Chapter Two

Layla watched as the sky moved past over her head, seeming to unfurl like a roll of velvet as the men carried her. They had lifted her above their heads like she weighed nothing despite the massive piece of stone and were carrying her smoothly almost as though she were floating through the air. Now that she was out of the small, tight room with the torches, the air felt cooler and she drew in a breath she hoped would calm her. She needed to get her mind together, to put herself back in control of whatever was happening. If she had any chance of escaping, the only way she would make it happen would be to stay calm and think clearly.

She searched her mind for anything that would help her, anything that would tell her where she would go or how she may be able to get away from these men. All that came to mind, however, was the slow motion repeat of her running through the woods through a washed-out colored world that seemed further and further away with each step the men took.

Suddenly she felt the slab of stone tilt and she seemed to get higher. She realized that the men were climbing a set of steps up into an ancient-looking stone building. The hall they carried her down was lined with torches contained within bright metal cages and featured thick tapestries in shades of green and black. She couldn’t tell what the tapestries depicted and by the time they reached the end of the hallway, she had given up attempting to decipher them and lowered her head back down on the stone slab to ease the tension and pain forming in the back of her neck from trying to hold her head up while not being able to move her arms or legs.

The sound of a heavy door opening filled her ears and she watched as a tremendous doorframe passed overhead. Her captors had carried her into a sprawling room so vibrantly bright after the muted light of the corridor that it hurt her eyes. She closed them, squeezing them as tightly as she could until the burning stopped and she no longer saw the pinpricks of color dancing on the backs of her eyelids.

When she opened them again she realized that the room was not bright simply because there was more light in it than there had been in the corridor or in the small room where she had woken up. Instead, it seemed intensely bright because it was completely lined with mirrors. Now that her eyes had gotten accustomed to the refracted light, Layla was able to look up and see that the ceiling reflected the floor and the walls, creating a never-ending series of reflections that was dizzying in its depth. From the reflection above her, she could see that the men carrying her were all dressed identically in hooded green cloaks nearly the color of the sunset she had seen when she awoke. Black gloves covered their hands and the hoods concealed their faces so that she was not even able to determine their age. She only assumed they were men because of their size and strength.

Layla felt the men lower the slab of stone to the floor and she turned her head to see the men walking away. Smaller figures in hooded purple robes approached and she felt the ropes at her wrists and ankles loosen, then soft hands come to her arms and gently lead her up to a sitting position.

"Come with us," a sweet, almost musical-sounding voice said.

Layla felt like she had no choice. She knew that she should run, but the compulsion was tempered by the realization that she truly had nowhere to go. Until she had some concept of where she was or how far she had come, she wouldn't be able to escape. Though whoever these people were had been gentle with her so far, she had no idea how they would react to her should she attempt to get away from them. Instead, she allowed these smaller figures, who she assumed to be women, to guide her away from the stone slab and across the mirrored floor toward a platform at the far end of the room.

They walked up a steep set of stairs and she saw a deep tub cut into the center of the platform.

"What is this?" she was finally able to force past the tightness in her throat.

"We must prepare you for Jiri," the same voice that had beckoned her to follow told her.

"I don't understand," Layla said.

The figures eased their hoods off and Layla saw that they were all indeed women. Young, softly beautiful women all wearing the same braids in their hair and calm, complacent looks on their faces. The one who had spoken to her reached forward and started to push her cardigan off of Layla's shoulders. Layla hesitated and saw a smile come to the woman's lips.

"Do not be afraid of us. We won't hurt you."

The way she said it made Layla feel even more nervous and she relaxed the tension in her shoulders so that the woman could pull off her cardigan. She let the women undress her and for the first time she noticed that her clothing had tears and streaks of dried mud. She tried again to think back on how she got to that place, but she could only remember running. There was nothing beyond the woods where she ran.

Once they had removed all of her clothing, one of the women took her hand and carefully led her to step into the tub. The water felt so hot it almost stung her skin, but the sensation was a soothing distraction from the chill of the night outside and the uncomfortable feeling of the confusion and fear that continued to trickle along her spine. She climbed down a series of steps deeper into the water and then crossed the tub so that she could sit on a low bench across from the steps.

One of the women picked up a bowl and poured the contents into the water, immediately changing the shade of the bath to a light pink that seemed to shimmer with touches of gold. A velvety, sultry scent touched her nose and she took a deep breath to fill her lungs with it. Her head swam slightly with the effect and she felt her body starting to relax into the hot water. Another of the women picked up what looked like a complex pitcher, used one hand to carefully tilt Layla's head back, and poured more water back over her hair. This seemed to be some kind of beginning for the other women, who started moving around her, picking up bottles and vessels, and bathing her quietly. She let them lift her arms to wash them as the woman with the pitcher cleansed her hair. After several minutes she felt brave enough to speak again.

"Who is Jiri?"

The first woman smiled at her again.

"He is the youngest prince."

"The youngest prince? Of where?" she asked.

"Of this planet."

The answers were so vague and delivered with such soft, unassuming tones that they sounded almost like riddles.

"What do you mean this planet?"

Just as the words came out of her mouth, Layla noticed that the sleeve of one of the women's robes had lifted away from her wrist as she poured water over Layla's shoulder, revealing what looked like large glowing gems embedded in the flesh of the inside of her lower arm. Layla grabbed her wrist before she could move her hand away and turned the woman's arm over so that she could look at the gems more closely.

"What are these?" she asked.

She saw the women exchange glances.

"Do you know where you are?" the woman asked her.

"No. I can't even remember where I was before I was brought here."

The women looked at each other again and Layla could see something in their glances that told her that something had happened that was even more serious than she had originally thought.

"Should we tell her?" one of the women asked.

"Tell me what?" Layla demanded, "Who are you? Where are we? What has happened?"

The questions poured out of her in rapid-fire succession and she felt like she was screaming in contrast to the consistent, even quiet of the women. There were a few more seconds of silent tension before the woman who had first spoken to her looked back at her.

"You are in Orion's Belt."