Unwanted Reunions
When Numair had woken, he'd been surprised to find Daine gone. He knew that she sometimes wandered off in search of her animal friends, but she was usually so careful about making sure all her things were packed away. And if he was sleeping, or away when she left she usually left some sort of note or sign as to where she had gone.
But this morning there was on note and her bedroll lay tangled in a heap on the ground. Some how he sensed something was wrong. So, shaking his head to clear it of sleep, he stumbled back over to his pack to fish out his shirt and a new pair of breeches, his present ones wrinkled from rolling to and fro in his sleep.
Once he'd managed to properly clothe himself, Daine still hadn't come back. Numair looked around unsure. He had no idea where to start looking for her. Tracking was something that Daine always did, and he'd never bothered to pay much attention when she did. Now he was on his own. "Ok," Numair thought out loud, rubbing his hands in anticipation. "What's something that might indicate where she went."
But before the words had even left his mouth, he knew they were a false hope, Daine was to careful about covering her tracks to have left any sign behind. Then another thought came to him Focus! With a renewed hope he brought his hand over to his wrist. But his hopes were dashed yet again when his hand met only cloth on his wrist. Silently he cursed himself for forgetting that he'd left it on his worktable back in his room in the palace. Not wanting it to get dropped into the chemicals he'd been working with, he'd set it aside and it had been so late when he'd finished that he'd completely forgotten about everything other than his bed and sleep.
Shrugging his shoulders in annoyance, Numair decided that the only two options he had left were to [a] sit here and wait until Daine came back, or [b] go out and look for her as best he could. On the whole he preferred option b, as he'd always preferred action to laying in wait, and this morning he felt no different. So, shoving his hair out of his face, he started for the grove of trees to his left, which seemed to have the most sunlight, which would have made it logical for Daine to have headed that way.
Once he got there stopped and closed his eyes and listened. He heard a great deal of commotion up in the trees from the birds and squirrels, but other than that, he heard nothing.
Upon reaching the edge of the grove, he spotted something he could not mistake, Daine's bow. This was surely not a good sign. Daine's father, the god Weiryn had given her this bow, and Daine cherished it. There would have had to be a very serious justification for Daine to have just left it on the ground unprotected. Picking the bow up, he straightened and almost immediately tripped over something. When he looked down he discovered that the cause of his near crash was Daine's cloths. He bent over to examine the rumpled heap; he found all her cloths, her badger claw necklace, and underneath all that, a single steal feather.
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Daine opened her eyes when she felt her head hit something hard. When she lifted her head her vision blurred and she ached all over. Shaking her head to clear her vision, she found that only made her more dizzy and achy, placing her palms to her eyes, she steadied herself. When she felt more under control she looked up again, only to find herself in a damp, dark hall, and all around her large shadows began to sway back and forth.
Looking down at herself, Daine discovered that all over her body, blood trickled from shallow cuts, and bruises were beginning to form where the net had touched her skin.
As she looked up again she saw one of the largest shadows break away from the gloom and step into the faint circle of torchlight. The hooded figure stopped about three feet from her. Slowly he lowered his hood.
In the light with no shadows to hide him he was a sight indeed. Daine, shaken with shock, covered her eyes to block the hideousness that loomed before her.
"Welcome Veralidaine, I have been waiting for you." Daine's body trembled with every word, and it wasn't until a hand, or was it a claw, forced her head up, and she was made to look into the shifting eyes of Carthak's former Emperor, Ozorne.
Ozorne's head, neck, and hands, which were all she could see of him, shifted constantly between human and stormwing shape. Only his mouth remained the same and that was frozen in an evil grin.