The Drifting (5 page)

“Because we
told
him
to take her
.”
 

I am up swiftly, Tazo ready in my hand.  I stare at the
black
wolf sitting quietly next to Julia. 
In a blink of an eye, o
ne of Tolan’s chains lashes out at the wolf, but before
hitting its target, the black wolf let
s out an impatient
“
woof
.”  The chain
flutters in the air falling to the ground in a sprinkle of
red londia petals
. Tolan stands stun
ned
as he watches his silver chains from
Odessa
settle
harmlessly at our feet.  

~ * ~

Chapter Three

~ Lily ~

Something cool is place
d
on my forehead, cooling the burning sensation coming from the back of my skull.  Cool liquid slips into my mouth and the fire
at the back of
my throat
laps
at it greedily.  Too soon does the sweet taste of water stop
and my throat constricts from suddenly being cut off from the wondrous liquid
.  I try to ask for more and I feel my lips move, but the dryness in my throat prevents me from making any sound.

“You’ll be al
l
right, child.  Rest, there will be plenty of time for questions later,”
her voice is as cool as the water.  My eyes flutter, briefly catching an old woman smiling down at me.  I know her, but I can’t remember where I know her from.  I feel her remove the now warm cloth from my forehead and replace it with a cool one.  I try to keep my eyes open, but a deep
darkness
pulls me under.

I wake with a start.  My throat is raw and it hurts to swallow what little saliva I have.  I try to slow my breathin
g while I gasp
for air.  I’m covered in sweat and I push the heavy blankets
aside
, kicking them off the bed.  A bed.  I’m in a normal bed.  No soft panther arm or mystical tree branch, just a regular bed with a mattress and frame made of wood.  I feel the damp sheets beneath me and I grab at the pillow
– r
egular sheets, regular pillows.  From somewhere
nearby
I hear the sound of dripping water.  I try to follow where it’s coming from and my eyes are drawn to the dim light coming from under a door
– a
door, a regular door.  Where the am I?

I s
lip off the bed, a little light
headed.  Looking down at my bare feet I notice for the first time the large, damp jersey shirt that hangs down
to
my knees.  I feel
at
the material.  It’s like the cloth Tharin had given me to wrap my boots in when we were back at
Crowfoot
Mountain
.  Running my hands over my
chest and hips, I realize
I’m completely naked underneath.  This is becoming a problem
– t
he whole waking up in strange places finding my clothes removed.  The face of my kidnapper flashes in my mind and my arms
instinctively
wrap around
my body
. 

I look around the room
,
and
through the darkness I make out large
curtains
at the far wall
.  Other t
han the bed and the small nightstand next to it, there i
s no other furniture in the room that I can see.  I glance back at the light from beneath the door and decide that I would very much like
not
to
find out who’s on
the other side. 

I turn toward the curtains,
but I hesitate for a moment looking down at myself.  I need to find my clothes; they’ve got to be
here somewhere.  I move toward
the small
night
stand and notice it has two drawers.  I pull the top drawer slowly, trying not to make a sound.  I hear clinking as I draw it open and find it full of small bottles filled with different colored liquid
s
and a few with what looks like colored powder.  I close it carefully
,
but
the clinking
rings
throughout the room.  I know the sound isn’t that loud, but to my nervous ears
they sound
like church bells.

The bottom drawer holds my coat
.  J
ust the sight of it makes me excited and fills me with relief.  I grab it and put it on quickly.  The familiar feel
of it
comforts
me, and a vision of Tharin holding me pops in my head
.  I sniff at the
collar and realize
it’s been washed…
the smell of the soap used is sweet and light.  Next
,
I peer under the bed for my boots, not there.  I move slowly along the wall and use it as a guide in the
dark
to find the far corn
ers.  I bump
into a chair and feel for the seat
..
.
n
othing
.  I check the far corners, but didn’t find any
shoes.  I head back to the bed and find a bench at the foot of it.  I feel along its smooth seat with my hand hoping to find my clothes, but
once again I’m disappointed
.  Damn it.  I sit down on the bench trying to think as I automatically pull my hair up and tie
it
into a knot down my back.  I look over at the curtains
again
and pray it is an actual window.  I stand to make my way over when I nearly jump out of my skin. 

The tap on the door was light, but I still catch at my chest.  It’s as if I’m trying to keep my heart from jumping out and running to hide under the bed.  The be
d! 
I’ll hide under the bed.  No, that’s what they all do in the movies, hide under the bed
– and
they still get caught. 

“Lily?” The voice belongs to a
n elderly
woman. 
It
sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.  She taps at the door again calling softly.  Taking the chance that she wouldn’t just barge in, I
hurry
to
the
small
nightstand
and struggle to lift it.  When that doesn’t work,
with some effort
I push it to the door using it as
a
blockade against the soft voice.  Standing back to take a look
I realize
the small drawer is a pathetic attempt
to keep
her out, and by no means
will
it
be a
challenge for the large elf.  It will have to do. 

I rush to the window, yanking the curtains apart to
find it locked.
  I peer outside
to see that it’s still light out and still raining
.  I reach for the window
’s latch
and see five locks running along the top of the pane.  It looks like one long piece, but I can see they
’
re
single
metal links shaped l
ike the letter “
S
.”
  Each open loop is hooked to the one next to it.  Quickly
,
I understand the key to opening the latches
and get to work
. 
Once done,
I struggle to lift the window up and with one final push, it opens wide.  Grabbing hold of the jersey to keep it from lifting up, I throw my leg over and
set
to climb out. 

“Hello, Lily.”  Her voice
is
just as s
oft as I remembered it at the mini
mart.  I stare in shock and amazement at the old woman who I knocked down and
who
then
gave
me the Manui statue.  She is standing in the rain with a large floating leaf hovering above her to keep her dry.  I look at her feet and note they’re not touching the wet ground
, but standing on a giant branch
. 
In fact, there’s no ground beneath her. 

With one leg not completely out,
I’m
so started
to find that we’re high up a large tree that my breath is cut off.  At the start of hyperventilating, I falter back, trying to get air back into my lungs. 
I lose my footing
,
falling
back
ward.  Along the way, I hit
my head against the w
indow
pane
and again when I hit the floor
with a thump.  I grab my head
, rubbing at
a
sore spot.  It’s a moment before I notice my
legs are up in the air
against the wall and the large
jersey
shirt has bunched
up
ward
exposing too much
– of everything.

The old woman sticks her head through the window, looking down at
me, “Tsk.  That’s not very lady
like, Lily.  Please, do get up and cover yourself.”

“I don’t know,” says
a masculine voice from the door. 
“
S
he looks pretty good from here.”

I turn my head toward
the voice to find
my kidnapper
le
aning casually against the door
jamb, arms folded
and
ankles crossed.  His eyes are s
taring at my bare legs and half-
exposed butt.  I yank
down
the jersey while pulling my legs off the wall.  I scramble to an upright position
,
tucking my legs under me
and pulling my coat close
.  I look first at the old woman staring at me with a smile, and then back at my kidnapper, his large frame too big for the small doorway.