As both Damian and Saphie sang that they were ready, Catalin sighed heavily. “All right. Let’s go.”
***
The world was much like Catalin had left it, after all.
It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been outside in fifteen years. The palace had plenty of courtyards, and balconies. But that was about as far as his exposure went: he was forbidden to leave the palace grounds, after all. When he was younger, he’d tried to escape several times, but those attempts never got him outside of the palace walls.
So he’d forgotten what it was like, to walk through a forest. Unlike at the palace, where the ocean breeze pervaded everything, this place smelled like rain and dirt. The canopy of trees was thick enough to cover most of the sky, so only a few patches of moonlight shone through to the ground. Other than the path of the lantern Victor held, Catalin couldn’t see anything, but he could hear things rustling and cracking all around them, and the hypnotic chirping of cicadas and frogs.
He would have appreciated it a lot more had he not been hot, sweaty, and completely exhausted.
Also, the tree roots were out to get him.
As he went sprawling over what must have been the tenth one in two hours, Victor automatically turned to help him up, and Saphie stifled a giggle. “You’re actually really clumsy, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” Catalin grumbled.
“How’re you holding up?” Victor asked. “We’re almost to the base of the mountains.”
“I’m fine,” Catalin said petulantly, pressing on forward. He wasn’t about to let them thing he couldn’t handle it; he may not have had training like Damian or Saphie, but he wasn’t a weakling. Back at the palace, he had to work through exhaustion on a regular basis, and these people seemed to think he was delicate just because he couldn’t wave a sharp piece of metal around.
Wait, he thought. Why am I getting competitive with people like them?
He needed to be thinking of his escape plan. He couldn’t exactly pull a Hansel and Gretel and leave a trail. Even if he did have something to create a trail with, Victor, at least, was sure to notice. Catalin’s best bet was biding his time until they got to the inn, and running off while the others slept.
But by the time they arrived the inn half an hour later, Catalin was already fending off fantasies about the beds, how much softer they probably were than his own at the palace. He barely noticed the black, indistinct shapes that rose from the ground behind the building, shapes he supposed were the mountains Victor was talking about, and followed the trio inside. As they entered the first floor room they’d been given, Catalin attempted to keep a straight face. It wouldn’t be too long until he’d be home free.
And to his horror, none of them went to bed. Rather, they decided then would be the perfect time to discuss the way things were going to go the next day.
Catalin sat up and waited, staring at them until he could hardly even comprehend what they were saying anymore. Finally, Damian turned to him and informed him, “Oh, are we keeping you up? We can go out into the hall!”
“… don’t worry about it.” Giving up, Catalin flopped onto the bed, rolling onto his stomach and noting that the mattress was, indeed, softer than his.
Trying to find my way out of here in the dark would be too troublesome, anyway, Catalin told himself, shutting his eyes. Maybe I’ll just wake up before everyone else…
