I don't like the thought of leaving Roth, but I need to get out of here. So before the creepy elf can reach me, I spring up and start running along the path to the village. A chilling laugh echoes behind me, but I don't dare look back to check if I'm being pursued.

A second black-clad figure steps out from behind a tree and blocks the path ahead. Running flat out, I narrowly avoid a collision and at the last moment dart sideways, off of the path and into the trees.

A third figure appears and forces me to go deeper into the forest. I urge my muscles to go even faster, dodging between the trees and trying to avoid grasping branches and snagging brambles. I feel just like prey being herded by wolves.

I adjust my course, heading back towards where the village should be. There is no obvious noise to indicate pursuit, although the sound of my breathing and my feet crunching over twigs and leaves seems abnormally loud to my ears.

At last the distant lights of the village come into view and the sight gives me hope that safety is at last within reach. Risking a look backwards, I cannot see anyone, though it is too dark amongst the trees.

Just as I am turning my head back, I crash into a hard object and rebound off, falling backwards. I land on the ground and lay there winded, temporarily unable to move.

A dark shadow falls over me. The first elf comes into view and there is a triumphant look upon his face. My position is too vulnerable, so I scramble backwards, trying to put off the inevitable.

He simply keeps pace and then his eyes flicker upwards. I glance over my shoulder and all hope of escape dies at the sight of the other two figures standing there each with an arrow trained on me.

The first elf pounces. Sitting astride me, he leans over and pins my wrists above my head; I am snared like a fly in a spider's web.

"Were you not taught the folly of running from a dark elf?" He bends even closer, his mouth by my ear and taunts, "I would take my prize, but you are meant for my Lord."

A dark elf! Like the one that attacked me several moons ago. I buck beneath his weight and shout hoping to attract attention, "HELP! Please someone. HELP!"

He is far too strong and manages to shackle both of my wrist in one of his hands. Then with his free hand, he brandishes a dagger. The flat of the metal blade traces down my face and rest on my lips, its cold menace stilling my movements.

"Take care with your words, lest you lose your tongue," he hisses.

He pulls back, no longer needing to restrain me, having rendered me rigid with fear. The blade continues its journey down my chin, neck, collarbone and rests in my cleavage, close to my galloping heart.

There is an alien likeness as he cocks his head. He pushes back my hair and sneers in distaste at what he sees. Have my ears offended him?

"What are you? Some fifthly elfling?" He spits the word 'elfling' like it is a disease.

He nimble jumps up and yanks me to my feet, before manhandling me back to the tree house; the other two fall behind us.

A fourth elf descends the steps from tree house and shakes his head.

My captor pushes me towards the stairs and commands, "Pack what you need. You have five minutes."

Tearing up the stairs, I enter Darish's room and am horrified by the state of devastation. The bed is slashed, as if attacked by a madman, while clothes, torn books and broken pottery are scattered across the floor.

On the verge of tears, I hastily pull on my leather flying trousers and stuff as many of my things as I can into my bag before I'm dragged back outside. There is no time to leave a note. No time to say goodbye.

With wrist bound in front of me, I'm marched through the trees to where four black horses wait. I've always been good with animals, maybe, just maybe if I can connect with one of these, then I can make an escape. Although, I'm not liking the wild verging on mad look in their red hued eyes.

The first elf forces me onto one of the horses, I think he might be their leader. He springs up behind me and signals to the others to depart.

As we canter through the dark forest, tears roll down my cheeks. My heart is breaking at the thought of Roth dying and being ripped away from Zane and Darish; they have become like family. I have no idea why they have taken me, unless and I shudder at the thought, could that psycho elf have found me?

......

Having ridden through the night and all the way through the next day, we finally stop to camp as it is getting dark again. The leader has kept up a gruelling pace and we have rested only long enough to stop the horses from collapsing.

I am exhausted and my body aches from being in the saddle for so long. I am pulled down by the elf who I have been riding with since the last break. He snaps his teeth by my face and laughs when I flinch.

"Can we amuse ourselves with this one?" he asks.

Adrenaline floods into my tired limbs as four sets of predatory eyes fixate on me. Even with Darish's training I would struggle to fight off one of them.

The leader shakes his head. "No. She is for Lord Nero. But if she does not please him, then perhaps he will allow us to play." Then he barks out a command in language I can only assume is elvish and the others disappear amongst the trees.

I flop onto the floor and hide my face in my hands, not wanting to show how close I am to breaking down.

Soon the elves return and a fire is lit. My stomach grumbles at the scent of cooking meat. When it is ready I am given a rabbit haunch to gnaw on. I struggle with my wrists still bound and juices run down my chin, however, it is better than starving.

When I am finished, I curl up and although the ground is hard I soon crash out.

I am not sure how long I slept for when I wake with a start. I scan my surrounding and spot the sleeping forms of the elves laying not far from me. Then I have to rub my eyes, for the old man with the golden-yellow eyes is sat on a log by the embers of the dying fire.

"I wish you had heeded my warning." He shakes his head. "This could have been avoided."

I don't know what he's talking about. Not wanting to wake my captors, I ask in a urgent whisper, "What warning?"

"I came to you the night before last and told you to flee."

"Ah, Yes well, I had a little too much elven wine. I do not remember anything of that night. Can you untie me?"

"I would if I could, however this is a dream."

It all seems so very real. Curious, I gently poke the man and feel the flesh of a living person. "Are you sure this is just a dream?"

He gives me a sad smile. "This is a special kind of dream. Very few have such a gift. Now Elissa, do not provoke these elves, they are merciless and their master is even worse. I will try to guide you, but I am afraid that for now you must endure."

.....

The next day we reach a brooding, grey stone castle. I shiver as we pass through its black gates, as if into the mouth of a beast. The dark tunnel spits us out into a courtyard and a black-clad elf strides towards us, his boots clicking on the cobbles. His ice blue eyes regard me with disdain.

"This is the girl?" There is an edge of disbelief and certainly disgust in his voice.

The elves bow to him and the leader of the group confirms, "Aye, captain."

The captain dismisses my captors, telling them to take their reward. My stomach lurches when the snapping one mentions how he has worked up an appetite.

"Welcome to Castle Corinth." The captain's voice is mocking before turning more sinister. "Though 'tis an insult that we have to entertain such a filthy creature!"

Admittedly, I know that I'm not looking or smelling my best, but then after several days riding hard and sleeping rough, and not being allowed to wash, what do they expect?

In my irritation, I snap, "I apologise for my apparel. I have not had a chance to freshen up since coming into the company of your men. If..."

His right arm shoots out and his hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my words.

"They are elves, not men," the last word is spat with vitriol.

With no sign of effort, he lifts me off the ground and brings me level with his frigid eyes. "You. Are. Nothing!" He shakes me like a rag doll, emphasising each words. "Your former life is gone. You do not speak unless you are spoken to."

Dangling, impotent, completely at the mercy of the merciless, I feel panic rising within me as I struggle to pull in wheezing breaths. The ice in his eyes melts with sadistic pleasure and his fingers tighten.

I am terrified that this could be the end. In desperation, I raise my bound hands and claws at his vice-like grip, but to no avail. Black spots form and my vision starts to blur.

--------------------------------

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