I was so focused on the small drop of blood trembling on my wrist where she had stabbed me with something that she managed to catch me off guard with a shove. Before I could correct my footing, I stumbled to the side and was falling.
Thankfully, I fell out far enough to be in the trees. I reached out and caught hold of a large branch, slowing my descent before I let go and dropped onto an even larger branch beneath it. I held to the branch, ignoring all the small twigs poking me, and looked up. I could hear loud voices. Mistress Ildasan's voice rose above the rest in an undignified shriek.
"I am innocent, you fools!"
"We saw the whole of it," the guard called in a rough voice. "You're under arrest by the authority of the city guard. You'll have a fair trial, but we've got multiple witnesses here who saw the whole thing. And you'll have a nifty bit of explaining to do regarding that there potion of your-"
"Jenallia!" Remdon's voice called over the guard's lecture. "We are coming!"
"There is no safe way down here," I called back. "I am fine. Go down the path I showed you. I can wait. I will stay here, or meet you on the way. Just stay by the ridge."
"Are you sure you are well?" Anassia cried.
"Yes! I will see you soon enough!"
The voices all moved away and I rested for a moment in the silence before looking at the branch below me. I was about halfway up a tall, thick-trunked tree. I needed to climb down so they could find me. Then I could rest against the ridge.
I made my way nearly to the bottom of the tree before Mistress Ildasan's injection hit me. A wave of lightheadedness loosened my hold on the branches and I tumbled down, hitting a number of other branches on the way and landing on my back on something sharp.
I cried out in pain and slowly got to my hands and knees. I could see the ridge in my wavering vision. Before I could crawl to the rock wall, a low growl diverted my attention. To my left, a large, gray beast growled, baring a mouth full of sharp teeth. A ghost wolf, one of the most aggressive animals in the forest. I stood, adrenaline sharpening my vision and pushing aside the dizziness.
Turning, I began to run. I did not pay attention to direction. My only concern was "away, away, away." Somehow I managed to stay ahead of the beast, but just barely. When I heard the distant sound of water, I angled towards it, remembering from childhood stories that ghost wolves were known to hate water.
I reached the wide, shallow river as my vision was starting to fade again. Splashing through, I breathed a sigh of relief when the ghost wolf stopped at the bank, growling and snarling angrily.
I made it to the other side and crumpled to the ground, my feet still lying in the water as the world went black around me.
My feet were numb when I woke up. I dragged myself out of the water and collapsed in the soft leaves under a large tree. I reached down and carefully untied the laces of my black walking boots, then pulled them and my drenched socks off.
My wrist was no longer bleeding, but I could feel a sharp pain in my upper back, really on my left shoulder blade, where I had landed when I fell out of the tree. I reached back to check and my fingers came away red. If the adventure novels I was so fond of were correct, I would need to rinse the wound and bind it to try and staunch the bleeding. Thankfully, I was next to a stream and women's fashions provided a lot of extra material.
I looked around carefully to make sure I was alone before lowering the left side of my dirty, torn, gray gown. It was a difficult process, but I managed to get the wound reasonably clean before using strips torn from my petticoat to bind it.
Once my wound was cared for and my gown firmly in place again, I took a long drink of the cool, clear water and looked around. I needed to find my way back to the ridge.
I could tell from the dimming light around me that at least a few hours had passed. Remdon and Anassia were probably beyond anxious by now. I was not ready to put my wet shoes and socks back on, so I tied the laces together and draped the shoes around my neck with the socks tucked inside, then started carefully over the forest floor.
The years of accumulated leaves had created a soft bed on which to walk. As long as I was careful to avoid branches, my feet remained unscathed.
Unfortunately, I was not known for my excellent sense of direction. This was mostly because my sense of direction was quite the opposite of excellent. I wandered towards where I thought the ridge was, but after an hour of careful treading through the trees, I was quite lost.
I should have already reached the ridge if I were walking in the right direction. Since I had not, I had to assume that the ridge was not this way. I was not sure if I should adjust my course and risk travelling in circles or continue straight in the hopes that I might eventually reach something familiar or at least some form of civilization. Theoretically, even if I was not heading directly back to the ridge, I would still reach it unless I was so far off as to go around.
I decided to go straight, walking until my vision began to blur again. I was about to stop and rest in the hopes that I would remain conscious when a dark figure stepped into my path.
In a very familiar scene, I ran into him and stumbled back, saved from falling only by the muscular arms that pulled me against him.