How could someone possibly be out here with us? I left the stables and all civilization behind at least two hours ago.
It’s a boy, I realize with surprise—a boy who can’t be more than ten or eleven. There’s something strange about him, though it’s hard to put my finger on what. His skin almost seems to glow, and his features are pointed and sharp. His eyes are green, like mine, but seem to burn with the intensity of… well, of a green I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.
“S… sorry,” I stammer, blinking at the boy. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone out here.”
“It’s alright, Mistress.” He looks shyly down at his hands. “Might you have a penny or two to spare for a lad in need?”
Is he… English? I can’t quite place his accent, though his use of the words “lad” and “Mistress” seems to indicate that he is. I scan his clothes, heart suddenly going out to the boy. They’re a frayed mess, and far too big for his concerningly thin frame.
“Of course,” I say quickly, reaching into my saddle bag for my wallet. I hesitate—not because I’m worried about giving away the cash that’s supposed to last me the rest of my life, but because I’m worried that it won’t be enough. After all, if a ten year old boy is in the woods by himself, he’s got bigger problems than a lack of money, right?
I pull all the cash out of the wallet, then slide off Apollo’s back. I’m not worried about him running off; ever since I rescued him from the slaughterhouse, he’s been glued to my hip. I step slowly over to the boy, then kneel to meet him at eye level.
“Here,” I say, handing over the money. “But… Can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”
He glances down at the money I’ve just given him, eyes wide. “Is this everything you had?”
What was I really going to do with it out here, anyway? “No,” I lie. “Don’t worry about me. What’s your name?”
“I’m…” He bites his lip, then glances back into my eyes. It’s like staring into green fire—so intense, it almost burns. “I’m all alone, Mistress. I don’t know where to go or what to do.”
I can almost hear Hunter’s voice in my head, taunting me. Congratulations, Echo. You made it two hours before crawling back.
Because, of course, I have to go back. I can’t just throw money at this child and hope he’s okay. He’s all alone, he’s even more lost than I am, and he needs help.
I might not be the best-equipped person to give it to him, but I’m sure I can help him find someone better.
“I’ll take you back to town,” I tell him, reaching out a hand. “Have you ever ridden a horse before?”
His green eyes flicker over to Apollo, then back to me. “But you’ve run away from town. Haven’t you?”
Perspective, for a little runt, I marvel, impressed. “No,” I lie again. “I was just… on a trail.”
He doesn’t seem to believe me. “You’d do that for a strange boy like me? Take me back to the place you’re trying so hard to escape from?”
How could this boy know anything about what I’ve been through or what I’m trying to escape?
“Well… yeah,” I stammer, blinking down at him.
But, just like that, he’s gone.
That’s the best way to describe it, really—just… gone. Disappeared into thin air so quickly, I start to question whether he was ever there at all.
“What do you think, boy?” I ask my horse as I wander dubiously back over to him, hoist my foot into the stirrup, and vault up onto his back. “Am I going insane?”
Apollo tosses his head uninterestedly in response to my question, and for another few seconds, I stare into the spot where the boy disappeared.
And then, just as suddenly as the boy disappeared, something emerges. Something fast.
It’s a wolf—and it’s sprinting straight at me.
