Page 50 of Beyond the Storm
“A messenger? No.” His eyes narrowed. “You are not afraid of me.”
I shook my head. While the sight of him had been a shock, I didn’t fear him. I feared nothing, simply because I didn’t care enough about my own lifetofear losing it.
“A deep sadness lies within you,” he said. “A wave so strong I feel it washing over me as we speak.”
“I do not feel sad. I feel nothing at all.”
The winged man cocked his head, as if hearing something I couldn’t, then held out his hand. “Come with me. We haven’t much time.”
“Will you kill me?”
“Would it be of any consequence to you if I did?”
“No,” I answered. “I’m merely curious. The boys in my herd have beaten me until I bled, yet those wounds heal with ease.”
That seemed to spark his own curiosity. “Interesting.” His face turned toward the sky before he grabbed me. “We must be going.”
I didn’t resist as he picked me up and lifted into the air. Whether he intended to carry me to my death or toward a different life, I didn’t care.
Laconia was beautiful. My rare touch of joy had been when I’d walked past the olive trees, catching the distinctive scent of fruit from the small blossoms hidden beneath the silver-green leaves. But my fondness for the trees wasn’t great enough for me to fight to stay where I clearly didn’t belong.
“Sleep,” the man whispered, placing his fingers at my temple. “It will make the journey easier.”
As my eyes grew heavy, I closed them and focused on the wind whipping against my cheeks. Though faint, the smell of the olive trees mingled with the breeze. As if they were saying farewell to me too.
***
“Perhaps he’s dead.”
“He isn’t dead,” a different voice said. “He is breathing. Look.”
A pause. “Hmm. He looks dead to me. Should we poke him?”
“No,” a third voice chimed in. It was deeper but still boyish in quality. “You all remember how you felt when first waking here. Stand back and give him space.”
“The three of you are hopeless.” A fourth voice. It was silkier than the others but had a bitter edge.
“Go away, Daman.”
“With pleasure.”
“Do you think he’s hungry? We can find him some berries.”
When I opened my eyes, I found five faces staring down at me. One boy with big brown eyes and curly golden hair beamed with a smile. He was shorter than the others, with thin shoulders and a tiny body that lacked any type of muscle. Another boy had hair the color of a red apple. The third had wavy golden hair and eyes that seemed to change colors. And two of the boys had bulky frames that could’ve easily stood beside those of us from Laconia.
A sixth boy stood off to the side, arms crossed as he rested against the wall. He had dark skin and even darker hair. Though lean, toned muscle covered his body. Strength came in all forms. He might not have had brute strength, but I was certain he was swift on his feet and could climb trees with his long limbs.
Moving my gaze from them, I observed my surroundings. The room was almost too small to hold all of us. I saw a night sky beyond the small window, the moon so bright I could make out some trees and a field. Nighttime. The door was wide open, revealing a dark corridor beyond it.
How long had I been asleep? Hours? A day?
“What is this place?” I asked instead.
“A cage,” the darker-skinned boy answered.
“Do not listen to him,” the one with the changing eyes responded. “This is your new home. I’m Bellamy. The grouchy one is called Daman. He is nicer than he seems.”
Daman sneered.
