“This is the meeting stone,” Marren said, drawing my attention to him, “built by the Ancients—not just the Dwarves—though you can clearly tell who had a hand in what.”
He moved around the table to a chair with the depiction of a tree sprouting from the stone. Its trunk bent to make a seat and two branches reached out to form the arms. At the head of the seat, the top of the tree, rose a full moon, cresting over the leaves. Unlike the carvings in the marble palace I had come to call home, this one didn’t move. I frowned.
“Do you not like it?”
My eyes met his, filled with concern mixed with worry that thickened his voice. I said, “I love it. I thought the carvings would move like those on the mortal realm.”
He smiled. “Is that all?”
I nodded.
He pulled me into him and planted a kiss on my forehead. “This is the only place where magic can run free and do as it wishes. The carvings you saw back on the mortal realm are only mere enchantments to impress you and introduce you to my world. Here, those things aren’t needed.”
A snapping sound, like a branch being broken off a tree, sounded through the silence. Marren’s head snapped up. Everyone surrounded me. Below, at the base of a set of stairs in front of us, dark shadows shifted like liquid tar with a pale glowing line. Marren’s grip on me tightened. A growl filled his throat.
Panic filled me. I stepped behind Marren and searched the blackness, seeing too many things darting in and out, the thin lines of their auras blending together to form an unrecognizable moving mass.
Marren?
Stay behind me.
What is going on?
Stay. Behind. Me.
I clung to him, wrapping my arms around his torso and peeking around his shoulder at what seemed like a large group of dwarves. A blurring line of movement went beyond the group, drawing my attention as the lines skirted and moved with shadows dipping behind trees and thick bushes.
“The girl is going to come with us. Don’t be brash, Marren,” a deep voice spoke from within the crowd. Marren growled at the threat of taking me.
“You’ll come through me to get her,” Marren snapped.
A sharp point pricked the small of my back, forcing me to suck in a breath of surprise. Marren—
“Act like you’re going to do anything but walk down those stairs, I’ll run you through.” A woman’s voice, thickly accented and rough, with hard consonants and rounded vowels held enough warning and promise to make me listen.
Marren’s body stiffened like the trunk of a tree. My heart drummed harder, trying to escape its cage. I started to turn around to see who stood behind me when something slammed into my head, everything went black.
Chapter 13
Prisoner
The smell was awful. The dank sweet odor of something rotting mixed with piss, feces, and death. Every movement caused my stomach to clench. I opened my eyes to constant black. I had no way of telling how much time had passed since being knocked out. Something seemed out of balance, like the floor I lay on was slanted, yet solid enough.
It took some time for the pain to ebb, allowing me to sit and try to adjust to my surroundings. A dull ache filled my shoulder on the right, like I applied too much pressure to it for far too long, and now the joints, muscles, and nerves ached their complaints. A weight pulled on my ankle. The tips of my fingers searched for the item. An iron shackle with thick, heavy chains returned my touch.
That told me two things. One, whoever captured me did so aware of my strength. Two, there had to be a way in and out of here, even though I couldn’t tell where. Nothing was visible. Only black emptiness swirling with an inky resilience, despite the lack of light and surrounded me like liquid with the floor being a mix of stone and moist dirt.
That made me realize I wasn’t in my wolf form. If I was, everything would have an aura. Even when looking at my own self. I touched my face, and for the first time since changing into a werewolf, I was shocked by the difference, partially because I was still in wolf form and partially because I never thought to do so after the change.
I pulled myself into a sitting position with my knees against my chest and my arms, hugging them close to me. I rested my head in my legs, wondering what prevented me from seeing the aura. I thought I could use my thoughts to call out to Marren, since our private way of communication seemed to have an unlimited distance, but not seeing auras didn’t bode well. What could be the harm in trying, though?
Marren? Marren, where are you? What’s happened to me?
Nothing.