Page 5 of Captive

Then there was a quick movement, and pain exploded through her ribs. She cried out and curled on her side to protect her stomach. Another vicious kick came, this time striking her shoulder. Panicked, she rolled and tried to get up.

A dark, heavy bulk climbed on top of her, holding her down. She punched and missed.

An out-of-place sound came out of the shape above her. He was laughing.

Furious, she punched again. He ducked aside, and she clipped his cheek before he caught her wrist and held it to her chest. She saw his other hand coming toward her an instant before she felt the hard slap across her face.

There was a flash of movement—his arm swinging toward her face again—and she flinched, trying to block him with her arm. More blows came, anyway. She shrank into herself, covering her head.

Once he was satisfied with the beating he’d given her, he held her down and pulled at the lacing of her pants. She went cold.

She hadn’t had a bad episode in months. She’d almost thought that she’d gotten it under control. What a foolish thought.

The Panic came back to her as if it had never left, horrible and all too familiar. She couldn’t breathe. Her skin flushed with burning heat. And fear pulsed through her. Every muscle in her body went rigid.

Everything was suddenly too close and cramped, and far away at the same time. Like it wasn’t real. Like she was outside herself. Like she’d died inside her own body.

She felt his hands on her, pulling at clothes. One of her hands remained pinned against her chest, and the other was pushing ineffectually against him. She should have been fighting him, but she couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. She wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

He was still smiling. Her distress was funny to him.

She became aware of a voice coming from the wagon. Serious reappeared beside them. She saw him reach toward the one on top of her. She saw Smiler look up, and she listened distantly as an argument broke out.

Finally Serious pulled Smiler off her with a jerk. Novikke took a shaky breath as the hands on her moved away. Her heart pounded a deep rhythm in her ears, and it was all she could hear.

As soon as the night elf was off her, a jolt went through her limbs. A primal command to move that could not be ignored. She scrambled to her feet and ran.

Someone shouted. A hand grabbed her arm. Something hit her head. Then there was only blackness.

???

She gradually awoke to the sound of voices.

She pried open her eyes, and her vision swam. A dark shape was in front of her. She flinched, remembering the pain from flying fists and feet. She was lying on the ground. The voices were becoming clearer, like cotton was being pulled out of her ears.

She’d been knocked out. Her head ached and she felt as if she might throw up. She got the sense that not much time had passed. It was still dark.

The face above her came closer, blurred at first and then clearer. The serious one. She froze. He frowned, then turned and snapped a string of complicated words to the other one, who apparently stood somewhere out of view. The hardness in his face and voice set her on edge. The other one’s response sounded equally irritated.

She swallowed. Her heart still pounded and her throat was constricted. The Panic hadn’t left her body, but it did not have dominion over her mind like it had before.

She felt so sick. She tried to lift her hands to rub at her temples and realized with a pang of misery that her hands were tied in front of her. There was a patch of stickiness on her hair and neck. Blood.

The elf’s eyes lingered on her face, as if checking for something.

The tiniest bit of hope rose in her. She was still alive. And he had protected her.

She tried to peer at the other one, but couldn’t move her head or eyes without everything spinning. She looked back at the one kneeling beside her. She didn’t like him. She didn’t trust him. She would have killed him if she’d had the strength. But at least he hadn’t kicked her and tried to force himself on her.

“Don’t let him,” she begged. She whispered it so quietly that it was almost inaudible, so that the other one wouldn’t hear. The elf stared at her. She couldn’t tell whether he understood. She thought something changed in his expression, but she couldn’t tell what it was.

But then he turned his attention away from her face. She tensed when she felt his hands at her waist, but he only removed her knife from her belt. He proceeded to dig into all her pockets and then search for hidden ones when he finished with the obvious ones.

Smiler approached. Novikke’s body was going tense again. Her breaths were tight and shallow. Serious noticed it and gave her a curious glance. How annoyingly perceptive of him.

Smiler was holding her bag, which she’d left in the wagon. He’d taken the letters out of it and ripped them open. If she wasn’t mistaken, he was reading them. Could he understand Ardanian, then?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his expression abruptly sharpen in surprise and anger. He looked up at her. Whatever was in that letter, he wasn’t happy about it.

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