by Tom Hansen
That was nothing compared the destruction Synol did when she buried an entire camp of soldiers.
And that was nothing, still, compared to the terrifying winds Finny conjured.
A chill ran up Ynya’s spine at the memory of that night. She couldn’t shake the dead-eyed stare her sister gave when they last looked at each other.
That hadn’t been Finny controlling that cyclone. That had been someone else.
Or something else.
What did they do to you, Finny?
Ynya didn’t want to know.
As Ynya approached the far side of the Pit, where all the prisoners huddled, she tried to make out her sister’s red hair. Half a dozen prisoners saw her walking past and pled with her to give them more food, water, or blankets.
She wanted to go to them and give them everything she could, but she was alone out here in a stolen guard’s uniform. She had nothing on her to give. Ynya forced her gaze from the prisoners and looked forward, hiding her shame.
As she walked, the prisoners’ pleas continued. Their cries roused a handful of guards on the wall and at their posts who straightened up. One yelled back at the prisoners to be quiet.
With each step, Ynya remembered her earlier conversation with Thore. She told him that she would do whatever it took to get her sister back. But now, walking past all these prisoners, in the dead of night, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at them.
She realized now what a knife’s edge he walked.
If she pulled down her hood and exposed herself to those prisoners, their shouts, even of joy, would bring the guards. They would capture and torture her once again.
The would find Tyrain and Aelin.
And she didn’t want to think about what they would do to Synol. Or Finny.
I’m sorry, Thore. I get it now.
Ynya made two more rounds throughout the entire encampment, each circuit taking her about half an hour. She spent the next two after that paying attention to the guards. She noted where they all patrolled, and which ones slept at their posts.
Then, she saw him.
Gustave.
He stood in the soldier’s barracks while he donned a coat. Even from halfway across the camp, she recognized his bulky frame and his casual nature.
As soon as she saw him, she wanted to shout and wave. Ynya tamped down the desire burning in her chest to greet him. She quickened her pace, however, because she wanted to make sure he knew his sister was safe.
He spoke a few words to the guard outside the barracks and walked toward the broken bell tower.
The bell tower?
If he was awake, that meant the shifts would soon start, which meant more soldiers.
She needed to talk to him before that happened.
She sped up even more, while sticking to a pace befitting a soldier on the job. She cut across where the Pit used to be, intersecting with him just as he arrived to the bell tower.
“Gustave.” Her voice was hoarse and low, due to the overwhelming fear gripping her body as she approached him.
He looked up and she saw the terrified look in his eyes.
Chapter Thirty-One
Gustave’s eyes widened to the size of cups, and he shook his head slowly.
To his left side, down by his leg, he spun his index finger in a circle, while his eyes gestured three times in the direction of his hand.
Is he telling me to take another lap around the camp?
Ynya nodded, then continued right past him. But she caught the slight hint of a smile.
What was that about?
Twenty paces away from him, she heard the one voice she hadn’t wanted to hear. The one voice that would set all the nerve endings in her young body on edge.
“Gustave, I was wondering when you would join me. You are two minutes late, you know.”
The Warden.
Her stomach lurched as she continued her march around the camp. She hadn’t seen him at all! How could she have not noticed?
Turning the corner, she chanced a quick look back to see the Warden deep in conversation with Gustave. They held a paper between the two of them, and Gustave nodded.
They must be going over today’s schedule.
She swallowed, suddenly very parched. She’d come very close to getting caught. She shouldn’t be so cavalier to announce her presence while walking through a crowd.
Worse yet was the notion that the Warden had been at the bell tower this whole time and she hadn’t noticed him.
What if he had noticed me?
Ynya thought back to the first time she and the Warden crossed paths. He said that she and Synol stood out because they hadn’t used the correct hand signals, thus alerting the soldiers to their presence.
What if all the lazy, sleepy soldiers had been watching her the whole time, knowing exactly who she was? What if they were waiting for her to head back divulge where the other prisoners hid?
The thought terrified Ynya more than anything, so much that her body shook uncontrollably. She struggled to put one foot in front of the other.
Focus, Ynya. Focus like your mother taught you.
She had to maintain her ruse a bit longer, then she could go back to the relative safety of the barracks.
Ynya focused. She pushed out all the negative thoughts and drew her mind into a point. She focused on her feet. One in front of the other. She focused on her breathing. One deep breath. Two deep breaths.
Ynya marched. She was a soldier in the Frost Queen’s army, and she acted like one.
Her paced slowed once again. She needed time to think. She needed time to adjust to this new potential threat.
She passed by the place where she had been taken for her Enlightenments. Ynya tensed as she walked by, not wanting to relive the memories of her torture the last time she was there. She increased her pace a bit.
As she walked by a thought popped into her head.
No wonder I can’t find Synol in the crowd. She must still be in one of the Enlightenment rooms.
Instead of allowing her mind to reel down the path of despair and worry, she used the opportunity to study the prisoners in the Pit again. Ynya scanned over the crowd. There was no red hair, no Joanne, and no one else she recognized.
Another guard walked her direction, pulling the cries for help from the prisoners.
She tensed, just wanting to make it past the guard unseen, but a thought refused to leave her conscious.
Hand signals.
If the solders did use subtle hand signals to communicate with each other, then she would be noticed, if she hadn’t been already.
As the approaching patrol passed by another one of the sleepy guards, she noticed the slight movement of his right hand. It was fast and performed right at the apex of his arm swing. He moved his thumb twice across the inside of his middle and index finger, like he was flicking away something from his thumbnail.
You sneaky bastards.
It was brilliant. Most people wouldn’t even notice it given the cupping of the hand hiding the thumb. Even if they did, many would think it simply a random hand tic. The sleepy guard didn’t do anything different, so the approaching roaming guard performed it once again.
This time, the sleepy standing guard must have noticed the movement because he pursed his lips and replied with his left hand using the same motion.
Seemingly satisfied, the patrolling guard continued.
He passed by one more, but didn’t use the signal.
They must not be using it every time.
Maybe it was more of a spot check to ensure that each soldier was awake and paying attention once or twice a shift, but came in handy as a means to identify anyone who didn’t belong.
That must mean that they began using it after someone else broke into here.
The idea excited Ynya. At some point, someone else had broken into Reyoarfjell and had disrupted things so much that the army had to implement new procedures to rout out any infiltrators.
It was her turn, a
s the patrolling soldier turned in her direction.
They locked eyes for a moment, before she got her gaze squarely on the ground in front of her.
One foot in front of the other, Ynya.
He did the hand signal.
She raised her right hand–
Wrong hand!
She took two more steps.
He performed his hand movement once again. His left hand tensed as it slowly went for the dagger on his belt.
She replied with the same motion from her left, and she kept on moving, one foot in front of the other.
His left hand relaxed and he continued walking past her.
As much as she wanted, Ynya didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to make any more mistakes this morning.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Ynya rounded the corner of the Pit. In the distance, she saw the first hints of the early-morning sun peek over the mountain tops.
The bells chimed, signifying wake up time for the first shift.
Shit!
She’d been out too long. If I head back now I’ll be found out!
Or maybe it was the perfect distraction.
With a few dozen guards waking up and beginning manual labor, it might be the perfect time for her to talk to Gustave, since he wouldn’t chime the bells for another hour. She slowed her approach, surveying the area around the bell tower carefully.
Rubble from the destroyed tower had been cleared away to reveal the three bells. The smaller one had a crack in it but still rang, as it had been re-hung on a wooden post along with its companions. The larger of the three had a huge chunk in the debris a few feet away. They were damaged, but functional.
Most importantly, no Warden.
She checked and double-checked the shadows just inside the doorway of the now decrepit tower.
Can I trust my own eyes when I’d walked past the exact spot at least twice before without seeing him?
Gustave finished his bell ringing and put away his mallets.
It was now or never. She would go in carefully and test before announcing who she was to him.
Ynya glanced at his ordinals as he put away the mallets.
“1811.” She tried to keep her voice as deep and as commanding as possible.
He looked up, a concerned expression on his face.
The expression melted away when their eyes met.
Gustave glanced around before nodding his head toward the side. He stepped behind the broken tower and grabbed some rubble from the ground with massive hands.
Ynya approached him, happy to see a friendly face.
“Stay there,” he warned. His voice was low and strained.
She halted, realization hitting her. It would probably look very bad if a soldier hugged one of the prisoners. She needed to remember her role.
He moved another piece of rubble. “Glad to see you.”
“Likewise. I saw your sister and Tyrain. They are safe.”
He paused, mid-throw, emotion palpable on his strained face. “I’m glad to hear that.”
She glanced around. A couple groggy soldiers took their first steps from the front door of the barracks.
“Have you seen Synol? I didn’t see her in the Pit.”
He cocked his chin toward the north. “The Warden moved her from the Pit to the Enlightenment area recently.”
Ynya tensed, deep-seated worry knotting the muscles in her back. The thought of Synol being alone with that man sickened her to her core.
Her next words were strained, angry, said through gritted teeth. “Which door?”
He frowned. “Second from the left, I believe, but she could be anywhere in that building and it will be swarming with his men.”
She knew where one of her sisters was, at least.
Ynya glanced back at the soldiers coming out of the barracks. She didn’t have much time as they headed this direction to begin their day of hauling away rubble.
Ynya needed to think. She needed space and time. She didn’t have either of those right now.
If she didn’t go back to Tyrain and Aelin, they would have no food for today.
A thought caused her to freeze.
If Thore doesn’t find me there when he wakes for his shift, what will he do? Turn himself in in the hopes that he gets a lesser punishment?
Ynya had less than an hour to get back into that wall. If she headed back now, she could sneak into the room next to Thore’s and be there with plenty of time. She would also be able to grab the supplies she’d left there.
Maybe he would turn me in?
All he had to do was report the discovery of a network of tunnels leading through the barracks. All he had to say was that he noticed something odd this morning when he went to open his footlocker and the Warden would turn the place inside out to find her.
With her expanded path, it would look like he was just a hapless bystander who happened to be next to one of the walls that she’d carved out of. She’d even stolen his knife, which would be even more evidence that she had orchestrated the whole thing. They would find and capture Tyrain and Aelin. They would torture them for information on her.
I’d be found sooner rather than later.
If she tried to save Synol right now, she’d be doing it when all the soldiers were up and awake, probably the worst time for her to attempt a rescue.
Besides, the Warden was probably with Synol right now.
That thought sickened her more than anything. It made her want to run toward the Enlightenment rooms and tear the place down.
Damn! I need my magic back!
“Do you know where Finny is?”
Gustave shot her a confused look.
“My younger sister. She’s why we even came here. She’s the one who caused the storm.”
His eyes widened.
Ynya continued, lowering her voice even more. “I think they’re doing the same things to her that they did to your sister. I saw her the night of the storm. Her eyes were…not hers.”
Realization warmed over his face and he nodded. “If she caused the storm, then she’s probably in with the Translator, to the south.” He cocked his head toward the white building directly across from them. “But it wouldn’t be the same thing that they did to my sister. The Translator does…other things to them. He experiments on them, trying to create a new breed of soldiers for the Frost Queen.”
The Translator?
Finny and Synol were on opposite sides of the compound. Which do I choose?
Ynya looked back at the barracks. If she left right now, it would appear that she was just coming in from her overnight shift. No one would be the wiser, and she, dressed in her soldier uniform, would have full run of the place. She’d be able to gather additional weapons, something she would need if she didn’t have her magic.
The vodka would come in handy, too. Fire was always useful, and it might be a good substitute for her lack of magic.
Synol was with the evilest man she’d ever met, and Finny’s mind was being tortured out of her. Ynya couldn’t bear the thought that Finny could turn out like Aelin.
In her mind, something clicked into place.
It wasn’t a plan, but more of an urging. It was a need she couldn’t ignore any longer.
Ynya didn’t know what she was going to do, she didn’t know how she was going to do it, but her mind made the decision for her, and waited for the rest of her to catch up.
She took two steps closer and lowered her voice even more as she spoke into Gustave’s ear.
“Your sister is under the stairs in the barracks. They have a few weapons, and thick blankets to help survive the wilds. I’m going to go get my sisters and make a run for it.”
She didn’t wait for his reply.
Ynya Oblique turned for the Enlightenment rooms and marched north toward them to save her sister.
She would always run toward family.
Chapter Thirty-Three
2201’s world was nothing but pain.
Her bones had b
een broken and healed so many times she had lost count.
Above her, the Translator continued his lesson as he held up the final vial of serum.
“We’re making good progress, and her mind has held on reasonably well. Only one more serum to go. This last one will unleash the final changes, and seal all the changes we’ve done into one cohesive unit.”
He addressed another soldier who replaced his lost assistants. The new assistant always looked at her in horror.
The Translator looked at her with a childish delight.
“I know the serums are making some…erratic modifications to her body structure, but once they take, I hope you will see the artistry that has been so many years coming.”
The terrified assistant glanced down at her wrists and ankles, noting 2201’s restraints for the fourth time since she had entered the room.
<
I’m doing it for the glory of the Frost Queen.
<
The Translator continued. “As you can see, the elongated jaw and extra row of teeth are a curious adaptation, but I think Her Majesty will find a use for her, don’t you think?”
<
“But we can’t celebrate quite yet. While the same changes occurred with the last patient, his mind was too far gone to be of any use.”
The assistant stammered. “Is that the thing we shipped out a week ago?”
The Translator stood up from examining 2201. He smiled. “Yes, it was, in fact. What did you think about my creation?”
The assistant looked between 2201 and the doctor with the syringe of brown liquid in his hands. “Terrifying.”
The Translator turned back to 2201, leaning over her arm and plunging the final syringe into her arm.
“Then I succeeded.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ynya marched up to the second door from the left in the Enlightenment building. She made the motion with her hand, hoping the soldier next to the door would take her for a superior.
