The Gift

by Bryan M. Litfin

  “You’re going to the quarries for sure, you dog,” said Pig-Nose.

  The leader turned to his partner with a smirk. “No, she ain’t. She’ll get much worse than that. She’s goin’ down the hole. Buried alive—that’s the penalty for murdering the dohj.”

  Buried alive . . .

  The words made Ana’s knees go slack. She wanted to fight back, to argue, to resist the dire prediction. But she had no strength.

  “Turn her around,” the leader said.

  The pig-nosed man sneered and grabbed hold of Ana, spinning her toward the wall with her face pressed against the clammy stones. Though she squirmed, he held her in place with a firm grip on the backs of her arms. She couldn’t see what the men were preparing to do.

  The sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath made Ana’s heart leap in her chest. What’s happening? What’s going on? Desperation rose within her as she realized she had no rights at all. Down here in this secret place, the cruel men could do anything they wished. Ana tried to steel herself against whatever pain might be about to come.

  A hand seized her hair and yanked it roughly. From the corner of her eye, she saw the leader raise his knife toward her head.

  “No!” she cried.

  The man began to slice the blade back and forth.

  Sadness engulfed Ana as she realized her hair was being shorn. The blade was dull, and it felt like the jailer was ripping her hair from her scalp rather than cutting it. Ana’s tresses fell away in large chunks. She had always taken pride in her thick, honey-colored hair. Now it lay in piles on the floor.

  “That should do it,” the leader said. The other man released his hold.

  Ana put her hands to the back of her head. Instead of the long hair that used to hang over her shoulders, she felt only uneven tufts. Though she was glad her head hadn’t been shaved bald, she knew the rough haircut made her look disheveled and freakish. Tears rose to her eyes as the men guffawed at her distress.

  Pig-Nose pointed and grinned. “Look at her cry like a baby!”

  “She ain’t so pretty with all her hair chopped off, huh? And guess what else? She’s a Defective.”

  What? Ana was startled by the leader’s assertion. How could he know about my scar? She straightened her shoulders and met the man’s gaze. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  “Oh yeah? You think I don’t know what’s happening in my own jail? I run this place! I had your charges read to me. You killed the dohj, and you’ll be executed for that. But if not, the shamans will cart you away for that mark on your hip. The daughter of some rich Ulmbartian told them you’re scarred. Face it, little girl, you’re twice condemned.”

  A sick feeling seized Ana. “What was the daughter’s name?”

  “Vatina Labello, or somethin’ like that.”

  No! That can’t be! Vanita is my friend! Why would she . . . ?

  Ana stared at the floor as the awful truth sank in. The dohj. Vanita betrayed me!

  The thought made Ana reel. It was all too much. First Cristof’s savage attack, then the harsh imprisonment, then the ridicule and mockery, and now this backstabbing from a supposed friend. Though Ana tried to keep her voice firm, she felt shaky and weak. She faced her two tormentors. “No matter what people may say, I am not a murderer. And I am not defective.”

  The jailer lunged at Ana and grabbed her arm. With his other hand he hiked up the hem of her sackcloth tunic.

  “Leave me alone!” Ana cried, wrestling with the cruel man. Pig-Nose urged him on with lusty cheers.

  “Look at that!” the jailer shouted as he exposed Ana’s hip. “It’s disgusting!”

  Ana wrenched herself free and stepped back from the men as far as she could. “No,” she said evenly. “What’s disgusting is your inability to look past imperfection.”

  The two men exchanged glances. Each hoped the other would have a swift comeback, but neither could produce one.

  “Stupid girl,” the leader finally muttered, swatting his hand.

  Ana remained silent as she stared at the brutes. They turned and left the cell, locking the door behind them. Ana slumped to the floor with her arms above her head.

  Vanita, how could you?

  She began to weep. For a long time she sat in the stinking cell and let tears spill down her cheeks. Her shoulders heaved as the agony in her soul came pouring out. Ana reflected on the months she had spent in Ulmbartia and Likuria. All the amusements she had viewed as enjoyable now seemed frivolous and tawdry. She regretted her extravagant lifestyle, her immodesty, her prideful and sensual perspective. She had listened to lies and made unwise choices. The end of it all wasn’t peace but emptiness and despair.

  Deu, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!

  Ana’s weeping intensified as she lamented the state of her spiritual life. Though she had never rejected Deu outright, she had excluded him from her day-to-day activities. Many months earlier she had come over the mountains to seek the truth of Deu so the people of Chiveis could know about him. But somehow she had forgotten that goal amid the sunshine and luxuries and fancy parties. Ana realized she had lost her focus . . . lost her way . . . lost her true identity. Instead of worshiping the true God, she had become captivated by idols.

  O merciful Deu, she prayed at last, her fingers clenching and unclenching, I need you so much! Please, please, please don’t reject me! Oh, forgive my sinful ways. I admit it all! Ana shivered, and she turned her face to wipe her eyes against the dirty sackcloth on her shoulders. My God, I don’t see any way out. I know I don’t deserve to ask you for any favors, but there’s one thing I would beg of your grace. Don’t let my life be wasted! You know I want Chiveis to hear your truth. In whatever way you see fit, use me to bring your name to the homeland I love. Please, Deu! Come to my people, and somehow let me be your servant again in that holy task.

  I miss you, Deu.

  Ana’s chin fell to her chest. Though her tears were spent, grief had not released its hold. Dry shudders wracked her body, and there was no one at her side to share her pain.

  The city of Manacho lay spread before Teo, crowning a rocky promontory whose cliffs plunged into the sea. The city’s buildings were constructed of marble in imposing proportions, for while Nuo Genov used marble to decorate, Manacho used it to dominate. Somewhere beneath one of those haughty buildings, Anastasia languished in her chains, alone and afraid.

  Teo stood on the deck of Marco’s clipper ship, the Midnight Glider—a name Teo considered appropriate for a pirate vessel. Convincing Marco to make the voyage to Likuria’s capital had required some arm-twisting. Nevertheless, despite Marco’s complaints about the navy ships that always lurked around the port, he had seemed eager to combat the injustice being perpetrated on Ana. Something told Teo the pirate wasn’t the scoundrel he pretended to be.

  “There it is,” Marco said, pointing to a white building perched on the edge of the cliff. “That’s the courthouse.”

  Teo eyed the building from the deck’s bulwark. It pained him to think that Ana was enduring hardship right now, locked up in some harsh dungeon. It pained him even more to think of the mode of execution planned for her. Marco had explained that the worst offenders in Likuria were dropped into an oubliette, a narrow shaft in the courthouse floor. Often the condemned were forced to drink seawater to exacerbate their thirst before suffering a claustrophobic death in a deep, dark well. The sensation of being trapped in a tight space beneath the earth, unable to move as one’s muscles cramped in the utter darkness, was enough to drive a person insane.

  “One time they hauled up a guy after only two days in the hole,” Marco had told Teo during the trip to Manacho. “His hair had turned white all over, and he could no longer speak. He just stared into space and babbled. When they were about to lower him again, he got loose before they could rope him up.”

  “What happened to him?” Teo asked.

  “Dived headfirst down the hole.”

  Teo grimaced as he stared at the cour
thouse. I will never let Anastasia die in torment like that!

  He turned toward Marco. “What do you know about the courthouse’s defenses? Is the place heavily guarded?”

  “It’ll be crawling with troops on the day of the trial. You can’t see it from this side, but there’s a garrison across the plaza from the front door.”

  Teo analyzed the building from a tactical perspective. Though it sat on the cliff, it didn’t face the sea. Apparently it fronted onto a plaza, while its rear wall dropped straight to the churning water below. There was no space to walk behind the courthouse because the wall aligned with the edge of the cliff, meaning no guards would ever be back there. It would provide a stealthy approach—if one could find a way to scale the massive rock face.

  “Can you row me to the base of that cliff?” Teo asked.

  Marco shook his head. “The waves would smash a boat against the rocks. The best I could do would be to get you within a short swimming distance.”

  “Do it,” Teo said. He began to unbutton his leather jerkin.

  The waves were rough and the sea was cold when Teo dived from the boat after being rowed out. He made for the cliff face with the strong strokes of an experienced swimmer. No other ships were nearby because the winds weren’t favorable for sailing. That’s to my advantage, Teo thought as he cut through the water.

  At the base of the cliff he hauled himself out of the sea by a couple of slippery handholds. Craning his neck, he glanced up. The rock face seemed much higher from here than when he had surveyed it from the deck of the Midnight Glider. The blue sky beyond the cliff-top seemed impossibly far away. Teo looked around at the choppy water, realizing that to fall from more than halfway up the cliff would mean certain death. Jagged rocks thrust from the sea, and the pounding waves foamed them up like the fangs of a rabid dog. Yet despite the danger, Teo resolved to ascend a short distance and test his options. If this was the best way to save Anastasia, it was worth a try.

  Teo put his foot on a mossy protuberance, but as he did, he was startled to notice an object wedged into a crevice in the cliff. He released his handholds and dropped into the water, then swam over to the thing that had caught his eye. Closer examination confirmed his initial suspicion: the object was a human skull.

  Floating in the water, Teo considered what this turn of events might mean. It seemed important, though at first he couldn’t figure out why. There’s no reason for a skull to be here, he realized. No one would be likely to fall from this place on the cliff. The sea currents wouldn’t have brought it this way. So what is it doing here then? The significance of the skull’s presence eluded Teo, until suddenly everything clicked into place. Excited about the unexpected discovery, he pushed himself away from the wall and began studying the rock face.

  The Likurians had been executing convicts at the courthouse for decades. Their oubliette was deep but not bottomless. Over time the mortal remains would pile up. That meant the hole would have to be emptied from time to time. But how? Would the putrid bones of the condemned be hauled into the elegant courthouse of Manacho? Or would a better solution be . . . a clean-out shaft that opened to the sea?

  Teo stared at the cliff, looking for two things in particular. He inclined his head and swam around to different vantage points until he found what he was looking for. About three-quarters of the way up the cliff, Teo discerned what looked like the dark mouth of a narrow opening. Below it a thin line traced its way down the rock face. When a gust of wind stirred the line and moved it slightly, Teo knew it was what he had supposed it to be: a dangling rope. Evidently some agile servant was sent periodically to access the bottom of the oubliette and dump its grisly contents into the ocean.

  Cautiously, Teo scaled the cliff until he reached the end of the rope. The opening that was his destination was still far above him, but the rope was knotted, and he was able to climb it. At last he reached the place where the rope was fastened to a piton pounded into the stone. Next to it was a hole in the wall. Teo crawled inside.

  The clean-out shaft was inclined at a very steep angle, and the rocks were slick with seepage. Only a series of notches carved into the slope allowed Teo to ascend without sliding down. Feeling his way forward, he crept deeper into the heart of the earth. At every moment he maintained at least three contact points with the notches. He had removed his shirt for the swim from the ship’s boat to the cliff, and now the rock felt clammy against his chest. With painstaking deliberation he inched up the shaft until the entrance was a dot of light far below, and the tunnel ahead was pitch-black oblivion.

  Finally Teo’s probing hands touched a wooden door overhead. The shaft became vertical, and Teo realized he had reached the underside of the oubliette’s floor. This would indeed be a terrifying place to live out one’s final, pain-wracked hours. With a clenched jaw and gritted teeth, Teo swore anew he would never let Ana perish in such horrific torment.

  Knowing the trapdoor must have a brace to support it, Teo stretched upward with his tiptoes in the climbing notches until his hand closed on a thick piece of iron. He tried to twist it in his fingers, but the brace was stiff. Grabbing it with two hands, he gave it a hard yank, then instantly realized his mistake.

  The heavy trapdoor dropped open and smacked Teo on the head. The blow was hard enough to stun him, but worse, it knocked him from his footholds. He tumbled down the shaft in an awkward position, unable to arrest his fall. Twisting around, Teo careened off a wall until he was sliding on his back instead of his stomach. The bright hole at the end of the tunnel sped toward him as he looked down between his feet. In a matter of seconds he would plummet into the sea. Teo frantically sought a handhold, but there was nothing to grab.

  Just as he was about to be ejected from the cliff, Teo managed to spread his legs wide enough to create friction against the walls with his feet. The tactic slowed his descent, though not enough to stop his fall completely. He shot feetfirst from the hole into open space. As he did, he made his grab, knowing he would have only one chance.

  Teo’s left hand seized the rope that dangled next to the opening. He clenched his fist and determined to hang on no matter what. The rope went taut at the end of Teo’s outstretched arm, yanking him out of his free fall. The sudden deceleration wrenched his shoulder socket and sent pain shooting down his arm. He swung toward the rock wall and slammed into its unyielding face. Despite the teeth-rattling blow, Teo managed to keep his grip on the rope, then quickly grabbed it with his other hand as well. Wrapping his legs around the line, he stood on a knot and groaned as he let the pain dissipate from his body. At last he dared to look down. The sea’s toothy maw would have to wait for another day to claim a fallen victim.

  While Teo clutched the rope and caught his breath, he reworked his original plan. He had imagined he could climb up the shaft and wait until Ana was sentenced to death, as she surely would be. When everyone had left her for dead in the oubliette, he would open the shaft from below and make good their escape. But now Teo realized his plan was far too dangerous. In the cramped and precarious conditions of the clean-out tunnel, the chances were ten to one that either he or Ana or both would slip at some point and go tumbling into the sea.

  “There has to be a way to make this work,”Teo muttered as he dangled on the line. The discovery of the secret shaft was his best chance at a rescue, but how could he pull it off?

  The wheels turned furiously in Teo’s head. A new plan began to take shape, one that was complex, yet perfectly workable if a person knew what to do and followed the steps with precision. Instead of closing the trapdoor with the iron brace, the door could be wedged shut with a chunk of wood. If that stopper were pulled out, the door would fall, sending the unfortunate prisoner speeding down the shaft to a violent death. However, if a rope were threaded through the trapdoor’s gap into the oubliette, then tied off to a sturdy anchor point, the prisoner could hold onto the rope before removing the stopper. The trapdoor would drop, but the person could cling to the rope for safety. Then the prisoner
could ease toward the exit, descending hand over hand until reaching the outside. After climbing down to a waiting boat, the prisoner would escape, and no one would be the wiser. Teo grew excited as he considered his plan. This could work! All I need is a length of rope from the ship and a wooden wedge!

  Teo began to make his way down the cliff. As he reached the water, however, he realized his plan was riskier than he had first imagined. Perhaps if he could somehow draw it up or explain it to Ana, she could pull it off. But he would have no chance to speak with her prior to the trial. Even if he had such an opportunity, when the actual day came she would be terrified by the oppressive oubliette and physically and mentally weakened, and in no state for such a demanding task in a dangerous place. One mistake would send her plunging to her death.

  Teo started swimming to the waiting rowboat, frustrated to have come so close to a solution, yet to have fallen short. He pondered the problem while slicing through the waves. As he neared the boat, the answer hit him.

  Ana cannot be the one to go down the shaft.

  Ana had spent a hellish week in the cell. She was filthy and cold and weary. Her food had been meager. Her water was brackish. Her toilet was a bucket. Her sleep was fitful. Her chains were unyielding.

  And yet, unbelievably, Ana was at peace.

  As the hardships of her incarceration became worse, the renewed presence of Deu had become all the more sweet. Ana’s heart was soft again, and she could feel her God’s mercies once more. She finally had real prayers to say to him—not desperate pleas, but heartfelt words of intimate communion. Snippets of Deu’s holy book came to her mind, such as the promise of the twenty-third Hymn: “When I walk in the valley of death’s shadow, I won’t fear any evil, because you are with me.” Ana meditated on those powerful words, recalling how they had comforted her long ago when she still lived in Chiveis and Teofil had been captured by the forces of wickedness. All that seemed like a different world now.