Page 55 of Casting Butterflies

“Meaning I should be trying to leave now.”

“You’re in a camp crawling with soldiers, with many of them muttering about the witch.”

“Me?” I squeaked.

“Who else was flinging around her hands, leaving a trail of headless goblins in her wake.”

I sucked in my lower lip. “You’d think they’d be grateful.”

“They’re also superstitious. More than a few think you caused the monsters to attack.”

“That’s ridiculous. I fought them.”

“Never said their claim was logical. Some are even demanding the major, the man you were just talking to, should set you on fire.”

“Assholes. I should have let the big bug escape and eat them.” Maybe then Misha would still be alive.

“I hear soldiers coming. Wait for the signal.”

It would have probably helped if Cedric mentioned what that signal would be.

Turned out, I wouldn’t be travelling alone. The military worked briskly and brusquely to get me and five others loaded onto a bus to transport us to the city. If I wanted to escape, I’d better do so before we arrived at whatever facility they used for interrogating people.

The distraction I needed—or was it Cedric’s signal?—happened when the bus accidentally collided with the vehicle ahead of us. We hit hard enough smoke poured from the hood, which led to the soldiers ordering us off the bus.

A trio of soldiers armed with guns formed a very loose ring around me and the other prisoners. Apparently, we were to wait until a replacement bus arrived. I’d never get a better opportunity, but given how closely I was being watched, I’d have to be careful, lest I get shot. These soldiers, making the sign of the cross every time I caught their eye, wouldn’t hesitate to harm me.

Cedric suddenly appeared at the foot of one, twining around his legs, even tolerating the petting that followed. What a jerk. Usually, I got the claw for disrespecting his furry space. The cat sauntered past the soldiers and rubbed against the woman who kept spitting and muttering in my direction. Guess she also thought me a witch.

Given the weakness of my muscles—from being prone for four days—I sat on the ground. To my shock, Cedric, the cat who refused to be a cat, came and sat in my lap. For the first time, I was allowed to stroke him without fear for my flesh.

“Why aren’t you escaping?” he whispered.

“How?” I glanced at the soldiers.

“Use your magic.”

“One, I’m still kind of wiped, and two, I’m not killing them for doing their job.”

Cedric sighed. “Always going to the most extreme. You could just make it so they can’t see you long enough to slip away.”

“Make myself invisible?”

“Duh.”

Okay, that was actually a cool idea, but could I do it?

I stood with Cedric in my arms. No one but the woman watched me. So I stared at her until she muttered something I didn’t understand and turned her back on me. Was that enough for me to attempt disappearing?

Just in case someone still eyeballed me, I caused a distraction. The puddle under the vehicle the bus had smashed into ignited way too easily. I just had to imagine striking a match and poof.

The sudden eruption of flames drew gazes and acted as my cue.

I don’t want to be seen. I am invisible. Repeating that wish in a prayer-like mantra, I retreated from the group of prisoners, carefully stepping around the soldier focused on the flickering flames and billowing smoke. He didn’t react whatsoever as I moved past him. My pace quickened as I realized it was working. Faster. I jogged, still chanting inside my head, tense and sweating, fearful at any second I’d be noticed.

But no one yelled, and soon I was out of sight of the crash, the soldiers, everyone. I’d gotten away, but now what?

Cedric wiggled. “Put me down.”