Vetta stood looking up at the hole above her and realised she had fallen into a trap prepared for her.
"Why have you done this to me?" she cried, rubbing a bruised elbow.
"Are you hurt?" the blue-haired girl asked in concern as to the other's surprise she jumped down into the hole as well so they were both trapped. Lighting a torch, she then flipped what appeared to be a trapdoor shut and fastened it with a pole.
"Not really," came a reluctant reply.
"Good, then follow me and I'll explain everything." With that she marched off down the tunnel's mouth, using the torch to light the way. "This is an old mine," she explained the origin of the underground passage they were walking along. "Abandoned some time ago and found by my people. Very useful for getting about without being seen."
"Why do you not want to be seen?" Vetta asked, taking in the strange sights and smells of the place as she walked next to her captor. The odour of damp earth filled her nostrils.
"We're the Blue Hair Clan," the girl laughed scornfully. "Everyone is against us because we don't fit in. Soon as they see one of us they chuck things our way. If we're lucky it's something useful and we get to keep it."
"It is wrong to steal," Vetta felt compelled to say. "Where are you taking me?"
"To a hideaway deep in the forest," came the reply. "And we don't steal. I used that statue thing to lure you away from the others so I could capture you. Worked a treat as you're such an inquisitive little body. Been watching you I have and noticed right off. Thought you would be the ideal victim."
"Are you going to sacrifice me?" Vetta gasped.
"Oh dear. You are a strange one," came the laughing reply again. "Mind that skull." This warning came too late and in her fright Vetta tumbled over the gruesome thing on the floor of the tunnel with an impressive scream.
"It's a skeleton!" she gasped, once the initial shock had subsided. "There are dead people down here. Was that one of your victims?"
"Don't mind old bonehead," the other laughed. "He's been down here guarding the tunnel for years. Keeps superstitious people away." The girl then helped her up and Vetta brushed the dirt off, grateful and frightened all at once.
"Helping others is a kind of generosity, which is one of the five well-springs of joy," she said with a nervous stutter. It was as if making this pronouncement strengthened her courage to go on in the difficult situation she found herself in. The blue-haired girl grunted, not sure what she meant.
"Not far now. I can see the steps already," she decided to respond instead. With that she moved on ahead as if not caring if Vetta ran the other way. Then the captive girl remembered the pit she had fallen into was unscalable so she was trapped anyway. Thus she followed obediently and climbed the rough cut steps behind the other girl, up through planking and into a well-lit room full of homely furniture and bundles of fabric.
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"Is this where you live?" she asked uncertainly. The girl snorted as she moved some seats around so that two faced each other in the simple room. There were no windows and light came from two lanterns hung from low rafters.
"What? In this old log cabin? Certainly not. This is where we bring our victims," she said in a disturbingly sinister voice. Then she laughed again.
"Why are you keeping me captive?" Vetta pursued, ignoring the unpleasant word used to describe her. "Are you holding me for ransom? That is like stealing things. You said you did not steal, but holding a person captive is the same as stealing." She stopped, out of breath from the flurry of accusing words, and sat upon the nearest chair.
"Well, you are a one," the girl said, impressed.
"One what?" Vetta was trying hard not to cry. She wondered if anyone was searching for her yet, or even if they would bother, so forlorn she felt at this moment.
"For speaking your mind when you have something on your mind to say. That takes great courage." The blue-haired girl sat on the simple wooden chair opposite Vetta and looked earnestly into her eyes. For the first time Vetta noticed she had hazel eyes flecked with gold. They were pretty she decided, and wondered what her true hair colour was. "Listen. What I have done this evening is not stealing. It is an exchange, a fair exchange. I have something you want and you have something I want."
"What have you got that I want?" Vetta asked in all innocence.
"Your freedom you buffoon," the girl said, shaking her head.
"You stole it from me," the girl insisted bravely, eliciting an impatient sigh from the other.
"Listen," she said again, more abruptly. "Two years ago my people came to this area on their travels, circuits we call them, visitations other call them. I was only nine at the time. You cannot imagine how I've counted the years until I was here again. When last here I stole away from the main encampment over at Cloven Skull and watched all you girls about your schooling. So fine you looked, so knowledgeable, so friendly. How I envied you. For just one second of your life I would have given nine years of mine. Just one second." She lowered her gaze then and her eyes roamed over the scattering of pine needles on the wooden floor.
"I wasn't here two years ago," Vetta said, puzzled.
"Not you personally, you girls. You extremely exclusive girls. The things you must know. The things you must see, out there, in the wider world, coming from distant Winkels through storm barriers. I have only travelled as far as I can walk and see nothing but the stars above. Imagine travelling to them!"
"They are the same everywhere," Vetta observed offhandedly, but there was a growing sense of what was troubling this strange girl with blue hair. It was what her father scornfully called shop window syndrome, yearning after something you could not possible have. Yet there was something within her that ached to help the girl, to relieve that yearning so she could be at peace.
"Our Frangea stars are special," the girl insisted, but then, having never left this land she could not know otherwise Vetta conceded.
"What do you want me to do?" Vetta asked, swallowing. "In exchange for my freedom."
"You do know I'm not really holding you hostage?" the girl replied unexpectedly and Vetta sat up straighter and looked around the cabin. A door opposite seemed unlocked. "That's right," the other said. "You can walk out any time. I won't stop you." Her eyes were sad and worried and pleading all at once and Vetta knew she really was a hostage, a hostage of her own good nature, for she wanted to help this girl any way she could. She wanted to see her smile in a way that was not scornful or dismissive, but through a genuine sense of happiness. Vetta Mindal was a captive indeed.
"I'll do what you ask," Vetta said bravely. "Though I do not know what it is."
"Are you hungry?" came another unexpected question. The blue-haired girl seemed to skirt what bothered her most, as if ashamed of herself.
"I have missed the evening meal," Vetta realised, an emptiness making itself known by this realisation.
"Then share a meal with me. Share a moment of your extremely exclusive time, and make this wandering girl feel a little of the magic of your world. That's all I ask."
"I might be able to do this," and when Vetta smiled, the blue-haired girl smiled too so that a bond of friendship was forged that would last longer than worlds.