Free Eden Forest (Part one of the Saskia Trilogy) by Aoife Marie Sheridan Page A

but first we need to retrieve
    the child.” Clive knows not to push me any further, so he sits
    down with an angry thud. I ignore him and turn my attention
    to Felix. Part of Felix’s job is to study the mortal realm and all
    the differences between both. “Felix.”
    “Yes, my lady.”
    “What is the time difference in the mortal world to here?”
    “One day here is equivalent to one month in the mortal
    world, my lady.”
    “So Marta was gone for… nine months. What is the age of
    the child we are looking for?”
    “Twenty-one years of age, my lady.”
    “Very good, Felix.” He smiles in self-satisfaction. “So I need
    that child, or should I say woman, and please…”—I look at
    Clive when I say the next part—“without as much as a scratch
    on her.”
    Clive rises then, visibly irritated. “What do you want the girl
    for, anyway?” His tone is high pitched and too questioning.
    Even if he is my son, it is not something I will tolerate. I think
    the words in my head, but I can see from Clive’s frozen face he
    knows he has overstepped the line.
    Spirit, come to me. I can feel it dance around me. Brush his
    heart; make it skip a good few beats, I whisper in my mind. I let
    the thought skitter over to Clive. He grabs his chest. His face is
    nothing more than a mask of shock that I would hurt him. Pain
    runs across his expression at having his heart stopped. He falls
    to his knees and then gasps for air once I release him.
    My guardians stand perfectly still. Taurus has a little smirk
    on his face that he is trying to contain. I know he is glad Clive
    is suffering. It makes me feel angry towards him, but I can’t
    hurt Taurus. There is too much at risk. “Get up and do not ever
    question me again.”
    Clive gets off his shaky knees while nodding his head. The
    smell of urine hits me then. I look at his trousers. They are
    stained all down his leg. When he follows where I am looking,
    his face turns red with embarrassment and anger.
    “Now saddle up the horses and go get me that girl.” Taurus
    and Felix move to the door. Clive is frozen, looking at his
    trousers. “Clive, clean yourself up.” He walks past me with
    angry tears in his eyes, ones I hope he will not shed and make a
    bigger fool of himself.
    “Taurus.” He pauses before closing the door.
    “Yes, my lady.”
    “How long will it take to cross over?”
    “One full day.”
    “Well, then, I expect you back here in three days.” They leave
    and I pour myself a goblet of wine, feeling satisfied with myself .
     
     

 
     
    Marta -Saskia, Present day-
     
     
     
    I open my eyes. I am back in the cell. Tears break through the
    crusted blood around my eyes, making my tears flow red.
    I think I am back in the cell a day. I try to move, but the
    pain shoots through my body. A choked sound escapes my lips.
    I can hear the rattle of my cell door. Then footsteps approach
    me. I close my eyes tight and pray it will be over quickly. I know
    I will not live through another beating. I am not afraid of dying;
    I am afraid of not living.
    I can hear the shuffle of clothes as someone kneels down
    beside me. “Drink some water.” I open my eyes and look up at
    a guardian with a pitcher of water in his hands. I don’t answer,
    just nod my head. He lifts me up and brings the pitcher to my
    lips. It could be poisoned, but I don’t care. It will make my
    death come faster. I take a deep gulp of water. It tastes so good.
    When I have my fill, I look up at the guardian, who is studying
    me. He has piercing green eyes that really stand out against his
    tanned skin.
    “What is your name, guardian?” I ask through cracked and
    dry lips.
    “Tristan, my lady.” I recognise his name. He is Morrick’s
    head guardian. “Can you stand?” he asks while scanning my
    battered body.
    “No, I don’t think so.” I try to move, but he stops me.
    “I will carry you.”
    “Carry me where?”
    “I am under orders from King Morrick not to say.”
    I feel sick.