The Scourge - Page 59

And almost the moment he stepped out into the storm, lightning hit a tree above us.

The crack was louder than I could have imagined, and the tree began to fall toward the barracks.

"Governor, watch out!" Brogg yelled. He released me to help her get out of the barracks.

The second he did, I ran.

I stumbled northward, almost blind in the rain. I couldn't have been wetter if I had dived into the deepest river, but that comforted me. I had been wet many times before. I had swum through waters thicker than this rain, with my eyes wide open. I could find my way through this storm.

Where would Weevil be now? The last I had seen him, he was still being held by the warden. Were they keeping him somewhere? Or would he have been released when the other Colonists were sent into the prisons early? Was there any chance he had escaped and gone to the caves?

The storm beat down on me with a violence I'd never felt before, not even in the worst storms the river country produced. I vaguely wondered if this was the kind of storm that had brought down the ship that had carried Weevil's father.

By the time I got to the Colony square, it was empty. The Colonists would all be in the prison, sheltered and safe. Weevil wouldn't be there, though. Hopefully not Della either, because I could not risk entering the prison to find her. It was the first place the wardens would look for me. Even now, they were probably spreading out around the island to search for me.

I had to keep going north.

When I reached the rocky north shore, the winds had picked up. Raindrops felt like knives on my arms and face, but I couldn't look down or I'd be too quickly lost. Normally I could have withstood the storm, but by now, I was almost too tired to even stand. A powerful gust of wind knocked me down once, my hands and knees crashing onto the sharp rock. Ignoring the stings, I got up, only to be immediately knocked over again.

I didn't get up this time, not yet. I would in a while, but I needed more strength first. I saw the cave entrance from where I had fallen, but for as weak as I felt, it seemed miles away.

"Help!" I cried. "Will somebody help me?"

No one would answer. In all of this wind and with the growing rain and thunder, no one would hear me.

I got to my feet once more, but my legs wobbled beneath me. It wasn't the wind that brought me down. My legs couldn't do the work.

I sat on the rocks and closed my eyes. Just take a few deep breaths, I told myself. Then get up and make it to the caves.

"It's so like you, doing a job only halfway," Weevil said, wrapping an arm around me.

I opened my eyes as he lifted me to my feet. "Where did you come from?"

"The caves, of course, though don't tell Warden Gossel because he thinks I'm in the prison, right where he promised to find me after the storm passes."

"Did you hear me calling?"

Weevil smiled. "Calling? No, but I've been watching for you. Now come on, let's get inside."

He almost had to carry me there, and it seemed to me that he did at one point. The water was almost to my knees when we entered the first room of the caves, and up to my ankles in the larger inner room. I could barely slosh through it.

"You said it floods at suppertime ea

ch day," I said to a woman as we entered. "With this storm--"

"We can stay until it reaches our knees," she said. "After that, the water outside will be too high to safely leave the caves."

"How long will that be?" I asked.

The woman brushed my wet hair out of my face and handed me some smoked fish. "Eat now, child. Then rest while you can. We won't have nearly as long as you need."

I tore into the food, frustrated that I couldn't get everything in me as quickly as I wanted. As I ate, Weevil assisted me to the farthest corner of the cave, where it was driest. Someone handed him a piece of linen, which he wrapped around my shoulders to help me dry off a bit, though I knew there was little point. Maybe we had minutes, maybe as much as an hour, but I wouldn't be dry before we were forced to leave.

"The storm might pass," Weevil said. Always optimistic.

"It might." For now, I didn't care. Once I'd finished the fish, I leaned against his shoulder and closed my eyes. "How's your back?" The rod had struck him three times, hard enough I'd heard its echo in the air.

"Do you remember the time I got trampled by that wild boar?"

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Fantasy
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