by E. L. Todd
They crossed the bridge and entered the Vast. As they walked between the buildings and passed other guildsmen, Accacia was astounded by the number of members within the society. They were large enough to create a realm of their own. She observed weapon and potion shops, herbal remedies stores, food storages and even a brothel. It was no different from any other city, except there was no livestock.
They entered a wooden building to the left and were greeted by the dancing flames of the stone hearth. The pile of logs glowed red and smoldered with heat as the flames licked the wood to ashes. The fire hissed and popped as it devoured the carcass of the tree. A man sat at a desk facing the fire. His features were displayed with both light and shadow as he smoked his pipe and read a weathered sheet of parchment.
“Yes?” he said without removing his gaze.
Pons shoved Accacia and Aleco into the room. “I have two more prisoners for you to ignore.”
“We have no room,” he said as he read another sheet. “All cells are booked.” Smoke continued to escape from his pipe as he breathed in the haze. Pons glared at the jailer, hatred evident in his stare. The man ignored his scrutiny and continued to smoke his pipe.
“Then I suggest you make room,” Pons hissed.
Smoke billowed from the jailer’s pipe. “There is no room to be made.” He read another page. “I suggest you make other arrangements.”
Pons released his hold on the prisoners and approached the desk. He placed each of his palms on the surface of the wood and stared directly at the man who continued to ignore his attempt at intimidation. The jailer’s eyes remained glued to his paper while smoke floated to the ceiling. Pons grabbed the pipe from the jailer’s lips and threw it into the fire to be immediately consumed by flames. Then, he forced his unsheathed dagger between the man’s parted lips and pressed the blade into the corners of his mouth until blood trickled down his chin. Accacia screamed at the sight. The bleeding jailer reached for Pons’s hands, but he was too weak to push the blade away. The jailer moaned as he fought for his release, but Pons forced the blade deeper into his skin with every move he made to resist.
“Stop this,” Accacia screamed. “Stop this now, I beg you!”
Pons sliced his skin. The jailer’s earlier look of indifference had disappeared. His forehead was covered in sweat and it dripped into his open cuts, burning and heightening the already unbearable pain. He grunted in panic as he tried to pull Pons’s hand away from his wounded mouth. Tears poured down Accacia’s face as she watched. Aleco begged her to look away.
Accacia couldn’t stand the sight a moment longer. She dashed across the room and threw her body against Pons. The guards were too stunned by her movements to intervene. Pons crashed to the floor and dropped his blade. It banged against the wooden floorboards and Accacia kicked it out of his reach. She brought a towel to the jailer. He looked at her in adoration as he accepted the cloth gratefully, until she was dragged away by the guildsmen.
Aleco cursed Accacia and her stupidity. Pons would never let this behavior go unpunished. Pons grabbed his knife from the floorboards and marched to Accacia. His chest heaved with deep breaths as he tried to control his anger. His hands dripped with blood that covered both the blade and the hilt. He grabbed Accacia by the throat. “I’m going to gut you like a fish,” he whispered.
His threat angered Aleco. He shoved the guards aside and placed himself between Pons and Accacia. Aleco stared at Pons. “Back off,” he warned, hiding Accacia’s form from view with his own.
Pons smiled at him. Aleco’s watchdog behavior was amusing to him. “I was going to give her a memorable beating until you gave me a better idea,” he said. “I know something that will cause her much more pain.” Aleco didn’t know what he was referring to.
Pons slugged him in the stomach and Aleco felt the air leave his lungs. He didn’t have enough time to process what happened before he was punched in the gut again, and he hunched over in pain. He flexed the muscles of stomach but it failed to diminish the agony.
“Stop,” Accacia yelled.
Pons hit him again, and Aleco shouted in anger. He threw his shoulder into Pons’s chest and knocked him to the floor. Aleco pressed the bottom of his boot against his throat, restricting his airflow just as Pons did to Accacia, and spit on his face. The guards pulled him off and held him in place until Pons got on his feet. Pons wiped the saliva from his cheek with Aleco’s cloak. “She’s more concerned with the safety of others than herself,” he said. He pressed his face close to Aleco’s. “Now I know her weakness.”
Pons struck Aleco in the face with his fist, over and over again, until it was bleeding from every opening. Pons didn’t need to pull down Aleco’s hood to know he was hitting his mark. Blood trickled from the corners of his eyes, seeped from his nose, and dripped from his mouth onto the floor. Pons grinned at the sight. Now the man would be even more hideous than he already was. Aleco remained mute during the beating because he didn’t want Accacia to know how painful it really was. Pons bashed his ribcage, slamming his fists into his ribs, bruising both the skin and bone. Aleco focused on one positive thought. At least he received the beating, not Accacia.
Aleco’s mind floated in and out of consciousness. The last thing he remembered was falling to the hardwood floor before the blackness took him. Tears streamed down Accacia’s face as she saw him hit the ground. She regretted what she had done, and sobbed to herself.
Pons addressed the jailer. “Now do you have room?”
The jailer walked down the hallway with the cloth pressed to his mouth. He returned a moment later and pointed to the nearest cell. “They will both have to bunk in there,” he said through his soaked cloth. “I already paired together two other inmates to make this cell available.”
Pons smiled at the jailer. “Thank you, Robinson.”
The men walked Accacia into the cell and untied her bonds. They dragged Aleco’s body into the cage, dropped him on the straw-covered floor, and then cut his restraints. They shut the metal door and locked the cage. “We’ll return tomorrow, Accacia. Then, we’ll decide what to do with you.” Pons looked down at the floor. “And we’ll kill this traitor.”
Accacia gasped at his words. She heard their departing laughter as they walked down the hallway and left the prison. She fell to the floor and gathered Aleco in her arms. She placed his head in her lap and pressed her face against his; her tears splashed onto his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Aleco,” she whispered as she squeezed his body. “I’m so sorry.”
She couldn’t stand the sight of his affliction. The skin of his face was soaked with blood and dripped from every opening. His bruises were already swelling and turning deeper shades of purple. She had no one to blame but herself. She had done this to him. She sobbed into his body and clutched him tightly to her chest as she rocked him back and forth. “I’m sorry.”
She wanted to help him but she didn’t know what she could do. She thought of the herbal remedies she could use to ease the pain and promote healing, but she had no access to those plants. There was only one remedy in her possession.
She grabbed the necklace around her throat. The Rhine Remedy was used for internal injuries, but plants can serve multiple purposes if used in a different way. Accacia rose to her feet and walked to the bars. “Excuse me?” she yelled down the hall. There was no response. She yelled again, “Please help me, sir.”
The only reply she heard was her own echo down the hallway. She was about to turn away when she heard footsteps approaching. The cloth was still pressed to his mouth when he reached the bars of the cage. Robinson said nothing as he stood before her. His rag was soaked in blood, only the corners of the cloth were still white and untainted. Accacia’s heart squeezed at the sight. “I’m sorry about what happened to you,” she said as she stared at the bloody rag. His eyes softened at her empathy but Robinson remained silent. He continued to stare at her. “Can you do me a favor?” Accacia asked.
The jailer nodded.
“Could y
ou fetch me a pail of warm water and a few cloths?” She looked back at Aleco. “My friend needs help.” The jailer walked away and returned with the water and towels. He left them outside the cell since Accacia could reach through the bars. She grabbed what she needed as the man walked away. “Wait,” she said to him.
He turned around and watched her open the capsule around her neck. She sprinkled a few pinches of the shredded plants into the pail. The water turned a pale green and smelled like mint. She drenched a towel in the bucket, then squeezed the excess water from the cloth and handed it to Robinson. “Place this on your cut. It will ease the pain.”
The man did as she instructed. She watched the anxious lines around his face relax. The treatment was working. He grasped her hand through the bar. “Thank you,” he mumbled.
She smiled. “You’re welcome.”
The man shuffled down the hallway to his desk, and Accacia returned to Aleco. She pressed the warm towel to his face, and was pleased to see the swelling decrease and the bruises lighten. She hoped it eased his pain as well. He occasionally moaned while he slept, but his groans stopped when Accacia ran her fingers through his hair. When Aleco ceased to stir, Accacia tended to her own needs. She wiped the blood from her face and neck then administered the remedy to her own cuts and bruises.
Accacia curled up beside Aleco and wrapped her arms around him while they slept. However, Accacia found no reprieve in sleep. Nightmares of Aleco dying continually scared her into consciousness. She would reassess him to verify he was still alive, checking his injuries, applying more medicine, and monitoring his breathing and heartbeat. The sound of her name stirred her from another attempt at sleep.
“Accacia,” he moaned. Aleco’s eyes were still closed, but she knew he was awake. “Accacia?” he repeated.
She touched his face with her palm. “I’m here,” she whispered.
Aleco reached his arms across and felt her waist. He grabbed her torso and pulled her closer to him. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
“No.”
Aleco finally opened his eyes and took a moment to focus. He saw Accacia’s face next to his and the anxiety on his face diminished. “Where are we?” he asked.
“They locked us in a cell,” she said. “Pons said he would deal with us later today.”
Aleco groaned. “I was hoping this was a dream,” he said. “Or I was in the afterlife because I died.”
“Why would you assume you would be in the afterlife?” she teased.
Aleco laughed.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Not as bad as I thought I would,” he said.
“I’m glad.”
“Did you tend to me?”
“Of course.” She smiled.
“Good.”
She dropped her smile and tears fell from her eyes. Aleco knew what she was thinking. “Aleco, I’m so—”
He kissed her.
It was so unexpected that she didn’t react when his lips touched hers. His lips lingered on hers for a moment before he pulled her face closer and deepened his kiss. She closed her eyes and responded by feeling his lips with her own. She ran her fingers through his hair and slipped her tongue into his mouth. Aleco groaned with pleasure at her intensity. Suddenly, Accacia realized what she was doing and pulled away.
Aleco sighed to himself, knowing he had made another mistake. Their friendship was falling apart with his every mishap. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. Since I’m going to die today, I thought now was the best time.”
She looked away from him, still processing what just happened. Accacia hadn’t expected such affection, nor did she understand why it occurred. She was certain he held no attraction to her; he even said it. Accacia realized he was lying. She never thought Aleco had feelings for her other than friendship, if that. He seemed so angry towards her most of the time. Accacia was confused by his actions. When his lips touched hers, she just responded, knowing it was happening, but unable to do anything to stop it. She was just so relieved that Aleco was going to survive that in the heat of the moment, her emotions carried her away and she let him kiss her. Accacia didn’t understand what came over her. Accacia knew how frightened Aleco was, even if he didn’t show his distress. She pitied him because she knew he would be killed and she would live. “We’re going to get out of here, Aleco,” she whispered.
“No,” he countered. “You are going to get out of here.”
Accacia rose to her feet. Aleco fought against the pain of his bruised ribs and sat up, grabbing her by the hand. “Please don’t leave. I apologize for kissing you, and I won’t do it again. I feel better when you are next to me.” Her gaze was still elsewhere, unable to look at him. Not only were the bruises and cuts on his face painful to see, but she felt responsible for them. She had never heard him ask for any comfort and was surprised by the need in his voice. “Please?” he asked her. The desperation in his voice surprised even him. He had never been so raw with his emotions, or showed any, in fact.
Accacia watched his face for a moment and decided to honor his request. She lay down beside him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. He was thankful she didn’t object to this gesture. Accacia stared into his broken face and noticed the pink tint of his natural skin was replaced by a purple background. His bruises blended together to form a mask. “I’m so sorry, Aleco.”
“You did nothing wrong, Accacia,” he said. “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
“You don’t mean that,” she said.
“I would do anything to protect you. You don’t deserve any kind of pain.”
She closed her eyes. “I’m still sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
Voices of the guards echoed down the hallway and interrupted their moment. Accacia scrambled to her feet and Aleco sat up and leaned against the bars. The guildsmen were accompanied by the jailer who carried a ring of keys. The guard opened the metal door. “It’s your time to shine, Aleco,” the guard said.
Accacia’s heart burst from her chest at his words. They were going to kill him and she couldn’t stop it. It was her fault that he was there to begin with. Instead of sacrificing herself to protect him, she had gotten them both captured. Aleco would be executed and she would be returned to Drake. Aleco grabbed the bars and hoisted his broken body up, rising slowly to his feet. Accacia watched him in despair, wishing this wasn’t happening. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him, wanting to comfort him in any way she could. He returned her embrace and kissed her on the forehead. Accacia was surprised by his gentle touch. He smiled as he held her, happy that she was in his arms. Aleco never before had feelings like the ones he sensed course through his body to his heart. He was glad he got to experience them once before he died. He let himself smell the scent of her hair and feel her body against his. He also enjoyed the sound of her tears; she was crying for him.
The guildsman was growing tired of the scene, waiting for the lovers to end their moment of goodbye. “Come on,” the guard said. “Let’s get this over with.”
Accacia cried into Aleco’s chest, and he squeezed her tightly, wanting to comfort her in her obvious despair. She looked up into his smiling face. “Don’t worry about me,” he said. He kissed her on the forehead again. Accacia noticed his smile never faltered, just as his mother’s never did in her last moments. She couldn’t believe how calm he was. He kissed her on the lips and his heart raced as he touched her mouth with his own. He didn’t expect her to return the embrace, but he wanted to kiss her one last time. To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck and returned his affection, moving her lips against his own. As she pulled his face to her own, his heart enlarged and thawed from its iced block of pain. He wished he didn’t have to leave her. He finally had something to live for.
The guard was tired of the scene. “Enough of this,” he said. “Grab him!”
The men pulled Aleco away from Accacia’s grasp. She squeezed his hand until they yanke
d him out of the cell. Aleco kept his eyes glued to Accacia’s as they pulled him away, a slight smile on his lips. They turned the corner and he was gone.
Chamber of the Vast
18
Burning torches illuminated the dirt-paved road that led to the stone tower erected in the rear of the Vast. The tall structure was obscured in shadow except for the pinnacle, which was displayed in sunlight coming from holes in the ceiling. As they marched closer to the entrance, Aleco studied the structure. He had visited the edifice many times and been in the presence of the Chief, but never as an enemy—until now. Aleco’s arms were restricted by two men. They never eased their hold as they progressed forward. They were familiar with Aleco’s abilities.
They passed the wooden huts where guildsmen resided. The men who labored in the shops or served in the Chamber lived within the Vast, close to work. Other members lived in rooms within the tunnels inside the earth. The shop owners were never concerned that thieves would rob their stores or steal their gold because of one simple reason: thievery between Brothers was not tolerated. Perpetrators were punished by Chasm Death, a ceremony where convicted criminals were pushed into the chasm, falling to their violent deaths in the hidden rocks below. Aleco estimated two hundred skeletons were scattered in the dark crevasse.
Men who survived the fall were stuck on the sharp stones with every bone in their body broken and shattered, unable to move. Even days after the ceremony, they could still be laying there helpless and weak, incapable of concentrating on anything but the excruciating pain. Aleco heard their faint screams as he walked across the bridge. If their necks weren’t broken or their skulls were intact, they would perish from the loss of blood or lack of water, food, and heat. If they were even less fortunate, the snakes of the chasm would squeeze their bodies until they suffocated, feeding on their carcasses. Either way, they passed from this life alone, without a single comfort, as they listened to the last thumps of their beating heart while choking on blood that flooded their mouth. The guildsmen feared this aspect of the punishment more than the death itself.
