Waves of pain radiated through the girl's skull, and she dropped to her knees, spots swimming in her vision. She tried to stand up again, but the whole world seemed to be out of balance at that point, and she staggered to one side, bumping against the wall of the closest building. As she reached out to catch herself, the rotund woman stepped into view and planted one of her puffy fists right into Emriana's stomach.
All of the girl's breath left her in an audible whoosh, and she sank back down to the ground, gasping. The spots in Emriana's vision only intensified as she struggled, coughing, to regain her breath, and she was unable to do anything but crumple where she had sagged, flopping into the filth.
She felt hands grab her roughly and yank her to her feet again. Something hard cuffed her hard upside the head, snapping it to one side and making her cry out in pain. The blood was roaring in her ears as she was dragged, stumbling farther down the alley. A small part of her mind screamed at Emriana to stand up, to fight back, to stop her assailants from towing her along, but she was too dazed to react. She pulled feebly once or twice against the hands that gripped her by each arm, but it was a futile gesture and did nothing to deter her attackers.
Suddenly, Emriana was thrown forward, and she stumbled to her hands and knees upon something softer than stone and dirt. She rested there for a moment, panting to get her wind back, but before she could figure out what she was resting on, a hard boot planted itself in her backside and sent her sprawling the rest of the way down. Without warning, two or three hard blows struck Emriana in the ribs, and she vainly tried to bring her arms down to protect herself.
That, apparently, was what her attackers had been waiting for, for in the next instant, Emriana felt herself enveloped by the soft material upon which she lay. She realized it was a carpet, and it was wet and sour-smelling. She understood that her three assailants were wrapping her up in the rug, and she began to thrash about again, trying to prevent her entombment, but she was too dazed and her foes too fast. All too quickly, she was engulfed in fetid darkness, her arms pinned to her sides as she was rolled over and over several times. She could feel the thick material tightening around her, cutting off her movement and her air.
"No!" She cried out, trying to jerk her arms back up over her head. "Stop! Please!" She was panicking, terrified of the sense of being buried alive, but her voice was muffled and ineffectual. She frantically kicked her feet, trying to keep from being completely trapped, but it was too late. She could already feel coils of rope being wrapped around her torso and knees, effectively binding her helplessly inside the wrapped carpet.
She wound up on her back, and though she continued to kick and fight, Emriana realized that the trio of attackers was no longer working to contain her in the rolled-up carpet. She felt herself being lifted from the ground, and a rhythmic swaying motion set in, evidence that they were carrying her. The thought that she was being hauled off, farther away from The Silver Fish, from any point of reference she knew, frightened the girl even more, if that was possible. She continued to cry out, hoping perhaps someone somewhere near her would hear and investigate. Praying.
At one point, something slammed into the middle of the carpet roll, walloping Emriana right in her gut, knocking the wind from her once more. She gasped and coughed again, trying to take in enough air to regain her breathing. Tears welled up in her eyes, tears of pain and fear. The stench of the wet, molding rug was almost unbearable, and she thought she would pass out from the suffocating atmosphere. She stopped kicking and screaming after that, fearing that she would be struck again if she continued. She began to sob, shuddering, shaking sobs, knowing she would never see any of her family again.
Images of her mother and grandmother, of Vambran, of Xaphira, even of Marga and the twins flashed through her mind. She could see them all grieving for her, perhaps wondering what had become of her, why she had disappeared. The frightening notion made her chest ache.
No! She insisted, trying to clear her head. You're not dead, yet! Figure something out! Steeling herself against the panic, Emriana grew still and began instead to listen, trying to gain some sense of her surroundings. She could hear nothing, but she at least could begin to think clearly.
After a while, she felt herself lowered onto a flat surface, and she could hear muffled voices, though she could not make out what was being said. She realized that her own efforts at making noise had most likely been similarly muted, and the likelihood of someone actually hearing her in the alleys of Arrabar was slim. She would have to save herself.
As she assessed her situation, Emriana remembered that she had a second dagger hidden on her person, tucked into the waist of her pants at the small of her back. She tried to reach it, but her arms were pressed too tightly to her sides, and she was finding it difficult to flex her elbow enough to shift her hand back there. It was maddening. She stopped trying to grab it and considered other methods.
Shrink, she told herself. Get smaller.
Shifting as much as she could to one side, Emriana exhaled and held very still, feeling the blanket sag around her the slightest bit. Then she shifted her shoulder up as high as she could and rolled her arm around toward the blade. She could barely brush the tip of one finger against it. She sucked in air a couple of times, trapping her arm, then exhaled again and tried once more. On that attempt, she managed to touch it with the tips of three fingers, but before she could make more progress, the wagon or whatever she was riding on bounced roughly over something, jostling her. She lost her position and was deposited onto her back again, pinning her arm beneath her.
Before she could try again, Emriana felt the vehicle come to a halt. She strained to listen and thought she could hear the faint lapping of water. Voices began again nearby, still too muffled for her to make any sense of them. The girl felt hands working on the outer bindings of the carpet, and for a moment she believed they were going to release her. She prepared to yank the dagger free the moment she got the chance, but it soon became apparent that her kidnappers were up to something else. She could feel tugging and pulling and grunts of effort.
She was hoisted into the air, and the ropes that had been wrapped around her torso and knees tightened considerably, cutting into her. The shift caused the middle of her body to sag down, tightening the bindings against her arm, still trapped behind her. The roll of carpet swayed back and forth as she was carried a short distance. Then the movement stopped.
"Sweet dreams, little monkey," a voice near her head said, faint and muffled through the wrappings. "Enjoy your swim."
The carpet began to sway back and forth, putting more strain on her. Emriana realized with a flash of panic exactly what had happened. The men had tied heavy weights to her bindings!
The girl began to struggle again, trying desperately to reach the dagger pinned against the small of her back. But the weight of her own body, coupled with the way she was bent almost double, made it impossible. After the third such rocking motion, Emriana felt herself floating free, had the dreaded sense of falling.
She screamed and felt the sudden splash as she hit water. The weights tied to her ropes remained taut, pulling her down. The carpet began to soak through with water, cold and dark saltwater. They had thrown her into the bay.
Emriana squirmed and thrashed, almost insane with terror. She did not want to drown. She did not want to die. She wanted to breathe, to live, to see the light of day again.