CHAPTER 12 – THE DESPERATION

"Calm down, Dexter," Eldritch sniffled. When Dexter opened his eyes again, he saw that she had wiped away her tears and was back to her usual self. "You were just dreaming. It was all just a fever dream. Don't worry. Tabitha is probably fine."

"She's dead!" Dexter exclaimed, louder than he intended. Ignoring the pain, he sat up in bed, despairingly glaring at Doctor Eldritch. "Dead! Do you understand? Dead! He abducted her and killed her, slit her throat! Did you not see all the blood? I followed the trail of blood to the cliff, up to the cave. He even had candles in there!"

Eldritch furrowed her brows and firmly pushed him back onto the pillow. "You stay put! You're still out of your mind. I'd better give you another dose of pain relief and check if Tabitha has returned home. When I stopped by your place earlier, there was no one there. She must have returned by now and will be worrying about you." The healer bit her lip. "Damn it, she'll hate me. I won't make this mistake again; I swear it. If necessary, I'll go back through the storm with my patient next time."

Dexter closed his eyes. Why wouldn't she understand? "You must have seen the blood," he interjected weakly. "All that blood on the way to the cliff..."

"There was nothing there, Dexter," he heard her sympathetic voice. "It was just a dream. Be glad it's so."

He shook his head silently. Right now, he was too weak to continue arguing with Eldritch, but she would find out the truth soon enough. Probably, the rain had washed away the blood, but there should still be plenty of it in their house.

Tabitha's blood... Silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He knew it couldn't have been a fever dream. The blood-red eyes of her murderer had burned too deeply into his consciousness.

Dexter tilted his head back and looked up at the steep rock face. Desperation enveloped his body like an icy grip, squeezing the air from his lungs. All his thoughts revolved around a handful of questions. How could this be? Had he gone completely mad? And the most important one: Where was Tabitha?

He had seen her die. When the memories flooded back, Dexter closed his eyes. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks. He had seen that bastard murder her. But when a couple of Klennar men had gone to the rock ledge, they had found nothing but an empty cave in the stone. No sign of candleholders, not even holes in the wall. They couldn't find any blood either. Dexter would have liked to climb up himself to check. He cursed his injured leg for not allowing him to get halfway before he had to give up in exhaustion.

The fact was, Tabitha didn't return. The villagers believed that Tabitha had been abducted and was most likely murdered, while Dexter had thrown himself off the cliff's steps in his semi-stupor. According to their account, he had his dreams to thank for the gash on his head. "You look like someone who needs help," a voice sounded by his side. Dexter opened his eyes. A stranger leaned casually against the rock wall. His long hair was entirely gray, yet his face appeared like that of a man in his thirties. He was dressed in fine, albeit old-fashioned attire, much like the aristocracy, reminding Dexter all too well of Tabitha's murderer. He stared at him in shock. The second stranger within a few days. Both of them were apparently well-dressed, but in a way that made them look like they had stepped out of a history book.

Even the smile on the stranger's lips did not bode well with Dexter. It had something predatory about it. "Who are you?" he asked brusquely. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. Did this man know something about Tabitha's whereabouts? Was he involved with the bastard who had abducted her? Their similar clothing and the closeness in their appearances spoke volumes. The scenarios in Dexter's mind raced.

"I heard about what happened to you and have information that might interest you." The man pushed himself away from the rock and stood before Dexter.

So, it was true. Dexter stared at the stranger. He had heard. How could he have known about Tabitha's fate? "And what would that be?" he asked with a dry throat. He swallowed and resisted the urge to shake the information out of the man. The stranger raised an eyebrow. "Tabitha?" He cursed his lips for almost revealing what had happened to her. His voice trembled, and he held back, fighting the urge to get the words from the man.

The stranger looked at him with disdain. "Call her what you like. I do indeed know where she is, and I will take you to her."

Dexter stared at him in bewilderment. He hadn't expected so little resistance. Relief threatened to flood over him when he realized the meaning behind the man's words. She was still alive! And the stranger would take him to her! Dexter suppressed the elation to make room for suspicion.

"Just like that? You don't want anything in return? And you'll let us go once you've led me to her?" Why would his accomplice have abducted her if the second stranger wanted to release her without ransom, without any other demands? There had to be something fishy about the offer.