Tangled

Chapter 243

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Unshift 243

243 Lisa: Strange Introductions

LISA

Wherever I am, it's huge.

We've taken at least three or four turns, and I've already forgotten how to get back. Was it left

it?

first, or right? The last turn was to our right. Wait... Wten how to get back. Was it left

Shit.

Every time I lag behind, trying to map this place in my head-which is little better than at toddler's scribbling at this point, with my confusion over lefts and rights-the tiny woman turns and scolds me, telling me to pick up my

feet.

Before, I would have given her some sort of smartass comment and maybe even slowed down.

But now, my body feels cold sweat at the idea of making her angry. Even if I'm a prisoner, at least I'm a clean and comfortable prisoner here. I don't want to go back to the previous standard of kidnapping.

So I shut my mouth and hurry behind, wondering how she can be so freaking fast with such tiny legs. She's probably the size of a kindergartener, but faster than a full-grown adult.

What bizarre witchcraft is that?

I force myself to focus on the path ahead, ignoring the endless parade of closed doors lining these stark corridors. No pictures, no decorations, not even a potted plant breaks up the monotony. Just door after identical door, their handles gleaming dully in the harsh overhead lighting.

The silence is oppressive. Our footsteps echo off the bare walls, amplifying the sound until it feels like we're being followed by an army. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. "Keep up, my tiny guide snaps for what feels like the hundredth time.

I lengthen my stride, closing the gap between us. Seriously though, how can someone so small move so fast?

We round another corner, and I blink in surprise, Windows. Actual windows line this hallway, letting in natural light.

Wow.

The sun.

seen it in

a good look outside, my guide veers sharply to the right.

like a wall. I stumble, momentarily disoriented by the sudden

Lush greenery

243

Lisa: Strango Introductions

of planters. The air is thick with the scent of

flowers.

immediately form on my skin. My simple cotton

by the giant blanket of warmth pressing down on us. I trail after her, trying not to trip over the uneven

a thought strikes me with the force of a

and bolt. My guide

But then what?

how to get out of this place. Those endless, identical corridors would become a maze. I'd be caught

punishment would await me for trying

freedom and

greenhouse, where an equally diminutive old man sits at a table. His beard cascades to his feet, and he peers through spectacles at a newspaper covered in unfamiliar script.

for

some kind of booster that gets him to the level he needs to reach the

I'm too

I stumble, barely catching myself as I fall

acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on my body. I shift in my seat, wishing it was easier to breathe in this weather. Actually, I'm just wishing to be anywhere else

maybe not anywhere. Would rather

think that, there's something about this old man that puts me at ease. A sense of warmth, of friendliness, radiates from him. It's as if I've known him for years, though I'm

we've never met.

be on high alert. Instead, I find myself relaxing in his presence, my guard lowering despite my best efforts to

this sense of safety-it has to be some kind of trick. Maybe they've drugged me.

security.

into the arms of the chair as I force myself to stay alert. I won't fall for

his Ble. 1

oblivious to my internal study him, searching for any hint of malice or deception. His wrinkled

unhurried as he reads.

movements

I'm about to break the silence myself, he folds the newspaper and sets it aside. His gaze meets mine, and I'm struck by the intensity in his eyes. They're old eyes, yes, but sharp and clear, almost terrifying

strong and deep for such a

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