Chapter 10
Everything hurts. She is lying on her back on a soft, wooly surface. Someone has removed her sweatshirt, leaving her in a thin tank top. A thick blanket covers her bare shoulders, protecting her from the howling wind.
Her memory is a gaping hole; she is unable to remember the last thing that happened. She had been in the forest and then…blackness. Emma attempts to open her eyes, but she feels as though she has no control over her body. She tries to sit up, but even moving an inch causes her body screams with protest. She gives up, lying back down, eyes still closed.
Mentally, she catalogues her injuries. Throbbing head. Concussion. Her left hand shakily reaches up and probes along her hairline, cringing as her fingers find a large bump. She finds that she is unable to lift her right hand or even wiggle her fingers. It has been immobilized in some sort of cast. But that's the least of it. Her entire body aches, as if she'd been run over by a truck. The searing pain that flared when she tried to sit up leads her to the conclusion that her ribs are broken.
Slowly, Emma opens her eyes. Adjusts to the dim light. The first thing she sees is the red awning above her. She is lying in what appears to be a makeshift tent. Through her foggy vision, she can see two figures standing outside, deep in conversation. Their faces are in profile, but she can make out long brown hair on one of the women and black hair on the other.
She struggles to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she can only make out scattered words and disjointed phrases over the howling wind.
"…no idea why she's back." One voice says.
Back? Emma wonders. That would imply that she's been here before, something that is most certainly not true. You'd think she'd be able to remember a previous trip to this strange land.
With one hand, she gingerly lifts up her shirt and almost throws up at the awful site. Just about her entire torso is black and blue with ugly bruises. There are strange marks, seemingly in the pattern of…a claw? Slowly, she flexes her ankle and winces. Painful, but not nearly as much as a broken ankle would've been. Probably just badly sprained. She cranes her head down, and sees that someone has bandaged it, as well as one of her legs.
Emma lies back down and lets out a groan of frustration. With the extent of her injuries, it could be weeks, maybe months before she could leave. Though whoever these people are have clearly taken care of her, bandaged her wounds, she does not trust them. She has no idea who they are and what they are capable of. For all she knows, they could be the cause of everything.
Suddenly, she hears footsteps approaching. Her eyes snap shut, though her ears remain on high alert, a trick she'd mastered after living in many foster homes. She struggles to keep her breathing even and quiet, trying to calm her pounding heart. She needs to feign sleep in order to buy time to figure out an escape plan.
Someone reaches down and places their hand on her forehead. "Still out." A woman's voice says.
"But it's been like 3 days." Another voice, higher in pitch, protests. Also a woman. This woman strokes her cheek. "Poor Emma."
Her charade of sleep is over as she jerks up. "How do you know my name?" She demands.
"You're awake." A face swims into her line of vision. Emma finds herself staring up at the face of a tough looking Asian warrior.
"Where am I? What happened?" Emma asks. "Who the hell are you? How do you know my name?"
The other woman, the brunette, looks at her friend uncertainly. "D-do you not remember us?"
"Remember?" Emma frowns, wincing as she does so. "I've never seen you before in my life."
The women exchange a look; a silent agreement passes between them. Emma struggles to read their faces, but they remain stony and impassive.
"Here." They step over and slowly help her sit up. A flask of liquid is pressed into her good hand.
"What is this?" Emma takes a whiff of the liquid. Some kind of tea.
"Drink it." The brunette says. "It'll help with the pain."
"Not until you tell me who you are." Emma wishes she could cross her arms for maximum toughness but that is out of the question.
"As stubborn as I remember." The Asian warrior rolls her eyes. "I'm Mulan and this is Aurora."
Mulan and Aurora? Emma repeats the names in her mind. Mulan and Aurora. For some reason, she associates those names with ogres, pirates, and beanstalks. But she has no idea why.
"What do you mean by remember?" Emma asks. "You're acting as though you know me."
"We do." The brunette-Aurora says.
"No you don't." Emma notices that Mulan is staring strangely at her. The Asian warrior appears to be contemplating something.
"Yes we do!" Aurora insists, her voice growing in pitch, visibly agitated. "We know your mother as well! You must've hit your head really hard. How could you not remember?"
"Wait what?" Emma stares at Aurora. "My mother?" Suddenly, she is intrigued. What do these strange people know about her mother?
More than Emma herself knows, apparently.
"Yeah she…" Aurora is cut off by Mulan, who claps a black gloved hand over her mouth.
"That's enough. We'll talk more tomorrow. Emma needs her rest." Mulan says calmly to Aurora. She turns towards Emma. "You should drink that. And get some sleep. We have a long journey in the morning." She throws a look at Aurora, who seems as though she is about to say something. But in the end, she follows Mulan outside.
Emma wants to protest that she doesn't need sleep, that all she needs is answers, stat, but she knows that it's no use arguing. She can tell from years of experience reading people that they are not going to reveal anything unless she complies with them. Emma lies back down tries to sleep, to relax, but her thoughts are whirling. By the looks on Mulan and Aurora's faces, they clearly know more than they are letting on. Mulan may have an excellent poker face, but Aurora does not.
She has been dying for the past 28 years to learn something, anything, about the people who thought so little of her they abandoned her on the side of the road like an unwanted couch. And now it looks like she's stumbled upon an untapped gold mine of information.
Maybe there is a silver lining to place after all.
Author's note: So for those of you who guessed Mulan and Aurora, you're much smarter than I expected.