Holcra was dragged into the throneroom in chains. Her head was bowed and her feet left a wake of wrinkles in the carpeted floor.
“Kneel before Lady Nashwar!” shouted the guards, throwing her to the ground before the towering figure.
A colossal mega-gargant set before her, dressed in a silken kaftan that was so beautiful, it made even Holcra feel a flutter of self consciousness over her simple furs. Bowls full of fresh-smelling herbs encircled her as she sat cross legged on a low bench, her brow furrowed in deep thought as she pet an enormous, sleeping feline on her lap.
Long minutes passed without a word from the gargant. Holcra glanced up at her guards, but they resolutely ignored her. The silence dragged agonizingly on. She was a being of action and movement. Patience had never been one of her virtues. Eventually, she stared up at the gargant, jutted out her chin and yelled up to her. “What do you want with me?”
“Information, darling. What else?” came the languid reply.
Holcra looked about in surprise. The mega-gargant had not spoken. She had still not looked up from her pet, but the beast was now awake and staring right at her with three gleaming eyes.
Sphiranx. Holcra thought.
“That’s right,” the feline said with a grin. “I’m surprised you’ve heard of us, especially out in the backwaters of Ghur. You are a native to Ghur, aren’t you Holcra?”
Holcra snapped her mind shut like a Throndian fly-trap. The beast must have been reading her thoughts while she was impatiently enduring the silence. Well no more. She was a woman of Ghur and would not have her private thoughts read by some foppish beast.
“If you’re asking me that, you already know.” she replied gruffly.
The cat’s grin widened, “I do, and I also know that you have no idea where you are.”
“No, I was hunting for meatgrubs when the land shifted, I was near my hermitage but all the landmarks were different. The hills changed. The path disappeared. Even the birdsong was off,” she scowled at the sphiranx, “and then your thugs came and knocked me out.”
“In their defence, you did ambush them. Many are in the infirmary as we speak.”
“Serves them right for trespassing in my territory. A hermit’s land is sacrosanct, everyone knows that.”
“Oh but they weren’t in your territory. You were in mine. This,” the sphiranx looked about her, “is Chamon.”
Holcra felt her stomach lurch. “No, that’s not possible. There aren’t any realmgates near my home. I can still feel Ghur, it still speaks to me, I can still feel its heartbeat.”
“I know you can. Isn’t it strange?” The sphiranx stood up from the gargant’s lap and stretched unhurriedly before hopping down to Holcra’s level. “Now, dear Holcra, my Cabal and I are very interested in this phenomenon you have fallen victim to and we are also interested in the layout of your homeland. So, I’m going to need a little information from you.”
The sphiranx padded closer to Holcra, and her guards began to move away. As she drew nearer, Holcra couldn’t help but notice her extraordinary beauty. Her coat was long and silky, while her eyes were mesmerizing. She tried to stand but she found herself transfixed by the gaze of the creature, unable to move. Her voice came out slowly, she was struggling to form the words.
“I won’t share my knowledge with you, beast. I will-” her head swam, “I will protect my lands with my… with my…” she trailed off.
“Oh that’s sweet of you but I don’t need you to share your knowledge, darling,” said Lady Nashwar as her mind lanced into Holcra’s, “I’m just going to take it.”