Today was their chance…

Lily rolled herself out from under Jem’s arm and wrapped another blanket around her shoulders, before standing up and stretching her aching limbs. They’d left the fire burning through the night and a tin of water had been gently warming, so she poured the water into a spare metal mug with some more pine needles and juniper berries and wandered towards the mouth of the cave. On her way, she grabbed a hunk of bread from her pack and stood leaning against the cave wall, gazing out at the treetops, shrouded in fog and thick clouds. It had been a while since she had been able to just be still, quiet, thoughtful. She often spent her mornings back home under her tree, lost in her imagination. She valued those quiet moments more now than she ever had before.

As Lily stood there, she watched a peregrine falcon soaring and swooping through the low clouds. It danced on the wind, fierce, elegant, slight but powerful. It was a creature whose energy she knew she had to channel if she was going to survive the day.

Survive.

She had never thought about this as a matter of life and death; she had never allowed herself to think about any other outcome than them breezing in, taking Alice and Grace by the hands and swanning back out. But Alice and Grace had been kidnapped by ruthless, dangerous killers. Killers who, without a doubt, would slay her and Jem without a second thought. She could die before she made it out. Or worse, Jem could die. Alice and Grace could already be dead. She might never see Uncle Alf ever again.

Her heart quickened in her chest and her throat constricted.

Lily closed her eyes and tried to float away with the falcons. She imagined flying far above the treetops, gazing down at the raging rivers cutting their paths through the forests. She sat a while on a cloud to rest. But no matter how far she flew or how high a cloud she chose, she could not escape the storm on the horizon.

Even at this distance she could feel its fury, rushing headlong towards her. Just before it engulfed her, she felt a pain in her hands which ripped her from the intensity of her daydreams.

Shaking her head, she looked down at the source of the pain.

Her hands were covered in blood again, scarlet and shimmering, a stark contrast to the grey glow of dawn. She held them out of the cave and let the rain wash away as much of the blood as possible, gritting her teeth. Once her hands were rinsed in the rainwater, she tore off a strip of her petticoat and used it to wrap around her hands to dry them and stem the bleeding. She wiped her rain-drenched face on her sleeve and tucked tendrils of her damp hair behind her ears. The day was starting to break and she could deny the morning no longer. She and Jem would have to set out sooner rather than later if they wanted any chance of getting in and out alive in a single day.