Chapter 3

Time crawls in this cramped cement prison. I manage to sleep in spurts. Only a tiny barred window above me denotes the passing of time at all. Through the narrow spaces in the bars, I can see the clear night with thousands of tiny lights sparkling, the moon standing proudly high in the sky. Even as bright as the stars appear, they aren’t enough to light my cell. I sit in complete darkness and strain to keep the shadow-like wraiths, or rayns, at bay.

Only slight differences in my environment remind me my reality is different from my nightmare. There was never a window in my nightmare, just a steel door that closed with a haunting finality. Sunlight never penetrated the deafening darkness of that room either. At least in my nightmare, my body was free to pace around the small box of a room as I saw fit. As soon as I was locked away, the bonds that gripped me were removed. But in my nightmares, there was never any doubt that my freedom was gone for good.

The Others made sure I knew only my death would free me, and even that choice they took from me. Perhaps reality is worse, not knowing what these humans plan.

I half expected to panic, to scream. I expected tears and shaking. Yet, I’m unnaturally calm. I’ve been here before, and I can weather it again. I’ll wait as long as I must until someone returns. Then I’ll demand to know why they brought this injustice upon me. They’ll realize their error, and treat me as an honored guest. I’ll have hot food and cold water. I’ll be given the best room and care, my wounds will heal, and my journey will begin once more.

In the midst of my outlandish daydreams, I miss the approach of a young woman. She unlocks the cell door and stands before me, holding a lantern in one hand. Her straight dark hair reaches mid-thigh, and her eyes are light—maybe blue or green. I can’t tell in the dim light. She carries a large object across her back and a small bundle in her free hand.

Automatically, my tired eyes zero in on the loaf of bread in her hands. My stomach rumbles and my mouth salivates. How long has it been since I ate bread? I know I’d last eaten proper at my village, but when exactly was that? The days all bled together when I was taken by Them.

What I wouldn’t give for just a crumb of that bread she has. If I ask politely, she might give some to me. But before my words have a chance to leave my open mouth, she whispers, “They’re going to hang you as soon as the sun rises.”

My mouth closes with a click, and I stare at her in disbelief. It snaps open again, but still no sound leaves my throat. I don’t understand. The hostile behavior, the restraints, the cell, the death sentence…none of this makes sense. I’m missing crucial information to explain their extreme reaction. 

“What did I do?”

She looks slightly sheepish as she states, “You entered town. The people in this town aren’t as… welcoming to your kind as other villages might be.”

And suddenly, I understand. The villagers think I’m like Them. My ears. If my hands weren’t currently secured behind my back, I would reach out to trace them. Even without seeing them, I know what they look like now. The tips are long, narrow, and pointed—nothing like the rounded tips humans have. And my eyes. My eyes shine with an unnatural glow, no longer their original blue.  Instead, the molten silver shines like a cerla’s in the dark. The two-tailed felines with saber teeth are fierce and free creatures, yet I’m trapped in this cage awaiting my death.

How could I have been so stupid? It never crossed my mind to hide my ears because up until this moment, I had completely forgotten about them. Then again, with everything that’s happened, I’ve only been concerned with immediate survival. All other worries were shoved to the back of my mind to deal with later. When later will be, I have no idea.

I can try to reason with them. I can explain what happened. The villagers will understand, I’m sure. No—who am I trying to kid? If they decided to execute me for my appearance alone, I highly doubt they will listen to something They say. These people will probably sooner gag me then hear me fumble through an explanation.

The other flaw to this ingenious plan is I can’t share my story. I refuse to let my thoughts wander to those memories. Not to mention the credibility of my story is shit. If it hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t believe it either. So, I’m fucked either way.

The woman shakes me from my mental ramblings, and I try to flinch away but get nowhere with shackled hands.  She is looking at me with concern, something I haven’t seen in so long. Why would this women care? How quickly the hope I had allowed to bloom inside my chest shrivels to nothing. How quickly my optimism turns to paranoia and pessimism.

“Are you listening? We haven’t got much time before the guards out front come back. I’m here to help you, but you also need to help yourself, I can only do so much. I brought some things to help you on your journey to Craforian. They’ll help you there, just tell them Lori sent you. You need to turn so I can cut the bindings on your arms.”

When I just continued to stare in confusion, she sighed quietly before reaching out once more.

Her hand froze inches from my skin when I burst out, “You’re helping me? Why? And what’s Crawforan? Why would I go there? Where is there anyway? Who’s there? And who the fuck are you?” I suck in a lungful of much needed and air, and eye her suspiciously.

She smiles at me. “Yes, I’m here to help you. My name is Lori and although human, I’m quite familiar with the talnarin. My recent return from Craforian, a town for both humans and talnarin, put me at odds with a very important man there. By helping you, I hope to gain favor with him once more. Your people are so wonderful and hospitable. But enough talk. I need to remove the binds and send you on your way. We don’t have much time.”

Well, isn’t she honest? I don’t see how helping me will gain this man’s favor since I have no intention of going anywhere near where They are. I definitely won’t tell her how much I hate those monsters she hopes to win over. I definitely won’t tell her what they did to me and my people. I definitely won’t tell her just what I think about her brainless opinions on ‘my kind.’ I need her help, desperately.

Besides, she just admitted to using me for her own gain. If I didn’t prove to be useful to her, she wouldn’t have tried to spring me in the first place. Wonder what she did to piss off that guy?

In a matter of seconds, the rope loosens behind me. I pull my arms in front of my chest and rub my wrist to urge the feeling back. All too soon, the uncomfortable pricks and needles stretch across my skin where the restraints left marks. I move to stand and falter. Still weak, my head sways as I attempt to stand once more. Lori reaches out to steady me, but I push her hands away. She looks disgruntled and a little offended, but I shrug it off.

Now steady enough on my feet, she silently backs out of the cell. She takes a series of turns that lead to a single door upstairs. I peek all around in search of guards but see no one. I’m about to open my mouth and ask, but quickly shut it. Now is the time for stealth, and I just need to focus on getting out of here while I can still stand.

We start moving again, still hypervigilant. Lori takes that last step and reaches for the handle. But before her hand touches the metal, the door swings open. Standing in the doorway is man armed with a sword and bow.

Oh shit.