Chapter 17

Kidnaped

Sarah twisted in bed. It was nearly two in the morning, and she still couldn't get to sleep; the late dinner wasn't helping. She decided to do some reading-- if she wasn't going to be able to sleep she wasn't going to completely waste her time. When she switched on the light, she wondered momentarily if she should do schoolwork instead, since she was 'grounded'; but as usual, nobler instincts gave way to self-serving logic and she picked up her book instead.

War and Peace. One of those books everyone has to read at some time in their lives. Sarah had made up her mind to read at least one of the 'musts' every year; she had only barely made it last year, though, through Moby Dick, and if she didn't pick up her pace with W & P she'd only be halfway come December. She began reading, every now and then flipping to the back of the book for assistance: a sheet of notebook paper taped there was steadily filling up with a list of all the characters and their multiplicity of names. Hmmm...

The window bumped. She felt a delicious lurch of fear, the kind that only comes when you are tired and up far later than you have any excuse to be; she wriggled down into the covers and continued reading. But it thumped again. Odd.

She wondered if her cat was trying to get admittance. He usually cried, true, but it was possible. She clambered out of bed and shuffled over to the window-- no Lemon there.

Instead, something bumped the window again, right in front of her. She gave a muffled squeak and skipped back-- what was this? Maybe she should just leave the room.

The window gave a final metallic tink and the top half slid down, stopping just short of slamming into the window frame. She backed up to the door, wishing the drapes over the window would magically swing back so she could see what was happening without going to it. But as she waited, and nothing happened, she wondered if she was over-reacting to her messed-up old window goofing up again. What she needed to do was close it, go back to bed and go to sleep.

Yet she still hung back, very much hesitant about approaching the window. Maybe it would be best to get Father; if the window was broken she'd need him anyway, and if someone was trying to come in he'd deal with them.

She turned from the window and grabbed the doorknob. Even as she began opening the door, she felt eyes on her back and spun.

Legolas stood there, arms folded across his chest, regarding her with a totally blank expression. Wha... She drew a breath to scream, but with inhuman speed his hand darted over her mouth and silenced her. "Shh, Sarah, we must leave." She considered screaming again, running, kicking him, anything but...

...faint. Which, naturally, was exactly what she did.

--

When Sarah awoke, she knew instantly she was in a car-- and a rather furiously driven car at that. She cracked one eye open to see Legolas studying her, and snapped the eye back shut. Where were they going, what would he do to her, was she going to die...

What was that? Legolas-- Al, she reminded herself-- was saying something, but it wasn't in English. It was a soft, melodic sound, and somehow she felt calmed by it. His voice, just like on the bus, was like molten silver, and she dared to open her eyes again.

Al was sitting in the front seat, and when she shifted up a little more she saw he was speaking to the driver. He finished whatever he was saying, and the driver responded in kind. Sarah pulled her eyes off Al with some difficulty and looked around the rest of the car.

'Old' was the first word that came to mind. Al's seat belt looked about to fray in two, and one of the ceiling bulbs was missing. The once-nice leather seats were in equally poor condition: they felt dry and crackled, and foam was pooching up from the splits. And on the other end of the seat--

Sarah gasped. She wasn't along in the back seat: there was a figure sitting there. Although 'sitting' was perhaps too active a word when the mouth was duct-taped, the hands were behind the back-- surely tied there-- and the eyes were shut in unconsciousness.

She reached out a tentative hand and touched the figure's knee. "Don't bother with her," the woman in the driver's seat advised. Sarah jerked guiltily.

"I was only-"

"She just means there's nothing you can do," Al informed her, then rattled off a reproachful monologue to the driver. Sarah settled back and began reviewing the events of the night-- well, morning now... but she couldn't help casting apprehensive looks over at the other occupant of the seat.

She realized with a bit of a start that the figure was a woman and, more frighteningly, a police officer. Al and his-- his accomplice-- had abducted a police officer! Not to mention her, too. She tried to remember what the wisest thing to do in a situation like this was; every book she had ever read, every movie she had seen, agreed that she needed to cooperate as long as possible.

Well, there was one thing she could do that wouldn't get her in any trouble with her captors.

"Dear God," she whispered, barely moving her lips, "I pray that You would continue to watch over me, that You would give me strength and wisdom to deal with this situation-- that You would lead me to rely more fully on You, and wait for Your time and Your place to deliver me. I pray that You would help my family: protect them, give them wisdom and strength to deal with my disappearance, and-"

"What are you doing?" Al asked curiously. Sarah calmly opened her eyes, although she was a bit surprised Al had heard her.

"Praying. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Praying?" Al seemed oddly interested. "You pray?"

"Of course," Sarah answered, a little confused. "I'm a Christian. I pray."

Sarah realized she could put a name to the curiosity on Al's face: academic. He leaned forward eagerly. "Who do you pray to? I did not know there were any-" He caught himself and looked flustered. "That is to say..." He coughed and repeated, "Who do you pray to?"

She blinked, confused, then answered, "God."

"Ah... of course..." He appeared somehow disappointed. "The God of the Bible, no?"

"That's right." Now it was Sarah's turn to be curious; there was something about Al that just put you at ease. "Um... where are you from?"

A small smile crossed his face-- a smile like nothing Sarah had ever seen: sad, fleeting, filled with memory she had never guessed at. Then it was gone and he shook his head. "Europe."

She cocked her head. "I knew Europe was-- no offense-- somewhat apostate, but how do you not know about Christianity? It's only the largest religion in the world; well, if you count Roman Catholics..."

"I haven't been terrible connected to the world," Al answered. He was back to his previous utter self control, and he appeared to be finished with the conversation-- he turned away and resumed staring out the window.

"Where are we going?" Sarah blurted out suddenly. To her surprise, the driver was the one to answer.

"We are on our way to Duke University," she announced. Then she looked back at Al and began talking in that other language again, leaving Sarah to ponder her conversation with Al.

Who do you pray to? I did not know there were any-- that is to say... Didn't know there were any whats? Despite herself, Sarah plugged "humans" in for the blank.

Come off it, Sarah. They're not aliens... But then again... Pointed ears. Superhuman agility. Incredible hearing. Amazingly beautiful. What if they aren't human? She shivered in sudden understanding.

I am such an idiot! I even gave him the name of one of them-- She stared at Al, at his incredible features. She wanted to just blurt out "You're an Elf!!" but she restrained herself. He was likely to simply deny it if she tried that, and what if he wasn't? No, she needed to trick him into revealing it himself. She thought for several minutes; her experience with Lord of the Rings was limited to the movies a couple times.

Finally, she settled on the best thing she could think of, something he might reply to without thinking. "Did you know Gimli?" she asked, conversationally.

The two figures in front of her stiffened, then Al laughed-- a sad but appreciative laugh. "Very good, Sarah, and you've only known us for a single night." He turned to her. "Yes, we are Elves. I take it you are familiar with Tolkien?"

"Not really," Sarah answered breathlessly. It was true! He wasn't human! "Well, I've seen the movies, but I never read the books, but you were just too beautiful and too agile and-- and hey, what's your real name?" Al squirmed. "Oh, I'm sorry," Sarah gasped. "I've never read the books, like I said, and I don't know what's rude and isn't, and I've just broken a taboo haven't I? Oh-"

"Calm down, Sarah," said the driver, cocking an eyebrow at her. Sarah snapped her mouth shut on a thousand more questions. "Better. Now listen; we Elves are not like you humans, we don't have silly taboos and we don't get offended by mere questions. We have, however, been left to our own devices for nearly 10,000 of your years and being seen for what we are is a bit of an adjustment. If you paused for a moment and though you would have realized that."

"Sorry," Sarah said quietly, and she meant it. "I'm not thinking of you, I mean I'm not trying to think of you, as creatures or anything-"

"I should hope not," Al interrupted, amused.

"Shh, she's talking," the driver admonished him. "I understand, Sarah... unfortunately, you're likely in the minority in your attitude. Which is why we have no wish for the entire world to know of our existence." Sarah swallowed audibly.

"So you're going to kill me?"

"Goodness, you just said you weren't going to think of us as animals! Of course we aren't going to kill you." Sarah glanced at the unconscious police officer.

"We aren't going to kill her, either," Al put in helpfully. "In fact, we're currently working on an escape plan."

"Escape from who?" Sarah asked, confused. "Oh! Are there MORE of you? Are some of you captured?" She was leaning all the way into the front seat by now.

Al held up three fingers for her questions. "Yes, there are more of us-- nearly a thousand spread across the globe." He cocked the middle finger down. "One of us is, indeed, captured." A bitter look crossed his face, and he cocked down the third finger. "For your first question: we intend escape, not from any one, but from this WORLD." He lowered his index finger and looked into Sarah's eyes. "We don't belong here, Sarah, and now we're going to leave."

"If we can," the driver added grimly.

"Obviously. Now, you were asking for names; it's hardly taboo, as Malfinien said, it's just a bit of a shock."

"Malfy-who?"

The driver twitched slightly and muttered something in her language-- Elvish, Sarah supposed. "Listen, we don't have taboos, but we're not interested in having our language OR our names mangled, much as you wouldn't like it if someone mispronounced your name. Mal-fi-nee-en."

"Mal-fi-nen," Sarah repeated, then gulped. "Sorry, I'm not good at pronunciations-"

"Try again," Malfinien said, eyeing her. Sarah tried until she got it right. "Thank you. Now for you, Esgalmir."

"Esgalmir?" Sarah asked, understanding dawning. "That's why you said your name was Al!"

"Correct," he said, pleased. "And you said it right the first time; thank you."

"Only too glad to please you," Sarah replied, beaming. Esgalmir stiffened, and she shrank back. "Did I say some-"

"No," he replied tersely. From nowhere a dagger had sprouted in his hand, a wicked-looking tribladed spike that almost seemed to glow with an unearthly light. He was staring at the figure next to Sarah-- the policewoman she had almost forgotten.