by Tom Hansen
Ynya passed into the hole and he tossed two skins of water in behind her. “Stay silent, and I’ll come get you when it’s safe. I will check on you in the morning. I’ll knock on my footlocker twice as I’m getting dressed. I need you to wait until everyone else has left, then knock or scrape so I know you’re still there.”
She nodded.
In one swift motion, he slid the footlocker in front of the cutout, leaving a small gap for air, and she was sealed up once again.
Ynya sat for a moment against the wall. Her heart beat in her chest at everything that had just happened in the last five minutes.
She still didn’t know where she was exactly, or where Synol and Finny were, or how they were doing. She had no plan on how she was going to get them out. She knew very little about her mysterious rescuer.
But she had food, and she had a friend. It would have to be good enough.
As the rest of the soldiers entered into their barracks and began to strip down and change, she munched on an apple.
Ynya listened to them complain about the Warden, complain about the tireless work, and complain that there were four prisoners still missing.
Four?
She wondered who the others were.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“2201. It’s good to have you back. I hope you learned the importance of obeying and not unleashing your magic unless given express orders?”
The Translator wasn’t happy with her. None of the administration at the facility were happy with her. She had caused a lot of destruction.
But it wasn’t 2201. It was the other, the voice inside her.
Finny.
Finny gave the order. Despite weeks of training to learn how to obey, 2201 wasn’t able to resist when Finny took over. Finny knew words that weakened 2201.
Words like ‘Ynya’ or ‘Synol’.
She even used a new word; ‘Meki’. That was the word that allowed Finny to take over the last time, when she destroyed so much of the camp. It was the word 2201 needed to learn to resist.
The Warden insisted that she ignore the voice.
The Translator had argued with the Warden for some time, but the Warden threatened to contact to the Frost Queen. The Translator had relented and agreed to three days of additional training.
Now she was back, and the Translator was angry.
“I learned to ignore the other voice in my head. I have blocked her entirely.”
“That is good.” He stepped around her with a small glow orb, shining it into her eyes. “That is very good. I am glad that you have finally learned obedience, 2201. I can’t have any more outbursts like the last two times. You nearly destroyed everything we’ve been working so hard on. Luckily, I learned long ago to keep copies of my work at another location just in case this happened again.”
She didn’t reply. Replying only made things worse. Unless they asked specific questions, she was better served to listen and agree.
“Well, what’s done is done. Despite our setbacks, I think that your little tantrum gave me some much-needed information regarding our serums. I see now that my dosage is simply too strong. Your body might be able to handle them, but the pain, even with your Enlightenment training, is simply too much for you to bear. Your untrained, weak mind reverts. We can’t have that again. There is too much riding on this. I’m too close to lose.”
He poked her arm, watching her skin spring back. He moved farther up, poking, watching, and grunting approvals.
Finally, he got to her eyes again, and alternated shining lights in them while observing.
“We need to try a slower method. Since your latest outburst killed my last two assistants, I will need some time to train up someone new. For now, I think I can handle all of this by myself.”
He grabbed some bands and stretched them out a few times.
“The plan now is to inject you with a less-concentrated serum. This will allow me to monitor your dosage much more closely. If I feel the restraints can hold, I’ll increase, but if you start reverting, then I will back off.”
He grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. “2201, I have to warn you that another outburst like any you have shown in the past will not be pleasant for you. You have to believe me when I say this. You were slated for something quite different before I managed to intercede on your behalf. There were two of you redheads who arrived on the same day and for some reason the jackasses flagged you both for immediate disposal by Her Majesty’s personal guard. Can you believe that?”
He huffed, stretching the strap across her body and latching it onto a hook on the other side.
“This isn’t the first time they have mishandled lucrative subjects here at this place, but you are lucky I snagged you when I did. The alternative wouldn’t have been pleasant.
“Now, we all know what that really means. It means that She wanted you two for her personal pets, to do whatever experiments she’s doing in the Skarfanes, but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity. To squander such raw power is practically blasphemous, I tell you. She keeps giving me the simpletons, the weak-minded that buckle too easy, and that just won’t do for what I have planned. So, I switched your records and said you were still being processed. I sent someone else in your stead. I wanted to grab your sister, but alas, I was only able to find one other redhead in the entire compound to replace, so you were it.”
He grunted while he tugged on the strap, pulling it taut against her skin.
“So you have to understand, I have a very small window here to prove to Her that my experiments are worth the time investment. And I dare say, you will be well worth it when I’m able to finally finish my life’s work. She would have just used you for a little while before disposing of you anyway. I say that’s a waste of raw talent.”
He pulled another needle from atop a desk and slid it into her arm. “I have five of these serums to get through, so we are going to take these nice and slow. This of course means you cannot move and I can’t give you any food or water.”
He grabbed a jar swirling with green liquid and attached the hose from that to the needle in her arm. “So 2201, are you ready to prove to Her that my experiments are worth the time? Together, we’re going to make history.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
As much as Ynya needed the food and water that Thore left her, she drank both skins too fast. The last few hours had been a trial in patience and slow breathing so she didn’t pee herself.
While the soldiers slept on the other side of the wall, she considered sneaking out and attempting a run at the bathroom alone. But the two times she had convinced herself to do it, she heard footsteps in the hallway. After that, she distracted her mind by paying attention to the rhythm of the soldiers. Someone had restored the bells, which allowed Ynya to keep track of time.
A guard roamed the halls every half hour, day or night in the barracks. Ynya supposed that even brainwashed soldiers weren’t trusted enough to ensure their own safety, and a secondary sentry was sent through to make sure things were on the up and up.
Or maybe it’s just to make sure none of the soldiers are up when they’re supposed to be sleeping.
The soldiers slept six hours, followed by half an hour to wake up, change, relieve themselves, eat, and head back out for work duty.
From eavesdropping on their conversations, she learned they were also given an hour and a half after work to swing by the cantina for their ration of vodka for the night, and a little bit of time to socialize.
That meant they worked for sixteen hours straight with eight off for sleep and other functions.
Ynya also figured out that a block of rooms were all on the same schedule, and one group started their shift a bit before the block she was in, while another block farther down the building started later.
They must stagger their shifts by an hour so as to not overwhelm the kitchen, cantina, or washrooms, while still keeping most workers out moving rubble during the daylight hours. It’s smart, if a little regimented. Synol wo
uld love it.
But regimented meant she would be able to time things perfectly if she needed.
“Ynya?”
“Thore?”
Their last communication had been nearly sixteen hours ago when he left for his shift. Two knocks followed her reply.
She hustled out of the confined space between the walls and hit the bathroom as fast as she could.
As much as she appreciated Thore’s hiding her, Ynya needed to know more about her new supposed friend. She decided to query him while she was on the commode.
“I need to ask you some questions.”
“What about?”
“Like who you are, and why you’re helping me.”
There was a pause before Thore spoke. “Do you have to ask this now, while you’re…there?”
“Yes,” Ynya growled back through the wooden door, “because we only have five minutes every day together, I want to make sure I know who is helping me. I also don’t want to waste my life hiding out in a wall. I need to find my sisters and get out of here.”
He sighed. “That’s understandable. What questions?”
“Where did you find me?”
“You were lying unconscious just outside the barracks when I came running out after the storm.”
“Why did you hide me?”
“I recognized you because of your hair.”
She wasn’t expecting this reply. “Why would you know anything about my hair?”
“Because your sister had the same hair.”
“Sister? Which one?”
He shuffled his feet. “I don’t know her name, but two red-haired girls came in about a month ago. The Warden made a big deal of it back then, made us all clean the entire camp because the Frost Queen was sending in some of her personal guards to test and collect these two.”
“So you saw them come in?”
“Yeah, I was performing door duty that day. I remember the look in their eyes. They were very scared. I felt bad, but what can you do? There aren’t many of us who are sympathetic to the prisoners. Most of the guards are brainwashed pretty well by the Warden, but a few of us help out where we can.”
“By hiding us? What is the plan now?”
Ynya heard Thore swallow. “Hurry up, we need to get you hidden again.”
With that, he stepped away from the door.
Ynya’s rage began to build, but instead of tamping it down, she let it bubble to the surface. He was hiding something, but she didn’t know what. As much as she appreciated his help, she didn’t like being lied to, and right now, he was avoiding answering something. She didn’t know what, she didn’t know why, but she was going to find out.
Ynya took the bag of food and water skins from him without a word.
Before Thore put the footlocker back, however, he paused, lying on the ground and looking at her. “Look, I know you’re scared and worried, but things are going to take time. After that storm, there are guards swarming everywhere, patrolling every inch of this place on a regular schedule. I can’t take you anywhere but here right now. Maybe in a month, once they give up looking, I might be able to move you to a safer location, but right now, it’s just too risky.”
He slid the locker halfway, then said, “I’m sorry, Ynya. I will get you out, but you’re going to have to be patient.”
She was plunged into darkness once again.
Ynya sat there against the wall while Thore’s bunkmates came in and the four chatted about the day’s events. They prattled on about nothing for half an hour until another guard came by to tell them to get to sleep.
The rage she’d built up over their conversation never faded. It simmered, right below the surface.
She pulled out the knife she’d managed to grab off Thore’s belt right as she crouched down to go into the wall.
It was incredibly sharp, a fact she verified by poking the top of her finger.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Despite being on her own, depending on someone bringing her food and water, Ynya wasn’t entirely helpless.
She had a knife, and a purpose.
She also had the knowledge that the soldiers here moved to an extremely regimented schedule; a schedule she was going to exploit.
Ynya surmised that if the solder’s time was this regimented, other parts of their lives were, too.
Her first step was to probe another wall opposite the spot where Thore’s footlocker was located.
She waited until Thore and all his companions fell asleep, but before the soldiers on the other side came back.
Using the knife, she carved away at the back of the plaster, chipping it off a bit at a time. She was very careful not to raise the volume of her scraping above that of a mouse in the walls.
That’s all I am, a secret mouse, who can’t risk getting caught.
If fate needed her to be a mouse, she would be a mouse.
She made a single hole through the plaster, just big enough to poke the edge of the knife through.
Sure enough, after about half an inch through the air, the tip of the knife hit something wood and metal.
Footlocker.
Thank the God’s Above and the Warden’s insistence on being organized.
Ynya created three more holes, checking each carefully to ensure they were well-inside the area covered by the locker. After verifying the size, she severed the lines connecting each hole. Before she knew it, she had a cutout for a hole hanging on with just a few pieces of wood and plaster.
She had another exit from her prison.
Ynya ate while the second shift of soldiers bumped around inside the room and prepared for bed. She paid attention to the things they talked about, trying to glean any information she could from their conversation.
These particular soldiers were apparently rebuilding some walls in the Pit, and spent their day replanting posts and stretching fence line while another group of soldiers corralled the prisoners to a small section of the Pit.
The last part made Ynya hopeful. If all the prisoners were confined to a certain section of the Pit, that must mean there was extensive damage done to the structure. Extensive damage meant she would have a much easier time escaping through holes in fences.
She hoped that if everyone was so focused on rebuilding, then they wouldn’t be focused on torturing.
It also meant she couldn’t waste so much time anymore, because at the rate they repaired the compound, she wouldn’t have much time to escape.
Escape.
The word was almost foreign to her, even though she’d only been in Reyoarfjell for a few days.
At least she hoped it had only been a few days.
The Warden’s unique Enlightenment sessions had done a good job of preventing her from keeping track of the passage of time.
No time.
Ynya pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. That bastard had enjoyed toying with her. It was time for a payback. She would enjoy getting her magic back and giving him a lesson in how to cause pain.
If I get my magic back. It had been so long since she had it that she was beginning to wonder how it would be to have the power coursing through her chest once again. It terrified her to think that she was starting to get used to not having her heat anymore.
What is happening to me?
Ynya napped once the second shift soldiers went to sleep, mostly because she didn’t want to risk scraping plaster and cutting wood while a soldier slept inches away. It was too risky. She might have one shot at escaping. She couldn’t make a single mistake.
Shortly after the solders woke and prepared for their day, Ynya took the opportunity to do some exploration.
Given the patrol’s thirty-minute schedule, she gave herself twenty minutes to look through as many rooms as she could.
Ynya pushed the footlocker away from the wall. She winced with every scrape against the stone floor.
Once it was pushed far enough, she shimmied out, listening every few seconds for the tell-tale sound of feet.
She repeated the action to move the footlocker back in front of the hole. She would hate for anyone to come around the corner and see the locker out, then discover the hole.
Once they knew people were hiding, all the walls in the entire barracks would come down. Ynya didn’t doubt for a second that the Warden would tear down his own soldier’s homes in order to find missing prisoners. He would make everyone in his employ sleep in the cold if it meant she was found.
Ynya knew the risk she took, but she couldn’t sit around all day doing nothing. She needed to move, she needed to feel like she was getting closer to finding her sisters and escaping.
She rummaged around in nine footlockers before hearing the methodical steps of the sentry.
Right on time.
Rather than run back to the safety of her wall, she climbed inside one of the lockers and waited. It was a little cramped, but she was small enough that it was an easy hiding place.
The soldier did his duty as expected. After a few dozen footsteps, pauses at each doorway, and a small sneezing fit, the soldier marched to the next hallway.
Thore’s wing housed six rooms, with four soldiers per room. Ynya peeked her head out of the wing to find a long, spacious hallway running the length of whichever barracks she was in.
She stood in roughly the middle of the barracks, with three wings splitting off to one side, most likely the north, and four toward the south.
Given the stone floor below her, she surmised that she had to be on the ground floor. She had heard the clomp of the roaming soldier’s boots above her, so there had to be a second floor.
Ynya reviewed the overall layout of the camp in her mind. The soldier barracks were on the east side of the camp, meaning this building was probably the building she’d first seen to the east when she and Synol had come into the camp at the southern entrance.
That meant this building was close to an exit. The two stories meant it was also close to the height of the fence that ran along the outside perimeter.
