The Quiet Beyond the Well: Deleted Scene

Into the Night

As a reader, I always love a peek behind the curtain — author’s notes, annotations, deleted scenes, editor commentary, alpha reader reactions...

With Book 1 finished and Book 2 underway, I thought it would be fun to share one of the scenes that didn’t make it into the final version of the book.

In The Quiet Beyond the Well, we find Emer fleeing into the night after escaping from the keep where our tall, dark, and dour Sea Raven is holding her captive — in an earlier draft we are with her DURING her escape…

For those who have not already read TQBTW, the below may contain some spoilers!

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Once-Upon-A-Chapter 6:

She scrambled onto the bed and ran her fingers over its edges. Pressing against the glass, she felt hope begin to give under her palm. It only opened partially, revealing a dark courtyard below. Aside from the light cast from the moon, only a handful of torches lit the space, leaving most of it bathed in shadows. The boisterous voices of other knights traveled down a corridor to the left, sounding several mugs of ale into the night. The portcullis, framed by two torches, taunted her in the distance.

The gate was up.  

No one else in the keep knew that there was a prisoner that needed to be locked in, and with no official declarations of war between the isles, there was no one they needed to keep out. As she continued to survey the space, her eyes fell to the ash tree in the courtyard. Based on its size, she suspected the keep had been constructed around the ancient thing. Large, sure branches stretched far and wide. Branches capable of holding her if she managed to jump far enough to reach them. If her plan worked, she would escape the keep. If it did not, she would  at least escape the knight. Regardless, she would be in control of her fate, which was enough.

She recoiled from the window to where she had thrown her ruined dress upon entering the room. Ripping at the fabric, she tore strips of cloth from it and began wrapping them around her hands and up her forearms. As children, she and Finn had spent many days climbing trees in the meadow and she knew all too well the bite that the bark of an ash tree could leave. Once the fabric was securely in place, she tightened the laces of her boots and secured the leather pouch the knight had searched but returned. The lone piece of fabric was her only and most precious possession. Returning to the window, she pried it open as far as possible. It opened about the same length as her forearm. Thanks to the rather popular attributes that her mother had passed down and her love of all things made of dough, she would need to engage in some careful maneuvers to get through the opening without falling to her death. Climbing over the bed, she placed one boot on the window sill. Ducking down and twisting, she worked her head through. Then her shoulders. Finally, she managed to move past her chest. 

The cold night air kissed her face and the sea breeze caused the strands of her hair to dance. One hand clung to the crude metal of the window while the other grasped at the rough exterior of the keep wall. The darkness made it difficult for her to judge the exact distance to the ground. The knowledge would most likely only serve to shake her already struggling resolve. Mercifully, the year was growing cold and the tree had already shed its leaves, allowing her visibility to where each branch roamed and which would most likely catch her freefall.

Her doubt had become a tangible being, tendrils of dark creeping up from the shadows and growing closer with each moment she hesitated. She promised her father that she would do anything. 

So she jumped. 

In that space between the window and the tree, there was only Emer, her arms outstretched to embrace the darkness. A fleeting moment that was both romantic and terrifying. Lungs containing a held breath filled with hope and desperation, she fought the urge to close her eyes; doing so would guarantee her venture ended abruptly. The relief she felt when her forearms hooked over a branch above her was soon replaced by searing pain. The too-large tunic she wore slipped over her shoulder in flight, and the tree bark tore at the exposed skin. She winced as her arms clung to the tree while the momentum carried her legs forward. One leg remained dangling over the darkness while the other managed to hook around the branch. She grunted, adjusting her grip and kicking the leg that remained suspended to edge her way around to the branch's top. The bark ate at her fingers, her upper body straining to pull herself up and when she did, she collapsed.

Despite the pain coursing through her, she knew she could not linger. She might have escaped her cell, but she was far from free. Any moment a drunken knight could stumble through the courtyard and no amount of ale would cause them to dismiss a woman lounging amongst the branches. She began to work her way down the limb she currently straddled and towards the tree's heart. She hissed as a strong breeze swept through the keep, licking each wound with fire. She considered what Calder had said about scars and chuckled at the thought of the look on Finn's face when she told the stories of the ones she was certain to have from this.

If she got to tell him. 

The descent was nerve-racking. Every flame that flickered, sound that echoed, and shadow that shifted caused her heart to leap. She had thought the ground beneath her feet and the ability to run would bring her comfort, but she realized that it only meant she was now within reach of the men of the keep and they were far more terrifying than the forces that threatened to strike her from the sky.

Crouching down at the base of the tree, she peered around the courtyard. There was nothing in this keep that she trusted: not the quiet, not the darkness that had settled, not the stones of the walls or the birds in the sky. Clinging to the shadows cast by the high walls, she made her way across the space. She paused as her eyes caught the remaining glow cast by the forge and wondered if weapons might have been left unattended.  Her step forward was interrupted the groan of a door echoing down one of the nearby corridors. Pressing herself against the wall, she stilled her breath and crouched as a man emerged into the courtyard. 

The large form stalked across the yard until it disappeared down another corridor. Her eyes shot back to the forge for a moment, but a weapon would mean nothing if she was ultimately recaptured trying to retrieve it. No, her first priority needed to be disappearing into the night. To become a ghost to haunt the only person who knew she existed. It was not until she passed the portcullis that she even breathed. As she rounded the corner, she threw herself against the wall to collect herself and catch her breath. Her chest heaved, and the sweat that was streaking across her skin seared as it met the wounds on her shoulder. Despite the pain, she felt a smile tug at her lips. Given that Calder would be held responsible for not only his lie but for losing her if he confessed, she doubted he would raise the alarm now that she was out of the keep.

If he intended to hunt her down, he would do it without the help of his brethren. That thought kept her feet moving despite the exhaustion that was setting in. 

Wishing you Well

~Wren

P.S. Don’t forget to water your plants

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