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“Ms. Adare?” Ellie turned away from the
attendant stacking her luggage at the sound of her name. She eyed the
large man with black hair and green eyes before her gaze moved to his
shorter companion, noting what a contrast they presented. His lithe
build and tamed brown curls looked strange next to the large one’s
wild hair, barely contained in a short ponytail. “Doctor,” she
corrected. The larger one shrugged. “Doctor,
your visa has been revoked.” Her eyes widened. “What? On whose
authority?” “Anca Draganescu, the ruler of
Corsova,” the shorter one said. He seemed faintly apologetic, but his
voice was just as firm as his partner’s. Ellie shook her head. “But why? I
filled out the proper paperwork weeks ago.” “Yes, ma’am, but you’re
required to fill it out honestly.” “Sorin,” the shorter one said
in a low tone of voice. Sorin continued, ignoring the
warning. “If you had been honest about your reasons for visiting
Corsova, you’d have been saved a long trip.” Her hands settled on her hips as
she glowered at him. “A social anthropologist does their best to blend
in when the opportunity is presented to them. I may have omitted part of
the reason for my visit, but I’ve done nothing wrong.” She tried
pasting a coaxing smile on her heart-shaped face as she glanced at the
shorter one. “Couldn’t we work this out?” His eyes widened. “You can’t
bribe us, Doctor.” She sighed. “Fine. I want to see
your ruler. I’m certain she’ll be reasonable.” After all, from
what Ellie had been able to determine in her initial research, their
current queen was a native New Yorker. She should be able to use the
career-woman approach to get her visa reinstated. Sorin crossed his arms. “That
isn’t possible. Lucian.” He inclined his head. Lucian extended a folder of
documents toward Ellie. “You’ll find a ticket for the train leaving
in a few minutes, along with the documents you submitted when you
applied for entrance.” Sorin walked to the employee who
had been unloading her bags. “Load these back on the train. Dr. Adare
will be returning to Constanta.” “Leave them right there,” Ellie
snapped. “You can’t do this to me. Just let me—“ Sorin turned to her, towering over
her. “It would be unfortunate if we have to physically restrain you
during your return to Romania.” Her eyes widened. “You can’t
threaten me.” “It isn’t a threat,” Lucian
hurried to say. “It would be temporary custody, for the duration of
the train ride. However, we have no wish to restrain you. If you’ll
join us on the train, we’ll see you back to Constanta.” He gave her
a small smile. “There isn’t any need for unpleasantness.” Ellie grasped her carryon case,
resisting the urge to swing it at the both of them and make a run for
it. That wouldn’t be the best way to start her three-month stay in
Corsova. No, she would have to outwit the brutes. She took a deep breath
and gave them a charming smile. “Of course not. I’ll be happy to
return to Romania. There are interesting groups there too.” Lucian nodded. “Excellent.
We’ll see you back—“ She frowned. “Excuse me?” “We’ve been assigned to see you
returned to Constanta,” Sorin said, crossing his arms. “I must
insist you board the train, Dr. Adare. It will be leaving shortly.” She swallowed down her protests and
walked to the stairs, conscious of them shadowing her steps. She pushed
down her seething anger and tried to accept the situation. She would
ditch the goons in Constanta and rent a plane. She hadn’t spent two
years earning her pilot’s license just because it was a fun hobby. Once she returned to Corsova, she
would have to keep a low profile. Studying one of the mountain groups
would be ideal. She could gather her data about the modern-day culture
that chose to live at an early twentieth-century level of technology,
put together a paper to publish, and win the position as chair of her
department at Columbia before Dr. Ludlow. Being denied legitimate
entrance into Corsova was a minor inconvenience, but it wouldn’t stop
Ellie. Ellie huddled deeper into the parka
she had purchased in Constanta and squinted out the windshield of the
small Cessna she had rented with her expense account from the
university. She knew she would have to reimburse accounting for a
three-month plane rental, but that was the least of her worries right
now. She was lost in the mountains, in
the middle of a blizzard. One moment, tiny snowflakes splattered against
the windshield, falling from a moderately overcast sky, with the sun
still visible. The next, she was flying into wind gusts, with snow so
thick she couldn’t see. Even her equipment was no help. It had stopped
working within minutes of crossing the Corsovan border. “Just calm down, Ellie,” she
whispered to herself. She had enough gas to backtrack to Romania. She
could attempt to fly in later, once the storm lifted. There wasn’t any
reason to panic. With careful movements, she began
turning the plane, intent on heading back the way she came. She tried to
keep the plane level, but she felt it dip down on the left side, seconds
before she heard a cracking sound that drowned out the noise of the wind
and blinding snow. The plane shuddered at the impact, and it took all
her strength to hold it steady. She let out a small yelp of alarm
as the Cessna began to nosedive. She had no idea of her altitude, and
she feared crashing into the side of the mountain. She struggled to slow
the plane’s descent, but it smashed into a barrier much too soon. The collision threw Ellie forward
against the seatbelt. It snapped loose under the force of her body, and
she went flying toward the instrument panel, striking her head on the
hard surface. She was vaguely aware of the rocking motion of the plane
tapering off as she lay against the panel, attempting to keep her eyes
open. Waves of blackness flickered behind
her eyes, and her head was a throbbing mass of agony. Ellie tried to
lift her arm to examine her forehead, where she could feel warm blood
flowing freely, but she couldn’t find the strength to move. She blinked as the darkness behind
her eyes expanded, obscuring her vision. She knew slipping into
unconsciousness would be signing her death warrant, and she tried
focusing on the pain to keep her alert. It had the opposite effect,
making her want to sleep to escape the anguish. Ellie tried once more to move, and
she succeeded in putting her palms against the control panel and heaving
herself backwards into the bucket seat. She could feel the buckle of the
belt digging into her back and, as her eyes closed, she made a mental
note to demand a refund on a portion of her deposit. She tried to fight
off the darkness, but it crashed over her and swept her away. The sound of wolves howling nearby
brought Ellie back to a state of semi-consciousness. Shivers racked her
body, and her head ached so badly she could barely open her eyes. She
knew it was important to wake up, or she would become dinner for the
wolves she heard getting closer. Her head didn’t feel like
cooperating, and she lost consciousness again. It might have been minutes or hours
later when she awakened again. Ellie groaned as she felt something soft
against her face. She blinked open her eyes and would have screamed if
she’d had the strength. A large brown wolf lay across her lap, with
its muzzle pressed against her cheek. Her eyes blurred, and she thought
she saw the countenance of a young woman appear on the wolf’s head as
it drew away. “Remain calm. Help is on the way.” She couldn’t help noticing the
wolf had a thick accent, and its English wasn’t perfect. Oh, yes, she
was about to die or already had. Ellie closed her eyes again,
surrendering to sleep. It seemed preferable to hallucinating or
experiencing the agony of the wolf tearing into her. When she next awoke, it was to the
din of raised voices. She blinked open her eyes, stunned to find herself
in a small room, nestled under a mound of blankets. She was warm and
dry. Her head still ached, but she could stand to keep her eyes open. She turned her head, and a groan
escaped her as pain flared with the motion. She saw a fireplace,
complete with a roaring fire. It provided enough illumination to make
out the room’s contents—a small table, a dresser, and a closet with
the door partially opened. Ellie cautiously touched the wound
on her forehead, finding a thick bandage covered it. Someone had found
her, but the question was, who? “Hello?” She winced at the raspy
quality of her voice. The angry voices didn’t diminish, so she assumed
they hadn’t heard her. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Is
someone there?” The shouting ended abruptly,
followed by two or three seconds of silence before footsteps approached
the room. When the door opened, a beam of light arced into the room,
catching Ellie in the face. She winced and shielded her eyes. She waited
for the person to speak, but they stood in the doorway silently. The light backlit their frame, which she believed was a man’s. Surely, few women got that tall and broad. The long hair she saw flowing down his shoulder might have caused her to doubt her original hypothesis, except it didn’t seem feminine. The ebony shade gleamed in the light, but it didn’t have that fussed-over quality of most women’s hair.
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