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interest was the bookcase.
    On the wall opposite the bed was a built-in
bookcase. I ran my hand along the bindings, reading the titles. The
owner of this house had varied interests if these books were any
indication. There were books on history, classic literature,
science, and then there were some I couldn’t make out, being in the
Elven language.
    So much had happened in so little time. I was
finding my breathing restricted, as if an invisible hand was
closing upon my throat. I needed fresh air to clear my head and
come up with a plan, so I walked to the door leading out of the
room. I needed to escape my current confines and figure out what I
was going to do. I put my hand on the doorknob and was about to
open it when I heard voices on the other side. I still wasn’t sure
where or with whom I was with so I put my ear against the door to
listen.
    “We can’t move her anytime soon. We need more
time,” a female voice said.
    “Elena’s right. At the minimum, we need three
more months,” an older male grumbled.
    I recognized John’s voice when he answered
their concerns. “Are you sure? That’s the soonest you’ll be ready
for her?”
    “Yes. We’re already rushing to get it done
that soon,” the woman, Elena, responded.
    “I guess I have no choice. Mags will stay
here then. I don’t trust her safety to anyone else,” John
offered.
    “What about…She’s awake.” the gruff male’s
voice stiffened.
    I gasped and backed away from the door as
silently as I could. I don’t know who exactly was on the other side
of that door and I didn’t want them knowing I was eavesdropping. I
wasn’t able to make out the end of the conversation, only the
shuffling of feet and a door closing.
    The doorknob slowly turned and John peeked
his head in. “Hey Violet, are you alright?” he asked.
    Physically I was fine. Emotionally, I wasn’t
sure. “I don’t know. So much has happened. It all seems so
surreal.”
    John’s body fully emerged from the door and
walked over to me, stopping about a foot away. He was wearing a
white v-neck sweater that clung tightly to his body, and jeans. His
hair was disheveled and a shadow of stubble was just appearing on
his face. Any other time, I may have stopped to appreciate the
rugged look on him, but all I had were questions.
    “What’s going to happen to me?” I asked.
    He raised one eyebrow in amusement, “What do
you think is going to happen to you?”
    “Well,” I started, “I’m pretty sure you’re
not going to kill me or turn me over to those who will, even though
you know what I am. Aside from that, I don’t know.”
    John laughed. “That’s a pretty fair
assumption. Besides, if I bared you any ill will, I would have left
you in that diner to the Aelfadl.”
    I couldn’t argue with that.
    “Why don’t you come with me into the living
room, have a cup of tea and we can talk about it.” He opened the
door with a sweep of his arm. “After you.”
    The living room was just as sparsely
decorated as the bathroom. Aside from the usual accoutrements of a
couch, coffee table, and rocking chair, there was nothing to
signify the personality of its owner.
    I sat on the edge of the couch, still a bit
apprehensive, but much more relaxed than I had been in the past
twenty-four hours. John returned a few minutes later, with two mugs
in hand and sat down beside me.
    “Here,” he handed me one of the mugs. “It’s
chamomile. I kinda figured you could use its calming
properties.”
    “Oh yeah, I guess so,” I laughed
nervously.
    John put his hand on my arm. “Mags, you can
relax. You’re safe here.” He lifted his head to meet my eyes and
gave me a small smile. His emerald eyes betrayed his feelings,
honesty showing itself. Between that and the softness of his voice
I was disarmed. It didn’t hurt that he had used my name instead of
the silly nickname he had christened me with.
    My face flushed, embarrassed to admit I had
listened in on the earlier conversation. “What