by J C Maynard
Eston snapped the reins again. The cold air and snow pelted his face as he shot through the streets headed for the prison, which loomed in front of him illuminated by torchlight. The snow fell hard all around him in the night and Eston reached the third district, approaching the front gates to the prison.
Slowing the horse down, Eston nudged it forward and stopped it behind a corner of a nearby building that allowed him to hide but still watch the front gates. Off in the distance, around another side of the prison in a courtyard open to the streets, a crowd of hundreds of people with torches yelled and chanted around the gallows. Eston’s stomach dropped, seeing the noose loom tall and black in the torchlight. He felt sick, hearing the people of the city shouting with their torches, demanding they bring out the the Nightsnake.
Adjusting his seat on Qerru-Mai’s horse, Eston looked around in the freezing night air around him. People were still funneling towards the gallows, but no one was approaching the front gates. Who was that who helped me get out? . . . Eston keep looking around, breathing into his hands to warm them up. Raelynn was nowhere in sight. Eston replayed his memory as Kyan. The person walked into my cell, gave me his cloak, had me bind him, and took my place. Eston looked around again — no one approached the front gates.
Nearly half an hour had passed, and Eston’s heart pounded — no one had come to the front gates — no one had come to take Kyan’s place. The crowd at the gallows numbered close to a thousand by now, and their roar pierced through the blizzard. The same Palace judge — Ratticrad — had taken a seat on the stand opposite the gallows.
Every time a man or woman passed by the gates and the Guards to the prison, Eston held his breath. But no one had come. In the distance, the crowd began to quiet for the first time. Eston’s stomach dropped and his hands turned even colder when he realized it was because the judge was speaking. It’s almost time . . .
Eston frantically looked around. Did I just miss something? . . . No, I’ve been staring at these gates for a while. The judge said something and the crowd yelled, making Eston breathe faster. Come on, come on . . . he thought, looking at the gates to the prison, but no one was speaking with the Guards or entering or exiting. Come on! Time is running out! Eston looked back to the gallows where the judge continued to speak and the crowd murmured. Torches lined the edge of the gallows, symbolizing the fires of hell in which the criminals would pay for their misdoings.
The crowd roared again and Eston’s heart pounded. Come on! Why is no one coming to help? He looked around again for Raelynn and saw nothing. The crowd around the gallows grew louder and Eston tapped his fingers together in nervousness. No one is coming — why is no one coming? Time is running out! They’re bringing out the prisoner soon! I swear someone came; I remember it, someone came to my cell and freed me — took my place . . . It was at that moment that Eston realized it — he realized there was a way to fix all of this. That’s it! That’s the solution.
Suddenly he felt hope again. He ran his mind through it all. Of course! I’m the Prince — the only person who the Guard would ever let into the prison. I won’t be able to stop the execution if they think it’s a criminal, but if I free Kyan and take my place long enough to escape, then I’ll be able to announce myself as the Prince to the Guard and stop the execution. They’ll see who I am and let me go but by then, Kyan will be safe.
Eston looked at the gallows and the torches around it, the roaring crowd, and the judge. I can do this. Eston limped up to the gates, slowly; his foot still throbbed. Eston approached the Guards, who raised their swords. Eston removed his hood, and the Guards stepped back. “Your Majesty . . . what are you doing here?”
Eston slowly exhaled. “Let me see the prisoner.”
The Guards looked at each other. “They are almost ready for the execution, Your Majesty, I don’t think-”
Eston raised his hand and spoke softly. “Do as I say.” The Guard bowed and opened the gate and lead Eston through the torchlit hallways of the prison to the door behind which Kyan was held. Eston turned to him and raised his hand again. “Return to your post.”
The Guard bowed and left Eston with the Guards in front of the cell door. Eston spoke quietly, “Let me see the prisoner, and hand me the head cover . . . I want to put it on him myself.” The Guards bowed and handed him a cloth bag and opened the door.
Eston stepped into the dark cell and the door closed behind him. He saw himself sitting tied against the stone wall, blindfolded. His shirt was gone and his body was bloody. Eston looked at himself, but his other body could not see him through the blindfold. Eston slowly stepped toward himself — Kyan.
Eston whispered the first words that came to his mind. “If you do exactly what I tell you, you will get out of this cell. Do not speak; the guards will hear.” Eston knelt down beside Kyan and grabbed the ropes that bound his hands and feet and began to untie them. Once again, he spoke in a whisper, “Do not take your blindfold off until you are ready to go out of this cell . . . once I get you untied, you will take the cloak and shirt I’m wearing and put it on for yourself.” Eston untied the last knot and removed Kyan’s ties, but pressed on his shoulder to keep himself down.
Kyan and whispered, “Who are you? What are you-”
Eston put his hand over Kyan’s mouth to shut him up. He then removed his cloak and shirt and allowed Kyan to stand so he could hold it and guide Kyan’s arms through. Then Eston sat down where Kyan been tied up.
Eston whispered again. “You can walk out of the prison the way you came in. The guards won’t stop you. Place the hood of the cloak over your head and keep your head down. Walk slowly and don’t look at anyone. Once you turn around, you may take off your blindfold, but do not look back . . .” A tear slid down Eston’s covered face. “You’re free, now go . . .” Eston’s heart pounded as he heard himself leave the room and walk down the hallway — set free.
Eston’s stomach dropped when he heard several armor-clanking footsteps coming down the hallway a minute later. Shit, they’re too early — there’s not enough time for Kyan to get out far enough. Eston’s heart began to race. I need to give myself more time to escape. Eston quickly scanned the jail cell and grabbed the rope and the execution headbag. They have to think I’m Kyan for just a bit longer. He quickly put on the headbag, which hung to his shoulders, and in twenty or so seconds, he tried to tie knots around his own ankles and wrists behind his back.
Just as he pulled a crude knot tight, the door swung open. Anxiety spread through him as multiple Guards walked into the cell. They grabbed him and untied him from the wall, pulling him up to his feet. A Guard spoke. “Get up, you filthy scum. . . the gallows are ready for you.” Eston walked along slowly with the Guards and a bag over his head, blinding him.
Eston shook his head as they pushed him forward. This isn’t enough time . . . The noise of the crowd outside drew near. But I have to reveal myself . . . Hoping that he had given Kyan enough time to escape, he pushed back against the Guards and shouted, “Stop!”
His stomach dropped when they kept pushing him forward. “Stop! I’m the Prince! I’m Eston Whenderdehl!”
The Guards laughed. “Prince Eston just left a minute ago. Nice try.” They pushed him forward and around a turn toward the noise of the crowd around the gallows.
Eston’s heart beat out of his chest. “No! Stop! Take my headbag off! I’m the Prin-”
Suddenly, a piece of cloth tightened hard around his mouth, pressing the headbag into his teeth — they were gagging him. Eston tried to yell, but all that came out was a pitiful muffled cry. He began to writhe — pushing and kicking at them. Shouting in vain to let him go. He thrashed and trying to hit, but the many Guards just tightened their grip on him.
Eston screamed out of his gagged mouth. Then a shock of pain rang through his skull as he felt the hilt of a sword bash into it. Another hard hit to the head made his mind swirl as the Guards dealt another blow to his knees and shoulders. Dragging Eston through the prison hallway, they opened th
e latched doors to the outside.
The roar of the unseen crowd pounded against his ears. People spat at him, waved their torches, and chanted curses against him — the “leader of the Nightsnakes.” The Guards pushed Eston forward to what he knew were the gallows. Eston tried to struggle, but the pain overtook him, and the Guards’ grip on his body was too strong to overcome.
Images of Benja flashed through his head. Eston pictured Benja’s face at the gallows as the door opened up from under him. The crowd chanted more, and Eston was pushed up the stairs of the gallows. He tried to yell, but his voice was hoarse and weak. The cold night air and snow mixed with the smell of smoke from all the torches. Eston’s head pulsed and his breathing quickened; his body fell limp in the hands of the Guards.
Suddenly the world seemed to close in around him as the dread filled his blood. His senses were muted, and neither the snow nor the air seemed cold. The crowd’s roar began to sound muffled as a feeling of sickness spread through his body, threatening to make him vomit. His blood felt chilled and a darkness spread through his soul. Eston barely breathed, but his heart pounded so that he felt every pulse go throughout his entire frozen body. Eston tried to think clearly, but nothing else went through his head.
Judge Ratticrad pounded his gavel and the crowd quieted. Above the howling wind, the judge spoke out. “Citizens of Ferramoor! We have gathered at the Great Prison tonight to witness the execution of the head conspirator and leader of the infamous thief gang — The Nightsnakes. The Lord of Thieves has tarnished the sanctity of this glorious city in the eyes of our Great Mother, defiling Her law and harming Her children. He has therefore given up his right to live.”
The crowd below Eston roared and cursed and spit towards the gallows.
Ratticrad continued, “The head cover shall be kept on the criminal for the remaining minute of his life; the Great Mother wishes not to see the faces of her disloyal and vain children. By the power of the Great Mother and the Crown of Ferramoor, I now commence this execution.”
The crowd roared once more as the Guards pushed Eston forward onto the trap door and placed the noose around his neck. Expanding his last bit of strength he had, Eston kicked a Guard and yelled from his gagged mouth. Another shock of pain in the back of his head from the hilt of a sword made his vision spin. Eston’s heart pounded so that every inch of his body felt the pulses. Images of Benja shot through his mind again, and his breathing quickened. In his blurry mind, he could manage one thought. This is it . . .
Judge Ratticrad slammed the gavel down once more and quieted the crowd. The snowstorm around the gallows howled and the torches of the thousands of spectators crackled, but Eston could hear his heartbeat above it all. A precious thing that never meant so much — a heartbeat. The judge spoke out, “Let it begin!”
Tears streamed down Eston’s face like never before. Faces flashed through his head — Raelynn, Aunika and Dalah, and Fillian. I’m sorry, he thought. His little brother . . . Eston remembered Fillian running up behind him to mess up his hair, and spitting off a bridge with him. But he also remembered Fillian’s face as he watched Aunestauna burn and he remembered Fillian’s tears for their mother.
Eston pictured his smiling, selfless brother. He sobbed beneath the dark headbag. It’s your turn, Fillian . . . take the throne. I love you, brother. Sobbing, Eston shut his eyes and shouted gagged words that no one could hear.
The door beneath his feet opened, and Eston felt a brief sensation of falling before a flash of pain and then darkness.
Iridescence
Chapter Thirty Eight
The only thing he could see was light . . . pure, iridescent light swirling softly around him. His whole body floated in glowing streams of energy. Vibrant colors danced across his skin, and streams of light twirled around his legs. As far as he could tell, he wasn’t breathing, but he didn’t feel the need to. Like a galaxy was being created around him, thousands of little specks of light sprung into existence around him as his body slowly drifted into more light. His mind was blank, as streams of light seamlessly drifted into and out of his body, lighting up his skin and veins. It was silent, save for a small sound inside his head and could only be described as a shimmering. His body felt weightless as it drifted in the light. He couldn’t tell how long he floated there before he heard the muffled sound of someone calling out his name. Tayben!
~Morning, February 11th
Suddenly, Tayben was pulled up onto the grass and mossy shore of the pond of light in Miss Silverbrook’s hollow in Endlebarr. Silverbrook quickly turned Tayben over as he coughed up water and light that vanished into the air. The pond of light rippled and sent tiny stars dancing underneath the golden canopy of the hollow. Tayben’s heart raced, as if he had just awoken from a nightmare.
“Tayben!” said Miss Silverbrook in a panic. “I couldn’t find you this morning! Are you alright? Tayben look at me, are you alright?”
Tayben coughed up more water and his chest convulsed. He shook his head and kept trying to calm his breathing.
Miss Silverbrook quickly put her hand to his head and let a stream of white Taurimous course into him. She closed her eyes, trying to read his thoughts and memories. Her eyes shot open and she grabbed Tayben forcefully. “You died . . . As Eston- that body- the prince of Ferramoor — you died . . .” Tayben coughed again and she rushed a stream of light into his chest to try and slow down his racing heart. “Tayben just breathe, you’ll be alright. You’re safe . . . you’re okay . . . you’re alive.” Tayben’s eyes darted around at the enormous trees of the hollow with frightened eyes. Miss Silverbrook put a hand on his face. “Look at me, Tayben. It’s okay . . . you’re alive in this body, I promise you . . . Tayben, breathe and try to calm your mind . . . you’re safe.”
Tayben’s breathing slowed, and Silverbrook sent another stream of light into his head to try and calm him. Tayben’s eyes stopped darting around and began to focus more, and he looked at her with wide eyes and tears. Miss Silverbrook felt his thoughts and memories and began to cry with him. “It’s alright, Tayben . . . You’re safe.”
Silverbrook sat there with Tayben for some time as he tried to comprehend everything in tears. Miss Silverbrook stared at the lake of light. “How did you fall in?” Tayben shook his head and tried to get up, but his limbs were weak. Miss Silverbrook nodded and stared at the light. “Did you not fall in? . . .” She looked back at Tayben. “The Tenebris does work in mysterious ways . . . I wouldn’t be surprised if it moved your body to the lake at the moment of Eston’s death to protect your soul, allowing Eston’s memories to transfer to you while he was in limbo before he was lost into the void.”
Tayben finally sat up and breathed heavily with his arms crossed over his knees. “I- I was sleeping in this body — I think — and I- now I’m here. I d-don’t remember how I-” His cloak was drenched in water, and little beads of light dripped off of his bottom lip and his nose. He whispered to himself, “I’m alive . . .” He stared at the lake of shimmering light. “I’m dead b- but I’m alive as well.” He turned to Miss Silverbrook. “Is my other body gone? . . . Eston — am I-”
“Dead.” whispered Silverbrook. “Yes . . .” She put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Tayben . . .”
Tayben stared blankly at the pool of stars in front of them which surrounded the center island of the hollow with SIlverbrook’s treehouse. He watched the specks of light dance around in the water. “What’s going to happen?”
Silverbrook nodded. “That’s a question with many answers.”
“Fillian will take my place as heir?”
Silverbrook nodded.
“I’ll be living every day only three times . . .”
Silverbrook stared with Tayben at the lake of glowing water.
“I-” Tayben couldn’t think of what to say. “I don’t know whether to be grateful or saddened.”
Silverbrook brushed a tear from her eye for a reason Tayben couldn’t figure out. “It’s bittersweet. You have to leave t
hat life behind, but you get another chance to live . . .” Silverbrook’s mind trailed off somewhere distant, whether past, future, or present, it didn’t matter. “You are something extraordinary, Tayben . . .”
Tayben sniffed up tears and tried thinking of something else. “I’m assuming it’s sunrise . . . because I switched bodies.”
Silverbrook nodded. “February 11th, morning . . . I felt a disturbance in the air and rushed out of the house to see you motionless in the lake of Taurimous.” She looked at Tayben, who was still drenched and shaking. “I think you need something to calm you down . . . your mind is racing a million miles an hour right now. You’ve also lived after death . . . something no one has ever done . . . Let’s start with a change of clothes, shall we? You’re drenched. I’ll make you something to fill your stomach. I’m here for anything you need, alright?”
Tayben nodded and slowly followed her into the enormous tree that served as her house and walked up to his room to put on new clothes. Tayben stood by the dresser and slowly opened the drawers, his mind still haunted by the sounds of the crowd at the gallows. He couldn’t feel the presence of Eston’s part of his mind. The vacancy felt big and open and empty and lonely. If I can’t feel that . . . does that mean there’s nothing after death? Tayben’s heart rate picked up, but he pulled out a pair of clothes to distract his mind.
From downstairs, Tayben heard Silverbrook call. “Tayben, are you coming?”
Tayben stared blankly out the glassless window into the golden autumn forest before replying, “Yes, I’ll be right there.”
“Noxberry juice or renberry juice?” she called up to him, with a little hint of anxiousness in her voice.
Tayben opened the door and walked down the crooked spiraling stairs. “Renberry, please.” Each step was angled and curved, growing from the tree itself, and soft light filtered through the openings into the center of the tree. He stepped into the twisted and gnarled wooden kitchen, where Miss Silverbrook was mixing something in a cup with a small oak rod. Tayben looked around the small kitchen within the tree. The tiniest breeze blew through the openings for windows.
