With the warmth of the other body, Fiona began to feel her own limbs again. A cold burning sensation was painted on her skin like dark paint by the night and the mist. Increasingly, the mist gained substance, nestling against the small group and enveloping them like a cloak of soft clouds. Was it her imagination, or did his grip tighten a little, barely perceptibly? With each step, the shifting veils drew tighter, causing uneasy forebodings and a dangerous restlessness to grow in their hearts.
Fiona, too, felt the change in the air, like an evil promise, the sand dampened her steps, made the group slow down, and as much as she feared she had stumbled from one evil into the next, Fiona was actually glad at that moment not to be alone any more. The unbearable cold didn't get any better with the fog, the clammy fabric around her legs - pitiful remnants of once respectable craftsmanship enclosed her body in a wet, stiff embrace and made her more immobile. In this state, her chances of somehow freeing herself were increasingly slim. Fiona tried to run through her options in her head, forcing every confusing thought to concentrate, truly believing she would come up with a solution. But the harder she searched, the more often one question after another arose.
Where to if you make it? Where are you anyway? How did you get here? Who's going to help you? What if what's out there is worse than those men? And what if you don't survive on your own?
All around was blackness and headache, a deep resignation that only drove her burgeoning fear higher. Her eyelids closed briefly as Fiona slowly lowered her head against his shoulder and pressed her cheek against the fabric of his shirt. So close to him, the scent of herbs and candle wax became a little more intense. Mingled with this was a scent all their own, the worn clothes and salty nuances of the sea. From what she had seen of the other men, he had to be the most well-groomed. The stubble of a three-day beard was neatly trimmed enough to be recognisable as intentional, his tanned skin was clean and his hair was not unwashed. Here and there in the moonlight, she noticed the tiny shadows of small hubs on prominent features.
"Shh..." he murmured to her and stopped jerkily. (...) "Come on, to the ship at once."(Filou).
Almost in the same heartbeat, tension seared her body as well and in his arms, the young woman stiffened. Her gaze stumbled after his, across the surface of the water and into the dense white. Arms pulled her tighter and Fiona felt his muscles harden. With glazed eyes, she tried to make out something, more than the blurred shadow of small rocks. Then pale moonlight peaked through the veils and was lost in the hazy air down to the surface of the water. Fiona squinted her eyes... was there movement? So shiny and smooth, as if a fish fin had glimpsed it.
But it was too big to be a fish, wasn't it?
Fiona was startled to discover the shadow all at once, a pair of unnaturally discoloured irises staring at her through the mist. As if they were glowing, an intensity radiated from the purple that gave Fiona goosebumps. A pale moon turned the black sea into liquid silver and breathed something... aesthetic into the sight of this bizarre creature. Fiona straightened up a little in the man's arms, trying to make out more, but whatever had shown itself to them for a moment had already disappeared. Questioningly, her eyes slid back to him, then back into the darkness. What was that? murmured the soft voice of curiosity, a hint of interest that dusted her soul like fresh gold.
She couldn't stare for much longer, for the group's steps had quickened and they swiftly made the last few metres. At a small jetty, lit by a few lanterns with greasy candles and a pitifully flickering light, a dinghy waited untied and already lowered back into the water. The little bit of brightness was enough to illuminate her captors for the first time so that Fiona could at least partially make out their faces. Perhaps it would have been better if she had spared herself looking into the scarred features with wild eyes and scowling expressions. But she didn't know that and stubbornness, as well as naivety, made her turn her head slightly.
YOU ARE READING
A Neverland Tale - HOOKED (eng)
Fantasy** Only one thing can still prevent Neverland's downfall: In the dark times when a star's light perishes, a new one must be found! ** Neverland - a world in which simply everything was possible as long as you could dream it. But behind a shining lig...
