by Katie Macey
"Blazes Aarin! And you thought I shouldn't come?" said Iilen, letting out a held breath, only half annoyed. Niamh felt wound tight, and she wondered how Iilen could be so casual about everything. Willing her body to relax, Niamh refocused. Just a few more seconds and she'd have the map free.
"Hey!"
Niamh looked up, shocked at Iilen's shout.
Thundering footsteps filled the library, from every direction.
Tall men, muscled and wearing robes similar to Lord Egleril's, filled the doorway, and the room shrank by the second underneath their unblinking glares.
"Don't move,” said one, gripping Iilen’s arm tight.
Niamh had so many questions, but nobody wanted to hear them. Before she knew it, she was roughly dragged away from the map and out into the street.
Niamh thought to warm Veayre. There was still time for her to get away. But as they tumbled onto the street, she saw her hope was misplaced. More men, matching those inside the library, stood before them. They already held Caeednce and Veayre. Caeednce still struggled, but Veayre stood still, face downcast.
"Lock them up,” came a shout from further up the road. Disgust raged through Niamh as she was made to walk past Lord Egleril. He clicked his tongue at them, chiding them like naughty children. Then damning himself even further in their eyes, the Lord waited until Aarin was passed by him, bound and heavily guarded to add,
"And you. What a disappointment."
Aarin tensed up and an angry cry began in his throat. A shove from another guard silenced him. Niamh was forced to turn away, so she didn't witness anything further, but she heard his stumble to the ground and could only imagine how the guard had knocked him down.
Stars watched silently overhead. Niamh’s shoulders ached. What had she done? Niamh, the good girl who never spoke back, had broken into a library?
Not only that – she’d gotten caught. Niamh hung her head. What would Aunty say if she knew?
They didn't have far to go apparently. Though Niamh hadn't found the location of the dungeons at all yet, she had assumed they would be somewhere at the bottom of the village. Weren't they usually in the lowest rooms of castles, palaces, and the like? But they were being pushed and dragged up a steep road. It got steeper and steeper until even the heavily-muscled guards were puffing and showing signs of being out of breath. Niamh deepened her breathing, trying to hide any discomfort she felt. Bound and captured, it was all she had.
At the top of the rise, a figure holding up the great key for them all to see, shook. Watching him try to hold his nerve was physically painful to Niamh. She had never seen someone so at war with themselves. It was Lord Egleril’s son, Jomen. A call from behind them, puffed and shaky, but with all the authority available in this place, Lord Egleril shouted, “Jomen!”
The moon shone behind him, a glint of light on the key. She got closer, and his face came into view. Jomen puzzled Niamh. She saw how he ignored a snort from Aarin and the insulting huffs of the others. But when he looked at Niamh, his resolve visibly weakened. He glanced back down the road, then steel-faced he handed the key to the guard who held Aarin.
"Take them away," said Jomen, his voice wobbling dangerously close to crying.
Niamh wondered if he would fall down. He looked like he might faint. But then as she was shoved past him, she caught his eye. Maybe there was more to him than just weakness and misery? But Niamh had no time. Thrust violently into a dark cell, she spun around hitting her forearms on the metal bars hard.
"Your fate will be decided tomorrow,” said Lord Egleril, finally reaching the top of the hill. “Or the next day. Heck, I don't know when. You're locked up anyway, what's the hurry?"
Niamh felt her face flushing red. She’d been trying to get to Oplijah fast, and her efforts had landed her here. And everyone who helped her was in trouble right along with her.
Niamh hit the bars again.
✽✽✽
"Sit down, Niamh,” said Caeednce, venturing timidly from her corner of the cell. Their cell was small, and one of eight. Heavy bars reached from the floor right up to the ceiling, as did the barred door. They faced another cell, and even from the front-most corner pressed against the bars, no one could see anything beyond the narrow alley's curve.
They had already disputed amongst them who was responsible for the failure of their plan. And they’d gotten nowhere with that.
“Try not to worry,” said Aarin, trying to comfort the others, while still visibly struggling with his own anger.
"Worried?” said Veayre, “Worried? I'm just trying to work out why this,” she pressed her finger into the centre of Aarin's chest, "street sweeper, thinks he knows more than me?"
She pronounced each word clearly and gave equal emphasis to every syllable. Niamh felt so shocked at Veayre’s outburst that she shivered. Iilen sprang up between them, darting glances between the two sets of burning eyes, and interjected, "Guys, just leave it."
He spoke softly but managed to outlast their glares. Turning away, Aarin leaned against the wall, and Veayre rested her arms on the bars, looking out to the alleyway. Niamh watched on, stunned.
"I don't know your story, Veayre. But maybe if you knew more of Aarin’s you wouldn’t talk like that,” said Iilen continuing his peacekeeping mission.
Veayre scoffed and sat unceremoniously. But she sighed and looked up before nodding for Iilen to continue. Iilen ignored Aarin’s deep sigh, and said,
"Aarin only returned to us after three years of intense training one month ago.” Iilen sat down beside Veayre before continuing, “He left us for the promise of a respected place protecting Muspary. While he was gone Lord Egleril took over...So, unlike before, Lord Egleril choose himself over the people at every opportunity. Aarin returned and his post had been disbanded. Every returned newly trained guard was assigned a road-"
"And a broom," said Aarin grimly.
Niamh frowned. This just didn’t match what she knew about her country. Gutheacia was at peace. Why all this talk of protecting?
"That’s a hard load to bear," said Niamh, turning toward Aarin as she spoke.
"But what of you?” said Aarin, his tone still frustrated. “Where does a girl of fifteen so desperate to take her sacred vows come from?” he fired back at her.
"I don't suggest that we argue over whose lot is the most difficult, especially not when we share a cell,” said Niamh, feeling a little too warm. “But hear mine, and then you can decide if I am too young to be this…desperate or not. We’re from the city, right by the Island Palace."
A hush fell over the cell.
"So far?" Caeednce whispered.
"I met Veayre on board. I was heading to Oplijah, to the stained glass temple. My vows will grant me a position," Niamh became aware of how similar her expectations were to Aarin's, so she added, "I assume they will be upheld on my return. My cause is all for my two little sisters. You heard me mention my bracelet. Well, it’s one of a matching set, of three identical in craft. I wear one, my sisters the other two. We wore them when we were found on my Aunty’s doorstep. But without my protection, they will be sent away. I have to return as a priestess, so I can claim them as my dependents. Then they will be safe."
"What rushes your journey so?" said Caeednce, pressing for more details.
"Reports have stopped coming from the Island Palace, and rumours of the High King’s ill health circulate the markets… I don't know how much time I have, but when the throne is empty, the laws can change quickly. I may not be able to protect them,” said Niamh, finishing sombrely.
"Is it possible the rumours aren’t true? Maybe you have time," said Caeednce.
"It's imperative we get to Oplijah as soon as possible," said Veayre, her words surprising everyone. She had been quiet for so long, they'd nearly forgotten she was locked in, just as they were.
"I fully support Niamh's mission, and my own, seeking to record and learn more about the various peoples of the entire Guthaecian Kingdom. We’ve come further than I plan
ned, but I must agree with her. We have to get out of here."
"There's nothing to be done, I'm afraid,” said Iilen.
Pointedly staring at the lock then back to her, he added, "We'd need a key. These walls are the thickest in Muspary. There's nobody here who can break down these walls or those bars. Even with Caeednce's knowledge, that lock is a special one. Egleril may be awful, but unfortunately he's not stupid."
There were a few nods and pressed lips in agreement, but Veayre went on with, "We'll come up with something. Let's think on it."
✽✽✽
Eyes fuzzy and on the edge of sleep, Niamh lifted her heavy head off her crossed arms. She knew she'd been close to dropping off to sleep and her neck and shoulders ached. Aarin didn't sleep at all. His gaze remained fixed on the locked cell door. Caeednce and Veayre leaned against one another. Veayre's cloak lay around them both. Caeednce hadn't been given time to grab her own when she'd been arrested in the shipyard.
Niamh stared at the ground right beside her. The wooden flooring was rubbed smooth, not by an expert tradesman, but as though giant stones had been dragged across it. She had grazed her fingertips across its smooth surface earlier and shivered.
The bars that held them captive were thick and sturdy. They were narrowly spaced so none could squeeze between, and with squared corners. They were expertly made, and Niamh assumed, commissioned by an earlier ruler. Pink waves of hair slipped across her face as she turned her head, to rest on her arms again. Leaning the small of her back against the wall behind her, knees hugged to her chest, she let her hair stay. Quiet hung over them like cobwebs.
Between strands of hair, Niamh caught a movement close to the edge of the ceiling. Right at the top of one of the bars, she noticed a tiny bead of water. It clung to the side of the bar, but drawn by gravity it wobbled and quivered, reluctant to begin its descent.
Iilen sniffed.
Niamh didn't move but continued to watch the droplet. It hung on, then ever so slightly dribbled a little lower. Niamh let her thoughts fade away until all that existed was the water droplet.
She heard the odd movement from her fellow cellmates but from the top of the bar, all the way down, the tiny droplet gradually slipped to the floor. Seeping into a raised bubble on the smooth floor, Niamh saw a flicker of light reflect in its curved surface. Watching the tiny flicker of light dance in the water, like a tiny crystal's rainbow light, Niamh almost smiled.
In her peripheral vision, Niamh noticed Aarin stand and move closer to the bars. She ignored him, even shutting her eyes. Niamh knew she hadn’t thought of a solution yet. The bars were unbendable and locked. The walls were impenetrable. The ceiling reached higher than any of them could reach, even on each other's shoulders. There was nothing for it but to wait for whatever the morning brought. Lord Egleril would have to decide what to do with them eventually. Niamh opened her eyes again looking for the water-droplet, but it had split into a flat circle on the floor. The bubble of sparkling light was gone. Flicking her hair out of the way, she resigned herself to sitting with her head up again. How long had it been since she'd slept? Her aching neck told her it had been too long regardless of the hour.
Iilen stood and leaned against the bars. He and Aarin shuffled together, and Niamh realised an in-depth silent-exchange was taking place. Both were using their hands and facial expressions in a chaotic exchange of communication. Watching for a few seconds, she couldn't follow a word. Nor did she have a guess at what they were so emphatically discussing. Niamh stood and nudged her shoulder into Iilen's own. He immediately turned. Moving back so she could see Aarin's face as well, he whispered,
"It is too early for dawn."
He jerked his head towards the guard’s seat. Pressing her face to the bars, she could see his outstretched feet poking across the pathway. Why all this talk about dawn? The guard slept, as he should. Niamh's nose tickled, and she lifted a hand to her face. Unsure of why she felt such motivation to stifle a sneeze, she still did her best, deeming the heavy silence best left undisturbed.
"That light,” said Iilen, pointing past the guard. There was something about the way he said it that made Niamh want to retreat back to her doze with the water-droplet.
Aarin reached around his friend and tapped her, then pointed the same direction Iilen just had. What was she missing? Pressing her face even harder to the bars, she looked again. Then she saw it. A golden glow wavered just beyond the guard’s feet.
"The morning sun..." said Niamh, whispering to herself, with her head tilted.
"Is it morning?" said Veayre, addressing the three of them. Niamh turned to see Caeednce and Veayre sitting up, wide awake.
"That must be what it is,” said Niamh.
"It can’t be,” said Aarin. “I haven’t shut my eyes - not for one moment."
A bubble of fear settled in Niamh’s stomach. They were trapped here. So whatever he thought this was, there was nothing they could do about it.
Veayre sneezed. Caeednce rubbed her arm then stood, before commenting,
"The air,” said Caeednce. “It feels different in my chest." She bent over, coughing. That bubble inside of Niamh grew until it pressed on her throat.
"But if it is not the coming dawn…” said Niamh, before she started to cough.
Nobody dared ask the question. Aarin's stony face and his strong squeeze of Iilen's shoulder held them in a collective, suspended moment.
A great tolling resounded, loud and echoing across the entire village of Muspary. The swinging vibration of the warning bell sounded through their cell and down the mountainside. They waited for it to finish, with their hands pressed to their ears. Caeednce pointed towards the same spot they'd been watching.
"It's-"
But another voice, deep, and loud called out over the rooftops to the sleeping people.
"Fire! Fire! Make for safety!"
Niamh ignored Aarin's serious gaze and wrenched her eyes shut. The light they saw glowing at the end of the alley, wasn’t the rising sun. Flames reached high enough into the sky to shine all the way into their cell. This was no small fire, to be easily stomped out or smothered. Niamh coughed. The wooden town was burning. All of it. She willed her lungs to be content with shallower inhales. The less smoke she inhaled, the better. Unwilling to give up, she tried to force her mind not to wander, but it was impossible. Niamh could picture it, all that dry timber. It would have caught alight quickly, leaving no option but to flee. Smoke curled in wandering tendrils between the bars. Niamh let the cloak's hood fall back. How long did they have?
"Hey!" Niamh called, willing her voice to sound braver than she felt. Thankfully, the shaking she felt didn't reverberate through her voice.
"Hey! What's going on out there?" she yelled at the guard again. The night erupted in a cacophony of shouts and crashing sounds.
"My duty is clear-" said the guard. But Aarin smacked the bars with his open hands and yelled,
"No! You worked with my father, how could you..."
Facing them, but not even taking one step closer, the guard finished his statement saying, "Your fate is out of my hands."
Aarin stood frozen, his jaw hanging as he watched powerless to act.
“No!”
The guard tipped his hand, letting the keys fall to the ground. There was no way any of them could reach them, and he knew it.
Aarin, Niamh, Veayre, Caeednce, and Iilen gripped the bars. All of them watched the guard turn and run away, taking only himself to safety.
"No!" said Niamh, banging the bars. Aarin spun around and threw his fist into the hard wooden wall. Iilen tried to stop them both, but it was no use. Smoke billowed into their cell, and pressing cloaks and sleeves over their faces did little to ease the strain of it. There was no way out. All of them spluttered at the smoke they inhaled.
Iilen began to cry.
Veayre attempted to pray.
Niamh felt paralysed. She was stunned. Angry. Maybe Veayre's prayers would prevent the fire from reaching them.
One glowing ember floated by their cell, like a wafting dandelion. In horror, they watched as the flimsy roof, high though it was, caught alight. Niamh thought of her home and her sisters and tried to pray as Veayre did.
✽✽✽
They huddled together, in the furthest corner of their cell from the fire. Nobody spoke. Smoke hung so heavy it veiled even the bars. To Niamh’s dismay, the fire tore through the high ceiling more rapidly than she'd expected. The flames licked the whole way across, and they began to reach even lower.
"We should move," said Niamh. But no-one heard her over the crackling flames, the crashing buildings, and other shouts from outside. The flames dripped lower and lower, creeping down the stretch of the tall walls until a burned gap opened in the roof. Black smoke funnelled out to the open sky, and quickly became a vortex, with the smoke finding an exit from the dead-end of the dungeons.
Aarin met her gaze with an equally serious expression. She wanted to hope that the fire could create an escape exit for them, but she knew they'd be burned long before that was possible.
Iilen's head flicked up suddenly. Then comprehending the state of the building they were trapped in, his eyes widened, and he rubbed at the tracks his tears had left on his face. Niamh raised her hand thinking to touch his shoulder, in comfort. But the air was hot. Her hand prickled with the heat, and she wished she could drop her heavy cloak. Veayre's top lip beaded with sweat, and Caeednce's hairline clung to her skin. Veayre glanced out of their cell suddenly, just as Iilen had done a moment earlier. Niamh tried to look out, but only the foggy smoke could be seen. Her eyes stung with the effort.
Crash!
A beam in the ceiling swung loose. Blanketed in flames, it crashed against the bars sending a spray of raining sparks over them. Niamh and the others threw themselves further back until they pressed up hard against the wall. Anything to get further away from the heat.
