In the Forests They Whisper

By Laura Celna

A two day hiking trek in the Tasmanian wilderness rapidly turns into a battle for their lives, as Carolyn and her friends are attacked by a gang of otherworldly, dagger-wielding bandits, known as the Hiragni. When Carolyn comes close to being captured by one of these assailants she finds an unlikely rescuer in Prince Lucian. He is the handsome and powerful ruler of the Grians, who allow her entry into their spell-bound, hidden forest realm where she is safe from harm. Being a nineteen year old university student, she is mesmerized by the culture of this tall, graceful race and their superhuman abilities. She soon learns though that there is a catch for her to regain her freedom. Grian prophecy states that she is the “chosen one”, the person who is to liberate these folk from their earthly existence by opening a portal which will allow them to return to their homeland. As Carolyn is drawn into the quest to fulfill this prophecy, she finds she must develop three special powers, as well as fight off the constant threat by the Hiragni and their enigmatic leader, Lord Mercurion. In the process she falls in love and finds a way to mesh her 21st century upbringing with the ancient traditions of this mystical race.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Laura Celna
• Release date: Dec 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311308733

Laura Celna

Laura Celna lives in Melbourne, Australia with her husband and two sons. She has been writing books for over a decade, mainly as fiction, but has recently penned her first non-fiction book. Her short stories have been published in local community publications but it is her aim to reach a wider audience, hence she is now publishing her books online. Her most recent book explores themes around meditation and spiritual awakening and is is based on the authors own experience as a qualified meditation teacher who has practised meditation for thirty years. This has radically changed the way she sees reality. Her aim is to help people bring some magic back into their lives and to find happiness and peace. Laura has been inspired by many authors in particular, Eckhart Tolle and Stephan Bodian. When she is not writing, Laura works as a scientist and a teacher.

Book preview

In the Forests They Whisper

by Laura Celna

Amazon Edition | Copyright 2017 Laura Celna

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 – Lucian

Chapter 2 – The Grians

Chapter 3 – Return to Corinna

Chapter 4 – The Prophet of Nemeron

Chapter 5 – The Ring of Nemeron

Chapter 6 – The Road Back to Tolomar

Chapter 7 – Peter

Chapter 8 – The Power of Foresight

Chapter 9 – The Gift of Healing

Chapter 10 – Perseus

Chapter 11 – Elderon

Chapter 12 – The Change

Chapter 13 – The Conjuror Returns

Chapter 14 – A Tentative Truce

Chapter 15 – The Portal

Chapter 16 - Gria

Chapter One – Lucian

‘Run for it!’ Those were the last words she’d heard before diving for cover behind a dense bramble of blackberries. Now Carolyn’s worst nightmare was unfolding as she sprinted along the dirt track that seemed to lead even deeper into the forest. Spiraling its way around an endless array of towering Eucalypts, this path was her only hope for evading her attacker. Her chest wall was heaving, her thigh muscles were aching but she couldn’t stop. Not yet. Not here.

The little voice in her head was getting louder.

If he gets you Carolyn, you’re going to die…

The sound of his boots thudding on clay made her feel sick to the stomach. He was gaining on her, his long strides outstripping her short, clumsy steps. As a patch of soft soil crumbled beneath her feet, she tripped. Crashing into a thicket of tree ferns, her hands grasped at the pointed leaves for an anchor. She mustn’t falter. Not now.

If he gets you you’re going to die, going to die, you’re going to die…

The voice inside her head had become a mantra, the words repeating themselves in rhythm with her tread. Stumbling and sliding, her legs danced across the fine trail of gravel that dotted the path. Desperate to widen the gap between herself and her assailant, she increased her pace. Fragrant leatherwood trees flicked past her face, their elliptic leaves clawed at her skin, but that was nothing compared to the pain he was sure to bring.

She could see his shadowy form lumbering behind her, the steely glint of his dagger just visible in the semi-darkness. The bandit’s black cloak swept through the trees behind him like a plague of locusts, hovering, then dipping and then whirring past at a lightning speed. She didn’t get a good look at his face, but she’d lay a bet that it was not pretty. Why else would you wander around with a hood on in high summer unless you had something to hide?

As the path plunged downwards, a fine spray of mist covered her skin. A waterfall roared in the distance and she knew the river had to be close. Glistening surfaces on mould-covered rocks and fallen logs framed the narrow passage.

The voice inside her head sounded desperate now.

Get away, you need to get away, find shelter on the far side of the river.

He was right behind her now - his wheezing gasps within ear shot. She could practically feel his breath on her skin. Was this damp, cold earth to become her final resting place? Not if she could help it.

Suddenly, the path forked to the left. A massive trunk loomed up before her, draped in tendrils of ivy which coursed their way up to the sky. Too late…she didn’t see the tree roots till she was right upon them. Falling hard on the ground, she winced as the pain shot up her leg. She reached out to grab a branch for self-defense but she wasn’t quick enough.

He was looking down at her now, coldly assessing his prey. Coal-black eyes peered out from beneath their hood. They showed no mercy.

As he lunged forward to grab her, her garbled war-cry echoed through the forest. Ahhrrrrrgh….!

Rolling over into the bushes, she made one last attempt to reach for a weapon…and she felt herself grappling with a smooth, leather-clad pair of hands.

Don’t struggle, said a voice. It was barely a whisper but enough to make her stop thrashing for one brief second.

A strong pair of arms scooped her up effortlessly and carried her through the damp underbrush. Who was this? Some new foe into whose grasp she’d unwillingly fallen? She could not see her abductor for he held her head, pressing it tightly into his suede shirt. As she lashed out at her captor and struggled to find her voice, in the background she could hear the hooded man groan. Through the corner of her eye she observed the arrow which now pierced his flesh, as his body lay slumped on the ground.

What’s happening? she croaked. Where are you taking me? But her voice was drowned out by the stomping of horses’ hooves as other men thundered their way through the forest.

Was this really some last minute reprieve or had she fallen foul to an even worse kind of predator. She shifted her eyes upwards but could only see the undersurface of a pale, narrow chin and a thin plait of blond hair draped over her captor’s shoulder.

Put me down right now! she shouted, mustering up a sudden burst of courage, but the man kept moving. Only on reaching the edge of the gushing Pieman River did he stop briefly, bringing his fingers to his lips. His high-pitched whistle almost deafened her and was followed within seconds by the sound of more horse’s hooves coming towards them.

As a white stallion galloped in their direction, she sought her chance to break free. With legs and arms flailing in all directions, she struggled to get away. But her captor’s strength was so great it was like kicking against a cast iron suit of armour.

Well over six feet in height, she knew this man posed a significant threat to her but what could she do? Reasoning with him seemed futile for she’d barely opened her mouth before he’d grabbed her forcibly around the waist and was lifting her upwards onto the stallion’s back.

Nooooo….I’m not coming with you! she cried, barely catching a glimpse of the stranger’s face before he’d planted her in the saddle and swung his leg around behind her. As one hand gripped the reins, the other hand held her firmly around her waist.

Let go of me you mongrel! she shouted. You’ve got no right to take me anywhere… Twisting herself away from him, she felt the clamp-like vice of his arm move upwards to cross her chest, pinning her in place. He squeezed her so hard that she could barely breathe, her shouts ending in muffled gasps as she struggled for air.

With a quick twitch of the reins, the horse descended down the river bank and was making its way swiftly across the shallow, icy water that swirled below them. They were moving so fast she could hear the wind moaning as it whizzed past them, whipping the full length of her hair back against her cheeks.

Where was he taking her? Why couldn’t he just leave her be? Good god, how could this be happening? Out here, of all places, in the pristine Tasmanian wilderness! It was the last time she’d suggest they go camping here. With a sinewy arm gripping her in its hold, she realized this could be the last time for everything if she didn’t get away soon. What must her friends be thinking? When she’d left the campsite they’d been fighting off more of the hooded bandits with broken tree branches. But what good was a tree-branch against a razor-sharp dagger? It would be her fault if anything happened to them…if they were to get hurt or worse. A lump settled in her throat as she blinked back tears and cast her eyes on the bush that surrounded them.

No more than a few metres across the river, the landscape had suddenly changed. The forest seemed denser here as silence descended upon them like a shroud. The Mountain Ash trees seemed taller and wider, their thickened trunks now spanning the circumference of a small house. High above in the canopy, she could see elaborate wooden dwellings, stacked up like packing crates with windows and doors and even chimneys with smoke coming out. Each dwelling had a staircase with railings spiraling down deep into the forest foliage. Many of these stairways were intricately carved with swirling symbols; a few of them were also lit up with tiny bulbs of coloured light casting an eerie glow through the dark forest. These rustic dwellings had evidently not just sprung up overnight for some of them were so densely covered in vines that it appeared as if someone had woven a carpet from leaves and draped it over them.

What was this place? Was this some sort of secret tourist destination? Maybe that tumble she’d taken had seriously damaged her senses and she was now hallucinating. But the suede-clad arm that held her firmly in its grasp was no dream. It was very real and the thought of what the owner of those arms might do to her once the horse had stopped was a menacing thought which her mind struggled to deal with. Would she ever see her friends and family again? Was her life to be so easily snuffed out after a mere nineteen years?

The rider reached a small alcove where the path swung away to the right. They rode amongst dense scrub for a while with pungent Mountain Pepper bushes swishing against their legs and the horse’s flanks. Suddenly, just above them, another one of these tree houses appeared. This house seemed small, perched high within a Stringy Bark tree – just a few dozen planks of timber strung together to form a box-like structure. It was the spiral staircase, which hugged the ribbon-like bark of the tree, which seemed most impressive. A complex arrangement of diagonal wooden struts it appeared to ascend into the heavens.

The horseman alighted softly on to the ground pulling her down with him. As he held her firmly by the wrists, she looked up into his face and studied his features for the first time.

She was stunned for he was not like any man she had ever seen before. His skin was the colour of milk, tautly stretched across his bony features. His chin and cheek bones, even the bridge of the nose were so precisely chiseled that he could have been a marble statue had it not been for the luminous, blue eyes that gazed down mockingly upon her. And the ears – well they defied belief. Large and delicately formed with pointed tips, they were like the ears of an elf from some childhood fairy tale. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had her pinned in his grasp she might have almost called him beautiful. She knew she should probably try to get away now, hoof it whilst she had the chance, but Carolyn was so mesmerized by his looks that all she could do was stand there and stare.

What kind of man wears his hair cascading down his shoulders in tiny woven braids – must be a hippie or some Rastafarian? But then hippies don’t usually wear a quiver of arrows on their back or sling a bow across their shoulder. Nor do they walk around wearing a heavily-embroidered tunic and green leggings, not unless they want to be laughed out of town. Who was this stranger and why had he brought her here?

But before she could ask him the questions on her lips, he dropped her wrists and spoke to her first. It’s a long time since we’ve had a human in Tolomar, he said, running his eyes over her disheveled appearance, pausing to stare at her titian-coloured hair. Other than a slight mocking tone in his voice, there was little hint of aggression. Fanella will give you shelter for the night and tend to the gash along your leg.

Looking down at her mud-caked jeans, she wondered where this gash was that he was talking about. Although her legs now ached from the running and were stinging all over from the scratches made by blackberry thorns, she was not aware of any one particular wound. But then she’d had far more pressing issues to think about.

He directed her towards the staircase. Traipsing up the spindly rungs constructed from tree branches, she marveled at what kind of universe she had stumbled into. Were these people some sort of greenies embracing a return to nature? But that didn’t explain the need for weapons and the reason for the costumes. Perhaps this guy was part of some weird cult that inhabited this part of the woods? Maybe that’s why he’d held her captive – she was to become a new recruit for his nature-loving, medieval cult. No doubt the women were forced to stay home and have babies whilst the men went out to hunt. God, she was going to love telling her friends about this, that’s if these people ever let her leave and if her friends were still alive…

The door to the grey, wooden dwelling was opened by a petite, plump, little woman. Her heavily lined face and ash-coloured hair were clearly a testament to her advanced age. Wearing a long, blue robe very much like that donned by olden-day nuns, Carolyn was relieved to see that she had normal ears and a very human-like expression of welcome. Come in my child. You must be cold and frightened. This is not a good day to go walking through the forest. Her smile enhanced the creases in the crinkly skin around her eyes, but there was warmth in her voice and for the first time in the last hour, Carolyn felt some hope.

As the man entered through the doorway behind her, the woman got down on her knees and bowed deeply before him, I am honored by your presence in my humble abode. She stayed there kneeling before him, a picture of subservience that seemed somehow incongruous given that the man was less than half her age.

Please Fanella, do not exert yourself, said the man, lifting her gently by the arms and helping her to her feet. I have brought this… he paused to study Carolyn’s slender figure, noting the slight curve of her hips …this woman here because I know not where else it would be safe to leave her.

But surely she has traveled far to reach this part of the woods? The elderly lady looked at Carolyn quizzically. She observed with interest her trailing, knotted, auburn hair, her lightly-tanned skin and her dirty jeans and anorak. What brings you into the realm of Tolomar? This place is not near any human kingdom that I know of.

What was the woman talking about? Sure, this forest was remote, but with spectacular walks and fishing sites it was becoming one of the most popular tourist destinations on the west coast of Tasmania, and it was only about fifteen kilometres from Carolyn’s home town. She’d never heard of this place called Tolomar and if these people weren’t human, then what the hell were they? Best to humour them she thought, especially since the tall, blond guy was now giving her a look that said confess up or else.

I was out hiking in the woods with my friends. Peter and Will are from Hobart and they wanted to see the Tarkine Wilderness so we entered the forest near my home in Corinna. I suppose you’ve heard of Corinna, it being so close and all? asked Carolyn, still wondering whether these people were even from the same planet.

Corinna…? said the woman. It sounds vaguely familiar – I think it’s on the outskirts of Palamir.

Pal…a what? God, this was even worse than she’d thought. They didn’t even know where Corinna was? How long had they been living in this isolated little neck of the woods.

The town you speak of is miles away from here, said the tall man. I’ve oft heard it mentioned by travelers who are passing through. The machines that they use, they are not of our era. I fear our kind would not feel welcome there."

Carolyn raised her eyebrows. Which machines could he be referring to? Perhaps he was talking about the old barge that was used to transport cars across the river. Did these people have no use of technology? It was scarcely believable given that these forests were becoming a mecca for tourists with their cameras and video recorders. Heck, even the tree-hugging hippies who frequented these parts owned a mobile phone and carried a credit card.

They both watched her expectantly waiting for her to continue her recount. Carolyn knew she better make it sound good, especially since she was clearly trespassing on their territory.

After one day of hiking we set up camp. We thought we were alone, but as the morning dawned and we prepared to resume our journey, we were attacked by a gang of men. They wore these hoods and were carrying daggers and frankly I was scared out of my wits. We all were. Well, whilst the boys tried to fight them off, Lily and Sue and I just scarpered. One of the men, he chased me for ages. I thought I could outrun him but then I stumbled and fell. That’s when you appeared and brought me here.

She looked up at her captor again, meeting his gaze head on as he looked down at her with an icy expression. His face seemed angry now. It was as if she had committed some grievous sin. But I do not wish to cause any trouble, she added shakily. And I promise to leave here at first light.

Do not look at her so fiercely Your Highness. You are frightening her. She is clearly unfamiliar with Grian customs, the elderly woman admonished him.

Drawing her aside, she whispered in the teenager’s ear. In Grian lands we never look at royalty directly. It is customary to avert your gaze.

Oh, I didn’t know. So this person, he is of royal descent? Carolyn asked with an incredulous expression on her face. Did the woman just say ‘Your Highness’? This whole scenario was becoming weirder by the minute. Perhaps one of her mates had slipped her some drug in her coffee by mistake and she was now delusional. It didn’t seem likely, but it could be one of those pink pills that Lily was always taking for her allergies. She pinched herself hard, several times, hoping it was just some dream, but no, she appeared to be wide awake.

Lucian is the Prince of Tolomar. He governs all the peoples of this realm just like his father did back in their homeland. Her tone was matter of fact, undisputable, like a phrase read out from an encyclopedia.

Carolyn’s mouth twisted into a puzzled smile. Did you say Prince? Perhaps he was like Prince Charming from the story of Cinderella, thought Carolyn. He probably had a castle and servants and whole treasure trove of jewels in the forest somewhere. She suppressed a giggle. This sounds like some fairy story. I can’t believe I’m hearing this. Oops, did she just say that out loud?

The woman drew her even further away from her captor, who was now looking at Carolyn with absolute contempt.

It is wise never to mention the word ‘fairy’ in these parts. No one ever calls the ‘little ones’ by their proper name if they can help it. This only stirs them up, and then they make more mischief. We’ve enough trouble on our hands with goblin attacks and now these bandits who are roaming the woods.

A smile curved around Carolyn’s lips as she nodded her head in mock agreement. Right…I’ll try to be more careful in the future. Turning away she suppressed another giggle, I wouldn’t want the goblins to get me. These people sounded deranged and the moment it was daylight she was hightailing it out of here. Fairies, princes and goblins, what were they going to come up with next?

The tree-house’s resident turned back towards the man and bowed again before him. Your Highness, I would be honored to take care of your charge. If it would be no trouble, may I request that a horse be sent down to her in the morning so that she can resume her journey in safety? I have heard many stories already about the Hiragni gangs, and fear she may come to grief on foot.

Certainly, Fanella, if it would put your mind at rest. He smiled, his eyes radiating such warmth that Carolyn could scarcely believe she was looking at the same person who’d greeted her so coldly only minutes ago. I’ll advise the stable hands as soon as I return.

Giving the old woman a slight nod of his head, he turned to leave. Farewell, I must return to my soldiers now. They’ll be wondering what has happened to me, he said and headed for the door. Then, as an afterthought, he swiveled around towards Carolyn and nodded in her direction as well. Good day, I wish you luck on the remainder of your journey. His voice seemed terse but his expression had softened now, his pale eyes looking at her knowingly, like they held some intangible mystery within their grasp. Without any deference to his royal status, she naturally averted her own gaze, not able to tolerate his penetrating stare for another second.

Still shell-shocked by this strange turn of events, she mumbled out a hasty ‘thank-you’ as he headed out the door. It seemed her captor was not the villain after all, but actually the hooded-one’s enemy. As she watched him disappear down the ladder, she wondered how such a man could have such superhuman strength. Sure he was tall and muscular but Carolyn was certainly no weakling. She’d not been able to budge from his grasp, not even a milimetre. The memory of those long arms and their vice-like grip would stay in her mind forever.

Completely flabbergasted she reached for a chair and sat down wearily. She wondered for the second time that evening what madness she had descended into, first the dagger-wielding thugs and now this.

The dwelling was not as small as it appeared from the outside. The room she was in housed a simple pinewood table and four roughly-hewn, wooden chairs. A series of cupboards lined the walls and in one corner stood a black, wrought-iron stove which radiated warmth in her direction. Beneath the window stood a small basin and a pitcher of water but there were no signs of any electrical appliances or modern gadgets anywhere. A series of large candles were strategically placed around the room to provide light, but that was all.

The woman looked at her kindly and reached into a cupboard pulling out a cloth and some form of ointment that smelled like oil of cloves.

Here I will dress your leg. It is not wise to let it go untreated all night. She reached for Carolyn’s left leg and pulled up the pants to reveal a long, open gash down her calf. Without further ado she applied the ointment to the leg, dabbing it to clear away the mud.

She winced. But how did you know my leg was injured, when I barely even noticed it myself?

Ah, but you are in Grian lands now. Did you not know that all Grians have the ability to see into the future? As soon as I realized the prince was bringing you here, I knew that you would have a wound that needed healing.

Carolyn let the remark slide. The whole Grian thing was enough to digest for the moment without figuring out how this woman could see things without even being there.

He’s not really a prince is he? I mean what’s he doing out there in the forest dressed in that outfit? She’d heard of people playing out their fantasy games in costumes before. ‘Dungeons and Dragons’ was what they called it, perhaps this was some version of the same role-playing game. But that didn’t explain the tree-houses, and the way they spoke. It was like they’d descended from medieval England. Was their language just a put-on, some cleverly contrived hoax to entertain unsuspecting tourists?

Make no mistake - Lucian is a genuine prince and the only son of King Mur, who was once the reigning monarch of Gria, their homeland. Until he can return there and reclaim the crown as his birth right decrees it, he must be content with ruling his followers here in this forest. She seemed mildly vexed as if this fact pained her. Seeing Carolyn’s look of astonishment she softened her stance. His favourite pastime is to go out hunting with his soldiers. I expect he was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him. We don’t get many of your kind in these parts.

Hunting in a protected conservation area? This whole set-up was getting better and better. And what did she mean by ‘your kind’? Sure she was wearing twenty-first century clothing, had tanned skin, and obviously looked nothing like the prince but what did they really expect from a hiker… a pale face and pointy ears? She was actually considered quite pretty by human standards, though no doubt a wide mouth and a pair of large, green eyes would seem incongruous around here, especially if all ‘Grians’ had perfect, chiseled features like the prince. Not that she cared right now. All she wanted was a good meal and a place to lie down.

As if reading her thoughts, Fanella put down the cloth and pulled down her pant leg. Now, you must be hungry after such a long journey. If you would like to bathe over there I will bring you a fresh gown to wear whilst I prepare some supper. She pointed to the basin and then she went into an adjoining room.

Carolyn washed her face and hands. Then she removed her jeans and cleaned away the remaining mud from her legs, taking care to avoid her wound. Sliding on the floral, silken gown that was given to her, she tied the sash around her waist and went to sit by the table.

As Fanella prepared some bread and cheese on a platter, Carolyn watched her with interest. You don’t look like the prince. Does this mean you are… not of Grian descent? She hesitated, pronouncing the last three words with wariness, still unconvinced that what she was being told was true and not part of some elaborate hoax.

Yes, I am a Travelgar, an uncommon entity around here I’m afraid. That is why I live on the outskirts of the city - so that I can avoid the stares. My mother was Grian, but my father was a human, what we call ‘a traveler’. We don’t get many travelers passing through Tolomar, because so few humans know how to get past our spells. The ones that manage to unravel our spells bring us goods from other cities, but they rarely stay long. I was born here, long after my father had moved on, so my mother raised me alone.

That must have been hard for her, said Carolyn sympathetically, ignoring the bit about Travelgars, Grians and their spells. How did she cope out here on her own? From the little Carolyn had seen in the fading light, this house was isolated from the others. Living here so deep in the forest must have been a lonely existence for a single mother.

My mother used to work for the royals before I was born, and that afforded her certain privileges. Although Grian are very suspicious of humans and even Travelgars like me can be taunted relentlessly, her royal connections ensured we were left alone. She died under tragic circumstances but by that stage my presence was tolerated by the town’s folk and I’ve lived here in relative peace.

Carolyn raised her eyebrows again. Grians, Travelgars…was there any truth to what this lady was saying? Rummaging through her back-pack she pulled out her mobile phone and tried Lily’s number. No response…the phone was out of range. The last time she’d seen her friend, she’d been running for her life. Carolyn fervently hoped she’d managed to escape to safety. Being a timid, nervous sort of girl she wouldn’t last long out in the forest alone. Then she tried her parent’s number. Same problem, there was no reception this far out in the forest. With zero chance of contacting anyone by phone, the best she could hope for was that one of her friends managed to make it back home safely to raise the alarm.

The old woman pushed a platter of food towards her and she accepted it thankfully. A whole day without food was not something she was accustomed to and the bread, although made with strange husky grains, was so soft and fresh it literally melted in her mouth.

Finishing her bread, she stifled a yawn. Totally exhausted from being chased so far, she could have fallen asleep right there in the kitchen, but didn’t want to seem impolite.

Fanella was obviously anticipating this as she got up to clear the table. I have prepared a bed for you in the next room. You must get some rest for you have an arduous journey ahead of you tomorrow.

Carolyn thanked her, and moved into the adjacent room. Sliding down between coarsely woven sheets she pulled the heavy woollen blanket around her shoulders. Tomorrow she would leave this bizarre place and try to find her friends. If she was in any luck, maybe the hooded guys weren’t genuine either, but just some role-playing actors. Even as the thought entered her head, a little voice inside her reminded her that the fear she’d experienced had been very real. Less than a half hour ago she’d been running from a thug who’d held a very authentic-looking dagger in his hands, and when he’d grabbed her, there’d been no humour in his expression; no jocularity in his dark, pebble-like eyes. Would he have taken her life right there and then? She didn’t doubt it!

Perhaps her friends had managed to escape this hapless charade. It was wishful thinking and she knew it. The last time she’d seen them, the girls had run off in different directions whilst the guys were fighting off their attackers using tree branches. Lily and Sue were not keen bushwalkers at the best of times and she didn’t like their chances of evading these bandits. However, Will and Peter spent most of their free time in the gym, so she was sure that if anyone had got away then it would have been them. For all she knew, they could be on their way back home already, which meant that a search party would be sent out for her immediately. With any luck, in a few days she’d be home.

As the image of the prince with his perfect face and golden tresses materialized in her mind, she pushed all thoughts of Grians out of her head. Tomorrow she’d get to the bottom of the reason why this place existed, and hitch a ride out of here. There had to be some sanity somewhere amongst this mayhem and she would find it. With that comforting thought drifting through her mind, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

Chapter Two – The Grians

Filtered beams of sunlight streamed through the window. She