Tiffany Dunn - If I Should Never Find You

She woke slowly, uncurling herself from where she'd fallen asleep at the foot of the bed. The words stopped abruptly with her movement. When she blinked and peered into the darkness, she could make out a small, dark lump. Sport slept a few feet away from it, although he stirred when she called his name. The big cat stretched lazily, muscles tensing and relaxing under his smooth fur. Morning light leaked underneath thick, velvet drapes, which were barely moving with the breeze. It was chilly in the room, but not uncomfortably so.

The skin around Melissa's eyes was tight, and she massaged her temples to try and soothe the pain. But this headache had been present since she'd first seen Terry's body lying pale and still in the carriage. God, Terry, she moaned, covering her face again. She thought she'd cried all her pain away last night, but it hurt just as fiercely this morning. Her arms and legs felt like deadweights, and her heart couldn't seem to beat steadily. Moving towards the small bowl a servant had provided last night, she splashed cold water on her face.

"Sport," Melissa called, her voice rough. The big cat hadn't left the corner, instead he was hunkered down and staring intently at the mysterious form. "What are you looking at?" she wondered, making her way cautiously towards him. Yesterday was fuzzy, and when she saw the little green creature shaking in the corner, it took her a moment to recall him. The mirror. The memory exploded in her thoughts, momentarily lightening her grief.

She picked the small imp up and shook him softly. "I remember you. You're the one who got us into this. You were in my kitchen!"

His tiny mouth disappeared in terror. "Don't hurt me!" he squealed. His voice reminded her of the Chipmunks, but much higher and more irritating.

"If you answer my questions, I won't hurt you," she said, not quite promising it to herself. He must've heard the hesitation on her part, because his wide eyes narrowed. "You don't have much choice," she hissed.

The imp grumbled, and then shrieked when she shook him again. "Stop doing that!" he pouted. "That hurts."

"Then answer my questions."

"You didn't ask me any!"

She glared at him, and realized he was right. Ignoring her embarrassment, Melissa nodded sharply. "Fine, then. What's your name?"

He smiled smugly. "Grojavek."

"Why were you in my kitchen?"

The smile disappeared and he shrugged sullenly. "I wanted to be there."

"But why?" When he didn't answer, she shook him again.

"I'm going to be a great King!" he shouted. "King of your stupid world!"

"King of my world?" Melissa's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

"Muklavuk will help me!"

"Who?"

His sigh was so deep and dramatic, she nearly laughed. "He's the greatest imp of all time. He's helping me. We'll get Her, and then we'll get you!"

Melissa's eyebrows furrowed. "Get who?"

The imp looked away, his face suddenly panicked. She felt his thin fingers twitching, ticklish against her skin. "No one."

"Who, Grojavek?"

"No one! You can't get Her! You won't!" She squeezed a little, until he choked on his words. "Don't kill me!" he pleaded.

"Then tell me who she is."

"All right," he said, his whole demeanor changing. "I take you to Her. She wants you anyway. I tell you everything, if I live." His smug grin was back.

"Why should I believe you? For all I know, you could be working for her."

"No!" he shouted, looking angry. He dropped his voice until she had to lean forward to hear him. "I kill Her. She used me and gave me up to die. She'll kill me, if I don't kill Her first. I can't kill Her if I'm dead."

"Fine, you tell me, and I won't kill you."

He giggled, sharp and maniacal, and she almost dropped him. "I don't trust you! You take me with you, then we both be safe."

Melissa tilted her head slightly, considering it. Wendell would certainly disagree, but the little imp had a point. Whatever information they could get on this 'Soul Ravager' could only help them kill her. And she had to die. Melissa would see to that personally.

"Deal. But I'm not untying you." She set up back on the ground, and Sport stalked up to him, hissing in the imp's face.

"It's gonna eat me!" Grojavek screamed.

"No he won't. We're leaving now and he's not coming with us. You'll be safe enough." She picked Sport up, and walked out of the room, the imp cursing behind her. A passing servant directed her to Wendell's door. Melissa knocked loudly.

After a short pause, she heard muffled footsteps and then, "Yes?"

She swallowed down the knot in her throat before answering. "Wendell, it's me. We need to leave. Now."

"Melissa?" He opened the door and blinked at her. He was wearing a long shirt, and his curls were tousled from sleep. He looked handsome and well rested, and for some reason it irritated her. "Is something wrong?"

"Except Terry being dead?" she snapped. He winced and she looked down at Sport, instantly regretting her words. "We need to leave as soon as we can," she continued, easing the sharpness in her tone. "That monster is waiting for us, and we owe it to Terry to not waste anymore time. I'm leaving Sport here, too," she added quickly, amazed she could get the words out. "I want you to take him and make sure he's safe. He will be safe, won't he?" She looked into his eyes again, desperate for some comfort.

Wendell nodded slowly. "Of course," he whispered.

"Good. Then let's go," she pleaded.

He nodded again. "Let me just finish getting ready. I'll meet you in the entry hall. Antony is going to give us some supplies, so we have to wait for those."

Melissa shoved Sport into his arms, the cat meowing as she did so. "Leave him with Tony for me. Please." Wendell nodded, cradling the cat in his arms. She knew she'd never be able to hand Sport over to a stranger herself. "Bye, Sporty," she said, kissing the top of his head. Any more, she knew, and she'd burst into tears. She turned, and without a look back, retreated to her room. She could still hear Sport crying as she shut the door behind her.

Wendell arrived in the entry hall, not surprised to see Melissa glaring impatiently at him. Her moods from yesterday had apparently been whisked away by this overwhelming need to do something, and she already looked ready to explode. He feared what the nearly two day ride would do to her nerves. At least they had the potions. Without them, it would take almost four days, and it was just after lunch now.

"Are you ready?" she demanded once he got close enough.

This trip was going to try his patience,too, he could tell. "Yes. Antony has prepared everything for us already, he regrets he won't be able to see us off." During their brief goodbye earlier the older man had nearly started crying. Wendell knew his friend didn't want to have to do it again. "Why is he here?" he asked, finally seeing the imp.

"Grojavek is coming with us."

"Grojavek?"

"The imp." She had the green creature tucked under her arm, tied with fresh ropes. "He knows who Soul Ravager is, and where we can find her."

"Inesh said everything we'd need to know was at your home, though. Why bring him? He's probably lying."

"I don't think he is. Besides, any extra information can only help us kill her."

"Melissa, I really --"

"I don't care, Wendell!" She stepped forward, her eyes flashing stormy gray. "He's coming with us. I'll deal with him."

"We're in this together, Melissa, whether you want my help or not. I don't want him coming along. He can't be trusted."

"I trust him."

He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from saying something insulting. "Are you sure you've thought about this?"

"Jesus Christ," she muttered. "I'm not a lunatic, Wendell. Yes, I'm upset that Terry died, but I'm mad, too. And I won't let you stop me from going. And I won't let you stop Grojavek from going, either. You can stay."

"I'm coming."

"Whatever." Melissa turned and strode outside.

Wendell followed, jogging to catch up with her. "Did you eat?"

She glanced at him, then away. "Yeah."

"Truly?"

"No."

He sighed and let it drop. It was easier for him to understand her situation, remembering as he did what it had been like when his own parents had been murdered. He hadn't done anything for a week, other than lay in his room all day. And although the hysteria he saw brimming in Melissa's eyes worried him, at least she was moving around.

They mounted the horses in silence and a servant handed up the half full bottle to him.

"They'll need it ag'n tomorra' afternoon" the man told him. "Be careful, yer Highness."

"Thank you."

The man nodded and backed away, and Wendell urged his horse with a slight pressure. The horse shot forward and Wendell had to grab on to keep from losing his saddle. The potions, it seemed, were working.

Glancing behind him occasionally to make sure Melissa kept up, Wendell let the horse run without stopping. He kept a close eye on both mounts, but neither seemed to need the rest. He stopped once to let them all drink from a nearby stream and then they continued riding until nightfall, stopping once it got too dark to see. He went about setting up a campsite and tending to the horses, but they seemed no more winded than after a normal day of riding. It was a great boon from Antony, and he would have to remember to properly reward his friend later.

Melissa sat on the ground talking softly with the imp while Wendell moved about them. He caught a few words as he passed by, but they never meant anything to him. As he stoked the fire to crackling life, he wondered if she would bother to share his confidence anymore. His heart twisted inside, and he inhaled deeply to calm himself. The air was warm and smelled of dirt and leaves, but it didn't soothe the king. Was any hope they had for a future gone now, eaten away by loss and revenge? He snapped a twig in two and threw both pieces into the fire, and watched them bounce out again, smoldering. Had the giant killed both Terry and Melissa that day?

He looked over at the woman who was half his soul, wishing he could save her. This need of hers frightened and worried him, and he didn't have the faintest idea of what to do about it. Or what to do about Soul Ravager. They had to find the answers in Melissa's home or they would never win. He certainly didn't trust this Grojavek. It was an imp, for troll's sake! Not that Melissa would know not to trust him, he thought to himself. Does she even understand what her past means? He watched her as she chewed aimlessly on a piece of bread, sharing part of it with the imp. She was staring at the fire but her eyes were glassy and distant. She's a princess now, with land and people. But she still has a whole life in the Tenth Kingdom. One she'll want to go back to, I'm sure. He didn't think she loved him enough to stay. He wasn't sure she loved him at all.

Wendell leapt to his feet, ignoring her startled cry and going to the horses. He needed her, like flowers needed the sun, and yet she would leave him when this was all over and he wouldn't be able to stop her. If staying made her miserable -- how could he force her into doing so? If he hadn't seen the look in her eyes the night at Aileen's, he'd be tempted to give up on his love now, not that his heart would let him do that easily. But there had been something there ... something he hoped she'd recognize.

He pulled out a comb and started brushing down his horse, a big, bay gelding with a wide chest and long legs. The horse nickered softly, shifting from foot to foot. The steady movement eased Wendell's pain a little, let his mind release thoughts of the future to concentrate on the present. He missed Teresa, when he thought of her. She'd obviously been a tremendous woman, and one of the kindest people he'd ever met. And, in some small way, he'd wished she could have met Antony. They would have been an interesting pair. Teresa would have known what to say to Melissa, to get her to calm down and just think.

Wendell leaned his forehead against the horse, breathing in the thick scents. Teresa wasn't here. It was just him and Melissa and this Grojavek, going to face an enemy they knew nothing about. "Well that's just perfect," he murmured, straightening. He finished brushing down his horse, and then did Melissa's smaller black horse as well, giving all his concentration to the simple task. It didn't work very well to clear away his worries, but it passed time he wouldn't be able to spend sleeping.

When he returned to Melissa, she was already asleep, Grojavek lying next to her. The imp's eyes were open and watched Wendell closely.

"If you lie to us, I will kill you myself," Wendell said softly.

Grojavek squeaked and his eyes rolled back in his head. It wasn't until after Wendell had finished eating that the imp finally spoke.

"I not lying. I want to kill Her too."

Wendell grunted. "Make sure that's all you do." He ate a small meal and then lay down on his blanket. Another full day and a half of riding waited for them. More time to think and worry and wonder, and then there would be no time left at all. He watched Melissa across the fire for a long time, studying her face, her forehead creased even in sleep. Next to her, Grojavek had finally gone to sleep and was snoring, loudly for a creature so small.

In Wendell's dreams that night, his worries had free rein. Imps and mermaids and horrific monsters danced and scampered around him as he held Melissa in his arms. And when he looked down at her, she was as pale and still as Teresa had been, blood covering her lovely face. He woke up at dawn, sweating and calling her name.

Grojavek's arms had fallen asleep again. He tried to wiggle his fingers and had no idea if he succeeded or not. They had been riding all day, and no one paid any attention to him. Of course, no one spoke more than a few sentences most of the ride anyway. The woman had gotten all of the information Groj was going to give last night. Now it seemed she was done with him.

Good, he thought, trying to spit. The horse jolted as he did so, and most of the liquid dripped down his chin onto his green chest, tickling him. The imp sighed heavily, feeling the rope dig further into his skin. He would demand that she set him free tonight! This was getting out of hand. Muklavuk silently agreed with him.

Groj liked being smarter. It made problems like these less scary. Normally he'd be too terrified to even think about what the night would be like, let alone how he would be making demands. This being courageous had its good points.

Still, he decided it would have been better to be home rather than in the situation at all.

The two humans stopped the horses for the night, and the woman untied Groj from the saddle, setting him down on the ground while Wendell did whatever it was humans did when they camped. Imps always used the trees and leaves and dug in for the night. The humans were much more obnoxious than that, of course.

Wriggling his shoulders, Grojavek felt life start to tingle back into them, and everywhere they touched rope, they burned with the magic of awakening. Groj hopped up and down, tears leaking from his eyes as he giggled at the strange pain. The feeling passed after a torturous minute and he collapsed to the ground, panting.

The woman sat down next to him and silently untied one of his arms, handing him some food. He grabbed it quickly, stuffing the stale bread into his mouth. It took him a long time to eat. A big mouth would be useful sometimes, he thought.

"I want to tell you about Rob."

Groj looked up, but the woman was staring at King Wendell, who had come and sat down across the fire from them. King Wendell. Groj shook his head, feeling his ears flap softly against his skin. What terrible luck did he have to run into King Wendell? But then Grojavek giggled happily, earning a stern glare from the two humans. He looked away from them, his lips still pulled back in a grin. Muklavuk had helped him turn even that elf-all situation into something glorious. If his hands had been free, he would have clapped them together with excitement. She would die. All of them would! All but Grojavek.

"May I ask why?"

Stifling his happiness, Grojavek settled down, leaning against the woman's pack so Muklavuk could listen to the conversation.

"I want someone to know." She was quiet, and Grojavek watched her, but the light from the fire was unsteady in her eyes. "In case something happens to me with Soul Ravager."

"Don't say that!" The imp thought Wendell's anger was predictable.

"It could happen. And ... I want you to know. I would feel better if I didn't hide this from you."

Humans were such complicated creatures.

"If it helps you..."

"It will." She continued after a quick breath, "Rob and I were married when I was nineteen and foolish. He was twenty-six, and an established, well-respected actor. And just the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. We both liked to party and he was good to me, on the surface. The media -- the newspaper reporters?" Grojavek and Wendell both nodded in understanding. "They loved it. The newspapers in our world like nothing better than to pry into actors' and actresses' lives. And when you take the two most popular at the time ... well, what else would you expect? I think we were pressured into getting married, almost." She shook her head fiercely. "I'm not going to blame any of my decisions on anyone else, though. I decided to marry him, and he made the same decision about me.

"The next three years are a predictable story. An on-and-off relationship with lots of passion and even more fighting. It was the most free publicity I'd ever received. Rob started taking drugs, um, pills and other things he thought would make him feel better," she looked up, and when Groj looked over at Wendell, the king was nodding again, "and he started to change. He got crazier. He got meaner, too."

"Melissa-"

"It's all right. This story doesn't bother me anymore. Not after all that's happened."

They were both quiet again for awhile.

"Rob hit me one night. He'd been threatening me for weeks -- that's when I got Sport -- and he finally just went over the edge. I left immediately, of course. I had enough money and power that I didn't need to take abuse from him, and Terry would have dragged me out by my hair anyway. He called me a few nights later, and he was completely sloshed."

"Sloshed?"

"Drunk. He'd been drinking all three days, apparently. Anyway, he called and said -- I'll never forget it -- he said 'It's all your fault. I hope you're happy, I've done this for you.' Then he hung up. When I tried to call him back, his phone was off the hook. The next morning, they found the body of a young woman, hell, a girl really, in the trash outside his property." Grojavek perked up, more interested now that there was talk of bodies, especially human bodies.

"There was a huge investigation, and he was let off. Can you believe it? Let off. But he had been the one who called and reported the body, and the police didn't want to arrest someone with that much power. His last movie had been the top-grossing movie of all time, and they weren't going to fight that money with only circumstantial evidence. He may have been drunk when he called me, but when he cleaned up in the morning, he sure got smart. No fingerprints, murder weapon, witnesses, nothing. Just me. I went into long talks with my publicity agents and lawyers, we held meetings with his people, I had several death threats sent to my home. Everyone I knew -- every last person, Wendell, even Terry -- told me just to keep quiet, that to do anything would only put me in danger and accomplish nothing. I knew it was him, though. And do you know what I did Wendell? I did nothing. I let it slide by, and the death threats, and the press, and the moment passed. And Rob walked free."

She seemed to be having trouble breathing, and Grojavek cursed softly at her for leaving out the best parts. He had wanted to hear how the woman had been killed, and what this Rob was like. Wendell stood up and came around to the woman's other side, kneeling down next to her, but she held out her hand to keep him away.

"I made my choices, Wendell. I don't need any pity, not when that girl died and I kept on living in my nice house with my perfect life. If you feel sorry for anyone, it should be her. I don't deserve pity. You don't know what it's like to go to bed every night, knowing you hold the key to someone's revenge in your hands, and unable to do anything about it." She was staring at the fire, and Groj suspected she saw only the girl's body.

"That's why you want to go after Soul Ravager."

"Yes." She hissed the word in such a voice that Grojavek shrank back into the folds of the backpack to hide himself. He had never heard so much feeling in one word.

No one said anything after that, and the fire slowly died while they all sat around it, thinking. The imp wasn't sure what the other two were considering, but he was looking carefully at Muklavuk's plans. The woman sitting next to him, his captor now, frightened him almost as much as She did. If he weren't so sure that the Great Imp King was going to help him, he'd back out now. They had plans that went beyond what the humans wanted, but Groj wasn't so sure this woman wouldn't just kill him if he betrayed her.

Do it quickly, Muklavuk advised. And at the right time.

How will I know?, he wailed to himself.

I will tell you. She is not the only one who knows of revenge.

The woman re-tied his hand and stretched out on her blanket, while King Wendell sat for a long time and stared around at nothing. It was boring enough that the imp even started to forget his fear, and he found himself falling asleep. Maybe, he thought to himself, just before he started dreaming, I won't have to kill the humans...