The Little Lightning Girl

5- I've Been Captured by an Unhygienic Pillsbury Dough Boy

I woke up freezing. I was laying on icy cold concrete, my face aching and my shoulder out of place. When I felt a warm liquid drip into my mouth I realized that I had a head wound that was bleeding. If I was still bleeding this much, I couldn't have been knocked out for long. Less than a few hours since they attacked us. Us.

Where was James?

I tried to yell his name but my voice didn't come out as anything more than a hoarse gasp. It was then I remembered that I'd been screaming before, and that was why they'd knocked me on the head and thrown me into a wall, hence the dislocated shoulder and bashed-in skull.

Heaving myself into a sitting position was harder than it ever had been before and if I could have seen anything of the room I was in, it probably would have been spinning. As it was, I couldn't observe anything in my surroundings to tell me my location, I couldn't make out anything but vague shapes. I had better night vision than most people, and had always found darkness soothing, but this was the kind of total darkness that felt inky and thick. It seemed to engulf me and threatened to swallow me into its depths. It reminded me of the deepest part of the ocean where nothing could live.

I didn't even have to check to know that my wand and my sword were gone.

There was a wall behind me so I scooted backwards, placing my back against the wall. I'd expected it to be cold and concrete like the floor, but found tough plaster scraping my back instead. It seemed my shirt had also been a casualty in the fight, as my skin came in direct contact with the wall. Thankfully, my sports bra protected me somewhat from the cold that I could feel slowly seeping into my bones. I was grateful that my bra was intact, and simultaneously terrified that if I had been... attacked while I was unconscious, I would never know what they did to me. No one had ever taught me how to properly set a dislocated shoulder. I'd never needed to know before now. Grabbing my left hand with my right, I straightened out my aching joints, then slammed my shoulder against the wall and heard it crack into place. A flash of blinding pain roared through my body and I let out a strangled cry with what was left of my vocal chords. I could almost hear my mother scolding me for the badly set injury.

As I allowed myself to take in several deep breaths, I heard a quiet scraping coming from outside my cell. Next to it. Another cell, maybe? I scooted across the floor closer to the sound, it repeated. I pressed my ear against the wall, and heard a strangely patterned tapping noise. It was then that I thanked the gods I'd gotten so bored in elementary school that I learned Morse code for fun. Because the person in the cell next to mine was spelling out their name.

J-A-M-E-S.

As soon as the tapping finishined, I leaned against the wall and spelled out my name. I heard a heavy sigh from the other side, a sigh of relief.

Then, more tapping. I wondered briefly why he had learned Morse code, but didn't dwell on it.

Spelled my mouth shut.

By the gods. They'd spelled his mouth shut? For what reason? He couldn't do wandless magic. 

I flexed my own jaw and found that I'd received the same treatment. I strained to open my mouth but whatever this faintly glowing magic was, the blue band around my mouth didn't budge.

I didn't even know who these people were. I assumed they were death eaters, that was what the history books called the dark wizards, the ones who'd been followers of Voldemort. But Voldemort had been dead for over twenty years now... so there was no telling what these people wanted. 

As I reached to respond to James, I realized that both of my hands were wrapped in the same glowing ribbons, the magic chaining my fingers into fists. Figuring out the details of this magic would have to come later.