Page 53 of White Raven

Half of its arm was missing.

“Huginn-Muninn,” I whispered. “You’re the same one from the tower . . .” I trailed off, recalling how the other ones bullied him. “How are you here?”

It tipped its head like it was trying to understand me. A twittering sound like a purr vibrated from it.

“Did you follow us?”

It tipped its head in the opposite direction, huge dark eyes staring up at me.

“The satchel.” I spoke to myself, looking at the table where the Northerner had set it down earlier. “You were in the saddlebag, weren’t you?”

It made a clicking sound, sniffing at the cloth wrapped around my wrists.

“What are you?” We had a lot of creatures in the Day Realm forests, but nothing like this. It really looked like a plant root or twig come to life.

The twig’s tiny grey tongue peeked out, licking the fabric, and a purr hummed from it before its mouth opened wide, displaying large fangs for its body.

“Fuck!” I jumped as its teeth sank into the bonds around my wrists, chomping down with ferociousness, the sweet-looking creature turning feral, devouring the restraints. Terrified the thing was going to start into my flesh, I yanked my arms away with a yelp.

With a rattled click, it tore off under the bed, my rash movements frightening it. I instantly regretted my reaction. Shredded fabric still clung to my wrists, tying me to the fireplace, but it would take only a few more nibbles for them to snap.

“Hey?” I peered under the bed. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

Silence.

“Please, come back. I won’t hurt you. I promise.” No response. “Please? You can eat all the cloth you want.”

A barely audible twitter came from under the bed before it peeked back out.

“Yes.” I encouraged. “It’s okay.”

It timidly inched closer.

“I promise not to react like that again. You just startled me.” I spoke to it as it slowly came back into view. Huge doe-eyes stared at me with reservation.

“Here.” I lowered my bound arms to it. “You like to eat fabric and shoelaces, huh?”

It sniffed at the binds again, its tongue tasting. Then it flipped. Fangs bored into the natural fibers, devouring them like it was starving, its strands of hair curling and uncurling as it feasted. The cotton snapped off my wrists, liberating me from the restraints. The moment they fell off, I bounced up, running for the door.

I knew he’d locked it, but desperation had me yanking on it anyway.

“Please, please, please.” It wouldn’t budge.

“Dammit!” I exclaimed, frustration sinking into my bones, feeling every tick of the clock. I ran back to the desk, climbing onto it, trying to shove up the frame of the window. The old wood creaked and moaned but was wedged in too tightly.

“No, no, no . . .” I used my shoulder to try and dislodge it.

A prickle rushed up the back of my neck, as if I heard his footsteps, sensed his presence coming up the stairs, felt him influence the space before he arrived. Yet I still froze at the sound of a key fitting in the lock, clanking through the room.

The fear of his punishment went beyond him cutting my hair or tying me up. If he found me like this, free of his bindings, he would never let his guard down. Never leave me alone, giving me an opportunity like this again.

Springing back for the rug, I dropped down, covering the bits of curtain still left in tatters on the floor. Fanning my cloak around me, I curled in a tight ball, tucking my face under my hood, hiding the missing bindings from my mouth and arms.

The door creaked open, the lamp from the hallway spilling in. Through my lashes, I could see his huge outline fill the doorway, feel the burn of his gaze on me. I lay still, pretending to be sound asleep.

He stepped further inside, shutting the door behind him. His boots struck the ground, the vibration spiking my heart as they stopped in front of me. I didn’t dare open my eyes, didn’t move, so afraid he could see right through my act.

Time seemed to have stopped, stretching out to where panic couldn’t even reach me, paralyzing me in a suspended hold in space.