Beech - Legend of the Dryads, Book 2

Chapter 8

It was cold, damp and dark. The room was dingy, and not much in the way of furniture could be seen. A fireplace was positioned on the far wall, beyond the foot of the bed, but no blaze ignited it. The bed itself was uncomfortable, too.

With a pounding head, Fabien pushed himself up groggily to a half-sitting position. His head was immediately hit by a giant wave of vertigo, and he felt sick to the stomach as the unfamiliar walls surrounding him appeared to rotate around at dizzying speeds. Eventually, it stopped, and Fabien was able to get his bearings. Where was he? He wracked his brains, trying to find in his mind the last thing he remembered, but came up short.

From somewhere beyond the room and the lumpy mattress he had found himself on, a door slammed shut. Footsteps were heard ascending stairs, getting louder, coming towards him. Fabien shrank down into the blanket-less bed, knowing it would do nothing to conceal his prone form once whoever it was came storming into the room, but they never did. Another, much closer door opened and shut, but it was not the one that he was watching.

Fabien felt drained and weak, like his entire life force had been taken from him. And he was tired. So, so tired. Perhaps if he just shut his eyes for a few minutes more. Just a few minutes. There was no harm in that, was there?

"Have we found the girl yet?"

The voice came from what sounded like an adjoining room, but Fabien was so sleepy, he barely acknowledged it.

"Not yet," said another, masculine voice. A bell of familiarity rang inside Fabien's head, just briefly. "It's been three days, and I still haven't heard a thing."

 "Well, she'd better hurry up," grumbled the first voice. It was difficult to tell whether they were male or female. "We haven't much time left."

Fabien yawned. Who could they be talking about? Were they planning a family reunion? How nice. He stretched and rolled over to face the other side.

"You know, I'm still not convinced this plan is going to work," said the voice again. Male. It had to be male.

"It had better work, or the boss will wring both our bloody necks!"

Wring, thought Fabien. Isn't that a funny word? Sounds like ring, but it has a W.

"She will come," assured the other voice, his tone insistent. "She'll come for him."

"Him?" The other one sounded sceptical. "Are you sure? I don't think..."

"Listen, you imbecile," he raised his voice again, "The boss is never wrong. She told us the girl will come and find him."

A girl who would risk her neck for some guy?  Fabien mused again, That's sweet.

"What about the boy?" asked the ever cynical one. "What do we do with him?"