Chapter 6: How to escape a kidnapping
The cart bounced like a drunk tap-dancer. Every jolt shoved straw deeper into my spine and reminded me that I was tied up, kidnapped, and worst of all... part of a failing circus.
"You're gonna love your costume!" Mordrek shouted from the driver's bench, not even glancing back. "Recycled goat leather and fake feathers! Sustainable and dramatic!"
"I'm gonna shove every single feather where the sun doesn't shine, you lunatic!"
But he didn't hear me. Too busy humming a painfully off-key circus tune while the wheels screamed in shared misery under the weight of his delusions.
That's when I looked around. There were cracks between the planks of the cart. Loose straw. Crooked nails. And the ropes... well, they were tight. But not invincible.
I rolled to my side, searching for the slackest knot. I squirmed like a ticked-off worm, grinding my wrist against the lower loop, teeth clenched.
Every tug burned. Every pull peeled a new layer of dignity and skin. But giving up? Not an option.
I'd already suffered enough humiliation at the hands of a man who looked like the patron saint of creative bankruptcy.
After too much effort, I felt a soft snap! on my wrist—one of the knots gave way. Fueled more by spite than technique, I yanked until my right arm came free. The left one didn't take long after that.
"You're still back there, right?" Mordrek yelled. "You're so quiet when you sleep. That's perfect for the mime-goat bit!"
With both arms free, I untied my legs, stood up, and in a blink, dove out of the moving cart.