A Werewolf for the Witch

Chapter 2

‘We must at least try to escape. Let’s head for the cover of the trees.’

I see the three assassins turn their heads in our direction.

‘It will never work.’

Our pursuers take another couple of steps towards us, randomly brandishing their daggers in front of them. The very tip of one grazes my thigh, and I bite back a whimper. We shift away, putting more distance between them and us. Ann is edging us towards the forest behind the rear wall, despite her earlier comments. She has that determined look on her face she gets every time she is told she can’t do something.

‘Do you trust me?’ she asks.

‘You know I do.’

‘Will you make a Promise if you trust me with your life?’

I hesitate only briefly.

‘Yes,’ I whisper.

‘We need a diversion. I’m going to draw them away. But I need you to Promise me you’ll not turn back; Promise me you’ll find your way to safety. Promise me you’ll remain quiet, no matter what you hear.’

‘Ann…’

‘There’s no time to lose, Ava. The Cloak might start to fade any minute now.’

I don’t like it. Her words are ominous enough to tell me that she intends to be the sacrificial offering while letting me escape.

‘Ava?’

‘I will Promise only if you Promise you won’t put yourself in harm’s way. Promise me you will keep yourself safe.’

I thrust my jaw forward as I met Ann’s exasperated gaze with stubbornness. She frees her hands from mine and presses her fingers to her temples.

‘Hmm… I believe I can make it work. Okay, I Promise I will keep myself safe.’

‘Then I Promise too.’

My heart stops beating for several long seconds when I hear her call out– ‘I’m Princess Avalea Starr. Let my sister go. I know it’s me you want. Princess Annea Rae will never be the Queen. Spare her life. Take me’.

No! I want to scream, but my tongue is stuck to the roof of my throat. The Promise binds me to the word I have given.

They run forward toward Ann’s voice, but Ann drags us farther away, stepping out of their reach yet again. We can’t continue this sick ballet forever. The Cloak thankfully seemed to be holding, even though it has certainly been more than a quarter of an hour. Or perhaps it hasn’t, and it is my own fear making it seem as if the time is going faster than it really is.

‘You know the chances of you getting caught increase exponentially the longer you linger around the palace.’

My heart soars at Ann’s words. Yes! Help will be here. We simply have to hold them at bay until the guards arrive. I turned my head to look at the mayhem behind us. The assassins have set fire to the palace. Every spare person is occupied with putting the fire out. It will be hours before they realize we are missing. Nobody is coming to our aid. We are on our own.

Ann’s words seem to have made the assassins think. They pause in their stride and huddle together, apparently discussing how best to tackle this obstacle.

‘Alright. Show yourself, Princess Avalea Starr. We will let your sister go.’

‘Do you Promise?’

They make an impatient noise.

‘Say the words. Do you Promise to let my sister go? Do you promise to let Ann go?’

‘We Promise,’ says one of them.

‘I need to hear all of you say it.’

‘We Promise,’ they say, their words laced with barely concealed anger rather than impatience this time. One doesn’t need to be a Mind Reader to know their words are obviously false.

But the deed is done. They don’t know it, but Ann has bound them with the Promise.

The Cloak dissolves the minute they say the words. Ann pushes me in the direction of the forest. My feet take over, carrying me away from Ann.

There are shouts and exclamations from behind me as the assassins realize we have tricked them.

‘You’re not Princess Avalea!’

‘She’s escaping! Tor, get her!’

‘I can’t move!’

‘Grab Princess Annea!’

‘She has used some trick. I can’t move.’

‘I thought that vile potion had made us immune to magic.’

A steady stream of angry curses turns the air blue.

Their words are growing fainter the farther I go. The last thing I think I heard was–

‘Where did she go? She was right here!’ More curses.

The last bit of conversation I’d heard makes me think Ann Cloaked herself again. The clever way in which she worded the promise ensured they could harm neither of us. They weren't able to catch her even if they wanted to. Relief makes my legs go weak as I collapse to the ground, before doubt returns, twisting my stomach, threatening to make me sick. Our magic had been useless against them. How can I be certain that the Promise had bound them to their word?

It seemed to have worked, seeing how they could not pursue me, but can I be absolutely certain that Ann has escaped? I can’t, but I have to believe it, for the sake of my sanity.

I have to reach Uncle Horace. I will find her there. And once I do, we will bring Father’s murderers to justice.

I push myself to my feet and look around me, hoping to find some sort of shelter for the night. There seems to be a hut up ahead. By the looks of it, it seems abandoned.

When I make it to the hut without incident, my relief knows no bounds. I had almost expected somebody to be lying in wait there. The thatched roof of the hut needs severe repair. One wall has partially collapsed. The mud floor is strewn with bird droppings. Yet, in one corner, there is a pallet made of hay. In my exhausted state, I don’t stop to wonder who made it. I head for it and make myself as comfortable as I can. Sleep steals over my senses, and I surrender to the blessed escape.

It isn’t much of an escape, however, as my slumber is peppered with nightmares of Father being killed, Ann being captured and tortured; one garish image merging into another until I’m forced to open my eyes.

As I return to a state of wakeful awareness, my heart rate spikes up when I sense a presence of another being in the hut. Slowly, gradually, I turn to face whoever is in the room.

I’m staring into the glowing eyes of a Cursed One.

They have found me.