"Triss, Triss, Triss." Thomas said in a singsong voice. Her feet were dangling an inch from the floor, Thomas's arm crushing into her chest making it hard to breathe. She clawed at his arm, trying to breathe. "What a naughty girl." His grin was manic, his eyes wild. "Breaking your promise after only a couple hours?" He shook his head in mock sadness, putting on an exaggerated frown.

"Let. Go." She managed to sputter, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Thomas growled, lifting her higher. "Why should I?" He snarled. "Let you go so you can run away again? Mother was right. You're just like all the other girls. You just pretend." His other hand grasped the dress at her hip. "I should just treat you like the other girls. They ran away too." He laughed. "They didn't get far either."

Triss continued to struggle, holding tight to Thomas's arm to make it easier to breathe. He watched her, like a kid would watch an ant burning under a magnifying glass. Suddenly, he dropped her. She collapsed, crashing into the bedside table and sprawling onto the floor. Her hand landed on a piece of the vase, slicing into her palm. She scrambled back, moving sideways away from Thomas and leaving a trail of blood on the wet floor.

Her back hit a wall and she sat, clutching her bleeding hand to her chest. Thomas came, towering over her. He stood, watching. Then he bent down, his hand disappearing into his robe and coming back with a wicked looking black handled dagger. Triss pressed harder against the wall as Thomas grabbed the bottom of her dress. The dagger flashed, reflecting the light from his orb as he plunged it into the fabric. He pulled and sliced, taking a strip from the bottom and throwing it at her. "For your hand." He explained. "I don't have time to teach you a proper lesson." He grinned again. "Maybe later."

Triss looked at the strip of cloth he'd thrown to her. It was stained with dirt and dry blood, only a trace of the original yellow still faintly visible. She nearly protested, the cloth sure to make her wound infected. Instead, she wound the cloth around her bleeding hand, tight enough to stop the flowing blood. She tucked one end under the wraps to keep it in place, her fingers slipping, making it difficult.

Thomas waited impatiently for her to finish. When she finally got the bandage secure, she stood up, glaring at Thomas. He grinned in response, then waved his wand. A light formed then settled over her. She was surprised to see she wasn't bound. "not going to tie me up?" She asked.

"No need. I've placed a locater spell on you. Run again, and I'll find you." He chuckled darkly. "And next time, I'll make time to teach you a lesson." He pointed the wand towards the door. "Let's go."

They left the bedroom and started down the hallway. Thomas's light orb filled the halls with bright light, so Triss left the hall orbs off. She wasn't going to help him. It took about twenty minutes to make it back to where she had run. "We must be getting close." Thomas said. "There should only be one floor above us."

Triss didn't answer. They continued down the halls, checking doors until they found another stairwell, which they climbed. Soon after, they came across the ritual room where Triss had arrived. Thomas walked into this room and looked around for a while, examining the pots and jars on the shelves. "Very well stocked." He mused. "Low on a few essentials, but lots of high magic rarities. This should do."

They left the room, and Thomas closed the door behind them. "That should make it easier to find again." He said.

Triss just shrugged. Thomas's face clouded over with irritation for a moment before he schooled it and out on a fake smile. "The library must be close." He turned and strode away.

Triss was surprised when they found the library less than ten minutes later. She had thought it would have been further away. Apparently Reginald thought quite highly of his ability to hide her, since they had been so close to Percival the day they cleaned the rafters. She idly wondered again what had happened to the voice in her head. She meant to ask Reginald about it but had forgotten.

The library was smaller than she would have imagined. It was only the size of a normal bedroom, with dark wooden bookshelves stuffed with tomes covering every wall. Stacks of books sat in one corner, like the world's strangest Jenga stack. There was a single chair in the center of the room, a plush highbacked chair, made of some type of dark green leather. A small table sat beside it, holding a large blue book and a half cup of tea. On the side of the room, nearly hidden by the shelves was another wooden door.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Thomas turned to the nearest shelf, scanning book titles. He had to pull some that were shelved backwards, their dog-eared pages facing the room. "What organising system is this?" He muttered. "Evocation right next to necromancy?" He pulled another book that had been shelved backwards, glancing at the spine. "A book on magical creatures?" He hurled the book across the room in frustration. "It's all random!" He cried. "Why wouldn't he sort the books somehow?"

Triss studied the shelves. There was something strange about them. It came to her in a flash. "Colour." She said. Thomas spun to look at her. "He organized them by colour." It was hard to notice at first, most of the books being a uniform brown and the ones that weren't being dimly coloured.

Thomas stared around the room. "Colour?" He finally snapped. "Colour? Who organises by colour?" He hurled another book, then returned to the shelf. All the books on there were shades of dusky green, Triss observed.

She wandered around the room, checking titles idly. 'Demon summoning for absolute novices', 'So you're a Lich. Now what?', and 'Englebert's guide to love potions' were a few that stood out to her. The thought of Percival making love potions made her laugh out loud. "What's so funny?" Thomas snapped, turning to her with a book in hand.

"Nothing." She replied, continuing to browse.

"Well then, keep your mouth shut. I'm trying to concentrate here." He growled, holding the book like he was considering throwing it at her. Triss pretend to ignore him, and he eventually turned back to his work, tossing the book on the floor.

Triss browsed for a few more minutes, then made her way to the chair and flopped down. She looked over at the blue book sitting on the table. It had no writing on the spine. She picked it up and flipped to the first page. She nearly gasped aloud when she read it. The pages were covered with tight handwritten script in three columns, one listing types of books in alphabetical order, the next a color followed by the title. This must be how Percival ordered his books. She flipped through the pages and they were all the same three columns.

"What do you have there?" Thomas had noticed her reading.

"Oh, nothing. It's just a book on...potions?" She finished lamely. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he strode across the room and snatched it from her hands. He smiled as he began reading, then flipped through the pages quickly, obviously searching for something specific. He stopped on one page, finger sliding down the page. Then he turned and stepped over to a shelf with dark brown books and studied the shelf, eventually finding a book and removing it. He placed it on the table beside Triss and then continued looking down the page of the guidebook. He eventually had a stack of four books, and seemed satisfied with that.

"Move." He ordered, and Triss vacated the chair. He collapsed into it, grabbing the first book in his pile and skimming through it.

Triss went back to looking at the books. Her circuit around the room eventually brought her to the side door, which she opened. Inside was a washroom, just like the one in her room. Apparently Percival spent long periods of time in here, choosing a room that would allow him to keep studying. There was a counter with a sink right next to the door, and a few books were stacked haphazardly on one corner.

After a while she got tired of browsing. Actually, she realized, she was just tired. It was probably getting close to morning, and now that the adrenaline of the evening had worn off she was completely exhausted. She sat down on the floor and leaned against the bookshelf, making sure to position herself directly behind Thomas. He was still completely engrossed in his studies.

The books dug into her back, and the floor was cold and hard. She decided to try and sleep anyways. If Thomas stayed up and she slept, it could possibly give her a small advantage. Yeah, right. A couple hours sleep on a hard floor is going to give me an advantage over a fully trained wizard. She thought

She sighed, then tried making a pillow out of a couple thicker books so she could lay down. It wasn’t any better.She tried to distract herself, thinking about Jonal, and Nert, and coffee. Mmmm. Coffee. Reginald made her coffee. That thought brought on a wave of sadness that really wasn’t helpful for falling asleep. What else could she think about?

Finally, she thought about the one thing she had somehow ignored for the last two months. Home. She was pretty sure she wasn’t going to survive this thing with Thomas. He was completely insane, like Ted Bundy levels of insane. She knew he wanted to go home. If Percival couldn’t do it, what were the chances of a nut job like Thomas managing it?

Two months. What did her family think? Her mom and dad, or her big sister? They all worried about her already, since she couldn’t seem to hold down a job. Would they think she drove into a river and died? Got kidnapped? Well, that part was actually true, but definitely not in the way they would think.

She lay on the hard stack of books, the cold stones slowly seeping the heat from her body. She thought about holidays, about times spent joking around with friends, about watching movies on the couch with her mom. Tears puddled on the books, soaking the side of her face. She didn’t care. She thought of all the happy times at home. And somehow, in the midst of all this, she managed to smile. She couldn’t make new happy memories with her family or friends. But she had the ones she had made. She would always have the memories.

“I’VE GOT IT!” Thomas screamed, leaping out of his chair. Triss’s head shot up, rousing from sleep in a second. She had been sleeping? Could she maybe, ignore Thomas and do more of that? Thomas was dancing around the room, singing a song she didn’t recognize. So, not something she could ignore. She shivered, realizing that she was absolutely chilled to the bone. She got up quickly, then swayed and nearly fell, grabbing a shelf for support. Suddenly Thomas was there, grabbing her hands and pulling on her while bouncing. “I got it!” He said, beaming.

“You’ve got it?” Triss asked, a little foggy still from waking up. “Where was it? What is it?”

“The final piece!” He replied. “I finally found the final piece!”

“Piece of what?”

“The spell I need to take us home!”