by Casey Odell
The blonde woman kneeled beside Claire. She wore loose pants tucked into worn leather boots and a billowy white top that looked like it belonged to a man almost twice her size. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a loose bun, revealing a few fine lines on her forehead and around her eyes. She appeared to be Claire’s mother’s age, give or take a few years, but nowhere near as radiant. Or kind. There was a snake hiding behind her green eyes, just waiting for the opportunity to strike.
“How do you feel?”
“I’ve been better,” Claire croaked, her mouth dry. She felt nauseous and dizzy. And weak. And most of all, guilty. Worry sat on her chest heavy, almost suffocating.
“I’ll have someone bring you some soup,” she said, her face kind, though not genuinely. “I want you to know that you won’t be treated badly here. Not like how that fool Bertrand treated you. There is nothing to fear, I promise you.”
“Except for the fact that I am now your prisoner.”
The woman smiled and nodded. “I fear that you have been given the wrong impression about us. While you may have lost your freedom, you have gained a certain level of protection. You will be safe as long as you are under our watch. No one will try to use you. Or hurt you, as long as you obey the rules. And while I admit that our… methods may be harsh, I assure you that it is for the greater good. You will see.”
“I have no reason to trust anything that you say,” Claire spat out. If they were so kind, why did her mother risk everything to send her away? Claire had learned the hard way where blind trust could lead her, and this woman’s façade was thinner than the General’s had ever been.
Her smile turned into something a little darker— the snake rearing its head when it knew the niceties weren’t exactly working. “Well, my dear, it seems to me you have no other choice.” She leaned down closer to Claire, placing a hand on the other side of her so she had no choice but to look up into the woman’s intimidating stare. Her expression had changed so quickly, it put Aeron’s frequent mood swings to shame. “Let’s try this another way, shall we? You are now mine. If you behave, then I think we will get along just fine. If not, well, just know that it was I who trained that fool Bertrand and that silly little mother of yours. And I’m sure you know how frightening she could be.”
Claire gulped. Her mother was possibly one of the scariest people she had ever known and Bertrand hadn’t been so kind either. The woman’s true colors were finally showing, and Claire didn’t like what she saw. She was in the snake’s nest now and she would have to keep her head down and behave if she wanted to make it out unscathed. She nodded up at the woman silently.
“Good,” she said, leaning back. “I am Deliah. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Claire.”
It took another two days for the effect of the drug to finally wear off. She slept in the same room she had woken up in, on the thin bedding on the floor in front of the fireplace, making her body as stiff and achy as an old woman’s. The building was unlike anything she had ever seen. Furnishings and decorations were sparse, utilitarian, with clean lines and simple architecture. The doors slid closed on tracks and no beds or chairs were present, only cushions and pillows to kneel or sit on. Tall trees and greenery grew in an inner courtyard, where a path led down to a pond filled with orange and white fish. All of the windows and doors and hallways opened up to the courtyard, making her feel even more trapped and isolated. The outside world was off limits. It was a fortress, though she hadn’t expected anything less.
A guard sat outside her room at all times, though the woman who’d sat in her room the night she’d first woken up hadn’t returned. Nor had Deliah, which Claire was thankful for. The less contact she had with the woman, the less chance she had to say or do something that would land her in trouble. Or even more trouble than she was already in. Getting captured by the Syndicate was almost as bad as it could get. She supposed there were worse options out there— the General and the Council to name a few. Not to mention what the centaurs would probably do if they ever got their hands on her.
Orange and yellow leaves fell around her as she walked through the garden, one of the few things she was permitted to do without constant supervision, though she was positive she was being watched. The eerie feeling of eyes on her never seemed to leave her in this place.
A chill ran through her, not from the fact that she was being spied on, she was almost used to that by now, but from the cool breeze that swept through the trees, causing even more leaves to rain down. Winter was coming soon; a stark reminder of how much time had already passed, since the beginning of her mission, the beginning of her adventure, since everything had all started. It felt like a lifetime ago. A month had already passed and she was no nearer to her goal of finding the others.
She sighed, wrapping the cloak she’d gotten in Linesbrough around her tighter. They had given her a dress to wear, but it was thin and not at all suitable for the colder days ahead, not to mention made for someone much taller than herself. She tripped on the hem constantly. What they had done with her clothes and her weapons, she had no idea. She suspected Deliah or Bertrand had commandeered her blades. Farron wasn’t going to be happy about that. He would never give her a weapon ever again. That is, if she ever saw him again…
Claire stopped to look at the fish. They were odd, dotted with oranges, browns, and whites, beautiful but ugly at the same time. They swam languidly under green lily pads, not a care in the world. Perhaps she could be happy, or at least as complacent as them, if she could just let go and resign herself to her imprisonment.
She wondered if Lianna would be able to find her, or perhaps even Razi. She and him seemed to share some sort of connection ever since he had dived into her mind. Perhaps she could call out to him, send a signal to him somehow. But she had a feeling that in order for that to work she would need to get the silver bracelets and chains off of her arm. She didn’t know if she should be happy or sad that the contraption was suppressing her magic. It had kept the nightmares at bay so far, but that could have been the drug as well. In any case, the metal pinched and itched like no other. Shackles weren’t meant to be comfortable.
“You certainly don’t look bad to me.”
Claire jumped, her pulse quickening at the familiar deep voice, and turned to find the most recent object of her hatred: Bertrand.
“Deliah gave me quite the reprimand concerning your… treatment.” He grinned, not looking ashamed at all for his behavior, his gray eyes flashing with amusement.
Claire was taken aback. She didn’t think the woman cared so much. And deep down, it delighted her to know that Bertrand had been punished, no matter how light it had been. The fact that he wasn’t in charge and had to answer to someone else seemed to be a sore spot for him. He crossed his arms and a blue glint sparked from around his neck. It was only then that Claire noticed her pendant, half hidden underneath his jacket, hanging from a long gold chain.
“That’s mine!” She lunged at him before she could stop herself, reaching for her necklace.
He grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “I believe it is mine now. It’s my trophy for my finest catch.”
She scowled up at him, anger racing through her. She wasn’t some sort of game to be hunted, nor a prize or a treasure to be won or sought. “Give it back!” she snarled through clenched teeth. She tried to pry her wrist from his grip but he held fast. “I need it!”
“The only thing you need is to learn your place!” He pulled her closer, his other hand finding the back of her neck. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and forced her head back so she had no choice but to look up at him. “If it were up to me, you would be locked away in a tower where no one could ever find you.”
Claire pushed back against his chest, but he easily overpowered her. The magic inside of her flared to life but was extinguished by the cuffs just as quickly. His hatred for her and her kind ran deeper than she’d thought. Perhaps he had a history with one of her kind, an experience that didn’t go very well. Or ma
ybe he was just a naturally cruel man. In any case, she didn’t deserve the kind of treatment he was currently lavishing on her.
“Well, it’s not up to you, is it?” she said, unable to help herself.
His left eye twitched slightly and she knew then that her comment had stung him. Mission accomplished. He wasn’t as amused as her. He twisted her arm around and used his hand on the back of her head to force her down to the ground, grinding a knee between her shoulder blades. “Just remember who actually holds the power now,” he growled close to her ear. “Without your magic, you are nothing.”
“That’s enough, Bertrand.” Deliah’s voice cut through the air like a sharp knife.
Bertrand immediately eased up, but Claire found it hard to completely relax at the sound of Deliah’s voice. Claire turned over on the ground and glared up at Bertrand. He frightened her. His hatred for her was dangerous, and the only thing standing in his way was a woman who seemed to care for her little more than he did.
Claire looked up at the woman in question. It was hard to believe that such a cruel man could be intimidated by an unassuming looking woman like her. Dressed in an off-white dress with her hair in a loose bun, she looked more like a kind aunt than a prominent member of the Ophiuchus Syndicate. A young boy of about eight or nine years of age hid halfway behind her. He was obviously not related to her, with his mop of dark curls, olive skin, and distinctly almond-shaped eyes, and it only took a glance down to his right hand to know what she was doing with the boy. The dark mark was stark against his skin, clean lines and sharp angles, similar to Razi’s. Claire wondered briefly what region the Syndicate had snatched him away from.
“I believe you are needed elsewhere,” Deliah said to Bertrand, her voice even, but there was no mistaking it as anything other than a command.
“Yes, milady,” Bertrand yielded, but he didn’t look happy about it. He turned and stormed out of the courtyard, taking Claire’s pendant with him. Did he have her blades as well? If he did, she would probably never see them again.
Deliah gave her a soothing smile, but Claire knew better. “Claire, I’d like you to meet Lin. He is like you, as I’m sure you’ve noticed by now.”
The young boy gripped the skirt of Deliah’s dress hard in his hands as he peered meekly around her. There was pity in his eyes, and understanding, from one caged animal to another. He was probably frightened of her, this place, of what he was, yet it was probably all he knew. Deliah was to him what Marion was to Claire, perhaps the only mother he’d ever known.
Claire just stared back wordlessly, trying her best to hide the shiver that ran through her. Was he a product of the Syndicate? Was this what she would have turned into if she’d grown up within these walls? She glanced down at his right hand again and noticed a glint of silver peeking out from under his sleeve.
Deliah chuckled, “Forgive him. He is a little shy of new guests.”
“There is a difference between shy and scared,” she said, finally rising to her feet. “But I suppose you wouldn’t know that, would you?”
Deliah just smiled at Claire, but she could see the snake rear its head again behind her green eyes. “Lin, I’m sure you have studies to attend to,” she said without taking her attention off Claire.
He obeyed without question and left, looking at her one more time over his shoulder before disappearing into one of the halls leading into the fortress.
“Claire, join me for some tea.” It wasn’t a question or an invitation, it was an order. And Claire had no choice but to follow it.
Claire lagged behind Deliah as she followed her up the steps into a dim room, not knowing what the woman wanted or what she was going to do to her, but knowing for certain she had no say in the matter. Like in the rest of the place, the table was low with silk cushions surrounding it, serving as chairs. A heady, sweet incense filled the air. Deliah sat first, making the move look rather elegant, something Claire hadn’t grasped yet. Claire sat adjacent to the woman, plopping down on the cushion harder than she had planned.
“That could have been you, you know,” Deliah said, a slight smile on her face. “Safe, happy… compliant.”
Another shiver went down Claire’s spine at the thought of it.
Lanterns and candles burned around the room, casting dancing shadows on Deliah’s face, making her even more ominous. Two servants entered then, young women she’d seen scurrying about the place before, always with their heads down, hardly ever speaking a word. One carried a steaming teapot, the other cups, and small porcelain containers. They set the teapot and cups down and bowed low.
“Thank you,” Deliah said, so kind and warm Claire nearly believed it. With that, the two girls left as quickly as they had come. Deliah poured a caramel colored tea into both cups. “I was going to take you in the beginning,” she said as she slid a cup closer to Claire. “But then Marion offered. I thought it was too soon after… well, that’s not really my story to tell. We used to be good friends, her and I, until she betrayed the order for her love of you. I knew she would get attached, but I underestimated how much, that she would actually think of you as a daughter.”
“Do you have no attachment to that boy?” Claire asked, but felt she already knew the answer. From what she had experienced the past few days, he was as much a prisoner as she was— a treasure, or as Bertrand had put it, a weapon that needed to be hidden away.
Deliah looked thoughtful. “I suppose I do.”
The answer surprised Claire in a way. She had expected a cold denial.
“I care for him, certainly, but I do not love him. I know better than that. He is merely a charge under my protection. The same as you are now. I teach him and train him and care for him, but he is not my son. I know what he is, and I know what that means.”
Claire could feel the anger building inside of her, the heavy smell of the incense started to make her head hurt. The woman acted as if she were doing them a favor by keeping them here. “I did not ask for any of this, and neither did he,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice even. She gripped the skirt of her dress hard in her hands. “We should be free to choose how to live our lives, just as you have, or anyone. Not to have our entire lives dictated for us from the moment we are born. That’s what Marion’s betrayal gave me. My freedom.”
Deliah laughed. “Tell me, where exactly has that freedom gotten you? How free were you, really? As I recall, you have been in someone’s possession ever since your mother sent you away. You only had the illusion of freedom, my dear. All of your life, you have never been free. Your mother, as you call her, was an agent of the Syndicate, don’t you forget that. Agents surrounded you, checked up on you, watched you. On every leg of your journey. You were never free, and you will never be free. You are far too dangerous to be.”
The comment stung her down to her core. It was the truth. Each cage had been different, but in the end, they were all the same. Still a cage, whether the bars were gilded, or wooden, or wrapped up in the illusion of companionship.
“Tell me, dear, sweet Claire, would you rather have the elves use you? The handsome General and his newly crowned king try to use you to conquer the known world? Or would you rather live in a palace full of wolves and ravens?”
“It’s better than a fortress full of snakes.” In truth, none was better than the other, but she didn’t want Deliah to have the satisfaction.
Deliah laughed again. “No one asks for anything, yet we all have to live with the fates we were born with. You may grieve over a lost freedom, but what have you really lost? We are the ones who have given you a home; we have protected you. We do not wish to use you.”
“And you have done all of this out of the goodness in your hearts?”
“Of course we have. All that we have done concerning the Star Children is for the greater good. You’ve heard what the world was like before the Great War. There is finally a balance of power and peace. Or at least there was until knowledge of the Star Children and their power was discovered and spr
ead.” She gave Claire a pointed look as she sipped her tea. “You have the power to tip the scales in favor of whoever possesses you.”
A flash of silver caught her eye around Deliah’s wrist. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was a snake bracelet similar to her mother’s. A symbol of the Syndicate. Claire realized then that she’d never gotten the thing back from the elf, but now she wasn’t really sure she wanted it after all. She averted her eyes to the cooling tea in front of her. Her head spun slightly, and she found it harder to concentrate, words spilling out of her mouth a little too easily. Anger was getting the better of her. If she didn’t watch herself, she could end up telling the woman something she shouldn’t know.
“And you’ve never been tempted to use this power for yourselves?” Claire asked.
“If we had, we would have already conquered the world.”
A noble sentiment for such a shady organization. But there were bigger issues brewing. “Does it not bother you then that the land is dying and that the Great Beasts have begun to break through their magic seals to ravage the very people you claim to protect? Without magic, everything you have fought for will cease to exist.”
Deliah smiled. “You wish to restore magic to the land. Or is that what your king wishes? Is that what he told you?”
Claire shook her head, confusion setting in. Had she told her that? Or was it a lucky guess? She would have said there was something in the tea, but she hadn’t drunk any. And even if there was, Deliah wouldn’t be drinking it. “He is not my king,” was the only coherent thought she latched onto. She slid the teacup away from her, feeling suddenly nauseous.
“Regardless, I’m sure the king filled your innocent little head with sweet lies.” Deliah fixed Claire with an intense stare. “Could restoring magic to the land end the blight that spreads through his kingdom? Perhaps. But don’t think for a second there isn’t a hidden agenda attached. He’s been trying to hunt our Star Children for years, even going so far as to infiltrate our ranks to do so. And I suppose you are part of his latest scheme. What did he promise you if you worked for him?”