After an officer finds an unconscious boy dressed in medieval clothing and discovers he has no memories of where he came from, she decides to take him under her wing. She realizes quickly, however, that medieval clothing is not the only thing that m...
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My first sensation when I regained consciousness was a burning mouth that tasted like acid.
My eyes took a few moments to adjust to the small beams of moonlight stretching from the cracks in the branches above, and when they did I found my wrists and legs bound by thick, heavy ropes. My head felt light and fuzzy like I'd been drugged. I suddenly remembered a cloth being shoved in my face and I realized I had been drugged―by Athalos.
I shivered. For some reason I felt exposed. I looked down and realized my cloak was missing. Forgetting for a moment that my hands were pinned behind my back, I attempted to cross my arms over my thin ragged shirt to compensate. I struggled against the ropes, succeeding in only receiving a painful burning sensation from rubbing too hard against the ropes.
My eyelids felt very heavy, and with an effort I turned my head to look for Lancelot. Thankfully, a few yards away I could make out the dim outline of another bound figure.
"Lancelot," I whispered.
The bound figure managed to turn his head. "Merlin? Is that you?"
"Yes. How long d' you think we've been out?"
There was a slight pause before he replied. "I'm guessing several hours―it was midday when we were captured, and it must be only a few hours 'till dawn."
"Well, hopefully Ben and Alex are out of harm's way, but as for us..." I tugged at the ropes in vain. "We are in a slight predicament."
"Merlin, you're a sorcerer. Try using magic."
I frowned. "Oh...I suppose that could be helpful." I uttered a Gaulish command under my breath, but for the first time I didn't feel the familiar rush of power through my limbs. "Er, scratch what I said before," I said with a nervous laugh. "We are in a large predicament. I can't use magic."
Lancelot groaned. "We will need to figure out a way to get free from these ropes using other means, then. I haven't seen Athalos or Morgana, but I am certain they will turn up sooner rather than later. I'd rather be gone when that happens." I heard him wriggle and strain against his bonds, but they were futile sounds. "If I could only reach my boot―" he grunted, "―I have a knife...concealed in a tear in the leather―"
"I wouldn't waste your time, Knight of Camelot."
Athalos chuckled as he strolled leisurely from the trees. "I confiscated all your weapons, including your pathetic little knife." His dark eyes glinted in the moonlight as they turned on me. "You seem surprised your magic has been short-circuited, warlock. Did you think we wouldn't take precautions when dealing with a sorcerer?"
I screwed up my face into what I hoped was an intimidating scowl. "What did you do to us?" I slurred my words and I think a little drool rolled down my chin as well.
