When I eventually regained consciousness, I think in the back of my mind I
expected to be in hospital. I thought someone had found me and taken me to
hospital. But I wasn't.
Instead I found myself on a soft carpet of moss, on a bed of leaves. I
groaned, my hand instinctively going to my left temple, where the core of
the pain was. My fingers came back red. Blood.
I groaned again and slowly and gingerly stood up. The world swirled for a
few moments, then settled. I finally had a chnce to see where I was.
I wasn't on the road anymore. I was in a forest. I had been resting directly
under a large Oak tree. An ancient one, it's branches reaching up and
outwards, sheltering me.
I didn't recognise anything. Usually there was a worn path or something, but
there was nothing, only rambling greenery. Where am I? I wondered, feeling
helplessly lost.
The pain stabbed at me again and I winced. I felt a wave of nausea come over
me, and for a moment I thought I was going to throw up.
Then I heard hoofbeats, that sounded like a horse and I looked up.
"What's this?" a deep voice said.
I looked up to a giant.
I wasn't joking. The guy had black hair and black eyes and a moustache. He
was on a huge horse and was simply a giant, he was so tall. He looked
familiar...
"Who - who are you?" I asked, my voice terribly weak.
Then another wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over, clutching my stomach
in pain.
"You're hurt!" he cried. "Over here!" he called over his shoulder.
"No! I'm fine!" I gasped. Then, before I could stop myself, I collapsed and
everything went black.
*****
I woke up with a sickening smell in my nostrils. I gagged and tried to sit
up. A firm hand held me down. "Don't try to get up," a voice said. It was
warm and midrange and definitely a mans. "You need strength and to get that
you need sleep."
I suddenly found myself drowning in blackness, fringed with sparkling
whiteness and I fell asleep.
*****
I eventually woke up again and groggily opened my eyes. I was in a huge
room, decorated in gold and blue.
"What the-?" I yelped and sat up in the bed. It was then I noticed the
clothes.
My clothes were gone. Instead I wore a long, dark blue nightgown, that
actually felt kind of heavy. It was decorated with gold threads.
I felt a surge of anger. Where were my clothes? I'd been wearing a pair of
blue jeans, a white top, with a V-neck and black ankle boots with no heel.
Just normal clothes. Instead I was wearing this... thing. Then a cold wave
of fear fell over me. Just who had taken off my clothes? It could have been
anyone. My breath came in short, harsh gasps. I didn't even have a clue
where I was. I was on the brink of hysteria.
Then the door opened, and my head snapped to the right. A man came in. He
was wearing a normal white shirt, breeches and boots. That even struck me as
odd. I didn't even think anyone unless they were riding, wore breeches
normally. Then the guy himself, got my interest.
He was dark-skinned, with dark, eyes and long black hair that was tied back
in a ponytail. And he was well over six feet. He looked familiar, like the
guy on the horse, that I'd met before I'd collapsed. He must have brought me
here, I thought dimly.
"You're awake," he said and sat down on a chair near the bed.
"Who are you?" I asked. The pain in my head was back. "Where am I?"
"Don't you have any idea?" he asked me, surprise evident on his face.
I shook my head, feeling dumb. "None. Please just tell me where I am."
His next words were the last thing I expected.
"You're in the land of Tortall, in it's capital Corus and right now you're
in the Royal Palace and my name is -"
"Numair Salmalėn," I interuppted weakly. It had all clicked. That's why he
looked so familiar - I'd read the Immortals by Tamora Pierce as well. I'd
read about this man.
His face was shocked as he looked at me in wonder. "How do you know? Do I
know you?"
I shook my head. "Trust me: you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
He ignored that. "Please, tell me," he begged.
Then I remembered how Numair loved discovering things. Then it hit me: I was
in a land that wasn't supposed to exist, in a city that wasn't supposed to
be real, looking at a man that wasn't supposed to be here. And I had no way
of getting home.


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