DIANA

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Nothing's more gross than sweating until your clothing gets soggy, and having a layer of sweat caking on your skin at the end of the day. I would have killed for a shower, bath, a plunge into a lake or waterfall...

No use complaining or wishing for things I didn't have.

Under the dim light of lanterns, I got my first good look at our captors:

Part human, part owl, all roughly Hank's height, not quite six feet. Each bore traits of different owl breeds, Barn, Snowy, Screech and Great Horned, clothed very simply in breechcloths because it's hard to pull shirts over a big set of wings, or pants over bird claws. The Snowy appeared to be female, but she didn't have anything indecent to cover above the waist, just `fat pads,' so she dressed similar to the males. I'm guessing they fed their young by regurgitating.

The bird creatures muttered to one another as they examined our belongings, our magical tools, the water bottles, Presto's glasses. On a positive note, it didn't appear as if they intended to kill us.

Also on a positive note: Male company.

Straight ahead of me, I had Eric, who...would be cute if he could ever keep that dang mouth shut. Selfish, full of himself, spoiled by a rich family...honestly I could almost tolerate all that, but from time to time he's let some racist comments slip. Don't get me wrong, he's always apologized for them, but I don't know, can't really see myself being his girlfriend. Don't even know if he likes black girls.

Scratch that. Noticed how he looked at me between those bars. Maybe he'd become lonely enough to like anything with legs. Of course, whenever I caught him giving me the eye, he turned his nose up at me.

I faced the cell next to me.

Hank. Ruggedly handsome, more so after all these calisthenics we are forced to do every day just to stay alive. Of course, he was once the captain of his football team. I smiled and gave him a wink.

Hank smiled back, but then sighed and looked away.

I knew that look: Sheila. "We'll find her, Hank. I promise."

"You can't promise something like that. You don't know."

"Yeah? Well she's my friend too. We'll find her, or die trying."

He turned to look at me. "Thanks, Diana. That means a lot."

I sat back in the hay, glanced at Presto.

Honestly, loved him, but c'mon, man up and tell me how you feel. I mean, he probably didn't have the muscles to carry me over a threshold, but I think he's okay with the woman wearing the pants in the relationship. If only he'd say something instead of just stammering and giving me those puppy dog eyes all the time.

Speaking of which, his glasses.

As the owls played with them for a moment, the chunky female noticed him begging and reaching his hands through the bars.

"Hello? Do you speak English?"

She didn't reply. She only approached the cell with a dumb look on her face.

Presto pantomimed goggles, shielding his eyes from the sun, and an `I dunno.' "Could I have them back, please?"

The female laughed and pressed them into his hand.

I smirked as he pushed his glasses up on his nose. "You seem to have a way with women."

Presto gave me an embarrassed look. "Only when they're not human...like an elf or something." He leaned closer to my cage. "I mean, unless you're saying that..."

I sat up straight, wondering if he'd actually come out and say what he felt. I thought about jokingly saying something about him having a way with me, but I didn't want to just...give that to him. Being taken for granted wouldn't exactly be a good thing at this point.

Presto crumbled under my expectant stare. "Never mind."

Did I want to prod him along further? Was this really something I wanted to hear?

I rested my chin on my fist. I didn't actually want him to change, I just wanted him to...open up. But how? Did I have to be the one to make the first move?

He suddenly got up and shouted, "Hey! Don't mess with that!"

I frowned at the bird creatures in annoyance. The female had stretched out my magic baton, twirling it around like a majorette, the screech owl pulling a tube of Kraft Vegemite out of Presto's magic cap. "I thought our magic items weren't supposed to work when other people used them!"

Presto shrugged. "I guess it's not an ironclad law."

For a brief second, we gazed into each other's eyes, both silently daring the other to say something romantic.

"Unfortunately for me, that means I'm going to die!"

Presto's eyes bugged out. The glint of yellow energy on his glasses directed my attention back to the owls.

The barn owl had Hank's bow raised, drawing back the glowing string.

Hank pressed himself into the back corner of his cell.

"Correction," Eric remarked. "You're going to die, if that thing's aim is any good,"

When Barn created an energy arrow, he let out a noise like a caveman who had just discovered fire.

I thought I heard Snowy say "Churt, be careful!"

Excited, the owl let the magic missile fly, the bolt striking the bars on Hank's cage.

Sadly, not the locking part of the cell. The missile glanced off and set fire to a pile of straw in Eric's cell.

"Hey! Watch it with that thing! You're going to get us—"

Before he could finish the sentence, Barn's companions hurled buckets of sand and water at the blaze, and him.

"Great. Now I know what a sand castle feels like."

I chortled at the sight.

The screech owl picked up Eric's shield, turning it over in his hands.

Eric pressed his body against the bars, stretching his arms out as far as possible. "Hey! That's mine! Leave that alone!"

Screech slapped his arm down. "Bad!"

The owls spoke to each other in hushed whispers, something about Aslan.

The horned one showed Eric the shield. "This bears the crest of Aslan! Where did you get it from?"

"You actually speak English? What is this the first time I'm hearing you speak?"

"Because you're our prisoner." The owl tapped the shield. "Where did you get this?"

"A little bald guy in a red robe. Calls himself the Dungeon Master. You wouldn't know him."

The creature had a look on his face like that wasn't true. He waved the compass in front of him. "And what about this?"

"How should I know? I've never seen it before in my life!"

Horned Owl approached Hank's cell. "Who gave you this?"

Hank only narrowed his eyes. "What do you know about Aslan?"

"You're my prisoner. I'm the one that should be asking the questions."

"You rescued my friend, but you're keeping us in jail like we did something wrong. I think I'm entitled to some answers."

The owl leaned against the bars, his horn-like eyebrows pinching together. "Word to the wise: Entitlement is not a getting out of jail word."

Screech hacked up a puck of indigestible bone and hair. "What do we do with these guys?"

Horned Owl turned his head all the way around backwards to face his companions. "They're fine where they are for the time being...Did you just toss a pellet?"

Screech pretended to preen himself. "No...?"

"What about their things? They have weapons with magical properties."

"Let's bring them to Cordero and see what he says about them."

The owls departed with our stuff, leaving us under the watchful eye of a burly spotted owl.

Not much of a talker, that one. He just crossed his arms and observed us.

We sullenly stared back.

I shuffled my boots through the hay with my hands behind my back.

"What are you doing?" Presto hissed.

"You ever watch any westerns?"

"I try to avoid them."

I groaned and rolled my eyes. "I'll explain later."

The general idea: Find like a nail or a loose board or some other weakness in the cells, find a way to craft a weapon or sneak out through the floor or a wall. I thought about hiding myself along the ceiling near the door and jumping down on the guard when he noticed me `missing,' but not the type of jail where that would work. You could see everything in the cage.

"I never took you for a western fan."

"My dad used to watch them all the time. Admittedly not a great era for my people, with the Civil War and slavery and all, but that's not what great westerns are about. They're about stopping train robberies..." I pantomimed shooting guns. "Getting the bad guys and..." I couldn't say `jail break' because we were being watched. "Other stuff."

Eric scowled at the lock on his cell door. "Huh! Good luck on that...other stuff! I'm not holding my breath!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Eric!"

He acted like I'd complimented him. "Hey, don't mention it. Any time I can help...Where's Sheila?"

I frowned. "I...dunno."

"She didn't make it, did she?" He pounded the bars. "I knew that crummy lion was no good! He poisoned her, didn't he?"

"Actually, the water worked!"

"You don't have to lie to me to make me feel better. If he poisoned her, you can say so."

"He didn't poison her, Eric! She's alive!"

"Why didn't you just say that?"

I smacked my face.

Eric stood up, and without even being asked, launched into his story. "So...while all of you were dying of thirst in front of that thoroughly unhelpful lion, I went off on my own...I'm absolutely certain another stream feeds into that place, and the lion just used a magic spell to conceal it so it only looks like there's only one way to get to it. His fault I couldn't find water, really. I kept trying to find the way back around, but he's got all these plants and things set up to keep you out..."

"Seems to be doing a lot of talking for someone dying of thirst," Presto muttered.

"Quiet, you! Anyway, the way I figured, this Aislann guy cast the spell for a certain range, for certain weak minded individuals (not myself) to turn around and go back to him so he can gloat. So I kept going. I crossed a hill a few miles down, and way down on the other side, I did find a stream. Aha! Says I, the lion was full of it! Of course, the stream I found turned out to be kind of pathetic and dirty, so I didn't drink that much. I followed it up around the bend, and I'm sure I would have been able to find the back way into the garden, had that horned guy not jumped out of the bushes about halfway there and clubbed me over the head (he probably on Aislann's payroll). Yes, I had my shield with me, but I can't be expected to look everywhere at once. I assume you know the rest, having witnessed my heroic escape..."

"Yeah," Presto groaned. "I witnessed it, all right."

"Hey, do you know what Dirt Man means? The guy that kidnapped me muttered that a few times when he was tying me up."

I chuckled. "Maybe it's because you need to bathe."

"Oh hardy har."

We silently stared at the guard.

Presto made a laughing snort. At what, I had no idea.

"What's so funny? I want to laugh too."

He smirked at me. "I don't know. I was just thinking about my high school librarian, Ms. Shusher, and what she'd think about all this."

"Shusher? That's her actual name? You made that up!"

Presto shook his head. "It's German."

"Your librarian? You're thinking about that right now?"

"What? She's my friend! I don't have that many friends at school, and we talk about books and stuff. She saw me reading The Hobbit one time and clued me into Dune."

Eric snickered. "She? I didn't know you had a girlfriend!"

I briefly wondered why he didn't say "Other girlfriends." Did he...? I mean, was this optimism, or denial?

"It's not like that. She's old enough to be my mom!"

"You know what they say about older women."

"Hey, I don't go around making fun of your friends!"

I felt like saying something mean like "At least he has friends, Eric," but bit my tongue. I knew he didn't have any.

Eric raised his hands defensively. "Who's making fun? I'm happy you've found someone."

I spoke up in Presto's defense. "I think it's sweet. School can get tough sometimes."

Eric leaned on the bars. "Me? I'd take highschool over this place any day."

"You're right about that. I'm missing earth myself, especially indoor plumbing and hot and cold showers."

The door to the little jail came open again.

Horned Owl strode into the room with a set of keys. "Cordero wants to speak to all of you. He says it's important."

Eric propped his elbow up on the bars. "Then why did he send you? Why didn't he come in here himself?"

"That's just how he works."

"Sounds more like how he doesn't work! Seems pretty lazy to me, sitting on his duff while everybody else does his work!"

Horned Owl clenched his fists. "You take that back!"

"Or what? You'll set the tree on fire again? What would Mr. Cordero think about that?"

"Taskil," Spotted scolded. "Hold your temper."

Horned Owl's long bushy eyebrows squished down as he...scowled at him. "Go stand guard outside, Miktam. I can handle this." He pointed a feathery digit at Eric. "I'm letting you out last."

"Good! That means I won't have to smell your stinky breath!"

Taskil fake lunged at Eric, making him shrink back.

Miktam shook his head in annoyance, and with a disgusted grunt, stepped out of the jail.

Taskil marched up to my cage with his set of keys. "Have you ever known your friend to close his disrespectful mouth?"

I cast Eric a sidelong glance. "Generally when he's eating."

Beaks aren't very expressive, but I think I detected a smirk. "I think I'm beginning to like you."

The moment the owl had the door open, I kicked him in the ribs, snatching his keys away. "Sorry, Taskil. Friends don't throw their friends into jail."

To make sure he stayed down, I gave him a boot to the side of the head.

I hurriedly unlocked Hank's cell (because he's strong, okay?) then Presto and Eric's.

With my friends in tow, I cracked the door and peered outside.

A large wooden platform with railed-in walkways and rope bridges. I sucked in my breath. We had to be at least twelve stories above the ground.

Miktam and Screech stood guard on either side of the door. I could hear them talking.

"How are your wings, Miktam?" Screech asked his companion.

"Not so good. That last flight just about did me in. I think I'm going to need a lot of healing and rest before I can take to the air again."

I signed to my friends, indicating where the owls stood, nonverbally suggesting Hank take Screech while I clobbered Miktam.

With a crazy scream, I burst out the door, slamming my full weight into the spotty owl's body.

The moment we collided, the timber railings snapped off behind the owl, and we tumbled screaming over the edge.

Crack! The owl smashed through a tree branch. "I can't fly!"

"Yeah? That makes two of us!"