Oathkeeper

Chapter 78: Captured

Ilizabeth expected to see the faces of Sharma, Oshen, Nelly and all the others hovering around her in shock, when she finally came to. She may not have been able to save everyone, but the wall had to have saved tens of thousands of people. It just had to.

Instead, when the steel grey hue of her irises returned to the surface she was staring up at the sky, surrounded by the frosty forest. She blinked through the natural daze that came from switching bodies. Her gaze traveled from the thin top of the frosted trees, down to the trunk which she hoped to cling to in resistance. Her back burned from the heat of the icy snow piling underneath her fur coat, and her wounded shoulder ached in every bump they hit. It took a while to form a clear thought, to realize she was being dragged through the snow by her ankles. The rope keeping her legs locked together was indeed alarming, but no more than the creature hissing as it clung to the other end.

Panic clumped at the bottom of her throat like clay, then she screamed until the vibrations broke through, "HELP!"

The sound ripped through her throat, seemingly echoing on for miles. It wasn't her brightest idea, but she hoped Uncle Jon and the Giantsbanes' were already in pursuit. That her cry would draw their eyes right towards her.

The creature turned abruptly, snapping its own neck like a twig. Ilizabeth thought their petrifying eyes couldn't get any more daunting until they grew wide and startled.

They began to collapse in Ilizabeth. Staring down at her with shifty eyes and ponderous expressions yet still nothing that would suggest just why all of this was happening. Her wondrous view of frosty-tipped trees, and clear cloudless skies had quickly shifted to five bald, scarified heads circling over her. The sun came through their semi-translucent skin. Lighting their purple twisted root-like veins up like a candle.

Ilizabeth flailed backwards almost immediately. She thought she'd crawl, backhandedly if it were her only way to get back to the encampment. But the creature yanked the rope, pulling her forward in a harsh hiss. Ilizbaeths mind raced to her pack and pockets. Although her arms were free to roam, she'd be stripped of all things she'd carried.

While the thought of fist-fighting her way out began to push to the forefronts of her mind, one of the other creatures turned its palm towards the sky. At first she thought it might have been a religious gesture, or maybe it was asking for a weapon to kill her with. But when the misty cloud of cold began to slither through its fingers she knew she was in the presence of something more like herself and dragon. Something otherworldly.

The sudden smog vanished, mysteriously revealing a crystal clear shard of ice from thin air. Its point was sharp enough to end her life in one clean stab. But instead of forcing the sharp object into her body, it broke off the point and crushedit  in between its solid nimble fingers. The tip of the cone had been broken down into thin, flakey fragments of ice, that were blown right over her face. Naturally she gasped, and pulled back. But it was already too late. The moment the ice had touched her skin she was sent into a sleepy spell she could not fight off. Ilizabeths limp body collapsed back into the plush cakey snow and the creatures continued to drag her north.

As far north as no living human had ever returned from.

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When Ilizabeth awoke from the depths of her profound slumber, a disorienting fog lingered between the realms of dreams and reality. The weight of what her body had endured continued to press upon her like an unwelcome guest, demanding she face it immediately. She did not scream, she did not dare make a single sound. Her lips were sealed and subtly blue as a result of her dropping body temperatures and the taste of her lingering soreness was as bitter as lemon.