by Tamie Dearen
“Put those things back the way you found them, Arista. We may need to hide in the caverns. We don’t want him to know we were here.” Alora tugged at her arm, but Arista jerked it away.
“Won’t he be suspicious at the puddles of water we’re leaving behind?”
Alora cringed at the truth of her words. The puddles were like a homing beacon. Vindrake could easily follow their trail. She pulled off her coat and fell to the floor, in a mad attempt to sop up the watery tracks.
With stubborn persistence, Arista inspected the chest’s contents. “I’m almost done. I only want to take one thing. He’ll never miss it.”
Alora cried out as a wave of nausea struck, bringing bile to her throat. “Kaevin, it’s Vindrake! I think he’s coming!”
Kaevin drew his short sword, jumping back from the door as it swung open. The face that appeared wasn’t Vindrake’s, but instead that of a gigantic hulking warrior, fully seven feet tall. With a single stride he crossed to Kaevin, who backed away, the reach of his blade no match for the huge spiked club in the giant’s hand.
The hulk hefted his club overhead, bringing it down in a deadly arc aimed at Kaevin’s head. But as the club descended, Alora transported Kaevin to her side, and the club continued its path to crack against the stone floor. Lifting the massive club to attack again, the giant trained his eyes on Alora. Kaevin moved toward him, crying out to draw his attention.
I hope he’s not wearing an iron belt… Alora attempted to transport the warrior to the ceiling above the table. At his scream of terror, she knew she’d been successful. She watched him fall, a surreal flailing image that reminded her of a low-budget movie, but she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away before he thudded against the stone table, silencing the shriek.
“Alora! Look out!”
A steely grip closed on her wrist. Cold blue eyes. Sleek black hair. The reek of evil. Vindrake.
“Alora, how nice of you to come. Thank you for killing Barggae. I would’ve done so myself, as a punishment for attempting to kill Kaevin when I’d specified I wanted both of you alive, but now you’ve saved me the trouble.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Or perhaps you’ve robbed me of the pleasure.”
Her gaze darted to Kaevin, whose eyes mirrored her own horror, as three warriors bound his hands behind him. And Arista? She must still be crouching behind the bed. Ignoring her father’s droning voice, Alora concentrated on Arista, transporting her to the middle of the bathing pool. At least it was a soft landing if it worked. The portal is sealed, but she might have a chance of escaping if they don’t know she’s here.
Vindrake’s voice was louder, emphasizing his words with a jerk to her wrist.
“Do not disregard me! I asked you a question!”
Alora was surprised as a deep calm settled over her, slowing her racing heart. Yes, Uncle Charles, I’m going to fight. She locked eyes with the man who was her genetic father, lifting her chin, but she found no kinship in his icy gaze. “I’m sorry, I must have been daydreaming. Could you repeat the question?”
His eyes narrowed, and he spoke through tight lips. “I know you came through the portal. I want to know how you found it. Is gresses your minor gift?”
Alora shrugged, buying time as she worked out a way to speak around the truth. “You shouldn’t be so surprised. It was my mother’s minor gift.”
“I’m not surprised… I’m delighted. Just another talent at my disposal.”
“My gifts will do you no good once I’m dead.”
“Oh, you will not die, my dear.” His lips pulled back in a sneer.
“I’ll never take your oath of fealty if that’s what you think.”
“Oh, no. I’ve already learned from my past mistakes. The bloodbond destroys the bearer’s gift, rendering him or her powerless. Useless. You won’t take the bond…”
He leaned close to her ear, his putrid breath assaulting her nostrils, a stark contrast to the terrible beauty of his handsome face. “But rest assured, Kaevin will.”
*****
Arista almost drowned as her water-filled boots weighted her down. She fought to remove them and, pushing off from the bottom, she broke the surface, gasping for air. Struggling to swim with the thick oversized coat she’d borrowed from Alora hampering her movements, she paddled to the shadows in the back of the pool and grasped the edge, resting while she determined a plan.
She was fairly certain she hadn’t been spotted before Alora sent her to the pool. Of course Alora expected her to use the unexpected watery transport as an opportunity to escape, but she’d never leave them behind in Vindrake’s clutches, especially since she felt guilty.
Surely my delay to search the chest wasn’t the only reason we were caught. Vindrake must have been alerted somehow when we came through the portal. Or perhaps when we invaded his chamber. She sent up a silent prayer that Vindrake would once again attempt to convince Alora to use her gift for him rather than kill them outright. Anything to afford a bit more time.
She had to find a place to hide and attempt a rescue when no one was watching. And she needed something dry to wear. She pictured Daegreth’s map in her mind. Three doors exited from the bathing room: one to Vindrake’s chamber, one to smaller living quarters, and one to the main hallway, highly trafficked and heavily guarded. She might be able to hide in the doorways and sneak past the guards, but not with dripping clothes. Didn’t Daegreth say no one was currently living in the smaller chamber? Perhaps the last occupant had left clothing behind. Anything would do. But the small chamber had only one entrance, so she could easily be trapped inside.
Kicking herself out of the water, she flopped onto the back edge of the pool and stripped off the soggy coat. From the inside pockets she removed a number of blades along with a water-logged scroll, pilfered from Vindrake’s trunk. I hope my prize hasn’t cost Alora and Kaevin their lives. Tucking the coat between two boulders and, stashing the blades in her socks and the scroll in the waist of her pants, she made for the shallows with one eye on the door of Vindrake’s abode.
*****
Markaeus held his breath as the guard passed by, a hand-width from his hiding place under a bench in the alcove. Luckily, the night sentries were usually bored and sleepy, patrolling the corridors with no real expectation of encountering intruders.
Creeping with silent steps, he rounded the corner leading to the stairway where Vindrake had confronted him the previous night. This time, no one barred his way, so he continued up the stone steps, quickly at first, and then slowing as he moved beyond the reach of the lamplight from the hall below. He continued in the pitch black, groping his way along the damp stone walls in the winding stairwell until, at last, he moved into the light from another lamp marking the top of the steps.
The narrow corridor ahead was dark, save for the light emanating from the second barred doorway. Padding softly to the door’s edge, Markaeus peered into the spacious chamber, spying a shirtless man repeatedly hefting a huge stone over his head. Mesmerized by the incredible display of strength, Markaeus stared in wonder as the muscles on the man’s back and arms flexed and bulged.
As the man dropped the stone to the floor with a clunk, Markaeus stepped out of sight, remaining close by to see what feat the strong man would next perform. He crouched low and leaned over, stealing a quick glance through the bars.
“Vindrake must be desperate to appoint a guard with so few years.”
Startled by the voice at the bars, Markaeus lost his balance, tumbling onto his rear end. He looked up from the floor at the face of the strong man at the gate with arms resting on a crossbar, hands clasped together outside the bars.
Markaeus crab-walked back and rose to his feet, dusting off his pants. “I’m no guard of Vindrake’s. I haven’t taken his bondmark and never will.”
Strongman gave a grim smile. “Then I hope you like what you see, for this will be your future if you refuse my brother. This or death, which would be far preferred.”
“Vindrake is your brothe
r?”
“Would that I could claim otherwise, but I can’t deny it. Of course, his real name is Drakeon, though few are left alive to remember that fact. What is your business here, if you’re no guard? Other than lurking in dark corners to invade my privacy, such as it is?”
“Nothing. I’ve only come to bring my brother a bit of dried meat. Well met, brother of Vindrake.” Markaeus turned to go.
“I can help you.”
Markaeus froze, rotating to regard Strongman with suspicion. “How could you help me?”
“You’re planning to escape with your brother, aren’t you? You're a gressor, I’m guessing. A rare, but useful minor gift.” Strongman pressed his face between the bars. “I can help you get away.”
“How do you know that?”
“When you fell back, I saw you have on two cloaks, which explains why the one you’re wearing is too large. And you’ve a rucksack hidden under there, as well. You’re not nearly so plump as you appear.”
“Perhaps I’m wearing two cloaks because the wind is bitter cold. And perhaps I like to carry my rucksack rather than it be stolen in the night.”
“I know these caverns and passageways. I know a secret way out. Just set me free, and I’ll show you.”
“Do you refer to the east tunnel? The one behind the alcove that ends at the refuse dump?”
Disappointment shadowed Strongman’s face, and Markaeus turned again.
“Wait! I can protect you from the guards; one will be returning any moment.” Strongman lowered his voice to a whisper. “He could be coming up the stairway as we speak.”
“No sentry is due here until just before dawn.” Markaeus spoke over his shoulder, with regret at the desperation in Strongman’s expression. “I’m sorry, but it will be easier for two small boys to disappear on their own. I very much wish I could take you along, but I can’t.”
Markaeus jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and shouts. Voices echoed up the stairwell. “But Sire, what does this intruder look like? A man? A woman?”
“Search everywhere! Examine everyone you see. I know not if the intruder is male or female, but he’s dripping wet and he has my scroll!”
*****
Alora turned her head to the side as her stomach wretched yet again. But she was reduced to dry heaves, having already emptied the contents on the floor in Vindrake’s quarters. Embarrassed, knowing he would assume it was a reaction to her fear, she was tempted to defend herself and proclaim the nausea a result of her discernment gifting. On the other hand, Vindrake didn’t know she possessed a second major gift, and she was determined not to reveal a shred of information with any possible value.
Shackled as she was, with iron cuffs chaining her arms and legs to the corners of the platform, she would’ve been lying in a pool of vomitus had her stomach not been empty. Kaevin lay on an adjacent table, chained likewise, his lip swollen and bleeding as a result of his resistance. Alora wondered for a moment why her father would possess a room equipped with shackled tables, until the obvious reason occurred… a place to torture people. The thought was both terrifying and revolting. Despite Kaevin’s bolstering words, Alora knew she wasn’t really brave. She had zero pain tolerance; she was even afraid of shots. God, if you get me through this, I’ll never complain about going to the dentist again.
The door opened, and Vindrake entered, looking rather agitated. He called two of his three guards to the side, conferring in low tones and sending them rushing out the door. Composing his features, Vindrake moved to face Kaevin and Alora, standing with his hands clasped in front of him. “I hope you’ve found our accommodations comfortable so far. I’d like to introduce you to my new chief shaman, Empusa. She’ll be helping me with our… negotiations.”
The woman, who’d been working across the room with her back to Alora and Kaevin, dusted off her hands and flipped back her hood, turning to face them. Alora almost gasped aloud. She was beautiful. She glided across the room like a runway model. High cheekbones accented smooth coffee-with-cream skin. Ice blond hair hung in board-straight glossy sheathes, framing her deep blue eyes. Her features were flawless. Too flawless. Her beauty was enticing, and Alora wondered if she was projecting some kind of illusion.
The enticement ended when she drew close. She wore wickedness like a cloud of heavy perfume, and Alora felt the familiar saliva flow that preceded a dry heave. Empusa took her place beside Vindrake, a cold emotionless statue, a stark contrast to his Jekkyl-and-Hyde demeanor.
“Empusa has been very busy, preparing for this day. I’d hoped you might some day travel through the portal and into my lair, but I didn’t expect you so soon. I’m astonished a daughter of mine would actually be so foolish. Did you truly believe you had a chance to succeed?”
“We’ve already succeeded.” Alora tried to steady her voice. “Even if you kill Kaevin and me, we’ve won.”
“I see you believe your words are truth, but I wouldn’t be so smug, my dear. Your friend will not escape with my property or his life. You didn’t think I’d discover your third party or his vain attempt at thievery?” Only the tell-tale twitching of his left eye told her how agitated he was. “Tell me, Alora, how did you know about the scroll?”
What scroll? What’s he talking about? The words were on her lips when Kaevin replied, “Father knows many of your secrets.”
The veins bulged on the side of Vindrake’s face as he snarled, “How does he know my secrets?”
Kaevin turned his head away, pressing his lips together.
“Tell me how he knows!” Vindrake’s entire body quivered as he stretched out his hand toward Kaevin and clenched his fist.
Kaevin screamed in pain, as did Alora.
Vindrake’s fury vanished as his fist relaxed, moving to stroke his beard. He cocked his head and spoke in a calm, clinical voice. “Interesting… I’ve learned much about soulmates since I discovered your bond. But I haven’t heard of a bonded pair who shared their pain sensations. I must say your unique problem is a bonus for me.” He pulled the corners of his mouth back, displaying his teeth in a sadistic smile. “Simultaneous torture.”
“Just knock another thing off your bucket list,” Alora muttered under her breath. Don’t the people who get tortured in the movies ignore the pain by joking about it?
“There’s no need to worry; I don’t intend to mutilate your soulmate. I want him in prime condition when I send him to kill his father.”
“I’ll never swear fealty to you, though you break every bone in my body.” Kaevin forced the words between his tight lips.
“Oh, but you will. Trust me, you will. Pain is a great motivator. Anyway, I don’t intend to torture you, I’ll torture Alora.”
“No!” Kaevin jerked against his chains, eliciting a snort of mirth from Vindrake. His expression was so full of arrogance Alora’s temper took over her mouth.
“It doesn’t matter what you do, I still won’t use my gift for you. And I won’t let Kaevin live with your bloodbond. I’m not afraid to die. I’ll just kill myself and we’ll both die.”
Vindrake’s expression didn’t change at her outburst. “Perhaps you’ll be interested in another little nugget of information I’ve gleaned concerning soulmates. Your bond prevents you from doing just that.” His eyebrows lifted. “Oh, I see I’ve surprised you again. How amusing.”
“My father will destroy you. He knows we’ve been captured, and he’ll come for us.”
“Yes, I believe he’ll come.” Vindrake leaned over Kaevin. “I’ll enjoy nothing more than to draw Graely BarManasae to battle in my own territory. When he arrives from Laegenshire, three days from now at the earliest, his forces will be meager. Few will volunteer to leave their homes and crops to die in a fight against Water Clan. They will weigh their options and choose the easier one… to accept my rule and escape with their lives.”
Despair descended, blanketing Alora’s consciousness. His words had a ring of truth to them, sucking the hope from her body. Her shoulders and hips ached fr
om lying with her arms and legs wrenched to the corners. Tugging against her bonds, the iron cuffs bit into her flesh. A fresh wave of nausea swept through her gut, and she dry-heaved yet again.
Her action caught Vindrake’s attention and brought a smile to his lips. He’s so vile. How could I have ever hoped he would change?
“It’s time to begin.” Vindrake straightened, whipping around and pulling his outer cloak over his head to toss it against the wall. “Empusa, do you have the iron ready?”
“Yes, Sire.” She glided to the table at the back of the room, returning with a foot-long iron rod with a flat disc at the end slightly larger than a silver dollar. Vindrake took the rod and held the disk before Kaevin’s eyes so he could inspect it. Then he showed the disc to Alora. On the flat metal surface was a carved image of a demonic creature with six horns, the same monster painted on the three-story wall in his chamber.
“So you’ve become a demon-worshipper?” Kaevin’s voice held more pity than fear. “You’ve traded your soul and abandoned the faith of your father?”
Vindrake threw the rod on the floor with such force it clanged and bounced across the room. “I’m no demon-worshipper! He obeys me! I use my God-given gifts to control him, to bend him to my will!” His hand quaked as he pointed a bony finger across the room. “Empusa! Retrieve the iron!”
As Empusa moved to fetch the demon-rod, Vindrake turned his back to Alora and Kaevin, stomping a few steps away to let out a frustrated scream and running agitated fingers through his jet-black hair.
Alora stole a glance at Kaevin. His gaze locked with hers, a penetrating stare, heightened by glistening tears.
“I love you,” he mouthed.
“I love you, too.” She realized, with wonder, her words were true. More than a fleeting teenage crush, she loved this boy who’d sworn to lay down his life for her.
“Marry me?” A wry grin contrasted with the teardrops flowing from his eyes.
