I had no idea how much time had passed. There was no way to tell.

I stupidly left my phone in the backpack which, for all I knew, was still lying where I’d dropped it by the boulders. Damn my clumsiness. Damn my stupidity, too, because if I had half a brain, I wouldn’t have approached those… whatever they were. Dragons, people, whatever.

There were no windows. There were no lights—or, if there were, nobody had bothered to turn them on. Only a faint glow gave me anything to see by. I guessed it came from the tunnel leading to the cells.

I was the only one locked up. I assumed so. I couldn’t hear anybody else. Not even any breathing when I held my own breath. Just… nothing.

Except for a faint humming noise. I walked around the perimeter of the cell, listening hard. It didn’t seem to get any louder or softer no matter where I stood. What was it? A generator? Or whatever the generator was powering?

No. That made no sense. Then again, neither did the fact that I was in a cell under a mountain. It was the only explanation—I hadn’t been able to see where they were taking me thanks to the blindfold, but there hadn’t been any buildings around where we fought. Only the mountain, and the mouth of a cave which led inside.

Who were these people? What were these people? I couldn’t have imagined the dragons, especially since they reacted the way they did. Surprised, upset. Not disbelieving. They didn’t tell me I was crazy, did they? Nope. Because they knew I was telling the truth.

What did that truth mean?

“Hello?” I called out, getting a little desperate. And a little hungry. “Are you just going to leave me here to die? Will you at least tell me why I’m here? Why are you doing this?” And why did they attack as soon as they saw me? Instead of asking who I was, why I was there, they ran at me like it was time to take my head off.

I didn’t get an answer. I hadn’t expected one. That would’ve been too easy.

I slid to the floor, still holding onto the bars, still looking down the tunnel toward that faint, glowing light. That light was the only hope I had.

Until it got brighter.

At first, I was sure it was my imagination playing tricks. I wanted the light to be brighter. I wanted somebody to come and tell me it was all a mistake, that they were letting me go.

Soon, footsteps echoed down the tunnel. I got to my feet and willed myself to stop shaking. I could handle anything they threw at me. I’d handled the situation outside pretty well until the three of them had decided to work together, hadn’t I?

No matter how I worked to psych myself up, it didn’t matter very much when I realized a about dozen people were coming toward me.

“Somebody hit the lights,” one of them called out. A man. And just like that, warm light flooded the cells, and the tunnel.

I squinted against the sudden change and backed away from the bars until my back hit the wall behind me. So many of them. Where had they come from? They couldn’t possibly live here.

Could they?

I searched their faces as they approached and finally came to a stop outside the cell. They looked at me like I was an animal in the zoo—curious, interested. Maybe a little nervous, like I would be if I were outside the cage of a predator.

But I was just one person, and they were…

Oh, shit. The eyes. All of them. They all had that golden ring around their irises. Did that mean they were all like the ones I’d seen outside? They looked like humans and were all dressed in modern clothes—jeans, sweats, leggings, sweaters—but so had the ones outside.

One of them, a tall man—which, really, described most of the men—stepped forward. “Who are you?” he asked in a deep, rich voice with that same Scottish twang to it.

“My name is Keira,” I replied. No hesitation. It wasn’t the time to play games.

“Why are you here, Keira?”

“I was looking for somebody. I thought he lived near here. I didn’t mean to—”

“You trespassed on our land,” the man pointed out, cutting me off. “You were not invited here.”

“I know that. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was your land, or anybody’s land in particular.” I looked at all of them, my eyes traveling over their faces. At least one of them had to feel bad for me. Didn’t they?

It didn’t seem that way. I was the trespasser, the one who’d breached their borders. I was the enemy.

“And yet you said your friend lived here,” the man pointed out.

I barely held back a sigh. “I think he lived here, or was staying near here. I got an email from him which I traced back to this location, and I thought this would be as good a place as any to start. Please, believe me. I didn’t mean to trespass.”

“And I suppose you didn’t mean to attack the three of us out there, either.” I would’ve sworn under oath that the woman who hurled that reminder at me was the one I kicked in the jaw. Her hair was longer than her friend’s, arranged in a series of braids halfway back along her head before curling down her back. Same hair. Same blue, gold-ringed eyes.

Flawless face. Not even a bruise where she had been bleeding earlier.

Good thing my stomach was empty, since it started to twist and turn at the sight of her not having any marks from our scuffle.

I had to speak, though, since all of them glared at me. “I didn’t want to attack any of you. You ran at me three at a time. And you didn’t exactly look friendly. I know the difference.”

The man who was doing all the speaking up to that point—he struck me as being the leader of the group—looked back at the woman, who sort of ducked her head. He sighed. “That explains that.”

“She shouldn’t have been able to do what she did.” I recognized the man who’d dragged me to the cell. He had a mean punch. My head was still ringing a little.

“I fight for a living,” I explained before anybody could question me. “Mixed martial arts. It comes naturally to me.”

“Yes. It would, wouldn’t it?”

“What does that mean?” I asked as they all nodded and muttered to themselves.

The leader raised an eyebrow, looking me up and down. “You said you were looking for someone here. A friend.”

“Yes.”

“Seeing as how none of us has any friends outside of our group, it seems patently impossible for this to be the case.”

I looked around at them again. “What are you? Some sort of cult?”

They laughed gently. Some of them shook their heads.

“Hardly,” he said. “But let me assure you, either you’ve come to us with an inexpert little lie about knowing someone here, or you’re gravely mistaken as to the location of your friend’s home. Considering the mark on the back of your neck, I would venture to guess it’s the former rather than the latter.”

Something about the way he said that reminded me of Tamhas. He would speak that way, wouldn’t he? “Maybe you’ve met him? His name is Thomas—or Tamhas, originally.” I liked it better than the modernized version.

All whispers and murmuring stopped like somebody had flipped a switch. “What did you say?” the leader asked.

What did I do wrong this time? “Tamhas.”

“How do you know this person? That name?”

“We met online.”

None of them said another word. They turned, almost as one, and hurried away. I rushed to the bars, desperate. “I’m hungry! Can’t you give me something to eat? Or to drink? Please!”

None of them answered.