by Spoor, Garry
“If there is one thing that these files do say in their obscure way, is that Kile Veller just doesn’t have the killing instinct.”
“What about the incident with Master Boraro?”
“She didn’t kill him.”
“She might have, I often wondered if she would have if no one stopped her.”
“It would appear that you are not so sure of her innocence.”
“I don’t know what to think. If she didn’t kill this Mr. Draw, then where is she?”
“Only when we find her, will we know the answers. So where do we start?”
“Well, since Mr. Draw’s house is on the way to Coopervill, I thought we’d go there first.”
“To see what we can see.”
***~~~***
4
Kile opened her eyes again, but the view hadn’t changed in her cell. She had laid there in the dark for five days, on a damp bed of straw, shackled to the wall with thick chains. If it wasn’t for Reginald and his family, she would have surely starved, or worse. As long as they brought her food, she didn’t have to eat what the guards tossed in at her. She could feign her sedation for only so long, but to what end she wasn’t sure. She knew that as long as they thought she was harmless, that she was incapacitated, there was no reason for them to do… well, to do whatever it was they were planning on doing to her.
Each morning she would try the chains, pulling them from the wall, but it was no use. They were as secured to the wall as they were around her wrists, keeping her arms stretched apart so that she couldn’t even brush the hair from her eyes or scratch the end of her nose. Why was it that her nose never itched until she was unable to scratch it?
From what she had learned from Reginald she was imprisoned in a cell, in a dungeon, in the deepest part of either a Keep or a Stronghold, she wasn’t sure what the difference was between the two, but the images that Reginald showed her were limited at best.
The door to the dungeon opened as the squeak of the rusted hinges echoed off the empty walls and filled the air, a dry wind blew in from somewhere, it was a welcome relief it if only for a moment. The door closed and the sound of bare feet on cold stone got closer. She slumped down against her chains. Her only defense was to keep faking her condition, at least until she could find a way out. The shackles bit into her wrist but she knew it was better than the alternative.
Someone or something jingled a set of keys that opened the door to her cell, but she was in no condition to take advantage of the situation. They tossed in a bowl of what their idea of food was, along with a few choice words before locking the door again. The bowl landed, not far from her feet, tipping to one side and releasing a thick gray slug onto the floor. Even if she was hungry enough to eat it, she had no way of actually reaching it. She couldn’t identify what was in the bowl or even understand what her jailer had said to her each day for the last five days, but each time he said it, he seemed more determined and she knew that her time was running out. She would have to find a way to escape, but escape wasn’t going to be easy. The cell door shouldn’t be a problem if she could get the keys away from her jailer, she would need Reginald’s help with that, and finding her way out of the stronghold, or was it a keep, would be tricky at best, but she had a firm idea of the layout even if it was from a skewed point of view. All she had to do was find a way to get out of the shackles, and that was where her master plan met its demise.
The shackles had been welded closed, sealed around her wrist. There was no key to unlock them since there was no lock. Who ever had chained her to the wall had no intention of letting her leave any time soon.
The last thing she could remember was knocking on Mr. Draw’s door, and the horrid smell that filled the air. She couldn’t identify it at that time, but she knew it now. It was the scent, or should that be the stench, of the uhyre. If that was true, and the guttural sounds of the guard’s voice seemed to support that scenario, then she must be somewhere in the wastelands, the only thing she didn’t know was why.
She had played over the various scenarios in her head, trying to make each piece of the puzzle fit and then filling in the blank spaces with simple speculation. She knew whoever was behind this was not of the uhyre, but a vir. The man that opened the door of the cabin had spoken to her in the Royal tongue, as far as she knew, none of the uhyre spoke the king’s language, or at least not that clearly. He also knew something about Hunters, since he must have been the one to send the message, knowing that a higher priority package would supersede the temporary freeze on common deliveries. Then there was the fact that her food had been tainted. She was able to detect that the first night she was here simply by the smell. They were trying to keep her sedated, more than likely out of fear of what her edge could do. Even in keeping her hands apart, they showed some knowledge of the mystic arts, since more complicated skills need the use of special hand movements. The only glimmer of hope that she had, was in their attempts to prevent her from using her edge they proved that they had no idea what her edge was. That, at least, gave her some advantage.
A sudden sound caught her attention from the far corner of the room as something moved out from underneath the pile of straw. She couldn’t make out what it was at first until it moved into the thin shaft of light that came through the small window of her cell door. It was a large brown rat, larger than what she was used to seeing back home. It was nearly six inches from end to end, and that was not including the tail which was easily another ten inches. He came out from the shadows, cautiously sniffing the gray slop that had spilled from the bowl.
“You wouldn’t happen to know what that is, would you?” She asked it.
-Not a chance.-
The rat replied as it slowly backed away.
-I heard the valrik eat something known as Shrool, but I don’t know if that’s what it is.-
“Just though I asked.”
The rat retreated back into the pile of straw and reappeared with something round in its mouth. As it got closer, Kile identified it as a potato.
-I’m afraid this is all I can bring you today.-
He said as he climbed the wall with it in his mouth, walked along the thick chains, onto her arm and all the way up to her shoulder in order to get it near enough to her mouth so that she could take a bite. Raw potato would not have been her first choice of a meal, but it was better than nothing, and definitely better than the gray slop that was now congealing on the cell floor. It would be at least another six or seven hours before the guard came in to remove the bowl.
-It has been difficult to get into the kitchen with so many vir.-
To think that men were working alongside the uhyre. Of course she had no way of knowing if they were doing it voluntarily.
“They’re preparing for something.” She replied a bit nervously. She was just hoping that whatever it was that they were preparing for didn’t include her.
-There is talk of a visitor coming today, someone important, someone the black robed man wants to make comfortable. Someone he needs.-
“Needs? Needs for what?”
-His plan.-
“I don’t suppose you know what his plan is?”
-Don’t know. He never speaks of it, not even to the little cruel one.-
She finished the last bit of her potato as the rat climbed back down to the cell floor.
-Try to find Kile better food tomorrow-
He said as he headed toward the corner of the room, to where a small hole in the stone wall was located.
“Thank you Reginald.” She called after, but the rat was long gone.
From what she had learned from Reginald’s visits she now knew that the keep or stronghold was populated by the uhyre, except for the kitchen staff which seemed to be made up of mostly vir. That wasn’t really surprising since there appeared to be at least two vir in charge, and she figured they wouldn’t want to eat the gray slop either.
One of the vir the rats called the black robed man, for what she could only assume was beca
use he wore a black robe and the other was referred to as the little cruel one. She had not seen either man since she had been imprisoned, but that was probably because they thought she had not regained consciousness. It was also clear that the black robed man was in charge, since according to Reginald, he had often bossed the little cruel one around.
The knowledge didn’t really help her situation, but then as Master Adams back at the Academy always said, information was power. It was the job of all good Hunters to gather as much information as they could, and that was all that she could do at the moment, gather information, but if the situation didn’t improve, what good was the information.
She closed her eyes and her mind and melted into the silence of the cell, it was only a matter of time before whatever was going to happen happened and she had to be ready for it. She must have dozed off since she was awakened by the sound of the dungeon doors opening again. Was it meal time already? It was difficult to tell time in the darkness of the cell, she had no way of telling night from day. Maybe they were just coming for the bowl, or maybe they were coming for her this time.
“Unhand me.” She heard a young woman scream. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
It was the first time she had heard real words spoken in the darkness, most of the time it was just the guttural speech of the uhyre. She risked looking up toward the small window of the door, but she couldn’t see anything from her place on the floor.
“Put her in with the hunter, they can keep each other company.”
The second voice was that of a man, who sounded strangely familiar, and the way he spit out the word Hunter showed a strong hatred towards the Guild.
“I will not be handled like this. Do you hear me? Do you know who I am?”
The door to the cell opened rather abruptly as it swung into the wall with a loud bang, probably because the valrik who was handling the young woman pushed her through it. She landed hard on the cold stone floor, knocking over the rest of the gray slop that Kile had come to call Shrool, even if it might not have been. Her hand and her feet had been bound, and she wiggled across the room toward the door that was closed and locked behind her.
“Don’t! Don’t lock me in here.” She cried out.
“You will stay in there until you are ready to cooperate.” The man said.
Kile knew she had heard that voice before, and she even dared to look up toward the small window of the door to catch a glimpse of her captor, but all she could see was the dark silhouette of the man's head, blocking out the only light that she had. From the silhouette she couldn’t tell if it was the black robed man or the little cruel one. If she had to guess she would say it was the little cruel one, why have minions working for you if not to do all the dirty work.
“Wait… come back… please.” The young girl pleaded, but the man just made a dismissive sound and disappeared from the window.
Kile waited until she heard the dungeon doors close again, leaving her in the dark, but not alone this time.
“Are you alright?” She asked the shadows.
“Stay away from me. Don’t come any closer.” The young girl shouted as she started to wiggle her way across the room. She didn’t stop until she reached the corner and had nowhere else to go. “Just… Just stay away from me.”
“Well, I’m hardly in any position to get any closer.” Kile replied as she shook her arms the best she could in order to get the chains rattling.
She couldn’t see the young girl on the other side of the room, not in the darkness of the cell. Where was that exceptional eye sight now that she needed it, she wondered? That was the problem with certain aspects of her edge. They seem to come and go at the worst possible moment.
“You’re… you’re a prisoner here too?”
No Kile thought, I’m just here for the spa treatment. She was not the brightest person to be locked up in a cell with.
“It would appear that way. The name is Kile… Kile Veller. What’s yours?”
“Emara Lon.” The young girl replied.
She seemed a little calmer now, now that she knew that Kile wasn’t some creature locked in the small room with her. Emara? She had heard that name before but she wasn’t sure where.
“Why are you here Emara?”
“Because I was captured.”
“I mean, why were you captured?”
“Oh… I don’t know… I mean I know… but… I don’t know.”
Yes, definitely not one of the brightest people to be locked up with.
“What is it that you do?”
“Me? I… I’m just a student. I’m studying the Mystic Arts.”
“You’re a mystic?”
“Well… yeah, sort of. I’ve only been studying there for a couple of years. I’m not really a full mystic… not yet.”
“But you know the arts… don’t you?”
“I’m one of the few people who are influenced by all eight spheres, so they say.” She announced proudly.
Kile knew very little about the mystic arts, and trusted them even less. She only knew what her instructor back at the Academy had told her, and that wasn’t very informative.
“Can you manipulate metal?” She asked.
“Metal? I’m afraid I’m not all that good with metal. Funny… that’s what Ravenshadow asked me.”
“Ravenshadow?”
“Yeah, that old man in the long dark robes, he calls himself Ravenshadow. Said I was free to go if I did some metal manipulations for him. I told him to go jump in a lake and then they threw me in here. Not exactly the most hospitable person, but then anyone that hangs around with valrik can’t be all that nice.”
“So you can’t manipulate metal.” Kile replied as her hopes started to die.
“Well… I don’t really know.”
“You don’t know how, or you don’t know if you can.”
“Well, my instructors say I can, but I haven’t had very much luck with it to tell you the truth.”
“Could you try on these shackles? Make them larger. If you can free my hands maybe we can try to get out of here.”
Kile had seen some wondrous things done through the mystic arts, she had seen her instructor create a figure of a rabbit out of a lump of stone, but even he couldn’t manipulate metal.
“I can’t.” Emara replied.
“But you could try.”
“No, I mean… I can’t, not with my hands tied. I haven’t learned how to work the arts without moving my hands.”
“How are your hands tied?” Kile asked, straining her eyes to see the young girl through the darkness, but all she could make out was a faint shape pressed up against the far wall.
“Together.” Emara replied.
“I meant, what are they tied with, is it just a rope?”
“Yeah, I think so… why?”
“I might be able to get your hands free.”
She closed her eyes and reached out with her edge. It was a new trick she had been practicing since leaving the Academy. Not only could she detect the presence of the natural world, but she had learned how to call to it. She wasn’t really sure how it worked, it was kind of hit or miss and the range was limited, but she could connect with certain animals at certain times. It didn’t take her long before she found Reginald, he wasn’t that far away. She hadn’t really figured out how to tell him what she needed him for, just that she needed him, and she knew in her mind that he understood.
Within moments she heard the familiar sound in the damp straw on the far side of the cell.
“What… what was that?” Emara asked.
She had heard the sound as well.
-Kile?-
“Reginald.”
“Reginald? Who are you talking to Kile? Is there someone else in the cell?”
“Reginald, do you think you can gnaw through Emara’s ropes?”
-Gnaw through ropes. Well, it wouldn’t be my first choice but of course I will.-
Reginald and four of his family members ran acros
s the cell toward Emara. Kile only then realized she should have warned Emara when she heard the young girl scream.
“RATS!”
Her high shrill scream echoed through the dungeon as Emara tried in vain to get away from the rodents. Hopefully the guards would enjoy the thought of the young girl being savaged by rats rather than come to her aide.
“Emara, calm down please.”
“There are rats in here.”
“Yes, I know, they only want to help.”
“Help? Help who?”
“Just calm down, they’re not going to harm you.”
“I don’t like rats.” Emara shouted.
“Do you want to get out of here or not?” Kile asked calmly. She wanted to shout as well but feared that if the guards hear two voices they may get suspicious and come to investigate. As far as they knew, Kile was still sedated.
“I don’t like rats.” Emara shouted again.
“You can’t see the rats.”
“I know they’re there.”
“Think of them as kittens, little furry kittens, you like kittens… don’t you?”
-No, not really.-
“You’re not helping Reg.”
“Kittens… little furry kittens.” Emara repeated over and over to herself. With her new mantra well rehearsed Reginald and his family of little furry rat kittens went to work on the ropes that bound the young mystic hands.
It took them longer than Kile would have thought to gnaw through the ropes, but she knew when they were done when Emara jumped to her feet screaming.
“Get them off, get them off.”
So much for the little furry kittens.
-Well… she’s free, for all the good it will do you.-
Reginald replied as he and his family sought refuge beside Kile to get away from the flailing Emara.
“Thanks guys. That’s another one I owe you.”
-Kile is family and family doesn’t owe family.-
It was a nice sentiment, although a little strange to be considered a member of a rat’s family.
“If you’re finished jumping around, you might want to lend a hand here.”
