Basta (of course) was wrong. As soon as Dustfinger had woken up, he had begun to search for Farid.

He called his name so many times his throat grew a bit sore. But he knew he was taken.

Farid loved him too much to leave. And even if he wanted to, his fear of ghosts would stop him going five feet away from him.

After two hours of hopeless searching, Dustfinger returned to the clearing.

Why would any one take him? No one knew he was in this world. Well... at least he thought so.

He leaned on a tree, sighing. He was sure that last night Farid said it was Basta who had taken him.

But it couldn't possibly be him. Could it? He walked over to were Farid had slept.

Dustfinger was so worried about him. He felt as if he understood the term "worried sick".

He sat down on the grass, and buried his face in his hands. Running his hands through his long hair, he stared miserably at the ground beneath him.

He saw something. It was small and green. It would probably be nothing, but Dustfinger picked it up any way.

It was a leaf. A mint leaf.

His brown eyes widened enormously as he stared at the leaf, as if it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen in his life. "Oh my god, it really is Basta..."Dustfinger whispered "He's got him... but I'll bring him back"

Farid was awake. But he was pretending not to be.

His eyes were shut, and he was still curled in a ball. He was scared. Scared out of his mind.

He pretended he was still with Dustfinger, still happy, still safe.

Basta's terrible words still rang in his head. "You love him, but he doesn't care about you and he never will"

He felt sick, his throat was dry from lack of water and crying so much.

His stomach was screaming for food. Farid was lonely as well. He felt as if it was pressing agaisnt his body.

It was all he could do to stop himself bursting into tears.

"No matter how many times you say it, it won't make it true" He fought back a sob.

Come on Farid, get a grip! He told him self, trying to steady his breathing. You have to try something to escape!

Slowly, trying to cause as little pain in his back as he could,he pulled him self into a sitting position.

Farid dragged him self, using his bound ankles, to a sharpish looking rock.

He began to saw at his bounds, desperate for escape.

But no matter how hard he tried to free his bounds, they would not come loose.

He growled in frustration. Damn Basta! Damn him and his tough rope!

The boy put his hands between his feet and tried to pull it off. The result was exactly the same.

"This is not fair!"He yelled to no one in particular.

"No... it isn't really... but that makes it more fun"

He sighed. Basta.

"Well, for me anyway"

Basta crouched down in front of him, as if he was a small.

"Hmmm... you must be thirsty"

He brought out a green bottle from behind his back.

"And hungry"He also revealed chicken drumstick.

Farid stared at him coldly. "It's poisoned"

He shook his head. "Just water"He poured out some onto the ground. It was completely clear.

"You drink some then"

He expected him to object, but he smiled and said "Of course"

Basta poured the liquid in to his mouth, with out touching the rim.

"Convinced?"

He nodded. Basta knelt down and pulled Farid onto his legs so he was lying on his back.

He then put the bottle to his mouth, as if he were a child.

Although he felt embarrassed being given a drink this way, but if this was the only way to get a drink, he would take it.

Anyway, it wasn't as if he had a choice;it was either humiliation or death.

When the flask was empty, he fed him the chicken until there was nothing left but the bone.

He put him on the ground and walked off, with out another word.

Why does he always leave so suddenly? Farid asked himself, struggling on to his knees.

He looked after him wondering: What is his next move going to be?

Farid woke in the dead of night. He looked around him wildly, forgetting were he was.

His breathing was steadied as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He gasped as stab of pain shot into his stomach.

The pain grew steadily worse, making the boy curl into a ball.

Then, another dagger of pain was thrown into his back, making him yell and uncurl from his ball.

It felt as if every part of his body was being set on fire one at a time.

He lay on his back and screamed. Screamed into the black night.

He tore grass from the ground, tossed and turned, while screaming all the time.

He didn't know how long it lasted, but, at last, it stopped.

Farid lay on the ground, gasping for air. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks.

His whole body was aching and shaking. He couldn't move. He didn't dare to move.

He lay trying not to give in to sobbing his heart out. It would hurt.

Moving would hurt, blinking too much would hurt, thinking would hurt.

Ever since he had been taken away from Dustfinger, every thing hurt.