by Mac Flynn
"Speak up, Lord Greenwood!" one of the spectators pleaded.
The old man straightened and looked over the crowd. "She has been chosen to join my house."
A stunned silence swept over the audience. The young man in the plain chair jumped to his feet. The woman, too, stood, and moved to stand beside him. She grasped his arm and quelled some of the anger in his face.
Lord Greenwood raised his hands above his head and smiled. "She has been chosen for my house, and as I am too old then the duty must fall to my only son-"
"I object!" the young man argued. His eyes swept over the room. "My blood wasn't placed in the bowl, you all saw that. There has to be some sort of sorcery at work here."
The old man whipped his head to him. "Whatever was done, the Choosing has chosen you a mate."
"I refuse her, and your stupid tradition," the young man growled.
Lord Greenwood stood to his full, tall height and his hands balled into fists at his sides. "You will do as tradition demands!"
The woman beside the young man released him and clapped her hands. "That is enough. Take the young woman to spare quarters and the matter will be settled later. For now we must get these other girls through the ceremony before they catch their death of cold in those filthy clothes."
The old man frowned, but gave a nod to someone behind me. I didn't have the strength to fight when two men grabbed my arms and dragged me towards the door.
"Treat her with more respect. She is one of us now," the woman commanded them.
The men bowed their heads. "Yes, My Lady," one of them replied.
One of the men scooped me into his arms and the other held open the door for us. We strode into the long passage and turned to the right. My hazy mind couldn't follow where we walked, but I did notice when the rock walls were replaced with ones made of white sheet rock. The floor, too, changed to hardwood, and the torches became light bulbs covered in clear white glass. The doors were still thick wooden portals, but they were now stained a ruddy red color.
The men reached one of the many doors and carried me inside. The room was furnished with a four-poster bed, dresser, and a door to one side where lay the bathroom. They set me on the bed and left me.
It was several minutes before I could gather my strength enough to sit up. My head spun and my arm ached, but the fire inside me was extinguished. I grabbed my arm and looked at the burned spot. There, etched into my skin by some invisible, heated scalpel, was a small emblem of a moon. The details were so exquisite that I could see the rabbit with the ball of rice. I brushed my hand over the spot and winced when my fingers stung my flesh with heat.
I dropped my arm and looked around at my new prison. The comfort didn't impress me. I focused all my thoughts on two things: escape from the room and helping the others. I didn't know if I could get them out of this strange maze of modernity and medieval-ism, but I had to try.
I slipped my noisy shoes off, slid off the bed and stumbled to the door. I'd only covered half the distance when the door swung open. One of the guards stood in the doorway.
"Get back on the bed," he growled.
"Make me," I snapped.
He stalked towards me, but I surprised him with a shoe attack. They both hit him square in the forehead and was enough distraction for me to dodge around him and through the open door. I raced down the hall with the guard in hot pursuit. The wood floors were well-shined which gave me an advantage. His feet pounded along the boards, but mine slid.
The area in which I found myself was a honeycomb of hallways. The passage was intersected at intervals by perpendicular halls, and those were connected to more halls. That meant a lot of corners. I grabbed the wall of one of the corners and slid into the new passage. The man wasn't so sharp on the corners, and he slammed into the walls more than once.
"Stop!" he shouted.
As if. I raced down the new hall only long enough to catch the next corner which lay thirty yards down the passage. Then I rinsed and repeated. Unfortunately, all my efforts didn't give me a foot more distance between us, and the guard actually started to gain on me. I needed a place to hide. There were the rooms, but I couldn't get the door open and closed fast enough to hide where I'd gone.
There were tall alcoves with statues and busts on pedestals inside them. Though I wasn't small, I wasn't so large that I couldn't squeeze behind one of the larger statues. I held my breath, and a moment later the guard swept past me and down the hall. He stopped at the next intersection and whipped his head left and right. The guard lifted his head and sniffed the air. He whipped his head around and his eyes stared directly at where I stood.
I cringed behind the statues as he marched back to me and stood before the alcove. "Come out. I know you're there. I can smell you," he ordered me.
"Then smell this," I snapped. I pushed hard against the back of the statue. It tipped forward and the guard put both his hands on the statue to keep it from toppling on him.
I raced around the statue and retraced my steps. At the first corner I whipped around and collided into a soft chest. I flailed and pushed against my new captor, but a pair of delicate hands grabbed my shoulders and held me still.
"I won't hurt you," a woman's voice spoke to me.
I paused in my struggles and looked up into the smiling face of the strange woman from the banquet room. There wasn't enough time to ascertain her sincerity before the sounds of the guard's boots rushed up behind me. He skidded to a stop and I glanced over my shoulder in time to see his eyes widen. The guard bowed at the waist.
"My Lady Greenwood," he murmured.
"It's all right, I will take her," the lady told him.
He raised his head and frowned. "But-"
"You may return to the banquet hall with an easy mind. I will accept any responsibility for what trouble she might cause," the lady promised.
The man pursed his lips, but gave a nod. "As you wish, My Lady." He strode past us and soon disappeared around one of the myriad of corners.
The woman returned her attention to me and released my arms. I jumped back and glared at her. "I'm not falling for any of your tricks. You're just the rest of the monsters wanting to keep us here," I growled at her.
Her smile widened. "Do I look like a monster?"
I had to admit she didn't. Her blue eyes were soft and full of gentleness, and there was a teasing quality in her smile that made me want to smile in return. She had her long, pale hands clasped in front of her and was patient as I studied her.
I leaned back and frowned. "I don't know, do you?"
"No more than you," she replied.
I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not a monster."
She tilted her head to one side and her eyes studied my face. "Are you so sure?"
I didn't understand her words, but my heart skipped a couple of beats. I wasn't too familiar with werewolf folklore, but my thoughts lingered on the bowl of blood from which I'd been forced to drink. "What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned her.
The woman strode past me and stopped ten yards beyond where I stood. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at me. "Come with me and I will tell you anything you wish to know."
I took a step away from her. "How do I know this isn't a trap to get me back into a room?"
"Would I save you from that guard only to lock you away myself?" she pointed out.
I narrowed my eyes. "I don't know, would you?"
The woman chuckled. "No, and I give you my word that this isn't a trap."
"And after we talk, then what?" I asked her.
She half-turned from me and her smile faltered. Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Then you will decide your future."
Part of me told me to run away from this strange, beautiful woman, but a larger part insisted I could trust her. I walked up to her and looked her in the eyes. "All right, I'll come, but no funny business."
Her full smile returned and she bowed her head. "Then fol
low me."
CHAPTER 5