Page 97 of Crimson Shadows
No Zephyr, no Corvus, no Ignatius or Zaiah. No one to swoop in and save me at the last moment like in the stories. This is real life, and in real life, sometimes there are no heroes coming to the rescue.
You are all you’ve got.
I’ve never felt so vulnerable, so utterly helpless, but I feel the surge of useless anger rising. Whatever is happening, whatever these Strix want with me—or better yet, their master—I have no way of fighting back. I have no powers to call on, no tricks up my sleeve. I’m at their mercy.
The Strix carrying me, suddenly banks sharply to the left, and my stomach lurches violently. I can feel bile rising in my throat, but I swallow it down with difficulty. Getting sick now would only make things worse, if that’s even possible.
We’re flying over a part of the forest that is thicker, more dense, visible in the thinning fog. The trees here are older,darker, their branches twisting in ways that are unnatural. There’s something ominous about them, as if they’re watching us pass overhead with ancient, evil eyes. An endless sea of green, stretching out to the horizon in every direction.
I try to shift, to relieve some of the pressure on my arms, but its talons only tighten in response. I let out a whimper, but it’s lost in the rush of wind.
“Where are you taking me?” I shout, my voice hoarse with fear and the effort of trying to be heard over the wind. But my words are whipped away the moment they leave my mouth, lost in the vast emptiness of the sky.
The Strix doesn’t respond. Of course, it doesn’t. If they even can speak at all, it’s not their job to tell me jackshit. Right now, they’re simply instruments of my abduction, silent and implacable.
I close my eyes again, trying to think past the fear and pain. There has to be a way out of this. There has to be something I can do. I refuse to believe that this is how my story ends—just as I feel it’s getting started—carried off by mythical creatures to who knows where, helpless and alone.
But before I can come up with anything, before I can even begin to formulate a plan, pain explodes in my head. One of the other Strix, forming a circle around us, has struck me with its wing, hard. The blow comes out of nowhere, sudden and vicious.
My vision blurs instantly, the world around me becoming a swirl of colours and shapes. Darkness creeps in at the edges of my sight. I fight against the encroaching unconsciousness with everything I have. I have to stay awake. I have to.
But it’s no use. The darkness is too strong, the pain too intense. I feel myself slipping away, my grip on consciousness weakening with each passing second.
The world fades to black, and I’m falling, falling into an abyss of uncertainty and fear.
As consciousness slips away entirely, I feel a strange sense of peace wash over me. Maybe it’s just my mind’s way of coping with the trauma, but for a brief moment, I feel... safe. Protected. Something deep inside me has stirred, awakened.
“Crimson…”
41
ADELAIDE
With my head throbbing,I wake up.
The pain is intense, pulsing behind my eyes and making it hard to concentrate.
Everything’s fuzzy. My vision is blurred, and I can’t quite make sense of my surroundings. The world seems to swim in and out of focus, making me feel disoriented and nauseous.
Where am I? I try to move, but something’s wrong. My arms and legs won’t budge. There’s resistance when I try to shift. Something is holding me in place. I blink rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but it’s like looking through a heat haze. The air around me seems to shimmer and waver, distorting my perception.
Slowly, shapes start to form, and the sharp scent of nature hits my nose. The smell of damp earth, pine needles, and fresh air fills my nostrils. Trees. I’m outside in the forest.
As my eyes adjust. I see stones. A circle of them surrounds me, their rough surfaces covered in moss and lichen. They’re large, taller than a person, and seem ancient. I’m in the middle of this stone circle, lying on something hard and cold. The surface beneath me is unyielding, probably stone as well.
I look around, taking in more details of my surroundings, and my stomach drops as the realisation sets in. There are five points, strategically placed around me. Metal glints in the low light, and I can feel the cold touch of chains on my wrists and ankles. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I’m chained to a pentagram.
Fuck. Fuck!
Panic hits me like a truck, a rush of adrenaline flooding my system. My heart rate skyrockets, and I can hear the blood rushing in my ears. I thrash against the chains, the metal biting into my skin. The pain is sharp, real. This isn’t a dream. This is really happening.
“Help!” I scream, my voice raw and desperate. “Somebody help me!”
My voice echoes through the trees, bouncing off the stone circle and fading into the distance. No one answers. The forest around me is deathly quiet. Just the rustle of leaves in the wind and the distant call of a bird breaks the silence. It’s as if the whole world has abandoned me.
I strain against the chains again, putting all my strength into trying to break free. But they’re too tight, the metal isn’t giving way. I can barely move an inch in any direction. The chains rattle loudly in the quiet forest, a harsh sound that only emphasises my helplessness.
“Adelaide, calm down.” Professor Blackthorn’s voice cuts through my panic as he moves into view on my left. The sound of his familiar voice in this bizarre situation is jarring. He’s standing over me, his face grim, his eyes shadowed. How did he find me? Why is he here? “You need to trust me, okay?”
