Oh, no, no, no. She thought, as she opened her eyes. She was strapped in to a cot, her hands and feet tied. A gag held her tongue tightly, painfully, keeping her from talking. She was completely immobile.
She felt like crying, but she couldn't, as it seemed she had been crying unconsciously, and there was nothing more. Jamie turned her head, and surveyed the room. It was a dome-shaped cave, with rough, uneven walls. She swivelled her head to the left, and saw a circular metal hatch, like the one in the room she had been imprisoned in earlier.
To the right, was another cot, this one holding Mr. Forkle. She should have guessed. It seemed that they were going to either be tortured, or interrogated together. Because what better way to get someone to open up, than by harming someone that they care about?
And sure, she would hate to see this old man be hurt or tortured more, but now, he seemed to be much more valuable, because of his involvement in this secret society. He might be her only chance at escape. And her only chance to discover the truth.
Plus, she wasn't sure if he would be able to take more. His hands and face were covered with purple burns, all of which filled with pus, and a few leaking the sickly yellow liquid. He had a deep cut across both his cheeks, and it looked like it would leave an awful scar.
From what she could hear, his breathing was light.
Now she just had to wait. Would someone come to interrogate her, or would they wait for Mr. Forkle to wake up? Or was she wrong completely? Would they leave the two of them here, bound and gagged, until they eventually starved?
Jamie closed her eyes. And waited.
And waited.
And waited.
She planned a speech in her head. Something she would say to her parents if she ever got back.
I'm sorry, she imagined herself saying. I lost control of myself. I got mad. And we all paid for it. I feel so awful that I caused you guys so much stress and fear. But I want you two to know, that I love you.
Distantly, she wondered if she would ever get home. Or, if by the time she got home, she would still love them. Would she know who her real parents are? Would she dig up sinister truths?
All she could do was hope, as she tucked her mental speech away in her head.
She was about to go back to waiting around with nothing to do, when she remembered something.
Her strange new power to send mental messages to others! Of course, she didn't know how much help a sparkly flying horse would be in this situation, but any help would be good.
Pulling her mental strength into the core of her brain, she prepared a message to send.
Please help me. My name is Jamie Foster, and I have been captured unjustly, with my neighbour, Mr. Forkle.
She readied her strength, and send the message off, shoving it out of her mind, and pushing it as far as her brain would let her. She strained to push it further, groaning as pain spiked through her head.
Jamie relaxed, a headache forming at her temples. She had the urge to rub them with the tips of her fingers, but her bonds kept her from doing that.
Sighing, she opened her eyes. Nothing had changed. She was still in the same, cold damp cave as before. And the same, injured neighbour laid near her.
She shut her eyes again, trying to ward off the waves of hopelessness and misery.
And finally—finally—she heard a groan off to her right. She looked up, to see Mr. Forkle shifting in his bonds. After a moment, his eyes landed on her, and he looked panicked.
He closed his eyes, and a pucker appeared between his eyebrows.
She watched him curiously, until finally he relaxed, and opened his eyes. Her neighbour eyed her, looking sad and helpless.
Jamie released a gentle breath. She had been hoping something better than that would happen. Maybe he would look over her with a confident smile, to tell her that he had contacted help. Or even figured out a plan to get out of this place.
Then Jamie got a brilliant idea. Maybe they couldn't talk to each other because of the gags, but she could probably talk to him with that new thought sending trick of hers. Deciding it was her only option, she closed her eyes, mustering her mental strength, and reaching out to Mr. Forkle.
Hello?
As soon as she sent it, her message bounced right back at her. She tried again, to push the thought right into her neighbours brain, but it was like there was a protective covering around it. That, or he had turned his brain onto 'do not disturb,' mode, and was not receiving messages, which she found very unlikely.
Sighing in defeat, and deflating a bit, she looked over at Mr. Forkle. His eyes were focused on his hand, watching one of the burn blisters, bulging as if it was about to pop.
Judging by his face, which was bent up in a sour look, he was in immense pain.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud clang of a latch being drawn. Then, the door swung open. Four hooded figures stepped through, and formed an ominous semi-circle around Jamie and her neighbour, before three of them drew back their hoods.
She only recognized Gisela, as she stepped forward. She also suspected that the one figure who hung back, and still had his hood up, was the man with the magical voice.
The other two were a man with blond hair and long ears, with pointy tips, and a woman, who also had pointy ears, and wore her dark brown hair in a tight hairnet.
She had the urge to touch their ears, to see if they were fake. But even if she wanted to, there was no way, as she was tied up.
Mr. Forkle just watched the hooded figures glumly. He seemed to know what was to come.
"As it seems that Calio's Belinguer talent has little effect on either of you, we have decided to use a less... gentle method of getting answers." Gisela stared at them menacingly, a cruel smile curling on her lips.
She assumed this "Calio," was the man with the manipulating words. And his powers seemed to be referred to as "Belinguer".
Jamie paused, waiting for what felt like forever. And suddenly, her gag was tugged from her face. Her eyes flew open, to see it floating in front of her. She flexed her jaw, feeling happy to be relieved of the tight fabric.
Any trance of happiness disappeared when the pair of pointy eared people stepped into the space between her and Mr. Forkle. The female placed her fingers delicately on Jamie's forehead, and the man simply stood nearby.
"Jamie Foster, were you, or were you not under Calio's powers during our earlier questioning."
Jamie stared at Ms. Gisela's face. How was this possible? How could her nice neighbour be cruel enough to threaten to hurt her, or this old man?
But it seemed that her fate was sealed. There was no way that she was going to get out of this.
"For the most part, no."
So, it wasn't quite a lie. She had broken his spell just before her interrogation. But Gisela didn't need to know that. The less these kidnappers knew, the better.
But the woman with pale skin and pointy ears next to her, sighed.
"A lie."
Gisela's smile faltered, but then deepened.
"Ah, I suppose we have to teach you not to tell lies, Jamie."
The man next to Mr. Forkle's hand lit up. She couldn't believe it. He was holding a ball of fire.
Her heart dropped to her toes, as he sent it down towards Mr. Forkle's chest.

1343 Words.

Ahhhhh! Thoughts? What do you think will happen? Do you think I'd kill Forkman?
And look at me, I'm actually getting a reasonable number of chapters out!
Let's see how long I can keep this up.

-Wawawa