Shadow and Starlight

by Darcy Sherlen

  One of the hooded figures nodded, a silver clasp glistening as he moved. An emblem of a knife stabbing a snake. His face hid completely under the darkness of his hood.

  They shoved me through a hallway and down a stone staircase. The stairs had been carved into the stone, many of the steps uneven. The deeper we got, the cooler the air became. The smell of mold replaced the smell of ash.

  We entered a hallway lined with prison cells carved into the stone. The two men dragged me past the cells, and in the darkness, there was only glimpses of movement behind the bars.

  “Please, let me go! I will stop the war against your people. You will be able to return to the Upperworld,” I begged.

  Ryder scoffed. “I don't want to go back. I quite like it down here.” The other man laughed, holding my arms behind my back as Ryder opened a cell. “Welcome home, darling.” They tossed me inside, slamming the metal door and with a loud clink, the door locked.

  A strip of burlap on the floor marked the bed. The cell contained only the barest of the necessities. I stopped the investigation short, sitting on the burlap and looking out through the bars.

  The cell across from me was empty, and when I called out, no response came, only my echo and a soft sobbing in the distance. “Are you okay?” I called out again.

  Footsteps clunked down the stone hallway, “Quiet!” a guard yelled. He moved in front of my cell, slamming a wooden stick against the bars. He wore the same black hood as the others, a long wooden stick strapped onto his belt. I scurried back, but he continued down the hallway, hitting the bats along the way. The loud clangs echoed.

  I sat in the dungeon for a long time, afraid to make another peep. My stomach growled, eyelids heavy. Where were Gwen and Demetri? Did they plan to come back for me? Or had they just abandoned me at the first sign of trouble? Traded me for their own skins.

  I slept on the cold hard stones, using my hand as a pillow until the back of it went numb from the rock. It was a restless sleep, brewed from exhaustion. The slightest noise would jerk me awake in fear, the clank of the metal bars, groans of prisoners, and the occasional scream that made my skin crawl. And then there was the guard going down the hall and banging the the metal bars.

  Now that I knew how terrible these Stalkers could be, I even missed Keiran.

  The guard stopped in front of my cell, staggering as he turned and hit the bars of the one across from me. “You in there?” He banged the bars again, but the cell was clearly empty. His words slurred, “No supper for an empty cell!” The guard waited a moment longer, looking through the bars as though a person would pop out of no where.

  At the mention of food, my stomach growled, but it was only hours later when someone appeared in front of the cell. Despite my exhaustion, I instantly jumped up from the ground at the sight of my visitor. Erro, the King of Thieves.

  “Bring her so we may begin conducting the tests.” The guard unlocked the door, while two more hooded figures grabbed me. One had a lithe figure and black fingernails, while the hood on the other had slipped back, revealing a full face and a long black beard tangled with his long black hair.

  He tugged it forward once more before securing his grip around my arm. The two of them pulled me down the hallway, following the King of Thieves through a series of tunnels until we arrived in a larger chamber. I shifted uneasily as sickness rose in my stomach at the familiarity.

  Tables laden with metal instruments, shelves overflowing with filled vials. There were grates on the stone floor and empty chairs equipped with restraints. The only light within the chamber were the small bright lights hanging over the chairs.

  A man in a long white coat hovered around a man strapped in a chair, taking notes within a weathered journal. A bright light hung over his patient, showcasing the purple hair.

  The doctor glanced up, rolling his eyes. “I told you this process needs peace and quiet. When the heart rate speeds up, the blood flows faster. Do you want your Blood or do you want to kill the patient, Erro?”

  The King of Thieves growled. “I pay for your little experiments, Chenko. I lent you this chamber, but it's still mine.”

  The guards shoved me into a chair, leather straps tightening around my wrists and ankles. I shook my head, tears blooming in my eyes. I closed them to hold in the waterworks, but they flowed freely down my cheeks as I did so. I looked up at the stone ceiling above, wondering how I could be here again. How Goddess could curse me so.

  “Hurry up, Chenko. I have more important matters than the silly death of a Seer.” Erro said, his arms crossed and his eyes glinting with anger.

  The doctor must have sensed it, because he turned around and walked away from his patient, giving me a clear view. The man was bruised, one eye swollen shut. Despite the commotion from Erro, he remained unconscious. A long tube attached to his arm flowed red, dripping Blood into a glass cylinder.

  I tested the straps on my wrists and ankles. So secure my extremities were losing circulation. The doctor approached me, scribbling within his journal. He pushed my forehead against the back of the chair, forcing me to look at the bright light. When he released me, he wrote something down and set the journal on a large table, filled with his selection of torture.

  He picked up a pair of scissors, cutting a small section from my hair and tucking it into a small jar which disappeared within his lab coat

  “Which part of Krev did the specimen come from?” the doctor asked.

  Erro shrugged. “I didn't ask.” He paused for a moment, looking over to me. An unseen pressure erupted inside my head. “Some place called Akeldama. It's to the north.”

  My breath caught. How does he know that?

  The doctor tapped at my knees and measured around my arms and shoulders, taking notes all the while.

  “Well?” the King of Thieves demanded after a long silence.

  “Very healthy condition. Should supply us for...” The doctor referred to his journal. “...maybe two or three months, even considering her small size. There's only one test left to conduct.” He reached for a scalpel and took a step toward me.

  My head shook automatically at the sight. “No! Stop!” I used all my strength trying to rip my arms from the restraints. The blade pressed against the top of my hand, my blood pooling around the metal.

  He withdrew the blade, tossing it into an empty tray. Quickly grabbing an empty vial and a metal clamp, he returned to the incision. As he moved the clamps forward, he stopped. “She's not healing.” The two watched me closely, and I could even feel the guards eyes behind me.

  “Well?” Erro roared at the doctor. “Care to explain?”

  The doctor shook his head, marking a large X through his newest entry and returning to the purple haired man. “She's powerless. Worthless.”

  The King of Thieves stormed across the room, grabbed the doctor's arm, spinning him around. A dagger moved swiftly in Erro's hand. “Only one way to find out.”

  The dagger sliced into the lab coat, staining the white fabric with red. “Make a bad trade, Erro?” the doctor questioned with a grimace. He strode to the large table and selected a small glass cylinder. He held it below my cut hand, pressing hard to force the half-coagulated blood to drip out.

  Once it held a sizable amount, he pressed the glass to his lips, letting the liquid slowly pool into his mouth. After a long moment, he smiled, pulling up his sleeve and examining the cut. The slash on his arm had disappeared.

  “I was wrong after all. She's not worthless.”

  The doctor held a clear tube connected to an empty glass jar on the floor. He inserted a needle into my arm and the tube flowed red. Blood dripped into the jar. My Blood.

  Across from me, the man's jar was filled, and his slow inhales were the only sign of movement. Despite the bright light overhead, the color had drained from his face and hair. My energy slipped away as I watched him, time becoming a blur. The jar next to me was my clock. One third full.

  Chenko removed the apparatus from the purple haired man, clos
ing the jar and taking it behind me. Two guards came and carried the unconscious man from the room. The image of the doctor drinking Blood and his arm healing replayed in my head. I couldn't focus. I closed my eyes. I wasn't worthless.

  16

  I awoke back in the cell, half on the burlap roll. Opening my eyes took most of my energy. A tray of food waited by the bars, but I couldn't force myself to move toward it. I slipped in and out of consciousness until a loud bang awoke me.

  I sat up, too quickly, causing a bout of lightheaded nausea. Through the bars, I could see commotion. Chenko used a long stick to prod into the cell. Blue lightning sputtered out of the top as it hit something.

  The sparks encased the figure, and suddenly a small girl, no older than ten, with silver hair appeared. Her hair seemed to emit its own light in the darkness. She huddled in the corner, arms wrapped tightly around her knees. The familiar gentle sobs reached my ears.

  The guard entered the cell, snatching the girl from the ground and throwing her over his shoulder as he exited the cell, headed toward the doctor's chambers. I seethed with anger at the Stalkers. Not just the ones around, but even at Demetri and Zander for abandoning me to die at the hands of these sick people who harvested Blood.

  Something clicked, and my eyes went wide. My mind ran at full speed in my anger. I reached over, grabbing a hard roll from the tray of food, ignoring the moldy taste as I stuffed myself.

  The power of Blood. That's what Erro had said. He could read minds because he drank the Blood of a Seer. Maybe even the purple haired man. The power was in the Blood. Perhaps this was my ticket home. With some of his Blood, I could teleport out of here, maybe even back to the Upperworld.

  The hours passed, my anger dissolving with any hope of escape. The young girl returned, tossed into her cell like a rag doll. The shimmer of her hair had gone, and it looked only dark gray.

  Several guards walked by, holding a limp body. As they passed my cell, I met the lifeless eyes of the Seer, though his hair had gone gray. I gasped, holding my breath until the sound of footsteps was gone.

  “He's just a Seer,” a small voice said. I looked across to the girl, who crawled to the bars. “They go through a few a week. Now, you and me, they'll keep us alive as long as they can. I'd prefer to go out his way.” A loud creak sent the girl back into the darkness of her cell.

  The guard opened my cell door and grabbed my arm. I was still weak and barely able to keep up with the fast pace. Once in the chamber, I was strapped into the chair with much less resistance this time. The doctor inserted the needle, and checked a few things before moving on to someone out of my line of sight.

  When I felt weak, the doctor came back, hovering over me for a long while. He flashed a light in my eyes and adjusted a clamp on the tube to slow the dripping. A door opened behind me and the doctor stood, walking around my chair.

  “The supply was already picked up yesterday,” said Chenko.

  “I'm not here for the supply,” a familiar voice said. Throaty and emotionless. Celeste. “I need to question the Red. Erro's orders.”

  “It won't do any good now. She's already over halfway done with today's—”

  “Exactly how I want her. Too weak to lie.” Celeste appeared in front of me. My jaw tensed. “Why are you here in Astrea?”

  I shook my head. One hand lingered on her dagger, the other extended to my throat. The doctor ran up, pushing Celeste back. “You are not to harm the patient. Her body can only withstand so much and we must extract as much Blood as possible without harming her. Just because you're Erro's daughter doesn't give you a right to barge in here.”

  Celeste pressed her dagger against Chenko's throat. “Go! Take a break. You look as tired as your patients.”

  The doctor shook his head, narrowing his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but he took a step back from the dagger and walked away. A door opened and closed and Celeste turned to me.

  “Answer my question,” she said, the point of the dagger aimed at my eye. “What is a powerless Red doing in Astrea? Are you a spy? Do you plan a war against us?”

  “What do you care? You've already betrayed your leader. It's no wonder your people lost the war in the first place.”

  The sharp movement of her dagger caused me to flinch. She laughed. “Cowardly Red.”

  “A kingdom at war with itself is a weak kingdom.”

  Celeste drew her hand back, as though to slap me. “Answer my question. Why are you here?”

  “I fell in.” The words felt silly coming from my mouth. Admitting a failure...but even that was better than admitting the truth.

  Celeste smiled. “Just an accidental fall? Hmm.” A sudden anger flared in her eyes, the smile turning maleficent. “Bet you were surprised to find us here. Considering your people tried to exterminate us like rodents. Reds killed most of my family. You killed Keiran's and Zander's families. You killed Demetri's family. And you forced us underground like rats.”

  I shook my head. “The war was meant to bring prosperity. The stubbornness of your people was their downfall. Besides, what you are saying is impossible. Krev hasn't been at war in your lifetime.” I paused, meeting her eyes. “How could you betray them? They trusted you.”

  She raised the dagger, the tip of the blade pressing against my sternum. “I was never on their side—”

  The door behind me opened, slamming hard against the stone wall. Celeste's dagger remained in place. I strained to see who had entered.

  “What are you doing here?” Three hooded figures with silver clasps walked slowly forward. Celeste continued. “Everyone is supposed to be meeting—”

  A guard followed in behind them. “I told them this area was off limits. They refused to listen to me.”

  A rapier appeared from under a cloak, stabbing at Celeste. In her shock, her hand drove the dagger at me, slipping into the central opening of my thin leather armor, slicing my stomach. Two of the hooded figures went after the guard, while the other moved in on Celeste.

  I gasped, trying to catch my breath, wishing I could use my arms to press against the gash. The man with the sword dove forward, his hood falling back. Demetri. They had come back for me.

  I looked to the other two. Keiran and Zander, both with their swords drawn, looked around the room. The three of them cornered Celeste, strapping her into one of the vacant chairs. She began screaming loudly for help and they shoved a piece of fabric in her mouth to stifle the sound.

  “How are we supposed to get out of here, Prince?” Zander asked as he began to untie me from the chair.

  “Through the sewers.” He gestured to one of the many large grates on the floor.

  I stood as I was finally free from the chair, forgetting that I was still attached to the tubing. I swayed, throwing my arms out to regain my balance. Demetri grabbed my shoulders, holding me upright. My body erupted into warmth, not helping with any equilibrium. I tugged the needle from my numb arm and pulled down my sleeve.

  “We gotta go,” Keiran said. He peeked through the door, surveying the empty hallway. “There should be another patrol in a few minutes.”

  “We'll be long gone by then,” Zander said as he lifted the heavy grate off the floor and gently set it down.

  Demetri began to walk me toward the hole. I thought of the silver haired girl, and all the other forgotten prisoners here. “Wait!” The word took most of my energy. I pointed to the hallway of cells.

  Keiran shook his head, holding the door shut behind him. “We don't have time to save everyone, Red.”

  I pushed Demetri off me, staggering to the door, and grabbing a key ring from one of the felled guards. Zander took the key ring from me. “Which one?” He jogged ahead, looking into each of the cells. I pointed forward in my disorientation. “They're all empty.”

  “They go through the supply fast. Blood is the drug of choice in Taroth.” Demetri said. I think he meant it to be comforting.

  I finally found the familiar burlap within my cell, and I pointed at
the cell across from my own.

  “It's empty, Elara,” Demetri said.

  I shook my head. “Just open it.” Zander turned the key and pushed open the door.

  Keiran's yell echoed from the larger chamber. “Hey! We need to leave now!”

  Demetri tried to support me, but I pushed him ahead, holding the tender wound and trying to hide the pain of each step. I followed the two of them back into the doctor's chamber. Keiran had barricaded the door with the metal table, the many instruments strewn about the floor. Zander climbed down the ladder, and I followed him, stealthily wiping my bloody hand on my pants as I descended into the darkness.

  Keiran dropped in as well, replacing the grate above him before he climbed down.

  When we reached the bottom, I splashed into ankle deep water. The musky air smelled of algae, and a slight breeze flowed with the water.

  “This way,” said Keiran, leading the group. We began to make our way through the tunnel. Zander following behind Keiran, while Demetri walked behind me.

  For a long time we walked in silence, a reasonable distance growing between me and the two in front due to my injury. Fingers laced through my free hand. Demetri walked next to me. “I'm glad you're okay.” His voice was a whisper, as though he was afraid of the others hearing.

  I gave a small smile, wishing I could ignore the tingling wherever his skin touched mine. But it helped numb my pain, at least.

  For a long time, we walked hand in hand. The waterways were so dark, I could barely see.

  An orange circle of light ahead grew bigger. Keiran turned around, yelling, “Almost there!” Demetri's hand slipped out of mine. My lips pressed together, a pang of disappointment running through me.

  Only a few minutes later, we reached the end of the tunnel. The sky was a war between burnt orange and blood red. The black clouds were thick, though sparse. The water from the sewers disappeared under the web of deep cracks running through the dry land.