Scheming Against Devotion (Book 2 of The Transition of Pinn)

Ivy:

My mouth pops open, but no sounds come out.

Perhaps my shock is because I’m tired, or perhaps because it seems impossible that anyone would care to come after me.

I need to leave. I have to get out of here before the crowd arrives. God, what would they do to me? What would they do to Johanna and her sons for harboring me? Would we be dragged onto the street and beaten? Killed? Raped? Would they ransack Johanna’s house? Would they torture us? Would our faces even be recognizable when they are done?

“Come on” Johanna waves at me “we need to get you dressed”

I stand and follow her to the first room in her house as she takes down my coat and throws it on the table.

“What size shoes do you wear?”

“Ah… um…” my brain isn’t really functioning and I can’t really respond. Where am I going to go? Should I try to find a hiding place for the rest of the night? When happens if the riot isn’t over by then?

“Try these on” Johanna throws some thick winter boots my way. They are black and ugly and marred with scratches and dirt, and look much warmer than the dainty shoes I was running around in before. “And these as well” she tosses some thick woolen socks my way.

I slide on the socks over my current stockings and shove my foot into one of the boots. The thick sock is too large and bunches and the boot is a little tight around the ankle. I ignore both of these things.

She snaps her fingers, “Wait here, I have a warmer coat” Johanna runs upstairs.

I stand there, my feet stuffed into the boots. The only light is coming through the open door to the living room and the darkness feels like it is creeping ever closer. And soon I will have to go outside where it’s even darker.

It’s still quiet. Sometimes I think I hear the roar of an approaching crowd, but I can’t quite make it out.

Johanna sprints down the stairs with a pile of clothing in her arms. Worried she’ll trip, I run-up to her and grab the pile from her, setting it on the table.

“I threw in a sweater and some mittens as well”

I’m picking up the items and the coat is enormous, wide, black, and so long it will drag on the ground behind me. It’s cold outside, but I didn’t think it was so cold as to require such heavy clothing.

“Thank you, Johanna, but I don’t think I need all this…”

She starts picking up items and holding them out for me to put on, “Don’t be silly, it’ll be cold and you don’t know how long it will be until they find you”

I swallow at that. How long until they-? No, I can’t think of it like that, I’ll be in bed with Giddean tomorrow night wrapped up in silky sheets and lots of blankets, clean after a long soak in the bath, and safe- definitely safe.

I don’t argue with Johanna any further and throw on the offered clothing. A thick woolen sweater, mittens, and hat, as well as the long coat that swamps my figure. All of its muted colors made even duller by the lack of light in the room.

Suddenly there is a loud crash, followed by some cheering. The crowd is growing closer.

“Hurry up” She begins walking towards the back of the house, through the door next to the stairs. Perhaps there is a back door out of here.

The room is clearly a small kitchen and she lights a small candle sitting in a candlestick quickly, partly illumining the room. I look around; there are counters and bags of flour and other supplies, a large fireplace, and an iron oven of some kind. Pots hang on the far wall and scary knives on another. But I don’t see any doors.

She sets the candle down on a counter and begins to unwrap a small bundle. It’s quickly clear that it is a crusty loaf of bread. She uses her fingers and arm strength to tear it apart.

She then hands half of it to me, “Put this in your pocket, you might need it”

I hold the chunk of crusty bread with gritty bits of flour coating my hands. I’m beginning to feel nauseous once more and the cold shiver of worry strikes me down my spine despite my heavy clothing- Johanna is preparing me to be out there for a while, not just until morning.

She grabs the candle and walks towards the back of the room. Settling the candle down again nearby, she begins moving a pile of boxes I hadn’t noticed before around. I place the dense bread in my pock and follow her.

After a minute it’s clear that this is the door. It’s a small wooden door in the floor, just wide enough for a person, normally hidden by boxes and small crates. Suspicious to say the least.

I give her a look, but she ignores it.

“You need to walk through the tunnel. It’s maybe a kilometer, it’s been a long time since I’ve been down there.”

There is another loud crash that causes both of us to turn around in the direction of the noise.

Johanna opens the door. Below it is a pitch-black hole in the ground. I can’t make out a floor or wall or anything down there really.

“There is a rope on the wall, use it to guide you out.” She starts to speak quickly, “follow it until the end. It should lead you to the edge of the forest. Wait until the sun rises and then leave the tunnel. Walk into the forest and they will find you”

“Who will-?” I begin to ask.

There is loud pounding that echoes through the house.

“You need to go” her voice has a biting edge to it.

I crouch down and put my feet into the open. It’s unclear how deep the hole is. The only thing that is clear is that is it dark. Using my hands I slowly lower myself down. I eventually hit the dirt bottom of the tunnel maybe five feet in.

I crouch and look up as Johanna begins to shut the door.

“Remember, the rope will lead you out. Then walk into the forest” She says firmly.

The door above me shuts with a soft thud and I begin to hear Johanna shuffling around.

Its pitch black in the tunnel and my heart is beating wildly. I’m not usually scared of the dark or confined spaces, but this is too much for me, the terror rushing through my veins, moist earth smell, the cramped feeling of the walls pressed around me but I don’t know where they begin and end. I know that I need to move, move my hands until I find a wall and use it to find the rope. But my body feels like lead, weighed down by my heavy clothing and my fear.

I take a step and feel my heavy coat under my feet. I lift the coat only for my foot to slip on the uneven dirt. I try to adjust my balance, but without any sight, I quickly misjudge and find myself leaning too far to the left.

Tired, I crumble to the dirt floor and begin to cry.

*****

Hi guys!

If you want to read ahead or support me, please check out my Patreon page where Scheming Against Devotion is complete and you can read ahead on all my ongoing books, get news on the series, and participate in polls starting at 3 Euros a month (+VAT, various currencies available). Check it out at https://www.patreon.com/heatherjacobs

Happy reading

Heather