The Boy With the Silver Eyes ~A NaNoWriMo Entry~

When a new boy named Peter Menard comes to their high school, Best friends Sarah Wagner and Alex Haisgen know there's something different about him. When the truth is revealed, a whirlwind of lies, jealousy, and hatred stirs. An old rivalry begins again, and Sarah is right in the middle of it. Sarah must travel to a world were magic, monsters, sprites, and fairies roam. Will she succeed, or will her life end as she knows it?
Cover created by Willow Angel.

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21. Chapter 20

November 18th, 2015

Peter’s POV:

Last night, Zlo wouldn’t shut up. He kept screaming at me, telling me to go to…well, you get the idea. The light of the morning streamed in through the iron bars, and I squinted at how bright it was. Sarah had fallen asleep on me, her head on my chest and her hand over my heart. Stroking her hair, I knew that I would have to give her up soon. Fighting back tears, I stood up and looked over the side of the cart.

Hedvika, the girl that  Zlo had fought yesterday was standing there, her arms crossed and tapping her foot. Other prisoners were being loaded into the cart I shook Sarah awake and we moved farther back into the cart. Soon, all of the prisoners were loaded and we hit the road.

The girl rode beside the cart on a small, white horse, along with several of our other captors. She stared at me with disdain, her nose wrinkled with disgust. I stuck my tongue out at her and she rolled her eyes, ignoring me.

“You shouldn’t do that to her, you know,” one of the prisoners hissed, her matted brown hair covering her pale face, so that I couldn’t make out her features. “Why not? She seems harmless,” I chuckled, and Sarah bit her lip. “Do you not remember how she beat up Zlo yesterday?” she sighed. I smirked. “Of course I do. I made him get defeated.”

“Why?”

“I hate him!”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Yep.”

“You’re so weird,” Sarah sighed, turning away. The prisoner cleared her throat. “Like I was saying, she’s the right-hand man of The Shadow. All of the prisoners are being taken to work in his underground mines. Rumor has it, he’s digging for silver,” the prisoner said in a hushed tone.

“Silver? What would he want silver for?” I said, already knowing the answer. “The child from the prophecy is back! According to the prophecy, their only weakness is sliver,” the prisoner said. Sarah’s eyes widened and I put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you,” I soothed, wrapping her into a tight but loving embrace. “What. She’s…?” I nodded. The prisoner clasped her hands around Sarah’s. “Oh, you’ve come at last! I knew you would!” she said gleefully. Sarah looked a little startled, but she gave the prisoner a warm smile. I felt butterflies in my stomach just watching how kind she was to people.

“Hey, shut up in there!” a guard barked, stabbing his spear through the bars. One poor soul was unlucky enough to be on the wrong end of the blade, and he was run through. The others all backed away from the blood that was slowly covering the floor.

“Pull over,” the guard sighed. The donkey pulling the cart, a forlorn looking creature with matted hair, droopy ears, and sad eyes pulled over as fast as she could, but her speed didn’t please the driver and he gave her a few good licks with the whip in his hand. I winced at its foreboding sound, but the donkey stayed good and quiet, knowing any signs of discomfort would only earn her more lashes.

The guard unlocked the small iron door and quickly dragged the dead prisoner, throwing his body as if he were a rag doll. As we drove away again, several large birds landed on the discarded body and began to peck at it. I turned away, a sick feeling growing in my stomach.

“You’ll see a lot worse than that in the mines, my boy,” the prisoner who had spoken to us said softly, her hazel eyes filled with remorse.

 

                *             *              *

 

Alex’s POV:

We followed the caravan closely, staying far out of eyesight. A cart at the end of the trail was filled with people. They were undoubtedly prisoners who were to be sold to work in mines and such. I spotted Peter’s shock of white hair amongst all of the dirt and scum. I gripped the handle of my satchel tighter, gritting my teeth with anger.

“What should we do, Alex?” Bahadur asked, placing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Follow the caravan! What else?” I said, scuffing at the sand with my boot. Vladimir and Dimitri exchanged an exasperated glance.

“Bahadur, remember what happened the first time we listened to him? We all almost got skewered by 15 foot-long thorns!” Vladimir pointed out. Grinning sheepishly, I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly.

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. What do you think we should do, Bahadur?” I asked, turning to the buff Elf. “Let’s lay low. Stay here until they’re out of sight. We can still follow the footprints that are left in the sand. By hanging back, it’ll be easier for us to follow them unnoticed,” he said confidently. Vladimir and Dimitri nodded in agreement, but I didn’t feel so sure.

“That seems too simple. It’s never going to work,” I muttered, crossing my arms. Bahadur rolled his eyes at me and started to set up camp. Sighing, I helped him. Soon, the camp was set up and a fire made out of dead cactus leaves was crackling merrily, setting off a queer, purple light. I stared at the flames, tempted to stick in my hand, but I didn’t want to freak out the guys.

“What do we do if we don’t reach them in time?” I asked softly, poking at the fire with a stick. They all remained silent, not saying a word. “Then we might as well give up hope,” Bahadur said.

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