The Hedgewitch WC: 1000

I hadn't slept much since I had been abducted, but it wasn't for lack of weariness. Still-wet paths of salt and tears blazed a trail down to my chin, and although it was uncomfortable, there was nothing I could do about it. My wrists were restrained in stiff cuffs of foreign material behind my back. My head felt disconcertingly light and cold, and each time I cradled it in my hands I felt a new wave of sorrow for my lost hair. There was left just a small layer of fuzz to cover my baldness.

The cube in which I sat was dim, just dark enough to reveal shapes, not details. It reminded me of twilight, and I collapsed into miserable reminiscing once again. How long had it been since I last saw light? Four days? Three weeks? There was no way to tell. I couldn't remember how many meals had been brought to me. Sometimes I was forgotten and lay in painful hunger until the door opened again. I missed the open air. Everything was cold. Metal, I thought, but couldn't be sure. The first and last time I had touched metal was the sword of our village. How Father had yelled when he heard. I missed his yelling too.

There was a hiss of something mechanical and a small square of light fell onto me. I shied away, finding the dazzling change in illumination too stressful for my adjusted eyes.

"Get up, hedgewitch," a voice commanded roughly. I hastened to obey, but I must have moved too slow, because a thin hand grabbed me in a boorish manner. A yelp escaped me as the movement jarred my sleeping limbs and the hand disappeared.

"Untie her," the voice instructed.

As my bonds were loosened, I tried my best to blink the stars away from my vision, but to no avail. As a hand pushed at my back, I could still see nothing more than white light interrupted once by the figure of a stocky woman. My feet and legs moved in a clunky fashion, so clumsy in fact that I managed to trip when my heel caught on a thread from the skirt I wore. I came crashing down, just about to hit the metal grill nose first because my hands remained secured at my back. Someone caught me by my shoulder, wrenching it something dreadful and again I cried out.

"Careful!" the woman cried agitatedly, and someone gripped my clothes. "No," she ordered. "Cut her bonds, maybe with all limbs free she won't be so much of a bumbling idiot."

I made no sound as my hands were freed, though it felt wonderful to be able to move them about again. They were chafed and burned, but I hoped I could fix that. Mumbling softly to myself, I circled my hands around my wrists, chanting the words of an old healing charm Mawmaw tried to teach me, but to no avail. All that appeared was a meager display of choked orange sparks.

"What is she doing?" the woman asked in angry alarm. "Make her stop that!"

Something cold and pokey pressed into my shoulder and everything just froze. For a moment I could feel my blood halt, my throat close up, and most of all, the already pathetic dribble of magic just stopped. My spine arched in something akin to agony and each of my joints popped unpleasantly. A shiver ran through me and I felt as if I should drop to the floor. However, frightened by the consequences, I kept myself upright with quaking legs.

"No... No magic," the woman said sternly. "Get her moving again. And hurry."

Again, there was a push at my lower back. Our group walked in silence, me trying anxiously to ignore the sores on my wrists for fear of further punishment. We saw no one else on our way, though I could occasionally hear distressed voices behind the doors we passed. The squarish tunnels we passed through were dim and cold, all made of metal. So much metal I had never seen. Eerie lights glowed in every nook and cranny. Our footsteps were the loudest sounds to be heard.

The last turn ended in a smooth circular room with a spitting blue ball of electricity floating in the middle of the room surrounded by a quartet of spikes.

"Power it up," the woman snapped to me, pointing to the globe that bounced lazily.

I stared back at her uncomprehendingly and uttered my first word. "...What?" My voice cracked as I did so and I felt my face warm.

The woman glanced at her partner, the bearded man who followed us in. "What does she mean?"

"She hasn't learned yet. We got her yesterday," the man replied in soft, even tones.

"Well then. You'll just have to teach her," she said brusquely. "She's our last one. We'll crash."

I looked at the man, fear in every curve of my figure. 'Last one?' I wondered in a panic.

"Calm, now," he cautioned with a serene expression. "Sit here," he said, pointing to a simple chair, fixed with four sets of tethers. A stroke of panic raced through me as he tightened the straps.

"What's happening?" I asked, a panicked tone falling into her voice. "Why did you take me?"

"For this," he replied shortly. "Put your hands here." With a firm grip, he took my hands, and as I watched him apprehensively, he impaled them upon a pair of golden spikes.

My scream echoed off the walls.

That is, until I realized there was no pain. I opened my eyes, and there was no blood either.

"Now just perform a light spell."

I shook my head violently and my voice came out a squeak. "I can't."

"You can," he assured softly, his blue eyes boring into mine.

Again, I shook my head. "I can't!"

From behind him, I heard the woman muttering to herself. "This wench will be the death of us all."