《The Soul Keeper's Song》 Chapter One Gavin groaned, rolling onto his back. Head throbbing, he propped himself up on an elbow to rub his temples. What the hell¡­? Was he sprawled in the dirt? Something sharp and uncomfortable, like a small stone, poked into his back and he grumbled, forcing his eyes open to look around. He found himself staring straight into the very white face of a grubby, bearded man. The man slowly withdrew his hand from Gavin¡¯s pocket and backed away to join his two companions. Gavin worked his jaw. ¡°Can I help you?¡± he managed, ¡°Piss off.¡± The man furthest back let out a strangled sound and dashed back to an honest to god horse-drawn cart. The other two shared a glance before following and thundering away. Shaking his hands to clear away bad pins and needles, Gavin cussed under his breath. The three had all been dressed like wankers; had he somehow managed to get mugged at a renaissance fair? Come to think of it, where was he? He tried to think back over the last few hours but his head felt¡­ fuzzy. He¡¯d been in the car with¡­ what was her name? He must have been hit hard, how do you forget your girlfriend¡¯s name? They¡¯d been going¡­ gah! Why couldn¡¯t he remember? They hadn¡¯t been going to a renaissance fair, anyway. Gavin appreciated nerd culture and all but tights and faux velvet seemed like a whole lot of hassle. Forcing himself into a sitting position, he fought a wave of nausea. He was going to ¨C nope. He swallowed a mouthful of bile. No siree, no vomiting here, everything was fine. Having mastered sitting, he decided to give standing a go. His legs were like rubber and gave way under him the moment he tried to put any weight on them. Pins and needles roared to life up to his knees and he swore, rubbing his skin and wincing. What had those idiots done to him? He patted down his pockets, to see what they¡¯d taken and his heart sunk as he realised he had no phone or wallet. Also, and perhaps more importantly, the clothes he was wearing were not his.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. He pulled at his shirt. The first thing he noticed is that it was covered in blood, which was not good. It mustn¡¯t have been his though, he couldn¡¯t find any cuts. Oh well. He was pretty sure the shirt was some kind of fitted potato sack. During this inspection, he noticed his arms. Apparently, it was possible to get mugged as a skinny noodle of a bespectacled man and wake up ripped like Channing Tatum. He touched his face, feeling for glasses and wasn¡¯t surprised to find nothing there. No problem. He was pretty sure this was a drug trip. At least, he¡¯d never taken drugs before, so he couldn¡¯t say for certain that this wasn¡¯t what it was like to be on drugs. He must have taken some kind of synthetic designer bullshit. He sat drowsily on the side of the road and barely heard the cart before it drew up alongside him. A man with salt-and pepper hair and a shirt that looked similar to Gavin¡¯s frowned down at him. ¡°Gods, Petar, is that you!?¡± Petar? Sure, why not. The man jumped down from his seat and hoisted Gavin to his feet. ¡°Lyra thought you¡¯d be home days ago,¡± he said as he bundled Gavin into the back of his cart, in between a barrel and a sack of something, ¡°I¡¯ll take you back to your wife, poor man, don¡¯t you worry.¡± ¡°Uh¡­ sure. Wife?¡± The man frowned in concern. ¡°What happened to you?¡± Gavin rested heavily against the barrel. What a truly fantastic question. Chapter Two Drug trip dreams were intense. Gavin walked through a dark space, feeling around blindly. There was nothing anywhere. He had no sense of direction, no concept of where the space he was in began or ended. Suddenly, a dim light appeared before him. Come, boomed a voice from nowhere. A trickling sense of dread ran down his spine. He planted his feet. COME. The voice tore through the nothing in a wave that vibrated his bones. ¡°Fuck this,¡± he muttered. He broke into a run, tearing recklessly through the inky black. He started to panic. Was he even moving? He could have been running on the spot for all he knew. He turned his head to look at the light, which seemed to be coming towards him. Abruptly, he was standing on damp stone. He breathed in stale, musky air as something moved behind him. He saw scale-covered white coils, heard the scratching against the stone. Enormous teeth snapped right in front of him and he screamed, covering his face with his arms¡­If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. *** ¡°Petar!¡± Ouch. Did she have to be so loud? Gavin rubbed at his pounding head with a weary groan. The woman who had cried out stalked across a small room towards a familiar-looking man with salt and pepper hair. The man held up his hands defensively. ¡°I found him like this, Lyra. I don¡¯t know what happened to him. He fell asleep in the wagon when I tried to ask him.¡± The woman clenched her fists but nodded. ¡°Thanks, Tomas. I¡¯ll take care of him from here.¡± She hurried the other man outside and then rounded on Gavin, hands on her hips. He gazed up at her blearily. She was also dressed like a woman out of a history book. She had one of those corset-y things that tied up underneath her breasts and had he been feeling slightly better, he might have found that distracting. As it was, he sagged against the wall. She sighed, apparently deciding to shout at him another time and grabbed him under the armpits to drag him into another room. His mind worked to try and figure out who she was and where he might be but his thoughts were so shrouded in fog. He could remember waking up on the side of the road and things were¡­ wrong. What in the hell was going on now? The woman began to undress him and he swallowed hard. Oh right. Wife. His girlfriend, whatever her name was, was not going to be happy about this. Chapter Three It turned out that being bathed by a stranger wasn¡¯t that sexy after all. The woman who was apparently his wife had hauled him into a standalone metal tub. To start with, it wasn¡¯t exactly comfortable. After pouring tepid water on top of him, she scrubbed at him mercilessly with a rough cloth. Gavin swore as the thing ripped across his back. The woman cuffed him about the head and continued, unperturbed. When she reached¡­ lower down¡­ he yelped, scooting as far from her as he could manage. His cheeks flamed and he held his hands out, defensively. ¡°Stop. Jesus, stop! I don¡¯t even know who you are.¡± She frowned, dropping her hands to her sides. ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ Petar, it¡¯s me. It¡¯s Lyra.¡± Trying to protect his modesty with his hands, Gavin hopped awkwardly out of the bath. ¡°Yeah, well, I¡¯ve never seen you before.¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. Lyra¡¯s entire bearing had turned stiff. She raised her chin. ¡°What happened to you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m buggered if I know. Can I have some clothes?¡± Lips pursed, she turned and started to rummage in a wicker hamper next to the wall. Gavin took the time to look down at himself. He was shredded. Forget six pack, he wouldn¡¯t have felt silly calling his abs a twelve pack. There was a large, puckered scar above his left hipbone. That was kind of cool. He¡¯d never had anything that badass-looking before. Cheeks flushing deeper, he peeked underneath his hands. Interesting. He¡¯d been circumcised before. Lyra turned back to him, shoving a bundle of cloths at him. He had to move his hands to take them. Her eyes fixed on a point below his midline and he turned awkwardly. ¡°Could you not, please?¡± Her frown deepened and she knelt, reaching to touch the scar on his hip. ¡°You didn¡¯t have this when you left.¡± ¡°Hey, hey, hey. No touching. Actually, could you leave?¡± She stood and shot him a dark look that he¡¯d definitely seen on his girlfriend¡¯s face before. He was in trouble alright. Nevertheless, he took the opportunity to get dressed in peace. He needed some space to think. This was the strangest dream he¡¯d ever had.