Taken.

Diane’s not sure what, if anything, she can do to help in a swordfight, but she doesn’t want to leave her guards. For a few precious moments, she stands indecisive, body as tense as the string on her bow. The bow she had left back at the fortress.

“That’s her.” The leader of the attackers points to her, the undisguised hatred in his voice making her shudder. “The accursed healer. Glory to the one who captures her.”

They’re after her? That means she can draw them away from the others. Even the odds for the soldiers. Give the children a chance to get to safety. Yes. She turns and runs. Blindly. Heavy steps follow close behind. Too close.

Too late, she realizes that she’s trapped herself. In front of her lies the edge of the ledge, and the steep drop to the forest far beneath it. She stops, turns around, one hand on the hilt of her dagger. Two men, arms spread and hands flapping as if they’re herding her, are moving closer one step at a time, as if they’re afraid to spook her into doing something foolish. They both have swords hanging at their belts. She takes her hand off her small knife. It won’t help her, but maybe she can reason with them…

Suddenly, Momo appears between Diane and the attackers, tails whipping back and forth, emitting a hiss worthy of a much larger, scarier cat.

“Don’t!” Diane cries as Momo leaps toward the closest man, impressive claws on display. She manages to leave three red lines on a pale cheek before she’s caught by the scruff of her neck and tossed aside. She rolls a few times before coming back up on all four paws, ready to dart back into a fight she couldn’t win.

These men are cold-blooded murderers, they would have no qualms about killing a cat. Not even one as cute as Momo. Diane runs to pick her up, then darts to the edge of the cliff. It’s steep: the height makes the tree crowns below look deceivingly soft. She wouldn’t survive a jump from here, and there’s no way she can climb fast enough. Momo, on the other hand…

“You’ve got nowhere to run, little girlie,” one of the men taunts.

That sums it up, all too well. She hugs Momo close, whispering.

“Go. Find Aster.” Huge amber eyes look into hers, slightly oversized ears flatten angrily as the men close in. A questioning mewl. “Aster. Find him. I believe in you.”

Unceremoniously, Diane drops the cat over the edge. Momo tumbles down, far down, before her claws find hold on the slope and she stops, looking up.

“Go!” Diane shouts as strong hands close around her arm. She just has time to see Momo turn and start climbing downward, a small pale speck soon lost in the shadows below.

“The critter got away,” the taller man complains, looking over the edge.

“Doesn’t matter. It'll die with the others. We have what we came for.” The shorter, stocky one gives Diane a shove away from the edge, making sure she won’t try to jump. He produces a length of rope from the satchel slung over his shoulder and ties her hands securely in front of her. As an afterthought, he pulls out a scarf as well, rolls it up and uses it as a gag, tying the ends at the back of her neck.

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter,” the tall guy agrees, pulling at the rope to make sure the knots are secure. They are. Painfully so. “Come along now, girl. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Hang on.” The stocky guy has spotted her knife and draws it from its sheath. He smacks his lips in appreciation as he studies the blade before placing it in his satchel. “You won’t be needing this anymore, girlie.”

Diane’s objections come out as muffled groans rather than the angry words she had intended. Then she yelps as the rope is pulled taut. The men take off, expecting her to follow. She does. Heart pounding in fear, mouth dry and filled with the taste of moldy fabric, she starts walking. Her kidnappers pay her little attention, talking quietly amongst themselves.

Is Momo okay? She hopes so. The kitten should be able to make it back and lead Aster and the others here. Maybe even track her scent. Too many ‘shoulds’ and ‘maybes’ there, she thinks grimly, dragging her feet along the dry grass. Maybe they’ll find the trail. Realize it’s her. Maybe…

She looks down at her belt, a pang of irrational regret causing a lump in her throat. It’s just a belt. Replaceable. And her soulbook. Aster had assured her that their magic prevented them from getting lost. Unbuckling the belt with fumbling fingers, she prays that he’s right. The belt drops to the ground with a soft thud and she holds her breath, waiting, but the men don't notice.

Relieved, she starts breathing again, picking up the pace to slacken the tension in the rope. Trotting along quietly, she makes as many marks on the ground as she dares. They are getting closer to the wall, its shadow now covering the trees around them, mimicking dusk.

“Here we are,” the stocky kidnapper says as they come to a halt. He pulls something out of the satchel… a leather harness of some kind. The look of it makes Diane’s skin crawl. What are they…? The tall one grins at her, then shimmers and disappears. The same way Aster does when he changes, but in this man’s place now stands a pale green, man-sized lizard.

If Diane had any doubts about who her captors were, they are gone now. These men are Mokushi, shapeshifters from the other side of the wall. Are they planning to climb it? It seems impossible, even with ropes and harnesses. She tenses as the stocky man holds up the harness, but it’s not for her. Instead, it fits snuggly on the large reptile. He finishes his work by attaching the end of the rope that binds her hands to a hook on the harness, connecting her to the lizard.

“Do try to keep up, little girlie. We’re on a schedule,” he says mockingly before he too shimmers into a lizard. Similar in size to the other, but a dark emerald green she would have found pretty had she seen it anywhere else.

Lizards are great climbers, but instead of scaling the wall, they turn the other way, into some shrubs. On her bound hands and knees, Diane is struggling to keep up, thin branches getting caught in her clothes and hair, scratching her face and hands.

Finally, after a small eternity, they stop. There, deep inside the bushes, is the hidden entrance to a cave, a tunnel. Small enough that she has to lie flat and wiggle her way inside. It’s dark, and the smell of old, dead things makes her stomach churn and her claustrophobia flare up. Unable to help herself, she whimpers. Eyes strain to make out anything in the dark. She tries to move forward, to squeeze forward on her elbows, but the reptiles are moving fast, so fast. Doing her best not to sob, she relaxes her arms, letting them be pulled over her head, allowing herself to be dragged deeper underground.

She closes her eyes to spare them from the stirred-up dust and dirt, praying to whatever gods might listen in this world. Praying that Momo is safe. That Tenna and everybody back at the fortress are safe.

And Aster… She’d been so cold to him last time they spoke. Please, let him be safe. Her heart lurches as images of him flood her mind.