Seer's Hope (Book 1 of The Seer Trilogy)

Seer's Hope (Chapter 18)

Seer's Hope

By Maree Anderson

Chapter Eighteen

The rough material of the blindfold smelled musty. Her feet and hands were bound with cord—not tight enough to be painful or affect her circulation, but enough to restrict movement. She was slung over a man's shoulder and he was moving at a rapid pace. She groaned and choked on bile.

"She's awake. Put her down, but watch her."

Hands lifted her from his shoulder. Hope sank to her knees and vomited. Her stomach performed a sickening somersault and her skull throbbed. Clutching her midriff, she toppled onto her side and curled into a ball, in no condition to protest her treatment.

"What's wrong with her?"

"You hit her too hard."

"Didn't have much choice. She was about to—"

She retched again. Thankfully, this time someone supported her and held back her hair while she emptied her stomach.

"Ask her yourself what's wrong," she heard another voice say.

And then, "Sehan? Are you ill?"

"It's the way you were carrying me, I think." Her words were the barest croak through a dry, scratchy throat. And she was pleasantly surprised when a water-bag was thrust beneath her nose, and one of the men helped her to drink from it.

"Shikari's hairy paws, it's a fine mess we're in." He sounded savage.

"I'm blind, so if you let me go now, I won't be able to identify you."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true." Of course she'd be able to identify them from the unique pattern of each man's aureya but they couldn't know that. She hoped.

"Take off her blindfold. But be ready in case she tries anything."

Cautious hands untied the cloth around her eyes.

She sensed movement. A pause and then, "She's telling the truth. She didn't even blink."

"Untie her feet and let's get moving."

"Aren't you going to let me go?"

"Sorry, Sehan. We need you too much."

"Why?"

"You'll see."

Huh. Doubtless the irony of that statement was lost on him.

The hands that dragged her upright were forced to steady her: It was no easy task to find her balance with her hands tied behind her back. One man either side of her, each grasping an elbow, they urged her forward. Her head swum. The nausea was so intense she had no choice but to stumble along and pray for an opportunity to escape once she recovered.

Escape proved wishful thinking, for by the time they halted a couple of hours later, Hope was in no fit state to walk any further. Another bout of vomiting was compounded by the thumping headache and weird spots dancing before her eyes. She lay on the ground, miserably concluding she was concussed... and in deep trouble.

One of her captors came to the same conclusion. "She's got a concussion. Vomiting, nausea—and look, she can't even focus her eyes properly."

"She'll have to make do until we reach the settlement."

"How? She can barely walk for Wisa's sake!"

"Make a stretcher. We'll carry her the rest of the way."