Young Writers Society

Chapter 19.3 - Run

The shield of the forest stopped a good few yards from the shed, and that was where James waited. Elliot was waiting even further back, tied to a tree and quiet. The sun was inching closer and closer to the horizon, ushering in the dusk. As James laid quietly on the forest floor under the shelter of bushy plants at the edge of the treeline, he watched the sky turn to shades of purple and orange behind the shed's roof.

Even though Morgan had filled him in (mostly) on the plan, it was still a guessing game. Run in, get the egg, run out. Don't get shot in the process.

He watched as three figured emerged from the other side of the wood, rushing up to the shed on light feet and keeping low to the ground. With the clearing between the building and them, they had to be fast to not be seen.

James watched them steak up to a window that was propped open. The very fact that it was propped open for air told James that whoever had purchased the egg at Diamond's auction was completely unaware of the conflict they'd stumbled into.

He really hoped they didn't end up dead.

As puff of blue smoke started to leak from the window before one of the thieves slammed it shut from the outside. More people started to rush out of the forest carrying logs, throwing them against the front and back door. He couldn't make out details from afar, but he was pretty sure he recognized some of them from Ajax's crew, not that he'd ever seen any of them up close. They were piling up against the doors and boarding up the windows. Faint shouts leaked out from the inside, along with pounding on the doors. In only a few passing minutes, the panicked sounds of knocking and yelling faded, and as quickly as the flood of people came out of the forest, they receded, collecting around the main entrance, which was facing away from him.

Morgan had said James would need to take out three people. Not a whole crew.

The temptation to desert while there was still time grew stronger.

He watched as the group of thieves began to abandon the back door and the windows, leaving only two people keeping watch out back. If he was right, in seconds, the three masked thieves would be rushing in to grab the egg. Their masks were compromised, but if they came out the side where about of dozen men were gathered, James didn't stand a chance. Diamond and Morgan probably didn't either at this rate.

He secured the bandana around his face, pulling on the knot at the nape of his neck. Underneath it, he'd shoved a handkerchief up his nose. That would have to do.

He waited until the guards glanced away, and then ran into the clearing with a sprint. The two left on guard - a man and a woman - saw him before he was halfway there, but he closed in quickly.

The woman pointed her gun at him and he swerved to the side. The man had barely drawn his weapon before James had jumped behind him and ripped it out of his hands. A sword. James thrust the pommel into the back of the man's head and let both him and the sword fall to the ground. The woman was right up beside him as he lost his human shield, and he dodged the swipe of her arm, bend down and then barreling into her. She grabbed onto him (expected) and he grabbed onto her, flipping her to the ground. For the half-second he had her pinned to the ground, he elbowed her in the face before jumping up, throwing open the door, and rushing in.

Billows of blue and purple smoke flowed out and filled the room. James held his breath, seeing light spill in from the opposite end of the shed and the shadows of three figures in the doorway.

He ducked.

A gun went off, and he didn't know where, but the gunshot rang out like it was outside.

In the shed, there was a table and chairs, people lying on the floor unconscious, a tall stack of crates, and a corner with a silk blanket over a large, round, ovular object. He was on the side of the crates with the silk.

For once in his life, he felt truly lucky.

Crouching to the ground, he ran to the blanket and bundled it under the egg, cradling it in his arms. He didn't have time to question if it was the real egg or a fake, and Clandestine couldn't be mad at him for assuming. But if the sheer weight of told him anything, it was very real. It was like carrying a person. Granted, a small person, but still a person.

He spun around with the egg in his arms and ran for the door. Another gunshot followed. So did a lot of loud cursing that he was not inclined to repeat.

He was running while holding his breath. It sounded so simple when Morgan had described it, but now it felt impossible.

As he flung himself out of the building, the woman he'd thrown to the ground was stumbling to her feet, reaching to grab him. Her eyes shot wide open when she saw what he was carrying, but he kept running, swerving out of the reach of her hands, but not the reach of her gun.

She shot at him. A bullet whizzed past him, and he finally broke. He took in a deep breath, practically gasping, hoping he was far enough away from whatever drug had been released into the air.

"Don't shoot the egg!" someone shouted behind him as he threw himself into the trees.

Yes. Don't shoot the egg. Or the man holding it. James didn't want to drop it.

James was struggling to keep a hold on the egg. Sweat was starting to make his shirt stick to him under his jacket, and his hands were getting just as sticky. If he'd been holding onto it without a blanket, he was pretty sure he would've dropped it already. It wasn't just the weight - it was the size, the shape, and the looming dread of dropping it, or the possibility that all his movement had already jostled the egg too much.

Clandestine might be getting a scrambled egg, not a healthy one. He wished she was there to tell him how to properly care for a griffin egg. She was more likely to know than him.

Another bullet whizzed through the woods, but it wasn't close. The shouting was coming closer with the breaking of branches and the crunching of leaves. He knew if he could hear it, they couldn't be that far away.

Stray branches were catching on his clothes, nicking him and his leather jacket and getting caught on his pants as he plowed through the forest. Were he not carrying such heavy and precious cargo, he could've easily avoided the forest eating him alive.

Which was apparently possible. He'd almost forgotten about the giant people-trapping plant from what, weeks ago? It felt like forever. The memory came and left like a leaf in the wind.

Elliot was up ahead, uphill, and boy was James regretting tying Elliot at the top of a hill. His run slowed to a jog as he struggled to scramble up the steep hill without tripping forward, or slipping, or any other number of disastrous things that could happen in a matter of seconds.

It was only then that he realized he had no idea if Diamond and Morgan were getting their side of the deal. They wanted a distraction so they could escape.

If him stealing the egg wasn't a big enough distraction, he didn't know what was.

After what felt like an eternity of precariously jogging up the hill, James finally made it to Elliot. He let out a sigh as he set the egg down by the tree for just a moment so he could untie the rope holding Elliot. Elliot looked a little miffed, flicking his tail and looking down the hill at the source of the shouting that was growing ever closer.

"Yeah," he said breathily, patting Elliot on the side. "I don't like it either. Now let's go."

James lifted the egg up onto his saddle, holding it with both hands, frozen for a second.

How was he supposed to get the egg up there without dropping it? It was too heavy and fragile to just tuck under his arm, and far too large to stick in his saddlebags.

He looked around, scanning the forest around them, feeling his jaw and shoulders tense up.

A rock. A rock would do.

He pulled the egg down from the saddle and clicked his tongue, nodding his head for Elliot to follow.

James wanted so desperately to run to the rock, but he needed Elliot calm and steady. By the time he'd stepped up onto the rock, he saw people at the bottom of the hill through the trees, breaking branches and wielding weapons.

All for an egg.

James pulled the blanket taut around the egg and gripped it firmly as he awkwardly reached his leg up over the saddle. Miraculously, Elliot took the cue and bent down a little bit on his front legs - which was both a blessing as a problem. James slid into the saddle securely, but the angle almost made him lose his balance. He squeezed the saddle with his thighs, desperately trying to keep balance as Elliot got back up.

Another gunshot. He felt something graze his back, but it didn't hit him, so he leaned forward, one arm holding the egg close and the other holding the reins, still with his elbow tight and close to the egg.

His pursuers were on foot. The moment he urged Elliot forward with a tap of his foot, he heard them get further and further away. Elliot wasn't even running as fast as he could - and most of that was because James was terrified of the egg slipping off if he did.

Finally, it was just James, Elliot, and the egg, running through the forest. He'd done his part. He had the egg. He was going to find Clandestine.

All until he heard a piercing shriek.

James's eyes widened, head jerking to the side to see a purple-feathered griffin prowling towards them, breaking into a run.

Terror shot through him.

He couldn't let the griffin pounce on Elliot.

"James!"

He looked ahead. Clandestine was riding up on Billy, worry painted on her face.

"Give me the egg!" she shouted, slowing to meet him. He instructed Elliot to do the same.

Side by side, he held the egg out towards her. Instead of just grabbing it, she hopped off her saddle and then grabbed it, running out in front of Billy and straight towards the griffin. James's heart stopped as he saw her stop and kneel, setting the egg down in front of her.

The griffin skidded to a stop, towering over her bent frame, its head curved down towards her. It was then that James noticed: one of its wings was bent and broken, feathers spattered with what looked like fresh blood. It looked beyond repair.

Clandestine ever-so-slowly pulled the blanket off of the egg, inching back from it before she looked up into its eyes.

For a moment, James thought the griffin was going to attack. It fluffed up the feathers on its neck and puffed itself up, looking down at her like it was ready to fight. And then Clandestine lowered her head again.

"Take it," she said.

The griffin stood still.

"Take it," Clandestine urged more insistently, taking one more step back.

The griffin didn't move, but Clandestine did. With careful steps, she backed away, still squatting down to make herself smaller. She was halfway back to Billy.

The griffin reached out with one of its enormous front claws, talons slowly curving around the egg like a hand. It bent its head down towards the egg, nuzzling it for a second before it turned around with a flare of its wing and darted off into the forest.

Clandestine fell back on her butt on the ground, staring. James wished he could've done the same, but his heart was still racing.

"We did it," Clandestine said. She was facing away from him, and he couldn't see her face, but he could hear it in her voice - she was relieved almost to the point of tears.

James blinked slowly, glancing around them. The forest was quiet.

"I have people following me," James said.

Clandestine didn't respond right away. There was about two seconds delay before she shot up from the ground and spun around to face him, looking at him over Billy's back. Her eyes were wide and her brows arched up in worry.

"James!" she said, almost shouting, before realizing the volume of her voice and lowering it. "Alex is in Ruddlan!"

James stared at her.

"He knows you're here! We need to go!"

Well he already knew that, but now they really needed to go.

"Come on," he said, tensely, tilting his head to the side and looking between her and her horse. She hopped back up on Billy, turning him around. She paused, stopping a little bit ahead of him, looking back. Her eyes dropped to his shirt.

"I think you're bleeding again," she whispered.

James looked down at his shoulder. Sure enough, the blood was leaking through. He'd reopened the wound. He didn't stop to think about why the blood dripping down his armpit had registered as sweat and the pain had been only a passing thought.

Adrenaline did weird things, but when Clandestine drew attention to it, the pain finally registered. Fantastic.

He snapped Elliot's reins. "Let's go."

But as he surged forward, several dogs started barking in the distance.