The Diary of Elliot Parker

.: Entry Thirty-Seven :.

My name is Elliot Parker.

I got back into that room with the books. Now? Now I am once again the stow away girl.

“Move.” The Captains voice is sharp in the cold echo of the cave. The hand on the wrist is pulling me away from the mouth of the cave. Something is out there.

I can feel the energy of a hunter out there searching for its prey. Not just any kind of hunter. I ignore the Captain and crouch down on the ground. I let my fingers leave the cold stone below my knees and trail a path down to the thick moist soil at the edge of the cave. I can feel the dirt, the peat, the stored energy, beyond that I can feel the blades of grass that grow. Further than the sea of green in my mind’s eye a springing map of trees begin to grow and sprout and reach higher and higher towards the sky. The birds begin to bloom like flowers and flutter like petals and they grow silent. The beasts on the ground are silent, except for the occasional whinny and bray of a horse. The first horse gives way to a small huddle. Upon the small huddle of horses, men, the bright blue and cream of the leader. The captain among them a hunter seeking their prey. What is their prey? I search the blue captain’s energy, “what is he hunting?”

“It is not a what.” is the answer I receive. I take a deep breath, “Who is he hunting?”

I wait for the response, “you already know the answer, he is hunting a stowaway girl, he is hunting you.” I swallow the growing panic and try to seek out more information. There are more men around the men on the horses. All wear some band or brand of blue. Being a stolen treasure that wanted to disappear now feels a little less fun. It is less fun than I had expected. The disappointment that we have to move from the cosy, cold cave.

If these men are here, that means they sailed here, they were looking for us and the body of them are on the land. I try to reach further into the distance of landscape towards the sea where we landed, it feels empty and hard and I feel drained. I push further and see to the ships they brought, three. A handful of men on each to keep the boats safe and secure. I have an idea. I pull myself back from the distance of the landscape and pull my fingers a fraction back to the stone and try to cut myself a path in the stone. A way to go down through the land and appear closer to the ships. I begin to pull the ground slowly into this idea. I feel a hand firmly gripping my shoulder and a familiar voice hissing in my ear.

I feel like I am being pulled away from something, pulled away from the world surrounding itself, almost glittering in the map of the mind’s eye.

The Captain’s hand on my shoulder is keeping me still even though I can feel my body swaying and moving in his hands he is pulling me away and further into the cave. “What are you doing?” He hisses in my ear.

“Can’t you feel it? We are being hunted.”

“I know. But you are in the open you can be seen.”

“Not by them, but I saw them.”

“You can be seen by my men, disobeying my orders being near the mouth of the cave, being visible.” His voice is steady and quiet and then his expression changes, “wait, what do you mean you saw them?”

“I don’t know how to explain, but I saw them.”

“What did you see?”

“Men on horses, men on foot. A captain in blue and cream. All the men wore something, like a token of blue.”

“What else? You have to tell my what else you saw. Now.”

“I am trying. There were ships. Three ships, a handful of men on each protecting them. Three ships on the shore. And there is a tunnel. Tunnels in the cave. The tunnels in the caves, there is a path close to the shore where the boats are. Its hidden can’t be seen, there are trees in the entrance. It’s filled with… filled with birds and leaves, I can’t see it, it’s fading. You pulled me away.” I can feel a rage building in my chest. I had been doing something new, that should be impossible.

The Captain must have read the change in my face because now he has pulled me to my feet, “how far away are they?”

“On horse? A day and a half’s ride.”

“That’s our best shot? A day?” I nod. His voice is quieter, “I am sorry.” I look at him questioning his words. He directs me back to the crew. “From now on no one and I mean no one goes near the mouth of the cave, we have hunted enough now we need to prepare and huddle because we are leaving in the hour. Make sure we have enough firewood and torchwood we are going into the caves.”

“How Captain, the caves are a dead end sir?” The crew murmured quietly. The Captain’s glare silenced the man. “I have a hunch,” were his words, “men when are my hunches ever wrong?” There was silence. I could feel a look from a corner of the crew. A look of suspicion, or is it a look that says they know what the Captain means, or what I am, or the truth of what I am. What the Captain is hiding. What I have been hiding. That member of the crew had one ready to test the water. “Captain, what about her, I saw her at the mouth of the cave. She disobeyed orders.” The Captain let his glance fall to me. “That she did.”

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