by Ally Shields
“We can’t let him go,” Brunic said. “Not now that he knows about Elvenrude. He can never go home.”
“That seems drastic,” Seth said. “He doesn’t know where it is or how he got here, but for now let’s let him sit. Maybe he’ll remember where the portal is if he sits long enough in a cold cell.” He looked at Brunic. “Can your guards make sure he doesn’t get a lot of sleep?”
Brunic gave a tired smile. “I think we can manage that.”
The three men walked down the hallway. Seth stopped and went back. He opened the cell door and gave Andolf a hard look. “You’re lying, hiding something. Consider carefully what you’re going to tell me when I return. And keep in mind—the woman you took is mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.”
CHAPTER NINE
Kam kept track of time in the cell by the guard changes. At first she’d counted the minutes off in her head, but that grew boring and tedious. The light outside her window never changed, so she couldn’t estimate when it was day or night. The only time markers were the changing of the guards in the hallway and the meals that came twice a day. Her trips outside the cell were restricted to occasional stops at a lavatory a dozen feet down the hall.
She studied the routine. The guards changed every four hours, and meals came every twelve. By those calculations she’d been in Cyrilia roughly fifty hours. The last thirty-six she’d sat in her cell without a single visitor except the guards.
The dungeon was cold, the floor hard and grimy. She often sat for an hour or two without hearing anything except a guard shifting his arms or feet. There was little to do except think—and dream when she dozed off. Mostly she dreamed of Elvenrude, but all of her waking thoughts were of Seth…and the way they’d parted. Now that she might not see him again, her mind was clear…clear enough to see the truth. She’d been so absorbed, maybe obsessed, with being her own person that she’d driven a wedge between them.
Kam sat near the door, her arms hugging her knees. In her quest for independence, she’d taken him for granted. His strength, his confidence, and those laughing green eyes. He’d loved her. And he’d never asked her to be the typical elven maiden. How had she lost her way so badly?
What was he thinking now? That she’d taken off for good? That she hadn’t loved him enough to stay? Kam swallowed hard on that thought.
She stood and paced the ten by ten space for perhaps the hundredth time. She’d give anything if she could stretch her legs in a run for just a few minutes. She heard voices and stopped to look up at the window slit. Two distinct women’s voices spoke in subdued tones, and surely that was a child. This was the first sign Trystan, the three men who’d captured her, and the guards weren’t the only inhabitants of this dreary place. Why hadn’t she heard voices before now? There were laughing families and squealing children all over Elvenrude.
Maybe the people here were dying, just as their world seemed to be.
She slowly shook her head. Cyrilia was a puzzle. Why had this decay happened? Why didn’t they use their magic to fix it?
Kam swung around at the sound of a key in the lock. It was too early for a meal or a guard change. The door swung open, and Breen appeared.
“The prince wishes to see you.”
Finally. Anything was better than stagnating.
Kam hurried toward the door and followed him into the hall. Another guard came up on her far side and fell into step. Breen kept up a brisk pace until they reached a set of large, oaken doors. He pushed them open and stepped inside. “My lord.”
“Bring her in.” It was Trystan’s voice.
The Cyrilian prince held court from an ornate gold chair at the front of a large, ivory room graced by twelve marble pillars. Tad was on Trystan’s left. Two larger chairs stood vacant. Before them, approximately a hundred pale-haired men sat on rows of marble benches and stared at Kam with those mesmerizing eyes.
“This is Kameo Ryndel.” Trystan rose and walked toward her. “An obvious offspring of the darkkin, but she claims to be a member of the aristocracy in her elven society.”
“I only speak the truth,” Kam said. “I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but your pale-haired descendants are our working class.”
Someone gasped. “I don’t believe it. Our people are slaves?”
“She lies,” called another.
“Not slaves, workers. They earn their homes and livelihood.” She drew herself up, and her eyes flashed. “A Ryndel does not lie. Nor do members of the King’s Guard. I am both.”
“I hardly think we can accept her word on anything,” Tad said, eying her with scorn. “Her people are not known for truth-telling.”
“Not—”
Trystan cut her off. “Perhaps you’re right, Tad, but how do you explain the fact she was using this?” Trystan held up the invisibility amulet then set it down on a nearby stand. He took her arm and held it up. “And she is wearing a magic bracelet we were unable to remove. The darkkin have changed. They’ve developed their magic beyond our ability to control. They would be little use to us in rebuilding our world.”
The crowd stirred and talked among themselves. One old man’s voice rose over the others. “Then we are lost indeed.”
“Not necessarily. There are other ways if you’ll listen to me.” A brawny man in his thirties rose from the middle of the room. He gave Trystan a contemptuous look, before turning to face the room. “The earth is our ancestral home. Ours. Man stole it from us. Surely it’s time we reclaimed our birthright.”
“That’s madness, Dreysel. We’re in no shape to fight a war.”
Dreysel quieted the rumblings in the assembly by raising his hands. “It is true the humans are many. I’m not proposing to wage open warfare against them, but I’ve studied their society. Their paper money will buy anything we want. It’s just another form of magic.”
“We have no money,” someone shouted.
“And no way of obtaining it,” a man near the front said. “We already tried to trade our ancient gold and gems for their currency, and you know how that ended. We were nearly exposed because our metals are different.”
“Then we take it.” Dreysel’s bold response brought a moment of silence.
A man seated directly in front of Dreysel spoke up. “We’ve listened to your arguments before, and this assembly rejected them. We are not common thieves. Even if we stooped so low, buying goods from the humans doesn’t solve our long-term problem. We must find a way to make Cyrilia productive or abandon it.”
“I can do that too…” Dreysel’s words were drowned by the shouts admonishing him to sit down. A thunderous look darkened his face. When the shouting continued, he whipped around and strode from the room. A dozen men rose to follow, and the massive doors closed behind them with a loud clunk.
The old man who’d spoken earlier rose, drawing attention from the departures. “What about these descendants of ours who’ve become common workers? Perhaps we could bring them—”
“You would enslave our own people?” someone interrupted.
“I say we capture the dark ones and retrain them,” another voice shouted.
“Stop,” Trystan thundered, heading back to the front of the room. “We shall not have this discussion now. It is better held in private. I merely wanted you to see this woman for yourselves. To understand there is not a simple solution.”
“That, Trystan, is painfully clear.” The white-haired man grumbled, but he sat down.
Trystan stared at the crowd as if daring someone to argue with him, then nodded at Breen. “Take her back. We have no further need of her. Follow your instructions.”
No further need? What instructions? Did that mean what she thought it did? Kam took a step back and gauged the distance to the open door. Without taking time to consider the consequences, she snatched the invisibility amulet from the stand, folded her fingers around it to invoke the magic, and raced for the door. She dodged around Breen and the other guards standing in her way, but it was obvious they could
n’t see her. She had no idea whether Trystan or any others could locate her in this magical state, but she kept running, quickly leaving the startled shouts behind her.
She cut down a marble corridor that seemed familiar—but they all looked so much alike. She was searching for the garden. If she could get outside, maybe she could find her way back to the portal. It couldn’t be more than a few miles away.
Spotting the bright colors of flowers, she made a sharp right into the garden and leaped over the stone wall. She landed in an open area and looked around to get her bearings. The same bleak landscape met her eye in every direction. Which way? She had no idea.
Kam circled the palace, hugging close to the walls. When she reached what looked like a front entrance, she studied the surrounding countryside again. It was primarily stunted forest. There were three main pathways leading away from the palace. It would be nice to pick the correct one the first time.
The widest and most densely packed trail led to the left. She saw the top of at least one spire in that direction. Probably a town or village. The path straight ahead was less traveled and merged into a forest of dying trees, and the one to the left appeared more open but also sparsely used.
She heard shouts and glanced over her shoulder. The guards were searching the palace grounds. She made a quick decision and sprinted down the path straight ahead. She kept up the swift pace until she reached the trees on the far side of a small hill. When the palace was out of sight, she slowed to a jog. Ten minutes later she dropped into a walk at another branch in the road and took the narrower path, following a dry creek bed. She skirted an area of thick but dry brush and stopped when she heard a woman’s voice quietly singing.
Leaving the path, Kam crept through the bushes until she spotted the singer, a Cyrilian woman close to or younger than her own age. The singer wore a long, white-linen tunic, loosely tied with a rope-style belt at the waist. Her pale hair hung well below her shoulders and covered her features as she leaned forward to pour water from a pitcher over a tiny green plant.
Kam moved closer, a dry twig snapped, and she froze.
The young woman whirled, clearly startled by the sound, but her face didn’t display even a hint of fear, only curiosity.
“Who’s there?” the woman asked. Like everyone else in Cyrilia, she spoke Elfish. “I know someone is watching. I can feel it. Please show yourself.”
Since the odds were good—one on one—if something went wrong, Kam surprised herself and followed her instincts. She looped the amulet over her head and released her hold on it, revealing herself.
The Cyrilian woman smiled, looking her up and down. “I wondered if it was you. Pardon me for staring, but I’ve never seen a darkkin before. Your hair is very pretty. I was happy to hear you’d escaped. No one should be held against their will. I’m Brianya, but I like to be called Bria.”
“How did you hear so quickly?”
“Oh, there’s shortcut to the palace.” She pointed over her shoulder. “A guard was just through here looking for you. Don’t worry, he’s gone. He went to the village.”
“Will he come back this way?”
“I don’t think so. The path loops around the other side of the village and returns to the palace.”
Kam studied her. Why was this woman so friendly? No one else had been. “My name is Kameo. I’m looking for the portal to go home.”
“You’ve come the wrong direction,” Bria said. “It won’t be open anyway. There are restricted hours, unless you know the keycode. I’m sorry I don’t know the magic words. I’ve never been out of Cyrilia.”
A code. Kam’s shoulders sagged. Great. Now what? She’d kept hoping by some miracle her cross key tattoo would trigger the portal.
Bria returned to tending the wilted seedling.
“What are you doing?” Kam asked venturing closer. “As far as I see nothing much grows around here.”
“It used to.” Bria sighed. “We had beautiful trees and flowers everywhere. They were tended by the magic. Now that’s no longer possible, so I’m trying to learn the old ways. Do you know something of plants?”
“A little. My mother grows herbs for her cooking. And we have a few flower beds.”
“Can you show me?”
Kam crouched and peered at the plant. “You have to loosen the ground around it so its roots can grow.” She took a stick and dug in the parched earth, breaking off large chunks then crumbling them in her hands. After a while, she stood and waved a hand at Bria. “Now water all the ground I’ve prepared. You’ll have to do this every day it doesn’t rain.”
“It never rains.”
“Never?”
“I haven’t actually seen rain, but I’ve heard about it in the old legends.”
“Never?” Kam repeated. How could everything be so wrong in this world? “Where do you get your water?”
“From the garden fountain.”
“But where does it…?” Kam stopped, bewildered.
Bria’s voice tinkled with laughter. “I see you have much to learn about us, and I have a million questions about you and what’s on the other side of the portal. Will you join me at my home for tea? There’s only my cousin, and she won’t tell anyone.”
Kam cocked her head, suddenly wary. “Why? Everyone else has treated me as if I were beneath them. Why would you offer friendship?”
“Not all Cyrilians are alike.” Bria frowned, her voice sharper. “Is that not the case in your world?”
“Of course. I’m sorry if I offended you. But you’re the first Cyrilian I’ve met who didn’t want to throw me in a dungeon.”
“My home doesn’t even have a dungeon. I’m truthfully not going to tell anyone you’re here,” Bria coaxed.
Despite vague misgivings, Kam finally agreed. If Bria was correct about the portal hours, it was currently closed. She had to do something with her time, and there was a lot more Bria could tell her, including the portal’s location…if she would.
Bria’s home was a smaller version of Trystan’s grand palace, a simple castle, built of stone and marble. Every surface Kam touched vibrated with magic. Was nothing in this world real? Had it all been magically created and sustained? No natural minerals, no natural food supplies.
As they entered the castle grounds, Bria explained why she lived alone except for an older, maiden cousin. “When my parents died three years ago, I couldn’t stay by myself and I certainly wasn’t ready to get married, so I invited Cousin Ju to live here. She’d already lost her family. The rapid decline of our magic over the last twenty years has affected our elders the most. Many have grown frail and died. My cousin and I run the castle by ourselves.”
Within a few minutes, they sat in the kitchen area of the home. An older, heavyset version of Bria served them tea and crunchy wafers and busied herself at the counters while listening to their conversation. Kam took a sip of her drink and suppressed an urge to wrinkle her nose at the bitter taste. “What flavor is this?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What do you use to make the tea?”
“Oak bark. Do you have other kinds of tea in your world?”
“Many. Um, but it’s very refreshing. Thank you.”
Bria’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t think you mean that. Tell me what you’d drink at home.” She set her cup down and waited expectantly.
“Honey tea or coffee. Maybe wine. Actually, there are dozens of different teas and many other things we drink.”
“We used to have wine. And sometimes Trystan brings me a bottle from beyond the portal. He goes to the Otherside quite often now, but he won’t tell me about it.” Bria’s voice was wistful, and she leaned forward. “Will you describe what’s over there?”
“Sure. The portal opens into a wild, watery place called a swamp. It’s filled with green grasses and growing trees hung with moss. And some really interesting wild animals. Beyond that is the human city of New Orleans with thousands of small houses—small by your standards anyway—and brick and
glass buildings, some of them much taller than trees. And the trees are huge and beautiful. You wouldn’t believe the numbers of people. They drive cars, um, sort of like boxes with wheels. They have special buildings where strangers bring drinks and the most enticing food right to your table.”
“Oh, I wish I could see it. It sounds exciting.”
Kam was silent for a moment. “It is. And I very much want to return. Can you show me where the portal is?”
Cousin Ju interrupted. “Brianya, you cannot. It is forbidden.”
The young woman turned her head. “Everyone knows where it is, Cousin Ju. Besides, Kameo doesn’t belong here. Trystan shouldn’t have brought her. You said so yourself.”
Cousin Ju wiped her hands on a towel and avoided looking at Kam. “Nevertheless, you shouldn’t involve yourself.”
“If not me, then who? You can’t imagine Trystan would punish me.”
“Of course not, but Dreysel is another matter.”
“Trystan is still the prince.”
“For now. I don’t want anything to happen to us, my dear.” Cousin Ju turned somber eyes on Kam. “You must not be found here.”
“Believe me, I don’t want to be found at all. I only want to go home.”
The older woman folded the towel, laid it on the counter, and threw a reproachful glance at Bria on her way out the door. “I’m going to check on the fountain. The water level didn’t seem as deep as yesterday. There’s food in the oven if you get hungry.”
“My cousin is so worried about everything…well, we all are, but she didn’t mean to be inhospitable.”
“What has happened to your world? It seems to be stagnating.”
“It’s dying.” Bria’s expression grew sad. “We’ve almost used up the magic. Unless we can find an alternate way to support ourselves and replenish the magic, within a hundred years or less there will be no Cyrilia.”
