by Anna Logan
She advanced timidly from where everyone but the Wardens were waiting to the side. “Yes?”
“The message is to tell us that Loestin has taken ill. It says he’s not in danger, but it is quite severe.”
Her hands extended just a little, reaching for the paper, yet not committing. “Can I…May I re—”
“Of course.” He gave it to her and stepped back as she read it. Tears filled her eyes. Great. She was already sick with worry over Talea, now her husband. Not wanting the responsibility of offering some sort of comfort, he backed up even more, knowing either Haeric or Grrake would do something about it.
The scout went on his way, and the day dragged on. Yhkon kept to himself as much as possible. Or, if not by himself, then with Grrake, or maybe Wylan, who was proving decent company if company was the only option. Wylan was quiet, reasonable, steady. Easier to deal with than the energy of the twins or Tarol, or the empathy of Haeric and Brenly, or the anxiety of Seles, or Naylen’s zeal.
It was a pleasant surprise when they were joined by a band of Elikwai toward the evening. He hadn’t expected any to arrive for at least a couple days.
The men dismounted, their leader taking off his hood as he faced Yhkon. He was a younger man, nearly as tall as Yhkon. “Silquije Eun,” he bowed slightly.
Yhkon acknowledged him with a dip of his head. “It’s Dranin, Marshal of the 10th squadron, isn’t it?”
Dranin nodded with a smile. “Aye. I’ve noticed you lingering about the Elikwai base now and again, I didn’t know you were paying so much attention, though.”
He only shrugged, looking past Dranin to count the band. Fourteen, not including Dranin. The usual number, minus one. At least it isn’t less.
“Our Captain was killed in an unexpected encounter with some Kaydorians. We were on our way to Calcaria to receive new leadership and commands, but a scout told us that Eun was captured by Asyjgon?”
“That’s right.” Yhkon returned his attention to Dranin. From what he’d observed in his visits to the Elikwai base, the man was plenty capable. “I’m appointing you to be captain of this squad, you may choose a marshal from your men.”
Dranin bowed slightly. “Thank you.” He turned to his men. “Masol, you’ll be the marshal.”
“Now,” Yhkon crossed his arms, spreading his feet shoulder-width apart. “Most of these bases have about two hundred men. I think we can get in, get Talea, and get out against those odds, if we focus on extraction and not on a full out attack. If we—” he stopped as someone tapped his arm. It was Grrake, motioning toward Seles. Oh. Right. “Okay, first, could two of your men escort Mrs. Andul to Calcaria?”
Seles’ drooping head jerked up. “What? What about—”
“Seles,” Grrake spoke gently, “you can be with Loestin. You can help him, if you go. Here, there’s nothing for you to do.” He raised his hands soothingly when she started to object. “We are going to get Talea back, that I promise you. And when we do, it should only be a couple more weeks after that before she’s safely in Calcaria with you.”
“You can go too, Brenly.” Yhkon added. “Your uncle is there.”
With a frown, Brenly shook her head. “I’d rather stay, if it’s okay.” She turned to Seles. “That way, both Naylen and I will be here for her, Mrs. Andul. We’ll take care of her. Mr. Andul needs you more than she does right now.”
Naylen nodded his agreement, and Seles relented, wiping her eyes with a sleeve. “Alright.”
“Right,” Dranin folded his hands behind his back. “Endzor, Lmin, you will take her there. If it’s alright by the Silquije, you can leave now and get some travel in before dark.”
“Go ahead,” he confirmed, and left, pretending to check something on Eclipse, rather than hang around awkwardly for goodbyes. By listening, he knew when they were done, and Seles was about to mount up behind one of the Elikwai. Impulsively, he moved forward to stop her. He looked her in the eye. “I swear I’ll get her back.”
Seles nodded. Her hand rested briefly on his arm before she mounted, and they rode off.
The rest of them kept going. Kept following the trail. His words echoed in his mind, solidifying. I swear I’ll get her back.
~♦~
Talea lifted her head with a jolt of alarm. Listened. The sound grew more distinct: footsteps. Coming toward her. There was nothing to be seen in the inky blackness, save the orange glint on the cell bars from distant torchlight. She scrambled on all fours to the back of her cell, huddling in the corner, one hand clutching a bar. The metal was uneven, smooth in some places, rough in others where rust had taken up residence. The sweat on her palms made it slick.
A masculine voice cursed. “...torch went out…” another line of profanity. There was the sound of a flint striking against stone, and a small yellow light flared to life, illuminating the man that held it dimly as he tried to light the torch on the wall with it.
Her eyes widened, fixed on the light. When the torch kindled, increasing the glow, something like relief drew a deep exhale from her lungs. The blackness was finally gone.
Any relief vanished as the man advanced toward her cell. She shrank back as far as she could, watching as he stopped in front of the door. But he didn’t open it. He reached his arm through, a wooden cup in his hand.
Water! The relief returned. Talea slid forward, just close enough that she could reach out and take the cup. The liquid flooded over her parched throat, like an ocean quenching a desert. Only after every drop was gone did she hand the cup back to him. It was Ralib, she realized, the man that had carried her more comfortably for the second half of the trip. “Thank you,” she whispered, just as hoarsely as the last time she’d tested her voice. Just as painful to her throat.
He squatted, bringing them eye level. “You should just do what Lerrip wants, you know. It’s nothing so terrible.”
That she doubted. As far as she could tell, they wanted her to fight for them, and that was terrible enough in her mind.
Ralib went on. “Our commander believes you, or at least this lightning of yours, is a gift from Vyngem. Lerrip doesn’t, nor do I really, but either way, it is something we’d like to be able to serve our god with. That’s all we want.”
All? Because that’s so simple? She didn’t know about the Asyjgon god. Or how exactly she might serve him with her ability. One thing was clear: if it required her to kill the old man—or anyone—the only choice was to refuse. Playing along to buy time hadn’t worked. She was terrified at the idea of being back in that room with Lerrip…at the idea that they would probably kill her if she continued to rebel…but she couldn’t kill anyone. If that was what they wanted her for, she had to resist. Despite the consequences. She shook her head at him.
He frowned. “Well, you’ve got some spirit, I’ll give you that.” Standing up, he turned away, still looking back at her. “But believe me when I tell you, you won’t win. He’ll either get what he wants, or he’ll kill you.”
Lerrip or his god, Vyngem? As far as she was concerned, they were one and the same.
Ralib left, left her in the dark, lonely prison. As wrong as it seemed, she rather wished the Asyjgon had some other prisoners. That there could be someone else, besides her. Just her.
Though her thirst had been alleviated, nothing else had. Her neck still ached, there was a constant pounding in her head, the fiery burn in her ribcage. A chill that covered her arms in goosebumps. A slight queasiness, alongside hunger. There was nothing to do about any of it. All she could do was take the corner farthest from the chamber pot, curl up on the floor, and try to sleep.
Sleep did come, in bits and pieces. Never for long without a nightmare or jolting awake. Without unending stretches of wakefulness, of feeling the full effects of fear and loneliness.
It came to an official end when she woke to the jingling of keys and metal scraping metal.
The door swung open, bumping her thigh. The man that had opened it grabbed her wrists and dragged her up and out. Away from the secu
rity of loneliness.
It was the same process as before: away from the prisons, into the heart of the Asyjgon base. Away from the noise and activity to the right passage, into the silence of the left. To the closed door. Into the room.
All the same men were there, including the old slave. Only one thing was new, and that was the little girl standing beside Lerrip, his hand on her shoulder. Talea’s eyes locked on her and stayed there. She couldn’t have been older than seven, with the gaunt frame of a child that wasn’t familiar with consistent nourishment. There was a bruise on her forehead, purple against her chocolate-colored skin. Her clothes were tattered, barely more than rags. But most noticeable was her eyes. Big, brown, liquid pools of intelligence, of the soul within.
“I see you’ve noticed our guest.” Lerrip’s hand tightened on the girl’s shoulder, and she flinched. “This is Alili. She’s one of our slaves, an innocent little girl, wouldn’t you agree?” he smiled. It was the smile that sent a jolt of terror through her gut. He raised his hand from Alili’s shoulder, and drew it back, as if to strike her.
“No, wait!” it came out rather like a squeak, but at least it came out. Her lunge to stop him was prevented by the man that held her.
Lerrip’s hand stopped just before it would have hit Alili’s cheek. He looked back at Talea, his head tilted, as if curious. “Oh, you don’t want to see her hurt?”
So what if she was submitting to whatever game he was playing. She shook her head.
“I see.” He gave Alili’s back a pat, earning another flinch from the girl. “Well, then perhaps we can come to an agreement. You do what I tell you, and she remains unharmed.” His gaze hardened into the savage glare that she was all too familiar with. “Demonstrate your witchcraft for us, something you could use in combat.”
Her eyes met Alili’s, and found her fear reflected there. Also, her reluctance. She didn’t know how she could possibly hurt the old man, but she also didn’t know if she would be able to live with herself if she abstained while watching an innocent child bear the brunt of her choices.
Her deliberation took too long. Lerrip’s fist struck Alili’s cheek, sending the girl sprawling with a raspy cry of pain.
“No!” Talea tried again to go to her. The man held her fast. She turned back towards him, briefly scanning how he held her wrist. An image of Yhkon holding her wrist the same way flashed to mind. He’d taught her this a week ago, how to escape from this grip…she twisted her wrist at the same time as she yanked down, breaking the hold by pulling at the weakest part: where the man’s thumb touched the tips of his other fingers. Free, she leaped to reach Alili before anyone else could.
Lerrip and another of the Asyjgon stopped her, grabbing her arms. Heat came to her hands before she could stop it.
Lerrip’s eyes narrowed as he inspected the blue glow in her hands with pleasure. “Ah, there it is. Show me what I want, and I won’t hurt Alili again.”
Talea glared at him with every ounce of the anger that spread warmth throughout her body. Who cared if he strangled her, or left her in that prison in utter darkness? She would glare. But she had to protect Alili…without killing the old man. She sought out his gaze and held it, trying to convey to him that she wouldn’t hurt him. Not seriously, anyway. Not how Lerrip wanted her to. But she had to protect Alili. So, she reached out and touched her hand to his shoulder, allowing a slight, restrained current of electricity. His body seized up, jerking, and she withdrew. He slumped to the ground, shaking…not injured. It wouldn’t have been a comfortable sensation, but he was already recovering.
Lerrip raised an eyebrow at her. “Good, good…but that isn’t what I asked. I want to see how lethal it is.”
The temptation to demonstrate that to him itched for attention. It would be so easy, to clamp her hand down on his arm and exert all the energy she could feel raging in her core. He wouldn’t have time to so much as breathe before it would kill him in one terrible, painful shock. She’d never done such a thing to anyone. Yet somehow, she knew that she could kill him. She suspected that she could kill all of them. She might have killed those Asyjgon in the mountains accidentally, something that had haunted her thoughts, but this felt natural and almost right. It made her feel powerful. It also terrified her.
Her hands had balled into fists. With effort, she uncurled them. No. It was wrong, and she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t kill the old man, but she couldn’t kill the Asyjgon either.
Lerrip’s posture became more threatening, making her wince. “Listen, girl. The reason we went to so much effort to capture you is this: we want you to fight for us with this ability of yours. If you do, you will be treated well. So will Alili. No more prison, no more harm.”
Her breath hitched. She could say yes. It wasn’t just her survival now, it was Alili’s, and for a moment, she felt she would do whatever she could to keep the child safe. Except…that meant killing the old man. She could never do that. Without meaning to, she looked at him again.
He spoke in a raspy, weary whisper. “Just do it.”
His permission weakened her resolve. Queasiness and fatigue and fright were all weighing her down, making her body tremble…she couldn’t think…Of course she couldn’t do it…but the little girl…
Captain Lerrip’s expression hardened. “Answer quickly.”
Answer. You can’t. You can’t do it. She made eye contact and shook her head.
An enraged curse. His fist knocking her to the ground as light exploded in her vision. Her body scrambling to reach Alili, to protect her…too late. She caught a glimpse of Lerrip removing his belt before she was dragged from the room, screaming until her voice cracked and she couldn’t scream anymore. Mute, she writhed in the grips of the three men that detained her. Still she was carried away, down the halls, into the empty prison and was thrown into her cell. The door slammed shut behind her.
She paced. Walking the meager length of the space again, again, again, again. Crying. Stemming her tears and glaring at the floor. Losing resolve and finding herself hugging her knees to her chest, sobbing.
She had no idea how much time passed. Enough that she ran out of tears, shoulders sagging in exhaustion, body as heavy as if it was made of lead. By the time she reacted to the figure approaching her cell and opening the door, she barely had time to catch Alili as Lerrip flung her carelessly inside. “This is what your insolence causes, girl.” The door was locked. Lerrip was gone.
Talea gathered Alili in her arms. Seeing the welts on the girl’s back brought a wave of pain as tangible as if she’d received them. A whimper of pain from Alili brought fresh tears to her eyes. She hugged the girl close and forced whispers past her aching throat. Whispers that it would be okay, that she was safe now, that Talea was going to take care of her. All the reassuring lies she could think of.
15
Reality and Morality
A syjgon and their blasted caves. Yhkon squinted at the small valley below him. The main entrance, a side entrance, a miniscule opening that could have been an entrance…not much to work with. And who was to know how many men were inside or how big the cavern was?
He glanced sideways to where Grrake was frowning. “Thoughts?”
“Hard to tell much,” was all the older Warden said.
“Difficult to breach, to be sure.” Dranin commented on his left. “But doable, I think. All we need is to get in, get her, and get out. We don’t need to conquer it.”
Conquering it, making every man in there pay for their crimes, didn’t sound so unappealing to Yhkon. Under different circumstances, he would have been tempted to try it. Not under these circumstances. “Right. Grrake and I will be responsible for finding her. Dranin, you and some of your men will get us in there, perhaps with Tarol’s help. Haeric will stay back to protect the other kids and perhaps lead some sort of distraction outside. Sound good?”
“As good as we got,” Dranin agreed. “Where do our other three lightning-throwing teenagers play into this plan?”
I
t was a question he was asking himself. Was it better to risk letting the Asyjgon know there were more with the ability, to use that ability to guarantee success? Or should they keep them hidden?
Grrake ventured a response. “Perhaps we avoid showing their abilities, unless we absolutely need to.”
Yhkon nodded. After a final scan of the quiet base, he backed away from the ledge that served as their lookout. “Let’s get back.” He walked away from the cliff that had served as their vantage point, with Grrake and Dranin trailing. They returned to where they’d tied their celiths, mounted and rode the mile to where the rest of the group was camped.
Naylen was after him in an instant, wanting a report. Wylan wasn’t far behind, though he was less demanding about it. Yhkon told them the layout—or at least what could be seen of it—the surrounding terrain, his estimates on numbers, and the plan they’d hatched.
“I want to come with you and Grrake,” were the first words out of Wylan’s mouth as he finished.
“To find her?” Yhkon exchanged looks with Grrake. Does he still not trust us? Think we’re going in there to make sure the Asyjgon got the job done?
“Yeah. If something goes wrong, or there’s more men in there than you think,” he put his hands in his pockets, “I can get you out of a bind.”
Well, that’s fair. If they found themselves in a room full of three dozen Asyjgon, Wylan’s presence would boost their chances of survival quite nicely. “Fair enough, the three of us, then.”
Naylen, Tarol, Haeric, and the other Elikwai gave their input and asked their questions. It was decided that the twins and Tarol would serve as the primary distraction, hopefully to draw some of the Asyjgon out of the cave. Naylen would be hidden somewhere where he could help with his archery. Brenly would be nearby, waiting with the celiths. Haeric and five of the Elikwai would start a skirmish somewhere else in the cave as a diversion of sorts, while the remaining Elikwai and Dranin would get Yhkon, Grrake, and Wylan as far in as possible before the three broke off to find Talea. As soon as they had her, they would get to the celiths and get out of there.
