25/11/2008 19:04:00

I was trying to run, screaming, kicking, yelling, but I wasn't moving at all. I struggled to free myself of the invisible prison bars but they held fast and the skeletons just kept coming, relentless. I tried to scream for help but the cry was caught in my throat. Before I knew it,(1) the zombie-things had surrounded me. I gave a final kick and lay limp, defeated. I glared at my jailers, conveying what I thought of them.

"What is your name?" one asked, a gruesome fellow without any bone between his eye sockets. I responded with a shudder and attempted to turn away, only to find myself facing him again. Another corpse, this time missing a foot, scolded me, "We do not want to waste time. What is your name?" I glanced frantically around, looking for some escape, but to no avail. In my failure, I managed to murmur, "My name is John Mandrake."

This seemed to anger them, all three of them.(2) Thunder erupted around me, and bright flashes of light and heat flickered about. It seemed as though a great beast roared a battle cry in the distance. "That is not your name! Give us your true name not—" At this point they faded away. They just disappeared. Just like that.

After a short moment, I realized there was a quieter, calmer voice whispering in my ear. I had to strain, but I could just make out the words. "John, wake up. So much thrashing about is bad for you in this state. Calm down. Calm down." I gradually became easier to hear the strangely familiar voice. If I had had any breath in my lungs at the time, I would of sighed in relief. I had been dreaming.

"Urgh," I groaned. Why was I so sore, like I had just been blasted off a building by two marids imprisoned in a staff that had been struggling to get free for 100 years? I groaned again as it all flooded back to me. I felt that because I had been blasted off a building by two marids imprisoned in a staff that had been struggling to get free for 100 years. So then why, I wondered, am I still alive?

I cautiously opened one eye to see a very blurry world. I opened the other eye and after a moment my vision cleared and I discovered I was in a hospital room. Hooray, I thought grimly, my favorite place. I tried to turn my head to face where the voice had been coming from, but all I found out was I was in no health to be moving.(3) "Easy, easy. Don't try to move. You're hurt enough as it is." That voice again. He couldn't place that voice.

A face came into his view and he remembered immediately who's voice it was. "Kitty," he whispered, finding his voice quite hoarse and quiet. "Duh," she responded, "What do you have, a death wish or something? Nearly got yourself killed y'know. I haven't a clue how you survived." I let out a breath of disappointment. I was just about to ask why I wasn't dead. Instead, I thought up another question.

"I heard another voice, before yours. It wasn't you. Who else is here?" My eyes swiveled to the other end of my vision. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her face turn bitter and hateful.(4) Her retort was equally sour. "Your little magician girlfriend is here."(5) I heard an elegant snort on the other side of my hospital bed. I knew at that moment who else was in the room and all I could do was restrain another groan.

"Ignore her, John. She's just some commoner that claims she's a friend of yours." Ms. Farrar said the word commoner like it was the worst thing in the world. "If I were you," the sorceress continued, "I would send her away right now." I restrained myself from shaking my head. "No," I croaked. "This is a friend of mine. Kitty, meet Jane Farrar. She's a…" he paused for a spell, uncertain of what to call Ms. Farrar. Traitor? Friend? Government official? "She's an associate of mine. Ms. Farrar, meet Kitty Jones."

Before the unpleasant conversation could continue, a man entered the room. Undoubtedly a doctor and magician. "Ah, good, you're awake. I was worried you wouldn't ever wake up, for a while there." This scared me a bit, and I realized I had no idea how long it had been since Nouda had rampaged through London. However, I had no time to ask the question because he continued talking.

"I heard you had quite a fall. All of London has been talking about your near-death encounter. I'm amazed at the speed of your recovery. Most people wouldn't have woken up for another two weeks. At this rate, you'll be out of here in a month."

A month. That was a long time. I didn't even know how long I'd been asleep. Before long, the Empire's enemies would start attacking. Perhaps they already had. Who could possibly rise up to the leading position to defend the country, with Devereaux dead? A month was too long. I was getting out of here sooner than that.

I turned to Farrar. "Go get me some chalk."(6)

(1) Quite literally- I wasn't really capable of thought at the moment.

(2) Don't ask me how a skull can look angry. They just can, okay?

(3) In case you didn't infer this, I was informed by the sharp pain that shot down my spine. Ouch.

(4) Not that this was uncommon, but I thought I'd point it out.

(5) Since I didn't have a girlfriend, I thought this unlikely.

(6) Well, actually, I more of screamed out these words. Remember footnote 3?