After awakening in an unfamiliar fantasy world, a Canadian trauma nurse allies with a mysterious elf king to save his world from the shadows that feast on its inhabitants.
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Death is no stranger to ER nurse Nessa. Little does she know she's going...
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"Absolutely not." Nessa shook her head, strands of copper hair sticking to her face. She paused, wiping some perspiration that beaded on her brow, and placed her pitchfork against the wall of one of the stable bays. The smell of fresh hay filled the air with a pungent, grassy scent.
"I don't think it's optional, Ness." Hannah sighed, her strong arms flexing as she finished heaving the soiled hay and grass from her stall.
"He's keeping me here against my will, Hannah." Ness tucked a strand of her hair back into the bun wrapped at her neck. "I've done nothing wrong. My only crime is forgetting how I got here. I've even worked here without complaint, hoping they will see I mean them no harm. Yet, I've heard nothing, and it's been over two weeks since you and I met."
The only time Nessa glimpsed Trystan was when she returned to the castle after her days at the stables. Sometimes, he would stand atop a balcony near the top of the golden tree. Trystan watched her during those times, and although she couldn't discern any expression on his face, the intensity of his gaze was clear. The strange elf king made her nervous. The day she realized he was studying her, it caused a confusing warmth to spread on her cheeks. Yet, the fact remained that he was keeping her prisoner against her will, despite her innocence. He had not attempted to communicate with her since their heated altercation in the garden.
Even now, weeks later, his words echoed in her mind. What did he mean when he asked what she was? It was impossible. This wasn't real, but did dreams go on for so long? Could they be so tangible? Time was passing, and there was no sign of waking up.
"Strange things have been happening, Ness," Hannah replied, stopping and leaning her own pitchfork against the wooden wall. She brushed her hands off on the soiled apron that wrapped around her waist. Her eyes held concern, and even the kind way they crinkled when she spoke did not hide the fear within them. "He can't help but have concern for his people. They've been vanishing without a trace, and now that incident with the injured elf has people afraid. Something is happening, and Trystan does not like to dance with uncertainty when it comes to his kingdom. He's doing it for the safety of all, Nessa."
A strange expression washed over Hannah's face.
"What is it, Hannah?" Ness asked, tilting her head in question.
Hannah took a couple of steps forward until she was standing right in front of Ness. Her brown gaze focused on Nessa's temple, and she reached forward and tugged a lock of Nessa's hair into view. Her eyes widened in surprise as she stretched the lock out in front of Nessa's face. It was as white as snow.
"This was not here yesterday, Nessa," Hannah mused, sliding her fingers against the strand of ashen hair.
Nessa blinked, trying to focus on the strand of hair in front of her. It was true. It was white, and it had not been like that yesterday. She swallowed and reached up, plucking the lock from Hannah's hand.
