It is especially real as I stand with a blade to my throat in the middle of a beach, surrounded by the Castaways, their weapons drawn and prepared to cause me harm.
As the future queen, my life had been filled with lessons on foreign relations and war strategies. If I tried hard enough, I could hear Edmond reciting them, lecturing me in survival tactics in case of an ambush or a mutiny. He made sure I knew the location of my safe room in the castle, and who to trust. Instructions on what to do if I was captured were repeatedincessantly until I was sure it would never happen, and the time spent on it was wasted.
The masked woman who searched me moments ago stands in front of me, digging through her pockets, and my eyes track every movement. I know the lessons I spent so much of my life hearing are somewhere deep inside my mind, but as she lifts a blindfold toward my face, my mind is as blank as a new sheet of parchment.
I remember nothing.
Not one lesson, not one piece of physical training that was drilled into me as I stand frozen, hands bound, and staring my dangerous reality in the face.
This isn’t the first time I’ve been captured on Dawnlin, but this is nothing like last time. My chest heaves with stuttering breaths as the rising fear threatens to suffocate me.
The first time, the fear dissipated quickly, the moment I realized it was actually Voyagers surrounding me, and I was in the midst of a huge misunderstanding. I knew I was safe, and everything would be easily corrected as soon as Dane returned.
This time, Dane is not returning, and I am not surrounded by Voyagers.
The Castaways are taking me captive, and no one once taken has ever returned.
“Let’s move,” Weston commands, and the statues around me snap into motion at his word.
“Close your eyes,” the woman says as she smoothes the rough cloth over my face, tying a tight knot at the back of my head and casting me in utter darkness.
With my vision gone, my other senses become heightened, and my focus returns. Edmond immediately appears in my mind, and I remember his most important instruction.
Quiet.
I need to be quiet and observe anything and everything about where I am being led, and who is around me.
My skin prickles as I feel someone hover over me, and I stiffen, trying not to move. Without my vision, I do not know who it is or how close they are until he speaks.
“Can you be trusted enough not to scream, princess?” Weston says, his low voice causing an involuntary shiver as his breath tickles my ear. “I have no problem gagging you if you try.”
Sealing my lips into a tight line, I don’t answer; I refuse to acknowledge him.
He doesn’t deserve it.
Dane warned me about Weston’s motives and manipulations back on my first day in Dawnlin. He wants the healing waters, and now I know where they are and how to get them. Another spike of terror shoots through me as I imagine the lengths he may go to for that information.
I do not know the amount of torture and abuse it takes to convince someone that everything they know is wrong, to turn them against their friends and the truth. Wherever they are taking me, whatever their plans are for me, I need to be prepared to endure it.
I gulp down the panic and focus on my breathing, remembering Edmond’s instruction to observe. I will endure everything else as it comes.
Shoulders press into mine on both sides as I am squeezed between two bodies, followed by fingers that wrap around each of my elbows to nudge me forward. I stumble at the sudden movement, but the Castaways at my sides hold me upright, almost lifting me to drag my toes across the sand. The complete darkness of the blindfold prevents me from seeing anything, with no clue where they are leading me, leaving me to blindly trust the enemies at my sides.
“Step up,” a woman says on my right, her voice the same as the woman who bound and blindfolded me.
I lift my foot and bring my boot down onto solid ground, then follow with the other, trying not to lose my balance despite their support. We take another few steps forward before pausing, and I jump at the loud slam behind us, followed by complete silence.
Gone are the crashing waves and rustling palm leaves from the beach, replaced by the shuffle of footsteps and sound of movement from the Castaways ahead of us.
“Keep walking,” the woman says softly, propelling me forward again with a gentle push of her shoulder.
I want to scream at her, to ask her why she is being kind and considerate to me, yet chose the side of a monster like Weston. I want to demand she release me and come back with me to the safety of Dane and the camp. I want to ask where she is taking me, and what they plan to do to me.
But I don’t.
I stay quiet, fighting the mixture of rage and panic inside of me, all while staying alert.
Footsteps echo around me, and the fabric of clothing swishes as I walk with them into the unknown. Someone clears their throat, but not a single person speaks. It’s almost as if they are trying not to give anything away, like they know I’m listening and cataloging every detail.
