Wildwood (Wildwood Chronicles 1)

“Yes, I suppose that is,?

?? said Alexandra. “It was very nice to meet you, Prue. It’s not often I have a chance to meet Outsiders.” She stood up from her throne and walked to Prue, extending a hand to help her from her seat. Prue winced to have weight on the ankle again, and Alexandra gave a concerned look, saying, “Ooh. That poor ankle. Maksim!”

One of her attendants walked swiftly to their side. “Yes, madam.”

“Why don’t you pack our guest’s sprain in a poultice before she goes. Turmeric and castor leaves.” She looked back down at Prue. “Should be good as new.”

“Thanks, Alexandra,” said Prue, accepting Maksim’s proffered elbow.

“Let’s post a troop at the hillside overlooking the Railroad Bridge; if there’s some sort of rift in the Periphery allowing free passage into Wildwood, now would be a good time to step up the security,” Alexandra instructed. “We don’t want any more Outsiders stumbling in here and getting hurt. Enough damage has been done to these poor children; heaven forbid more should be lost in the Wood.”

Maksim nodded.

The Governess continued, “And Maksim: Take the side exit. There seems to be some sort of tumult in the main chamber. Best not to disturb the dear girl any more.”

“Aye, madam.”

As Prue was led from the chamber via a side door, she could see Alexandra calling a group of soldiers to her and, whispering hushed instructions, following them through the opposite door.

“What’s going on?” asked Prue, hobbling unsteadily over the uneven ground.

“Nothing of note, I expect,” replied Maksim. “Likely just some tiff between soldiers. Here, let’s make it to the pantry, and I can tend to that ankle of yours.”

“Thanks,” said Prue. It tasted bitter, this sudden surrender, but the anticipation of returning home was sweeping over her like a breeze on the first clear spring day.

“Shut those prisoners UP!” shouted the Commandant, having arrived at the growing group of soldiers standing on the cavern floor, staring up at the cages. The bandits had joined in with Curtis, screaming the girl’s name over and over, batting their cage bars with their empty bowls. The noise was deafening, echoing endlessly off the tall cavern walls.

The frantic warden was babbling, “I don’t know what’s come over them! I don’t know!”

The Commandant glared at the warden before turning to his soldiers and instructing them to raise their rifles. “Fire at will,” he said firmly.

Curtis had his eyes on the crowd of soldiers below them, and when he heard the Commandant’s directive, he yelled to the other prisoners, “They’re going to shoot!”

“Swing your cages, boys!” shouted Brendan. “Give ’em a moving target!”

Immediately, Curtis and the bandits began running from side to side in their cages, sending them into a jostling sway. The hemp ropes holding them to the root branches moaned and creaked under the violent action.

The soldiers began firing indiscriminately, and the cavern was alive with the crackle of gunfire, the acrid smoke from the powder filling the room.

“Keep swinging!” yelled Brendan. “Faster!” Curtis heard a bullet whiz by his cheek and he set to swinging his cage even harder.

A woman’s voice came through the cloud of smoke that was billowing up from the soldiers’ rifle barrels. “STOP!” she commanded. The firing abruptly ceased. Curtis stopped his running, his stance spread across the cage floor in an attempt to slow its swinging. Finally, the smoke began to clear and Curtis could make out the figure of Alexandra, walking toward the cages. Her face was flushed red.

“Insolent children!” she shouted, waving a hand in front of her face to dispel the smoke. “Insolent, bratty ruffians!”

Dmitri, the coyote, demurred from his cage. “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Shut up, you,” dismissed the Governess.

“Where’s Prue?” shouted Curtis, out of breath from the swinging. The smoke in the chamber clawed at his throat and stung his eyes. “What have you done with her?”

“I sent her home,” said the Governess. “She’s gone. Back to the Outside. So you all can stop your racket now, thank you very much.” She looked directly at Curtis and said, “She’s in bad shape, you know. She’s been through a lot.”

“You lied to her!” Curtis yelled. “She doesn’t know your plan!”

“She’s a smart girl, that Prue McKeel,” responded Alexandra calmly. “She knows when she’s in over her head. Unlike certain other Outsiders of my acquaintance.”

Here Brendan interceded. “Let the children be, witch,” he said, his gruff voice emanating angrily from his cage. “What kind of woman chooses children for enemies?”