Prisoner (The Scarred Mage of Roseward #2) - Sylvia Mercedes Page 0,68

this how ordinary people felt after nightfall? She’d never once thought to bring a light . . . but then, she hadn’t reckoned on the depths of this unnatural Night.

At last she spotted brightness ahead—she’d caught up with the daylight! With inexpressible relief she picked up her pace, then nearly screamed when light blazed into her dark-adjusted eyes. She could only stand still and hiss curses while waiting for the bright sparks behind her eyelids to stop dancing.

But the dark crept in behind her. She couldn’t delay.

A subtle slithering sensation crept down her spine. Nelle looked back over her shoulder into the nightfall forest. Were those vines she saw slinking along the forest floor? No. It must be her imagination toying with her again.

She focused ahead, clutched her skirts and her satchel strap, and ran.

Dornrise was still bathed in sunlight when she made her way through the tangle of briars. Though she refused to look back again, she knew night was closing in fast. She burst through the kitchen door, calling, “Sam!”

Something moved in the shadows beneath one of the tables. Nelle’s heart jolted, then settled back into its proper place again when she heard the familiar voice answer, “Is that you, Ginger?”

“Oh, thank the seven gods you’re here!” she gasped, pulling the door mostly shut behind her as though to block out the coming darkness. The kitchen was gloomy enough as it was, with only one briar-choked window admitting a single stream of sunlight.

She hurried between worktables and fell on her knees beside Sam, who was bundled up in what looked like a bit of velvet curtain, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand. Apparently she’d woken him. Just in time.

“Get up, Sam,” she said, reaching to catch hold of his arm. “We got to get moving. There’s no time to delay.”

Sam’s face broke in a huge yawn. “What’s the rush? Didn’t you say I had until sundown? It can’t have been that long, I only just nodded off—”

“Use your sense, idiot! This ain’t your world anymore, remember? The rules of sunup and sundown don’t always apply.”

He smothered his yawn and met her gaze, frowning. Then his eyes widened just a fraction. His fae blessing was at work: He sensed danger.

“Get up!” Nelle growled again and scrambled to her feet. As she turned to face the mostly shut door, she saw on the floor the little triangle of sunlight that shone through the opening.

And she watched it go out. Suddenly and completely.

“Nelle?” Sam’s voice quivered in the dark beside her.

They had to get out. Now. Or they’d be trapped in the Thorn Maiden’s snare.

Without a word to Sam, Nelle sprang for the door. Her hip bone struck one of the worktables, making her gasp with pain, but she staggered on. Feeling her way blindly with outstretched arms, she forced each step, expecting grasping branches to wind her in an irresistible embrace at any moment.

“Nelle?” Sam called again behind her. “Hey, Ginger, are you there?”

Her fingers touched wood paneling, and a whimper of relief burst from her lips. She felt along quickly, searching for the door, searching for the latch. But she couldn’t find it. She couldn’t find it!

Nelle forced herself to stop, to take several long breaths while leaning heavily against the wall. The door was there. She knew it was there. She’d left it open, and she hadn’t heard it shut.

Setting her jaw, she ran her hands along the wall more slowly, more methodically than before. She found the latch. When she tried to turn it, it wouldn’t budge.

Slithering movement brushed against her ankle.

Nelle staggered back into the first of the worktables. “Sam?” she said quietly. “Sam, where are you?”

Terrible silence answered. She could hear nothing but her own breathing.

Then, finally, “It’s awfully dark, Nelle.”

She choked on a little shuddering breath of relief. She wasn’t alone. He was still there. The Thorn Maiden hadn’t dragged him away. If they stayed together, they still had a chance.

“Sam, I’m going to . . . I’m going to work some magic. Don’t scream, and don’t ask me questions. I don’t have time for that.”

Another long silence followed by a meek, “Sure thing.”

Flipping open her satchel, Nelle hastily pulled out her spellbook. “Boggarts,” she muttered as she opened it to the hastily written sword-spell. How was she supposed to read it in this dark? She cast around and saw a faint hint of light coming from one of the great ovens. The last smoldering of the fire she’d cooked sausages