Epoch Read Online Free PDF Page B

compared with what they’d do.
    “Help!” Vincent cried. “Somebody help me!”
    “Well, look who’s awake.”
    It was Grimbowl’s voice, but Vincent couldn’t see him.
    “Help!” Vincent screamed. “I’m up in a tree, and … ow!” His jaw stung from what had felt like a kick.
    “Stop that,” Grimbowl said. “You’re wasting your breath, anyway. Nobody can hear you up in this tree.”
    “They can’t?” Vincent said.
    “All the leaves of this tree are affected by our magic,” Grimbowl said, and Vincent could just make out the elf’s arm gesturing expansively at the branches. “It’s kind of like the dust Optar threw in your face. That stuff was set to make you sleep, just as the leaves are set to keep in sound.”
    “I see. Interesting,” Vincent said. And inconvenient for me, he thought. “How long have I been hanging here?”
    “About three hours,” Grimbowl told him.
    “Three hours?” Vincent barked. “Let me down from here right now!” He renewed his struggling, panic overriding common sense.
    “Stop that,” Grimbowl said, kicking Vincent’s face again. “You’ll never break free. The grass we made the ropes from are set to not break.”
    “Stop kicking me,” Vincent said, his body swinging back and forth from the blow. “I have to get home, or I’ll be in deep trouble.”
    “You’re already in deep trouble,” Grimbowl pointed out.
    “Not as deep as I will be,” Vincent said.
    “Aren’t you the least bit scared of what we’re going to do with you?” Grimbowl asked.
    “Not really, no,” Vincent replied. In truth, he simply hadn’t made time to worry about it. Currently, all his brain had space for were the consequences of getting home late.
    Although, now that he thought about it, being hung from a branch of a soundproofed tree by fantasy creatures who might decide to kill him wasn’t exactly a cakewalk.
    “You’re even dumber than I thought,” Grimbowl said. “Are you sure he’s the one you saw, Plimpton?”
    “Yes,” said a voice from behind Grimbowl. “He’s the one from that school science fair.”
    Vincent’s eyes were adjusting to the dark, and he could make out Grimbowl’s form standing on a platform built into the tree. The new speaker appeared from the shadows behind Grimbowl, and he moved to stand beside him.
    “He looked right at me, saw me,” Plimpton went on. “He must be one of the more open-minded humans.”
    “Then he is perfect,” said another voice, and a third elf joined the group.
    “Who are you?” Vincent asked. The new elf sounded wise and old, just like the one who’d konked him with the fairy dust.
    “I,” the wise, old elf said, “am Optar, the tribal advisor to Chief Megon.”
    “Hooray for you,” Vincent said. “Will you let me down now?”
    “No,” Optar said. “We have need of a human agent, someone to interact with your world in ways that we cannot. You shall be that agent.”
    “What if I say no?” Vincent said, though he suspected he had very little choice in the matter.
    “To ensure your compliance,” Optar said, “we shall administer an obyon.”
    “A what?” Vincent asked. He could see that something sat in the palm of Optar’s hand. He couldn’t see what it was, but there was definitely something there.
    “An obyon,” Grimbowl said, “is a magical creature that we put inside your body.”
    “It monitors your thoughts,” Optar said, “and corrects you if you disobey us.”
    “Corrects me?” Vincent said.
    “Remember when I kicked your leg?” Grimbowl said. “This is worse. A lot worse.”
    “With an obyon in your body, you cannot defy or betray us,” Optar said, walking forward and extending the something toward Vincent’s face. “Hold still, it won’t hurt going in.”
    “No way!” Vincent said, swinging himself away from the elves. “You’re not sticking anything in me.”
    “It’s either this,” Grimbowl said, “or we leave you here until you die.”
    Vincent stopped