Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Then, blurry snatches of conversation.
…been searching for you…
…looking for silver-haired man with a woman and a goat…
Come with…your woman is of no importance to us…
Not to me, either, says Kalos.
Is it possible to have hurt feelings even if you’re drugged? I wonder that even as the blackness rushes in to sweep me under.
I wake up in a strange place. My hip and shoulder hurt from sleeping on my side on what feels like a stone floor, and I’m freezing. It’s dark, and my stomach is sour, even as it growls. I sit up slowly, and I don’t know whether to throw up or to lie back down again. I run my hands over my bed, and it’s little more than a thin padding on cold stone. There’s a dripping sound coming from somewhere. I run my hands over my clothing and hair. They’re slightly damp and wrinkled, but they’re the same ones I was wearing before I passed out. My shoes are gone, though.
“Hello?” I call out, and my voice is a mere croak. “Kalos? Dingle?”
No reassuring patter of goat hooves on the floor. No urge to sneeze. I’m alone.
Snatches of the conversation as I was drifting off return. Someone was searching for us. They noticed Kalos, or our goat, and realized who we were. Hot fear ripples through me—if they want to get rid of Kalos, they have to kill me. I’m in some sort of jail cell, it feels like, so this can’t be a mistake. I wrap my arms around myself and stare into the darkness. Do I call out for help? Or will that let my captors know that I’m awake and the real tortures can begin?
As if my thoughts summon my enemies, the door to my cell opens and light floods in. I shield my eyes from the light that floods in, shrinking back as a large, strange man enters the room. He’s got a tray in his hands, with an earthenware pitcher and a bowl on it. He’s in armor, and a man behind him carries a torch. Neither of them looks friendly.
“Where am I? Who are you?” I demand.
The man sets down the tray on the floor near the doorway. He points to it. “Eat. I’ll be back to pick up the dishes later.” He points in the opposite corner of my shadowy cell. “If you need the facilities, there’s a bucket over there.”
“Who are you? Where is…my friend?”
He ignores me, stepping back out of the cell. A moment later, the door is locked once more. I’m alone.
Well, fuck.
I try not to worry over Kalos—or Dingle—but I can’t help it. Are they imprisoned, too? Being tortured? What do these strangers want? My stomach roils again, and I crawl across the floor over to the tray and drag it to my bed, shivering. I lift the bowl to my nose and sniff it, but it seems bland. Hot but bland. Oatmeal, maybe? The liquid in the pitcher is water, and I sip it cautiously. It tastes a bit brackish, but it’s cool and my throat is so damn dry that I can’t stop myself from drinking all of it.
I figure if they’re going to poison me again, there’s not much I can do. Might as well eat and drink and try to keep my strength up. I eat all the food, too, though it has the texture of dry porridge and tastes even worse. When I’m done, I set the dishes back down and fumble my way in the dark over to find the bucket. I use it and shake the last of the water out of the pitcher to wash my hands.
The urge to cry is overwhelming, but I fight it off. I need a plan. I must find Kalos and somehow get us out of here. Next time the guard arrives, I can use the pitcher as a weapon and attack him. It sounded like they went down a hall, so I need to listen to the movements around me to try and mentally map this place out. I creep back toward the door and put my ear to it.
Even though I’m in this cell, I’m not defeated. Kalos must be nearby, because I can feel the tether between us. It’s a little strained, like a cord pulled taut, but it’s not painful. That means he’s close, but not too close.
Wherever this is, we’re both here.
Strangely enough, that gives me hope. We’ll reunite and get out of here.
My money pouch is gone, along with my makeshift weapons. I’ll have to get new ones. There’s the water jug, and then the piss bucket, maybe? I imagine slinging it at the guard when he arrives and distracting him. I didn’t see where he kept his key, though…and there were two guards. So do I sling the piss and check them for the key and try to get away next time? Or will they be on alert? Is it better to do it all in one fell swoop and hope I can escape before the guards regroup? I let the thoughts circle in my head repeatedly, planning out my attack as I sit in the darkness.