Darkwood by M. E. Breen Read Free Book Online

astonishment, she did not let go of the window frame.
    â€œOh, come now. I won’t let you break your little bones.” Another bullet hit the barn wall, a few inches above her head this time. Annie held on.
    When he spoke again all the humor had left his voice.
    â€œI can part your hair with one of these. Do you want a scar like mine?” Another bullet, so close to her face she could feel its trail of heat. “Do you?”
    She let go.
    He caught her. It was worse than hitting the ground. His arms were harder than wood, and he smelled bad—not of sweat and manure, as she’d expected, but of a ripe, almost rotten sweetness. Annie started to struggle and kick. He dropped her, no, he tossed her, to the ground. By the time she had scrambled upright he had the nose of the rifle pressed into her spine.
    â€œThis way.”
    His torch cast enough light that she could walk without stumbling, but Annie dragged her feet. This would be her one chance to get away, before they got to wherever they were going. If she could just find something to distract him … oh, where were the cats?
    â€œI wouldn’t waste the thought, gal. There’s nothing but forest to the north of us, and miles to town. But don’t worry, you’ll be snug as a bug where you’re headed, snug as—” He stopped. “What is …?”
    The kinderstalk had started to howl again, but the soundhad a different quality from what Annie had heard in the chicken coop. Those howls had sounded like questions, she realized now, questions and answers. These were fierce, urgent. And closing in.
    â€œMove!” The scarred man grabbed her arm and started to run, half carrying her across the yard. He stopped at a wooden door in the ground with a ring in the center.
    â€œLift it up.”
    He watched her struggle for a few seconds, then reached down and pulled the door free with one hand. A ragged circle opened in the earth.
    â€œIn.”
    â€œNo.”
    He looked at her in real surprise. “You don’t hear them? You think you’re better off out here?”
    â€œI won’t. You’ll have to shoot me first.”
    Behind them, a kinderstalk snarled. The man whirled around, firing his rifle wildly into the dark. Then, quick as a snake, he turned and struck Annie behind the knees with the barrel.
    â€œNo good to us dead,” he hissed.
    She pitched forward, the black mouth of the pit opening wide to swallow her.

Chapter 4
    A beetle inched past Annie’s nose. Dirtcarver, or maybe a mudmopper. Gregor would have known. She poked the beetle and it melted into the darkness. Her head hurt, and her shoulder, and her hip. She eased herself into a sitting position and did a quick inventory of limbs. Nothing broken, but she’d taken quite a knock. Her eyesight kept shifting between clear and blurry, and the light had a queer brown tone to it. She held her hand in front of her face: five fingers, just as usual. She straightened her arm and the hand disappeared into the dark. Bent her elbow, the hand came back. She supposed she should blow out the lantern. It was a wonder the candle had lasted as long as this.
    The lantern lay on its side a few feet away. Reluctantly, she reached for it.
    Annie snatched back her hand as if stung.
    The handle of the lantern was cool. The glass windows of the lantern were dull and cold. The candle had burned to nothing. And yet she could see the bit of string that tied theend of her braid, and the matted hair above it. She could see the coarse gray fabric of her dress spread out across her lap, down to the pucker in the cloth where Page had darned it. She could see the dotted lines of dried blood on the backs of her hands where bracka bushes had scratched her. Annie squeezed her eyes shut and the world went dark. She opened them and there were her hands still in her lap, gripping the fabric of her dress tightly now. She picked up the lantern and examined every inch of