Outcast (The Darkeningstone Series Book 2) by Mikey Campling Read Free Book Online Page A

swallow his food so he could explain himself. But he was still searching for something to say when Sceort marched up and stood at Tostig’s side. He looked Hafoc up and down and frowned.
    “Where have you been?” Hafoc asked. “We’ve been waiting.”
    Sceort gave him a cold look. “To get this, of course,” he said. “For you.” He held out his hand, and showed them a length of coiled rope.
    “Very good,” Tostig said. “Now we’re ready. Let’s go.” And he turned and led the way into the forest, with Sceort and Flyta close behind him.
    Hafoc took a last look at the camp and then he also turned away, walking quickly to catch up with the others. “Come on, Nelda,” he said. And Nelda pricked up her ears and followed the scouting party into the darkness.

Chapter 6

    NO NEED TO PANIC , I told myself. I’d just lost my sense of direction for a moment, that was all. I needed to calm down and figure out what to do. But first, I needed to rest. My legs ached, my head was buzzing, and whenever I blinked it was a struggle to bring the forest back into focus. I ran my hands over my face and took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. There was a small patch of grass just ahead, and I walked over to it and sat down, resting my back against a tree trunk. The grass was damp and I could already feel the moisture seeping into the seat of my jeans, but that didn’t matter. The gentle coolness of the wet cloth against my skin was almost pleasant. I put my head back against the tree trunk’s rough bark and a wave of pure exhaustion surged over me, washing clean through the mess of my muddled mind. I let out a slow breath. I mustn’t fall asleep , I thought. Whatever happens, I mustn’t fall asleep . I closed my eyes.
    ***
    When I woke up, my throat burned with an aching thirst. I tried to swallow, but my tongue was thick and coarse. Oh man , how long have I been asleep? I coughed; a dry, hacking cough as though something was caught in my throat. I turned my head and tried to spit on the ground but nothing would come. My mouth was too dry.
    “Oh god,” I moaned. Or tried to. My voice was scratchy and distant. I swallowed again and this time it was a little easier. I staggered to my feet and the blood rushed to my head as I stood. For a moment, the world seemed to shift and blur. My legs were weak and unsteady. I pressed one hand against the tree for support and with the other, I rubbed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. This must be what a hangover feels like , I thought. I allowed myself a wry smile. I’d tried lager and I hadn’t really liked it, but right now, the thought of a cold glass of golden beer seemed pretty good. Maybe I’d give it another go—if I ever got out of this damned forest. I shook my head. Of course I was going to get out of there. “I’ve just got to figure it out,” I muttered.
    I kept my hand on the tree trunk, to steady myself, and peered out into the trees. Keeping one hand on the tree, I walked all the way around its trunk, looking carefully in every direction. But what was I searching for? Yes, I needed to find water. That was obvious. But what should I actually do? I’d already tried heading vaguely downhill, but that hadn’t got me anywhere. I had no idea how to backtrack to the hill, and anyway, I knew for certain there was no water up there. For a moment, I remembered the dew I’d seen on the grass. Now, I’d happily lick every last drop, snails and all.
    I sighed and looked up to the dense tree canopy overhead. From the glimpses of sunlight, I could tell the sun had risen higher since I’d entered the forest. But that didn’t help much because I didn’t know what time it was. Surely, if I’d slept until it was past noon, the sun would already be heading toward the west. I rubbed my forehead, the grit and grime on my hand scratching against my sweat-damp skin. Maybe I should stay here , I thought. I could stay in the shade of the trees until it isn’t so hot