Control (Book Seven) (Fated Saga Fantasy Series)

by Humphrey - D'aigle, Rachel

  They called him Scarface, when referring to him outside of the prison.

  The prison got three burlap sacks delivered every other evening, with just enough food for each prisoner to live on until the next delivery.

  Joseph caught his foot and tripped.

  His burlap sacks emptied onto the floor.

  “Sorry!” he called out. “Sorry!” he said to the guard, while scrounging around to pick up all the food that had fallen out.

  Mireya set her sack down and assisted him.

  “Really, Joseph, be more careful!” she scolded.

  The guards grunted their agreement in that sentiment.

  Daveena had already made it to the prisoner and the moment Joseph fell, she leaned in and whispered, “Bread’s well done.” She leaned back before the guards had taken their eyes off clumsy Joseph.

  The prisoner did not reply to Daveena, not even with a nod. It was too dangerous. He took the sack from her and set it down while he waited for Joseph and Mireya to hand over theirs, too. Once he had all three in hand, he turned and took the sacks to a small, makeshift kitchen.

  Daveena handed the extra sack filled with fresh bread to the guards. As usual, their greedy hands dug right in.

  The prison kitchen was a mockery of a kitchen. There was a table. A wood stove. A single large pot to cook with, along with a handful of bowls, plates and spoons; this is all they were permitted. Plus, one very dull knife. There wasn’t even enough tableware for all the prisoners to eat at one time. They had to eat in shifts.

  A woman followed in behind the man nicknamed Scarface. She assisted him in emptying the food sacks, and set in to throwing things into the pot, to create whatever remotely edible thing she could.

  Scarface cut up the bread into pre-sliced portions. This was hard to do with a dull knife, but he kept his head down and cut the best he could. When he heard the slightest clink as he cut, he stopped and looked from side to side, with only the smallest of movements.

  No one was watching that he could see. The woman cooking made loud clanking noises with the pot and the lid, keeping any outside attention on her. Scarface slid his hand into the loaf and gently pulled out a vial hidden inside, tucking it under his shirtsleeve.

  Two loaves this time. She had hidden two vials and a knife inside. One vial was marked, medicinal; the other was labeled with a black letter X, with the word boom, written by hand underneath.

  Scarface left the slices, ready to be eaten as soon as the stew was finished, making his way to the outhouse, which was outside near the back of the courtyard. Once inside the outhouse, he kneeled down and pulled up one of the floorboards, where a hole had been dug a few inches into the hard, frozen dirt. He placed the vials inside, next to six others the youngsters had successfully delivered. He replaced the floorboard and turned on his knees to the opposite side, lifting another floorboard. In that hole, he put the knife, alongside another knife and a small pair of scissors.

  When that board was back in place, he sank to the floor. It was cold. It smelled. Three-inch-wide barn spiders lined the area surrounding the toilet bowl, like gray-skinned, eight legged statues. To this day, he had never actually seen one move. And he’d been sharing space with these spiders nearly all his life.

  He took in the moment, feeling thankful.

  Thankful that these youngsters were putting up a fight.

  That they were being smart.

  That they were not just giving in.

  They didn’t have much time, though. All he’d been able to pass along to the children was that they needed to escape. Children, he thought. Certainly don’t act like children, he decided. They were taking major risks doing what they were doing.

  He got up and exited the outhouse. He nodded a greeting to each prisoner he passed by. The nod was meant to tell them today’s exchange was successful. To give them hope.

  They had just over a week until their public trial; which meant just under a week to make their escape.

  Would they succeed?

  He did not know. He only knew they had to try.

  He leaned up against the tall metal fence and started whistling.

  Outside the prison, the food delivery cart pulled away leaving Daveena, Mireya and Joseph to walk home on their own. They stalled, Mireya kneeling down to tie up her bootlace.

  The three hid smiles cracking uncontrollably as they heard the whistle they were waiting for wafting their direction.

  Joseph couldn’t help but walk close enough to Mireya that he could grasp her hand and they walked.

  They wouldn’t allow Juliska Blackwell to kill those prisoners.

  They’d keep working towards freeing them, even if it was one hidden potion bottle at a time.

  ##

  The trail of magic weakened.

  Colin followed it at incredible speed, nearing the destination. He knew he was close when the sweet scent of Catrina mingled with the magic.

  She was close.

  Colin appeared out of thin air and heard Catrina’s voice call out upon seeing him. Without thinking or even glancing around at his surroundings, he raced to her.

  “Stop!” he heard her shout.

  He did so, but hesitantly.

  Catrina took a deep breath, one that was both a mix of relief that Colin was here, as well as that she had something to tell him; something he was not going to be pleased to hear.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “Yes. But stay where you are. Don’t come any closer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you might get hurt.”

  “How? It doesn’t even matter, I can heal myself. I’m not leaving you in there.”

  “If you come in here, you won’t be able to get out!” she exclaimed.

  This got Colin’s attention.

  Something scraped against the floor and he spun around. Straws of hay splayed under his feet. Where am I? A barn?

  “That wasn’t there before,” he noted, upon seeing an oblong shaped mirror sitting a few feet away.

  The ghostly silhouette of a man’s face formed in the glass.

  “How do you like my little prison?” a coarse voice asked.

  Colin raised his palm, ready to strike. “You!” he found himself sputtering out hatefully a second later.

  Freyne Rothrock’s jeering smile glared back at him.

  “You have the gall to kidnap my girlfriend and then not even have the nerve to show your actual face,” said Colin.

  “No need. You won’t be using any magic in here, not today.”

  Colin just shook his head in an irritated manner.

  His thoughts ordered, I want Catrina by my side, we’re leaving now.

  But she did not appear at his side.

  He looked back at her. She was still standing exactly where she had been; inside a three walled stall. The gate to the stall was long gone. The entire barn looked as though it were barely standing. It definitely had not been used for a long time.

  “I’m stuck in here,” Catrina told Colin.

  “It’s not possible, I can get you out of anything,” he said, putting all of his focus onto freeing her.

  “Stop,” she pleaded. She stepped forward and put her hands into the air, searching for something with her palms. “Can you see it?” she asked him.

  “See what?” He stepped closer, squinting in an attempt to see.

  It took a moment, but then he saw it. A nearly invisible layer of what looked like dust.

  “It’s made out of Jasper’s bones,” she said in a disgusted tone.

  “Yes, she’s right,” echoed Freyne’s voice. “You see, I figured if the bones of a dead Projector could steal the power of a living Projector, just perhaps, just maybe, it might also be a weapon a Projector’s powers cannot control.” He let out a hearty bellow. “Looks like I was right.”

  Colin refused to believe him.

  He attacked the layer of dust with every bit of will, trying to blast through it, break it apart, separate it, bri
ng Catrina through it.

  Nothing worked! It was as if he suddenly had no magical powers what-so-ever!

  Anger billowed in his gut.

  Anger that Freyne had disturbed Jasper’s body; anger that he had stupidly left Catrina unprotected, and anger that she was now a prisoner and even he, with all his power, could not free her.

  No. It was not possible.

  He lashed out at the dust wall again.

  Blood vessels popped out on his forehead in an effort to think her free; nothing he did had any affect. He could not break it down. He could not crack it. He could not penetrate it.

  His magic searched for any hole he could punch through, but Freyne had surrounded Catrina in a prison built from Jasper’s bones.

  “It appears that once dead, a Projector’s own bones turn against itself. Thus, becoming the ultimate weapon against your kind,” said Freyne, his voice indignant.

  “What’s stopping me from just grabbing someone else and having them use non-Projector’s magic to free her?” Colin retorted.

  “I’m not stupid, boy! You think I’d make it that easy for you? The spell you’d have to break is ancient. No one in this time will be able to help you.”

  “So why don’t you just get to the point of this already,” demanded Colin. “Why not capture me and let her go? That’s what you really want, right?”

  “Ah, yes, well you see, there’s actually something I need you to do for me.”

  “Colin, whatever he’s asking, don’t do it,” begged Catrina. “Find some other way to free me. Don’t do it.”

  Colin heard her pleas but kept an unblinking gaze on Freyne’s mirrored image.

  “There is someone that I want you to free, from another prison. One I know you’re not completely powerless against,” said Freyne.

  “And why would I do this?” Colin asked.

  “Oh, I think you will. If not, then I won’t find it in my heart to release your little gal pal over there.”

  Colin lowered his head.

  There had been a time when he was used to being ordered around, and would have accepted it at once, knowing the consequences would be much worse if he did not.

  This was not a feeling he ever wanted to feel again.

  But for Catrina, it didn’t matter. He’d have gotten on his knees and licked Freyne’s feet to save Catrina.

  “Where is this person? Where are they imprisoned?”

  He heard Catrina beg him again not to do it but he tuned her out.

  “Jurekai Fazendiin’s estate,” replied Freyne. “She’s been there for a very long time. And it is about time she was set free.”

  “It’s a she. So what, some long lost girlfriend of yours?”

  Freyne let out a deep chortle. “Never. An enemy as old as we Grosvenor.”

  “Enemy?” repeated Colin, unsure he heard correctly.

  “Yes. Don’t ask why, my reasons are my own! Just free her. Bring me back a single strand of her hair as proof. Once I know she is free your bird gets out of her cage.”

  “Really? That easy. Free this woman, return with a strand of her hair and just like that, you free Catrina. For some reason, I don’t trust you.”

  “I don’t break bargains,” barked Freyne. “And the job won’t be easy! If it was easy I’d have done it myself!”

  “You know, I’m starting to get the impression that you Grosvenor don’t like to get your hands dirty. You prefer to let anyone else do your dirty work for you.”

  “Why mess with a good thing?” Freyne said.

  Colin’s nerves tingled. Breaking into the estate of Jurekai Fazendiin was bound to be anything but easy. Even with his powers and the fact that he could not die, he did not relish the idea.

  But if this is what it took to free Catrina, then that’s what he needed to do.

  “Fine,” agreed Colin. “I’ll free this long time enemy of yours. I’ll return here with the proof.” He took in a meaningful breath. “However, if you try to break the agreement, or even think about not freeing Catrina, or get some lame idea that I will become a willing puppet to continue your dirty work...” Colin let out a determined breath, “I will hunt you down. I will not just kill you, I will destroy you. And you know that I can.”

  “Which is why I will keep my end of the deal, boy!” Freyne shouted impatiently.

  “Where on the estate is this woman imprisoned?” asked Colin. “Do you know at least that much?”

  “She is inside the house,” muttered Freyne. “She is inside the very walls. Jurekai’s dear old mummy.”

  “His mother?” stammered Colin. “What do you mean she’s in the walls?”

  Freyne did not answer Colin, instead, saying, “One last thing... when the time comes to enter the estate you cannot go alone. You’ll need help to enter. Help only one person can give you.”

  “And just who is that?” asked Colin, thinking this entire deal was getting more complicated by the minute.

  “That girl. Meghan. Yes, that’s the one. Meghan Jacoby.”

  This infuriated Colin instantly.

  “Why would I need her help?”

  Freyne did not reply. His image started to blur and fade.

  “Answer me!” roared Colin.

  The mirror was empty. Just Colin staring back at himself.

  Meghan! Of all people, why her? He had more or less forgiven her for what she had done, but was he ready to see her again? To ask for her help? Would she even give it?

  Freyne was gone. He wouldn’t get his questions answered.

  He spun around and went back to Catrina, careful not to touch the dust-bone wall between them.

  “Are you really okay?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied in a small voice.

  “I’m so sorry. I left the lighthouse, for just a few minutes and when I got back, you were gone and I realized I messed up. Badly.”

  “Colin,” she started. “What’s done is done. I can’t get out of here now until you do this thing he’s asking.”

  “I’ll hurry. I’ll be as fast as I can,” he promised.

  “Colin. Don’t be rash. Don’t hurry. I’ll be okay here.” She glanced around and tried to conceal a shudder.

  “I can’t do it. I can’t leave you here,” Colin told her.

  “I don’t want to stay here, just as equally as you don’t want to leave me here. We don’t have a choice. For whatever reason, he wants this woman freed.”

  “Doesn’t it seem odd to you? He calls her their oldest enemy, and yet he wants her freed... and the woman I am freeing is Jurekai’s own mother. Something just doesn’t add up.”

  “No. It doesn’t. But I guess that doesn’t matter for right now. Colin,” she began.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you going to be okay? Doing this without me?”

  “Like you said, I don’t have a choice.”

  “And reuniting with Meghan? Can you handle that?”

  “Yes,” he replied, although his tone wasn’t sure. “Yes,” he said more confidently. “I can handle it.” He didn’t want Catrina worrying about him flying off the handle and losing it the entire time she was stuck here.

  “Please be careful,” she whimpered. “I know you’ll be worried about me, but promise me you won’t do anything rash.”

  “I will worry about you. Every single moment I’m gone. I don’t know if I can do it... leave you here... you don’t even have any food or water! Or warm enough clothes.”

  “Freyne told me before you arrived that if I needed food or water to ask for it and it would arrive. I’m not sure I want to know what his version of food is... he claimed it was part of the magic he used to create this prison. And I’m not cold.”

  In truth, she was a little cold, but she wasn’t about to tell him that.

  “Look, I’m no happier about being here than you are, but obviously, Freyne doesn’t want me dead. He could have killed me numerous times already.”

  To further prove her point, she called out, “Water please.”<
br />
  A glass appeared, sitting on the ground. She picked it up and tasted it. “It’s fine,” she insisted.

  He couldn’t speak. He knew she was putting up a brave front, and he knew he had to go, but he had a hard time just taking his eyes off her. His chest ached at the mere thought of letting her out of his sight.

  “When I get you out of here,” he began, “I am never leaving your side again. I don’t care who needs my help, or who we need to hide from... never again. I love you.”

  He wanted so desperately to wrap his arms around her and carry her away from this place.

  “I love you,” she whispered back.

  It took every ounce of strength he had to leave.

  Catrina watched her savior disappear.

  She heard a distant bellow from the direction of Freyne’s mirror.

  “He will kill you, you know,” she responded confidently. “It’s only a matter of time.”

  There was no reply but the laughter stopped.

  ##

  Many hours had passed since the mysterious ship landed in the middle of the banished encampment earlier that morning.

  Everyone on board with injuries now treated, waited anxiously along with many others for a long meeting to end; between Nashua, the Tunkapog leader, Curtis Bevins, current leader of the banished Svoda and the new arrivals. Billie and Noah spoke on behalf of the group.

  As an advisor to Nashua, Kanda sat in as well, along with Arnon Jacoby and a few others from the banished camp.

  Ivan, Meghan, Nona, and Sebastien all waited together. Jae had decided to return to bed, after another cup of Kanda’s potion laden tea during lunch. It was coming up on night and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with Meghan and Ivan. Neither had slept properly in days. Kanda’s tea was looking like a better option by the minute.

  Nevertheless, both stayed awake, desperate to find out what was happening on the island. And what was going to happen after this meeting ended.

  If the plan to confront Fazendiin and reclaim the Stone would be postponed, in order to confront Juliska Blackwell, or if nothing would change and the Immortality Stone would still take precedent.

  Meghan hung her head looking distressed. “If Billie and the rest of her crew had to escape on a ship belonging to the Stripers, things must have gone down hill, fast.”