As sword points pricked my back, I watched Valek, expecting him to spring
into action during the whole miserable trip to Brazell's holding cells. I waited for
him to blur into motion as they stripped and searched us, enduring the
humiliation of being prodded and poked by rough hands as they confiscated my
backpack, switchblade and necklace. Losing my clothing didn't upset me as
much as losing Valek's butterfly and my amulet.
I prepared for a sudden jailbreak when we were led down into the prison,
and was still waiting as we were shoved into adjoining cells.
I held my breath as the heavy metal lock clanged shut on our underground
chambers. The soldiers tossed our clothing in through the bars. Then they left,
abandoning us to blackness. I fumbled with my uniform, trying to button my
shirt in the dark.
Here I was again. A nightmare turned real as we went through the
guardroom, down one flight of steps, and into Brazell's small dungeon, which
only contained eight cells, four on each side of a short corridor. Valek and I were
in the two cells closest and to the left of the steps. A familiarly loud, rancid
stench permeated the prison. The thick, silty air so overpowered my senses that
it took me a while to realize we were the only occupants.
Unable to bear the sudden quiet, I asked, "Valek?"
"What?"
"Why didn't you fight the guards? I would have helped you."
"Eight men had drawn swords pointed at my chest. Any sudden movement
and I would have been skewered. I'm flattered that you think I could win against
those odds. Four armed opponents, maybe, but eight is definitely too many."
I could hear the amusement in Valek's voice.
"Then we pick the locks and make our escape?" My confidence was based
on the fact that Valek was a master assassin and trained fighter, a man who
wouldn't stay confined for long.
"That would be ideal, provided we had something to pick them with,"
Valek replied, dashing my hopes.
I searched my cell with my hands. Finding nothing but filthy straw, rat
droppings and unrecognizable muck, I sank to the floor with my back against the
one stone wall I shared with Valek.
After a long moment, Valek asked, "Was that your fate? If you hadn't
killed Reyad, were you slated to be chained to the floor, mindless?"
The image of those captives burned in my mind. My flesh crawled. For the
first time, I was content to have failed Reyad's tests.
As I thought more about them, I remembered a comment Irys had made
regarding a magician's ability to steal magic from others. Finally, the
significance of the women and men sitting in circles hit me. Mogkan's extra
power came from those chained captives. Brazell, Reyad and Mogkan must have
screened the children of the orphanage for magical potential. Then, while
experimenting on them, Mogkan had wiped their minds clean, leaving them
mindless vessels from which to draw more power.
"I think Brazell and Reyad were determined to reduce me to that mental
state. But I endured." I explained my theory about the captives to Valek.
"Tell me what happened to you," Valek said, his voice tight.
I paused. Then my tale flowed from my lips, in bits and pieces at first, but
the words soon gushed with the same speed as the tears streaking down my face.
I didn't spare him any details. I didn't gloss over the unpleasant parts. Telling
Valek everything about my two years as a laboratory rat, Reyad's tortures and
torments, the cruel games, the humiliations, the beatings, the longing to be good
for Reyad, and, finally, the rape that led to murder, I purged myself of the black
stain of Reyad. I felt light-headed with the release.
Valek remained silent throughout my disclosure, neither commenting nor
questioning. Finally, with ice crystallizing in his voice he said, "Brazell and
Mogkan will be destroyed."
Promise or a threat, I couldn't tell, but with all of Valek's force behind it, it
was more than idle talk.
As if they had heard their names, Brazell and Mogkan stepped through the
main door of the dungeon. Four guards holding lanterns escorted them. They
stopped at our cells.
"It's good to see you back where you belong," Brazell said to me. "My
desire to feel your blood on my hands has tempted me, but Mogkan has kindly
informed me of your fate, should you not receive your antidote." Brazell paused,
and smiled with pure satisfaction. "Seeing my son's killer writhing in
excruciating pain will be better justice. I'll visit later to hear your screams. And
if you beg me, I might put you out of your misery, just so I can breathe in the hot
scent of your blood."
Brazell's gaze bored into Valek's cell. "Disobeying a direct order is a
capital offense. Commander Ambrose has signed your death warrant. Your
hanging is scheduled for noon tomorrow." Brazell cocked his head, appraising
Valek like a thoroughbred. "I think I shall have your head stuffed and mounted.
You'll make an effective decoration in my office when I become Commander."
Laughing, Brazell and Mogkan left the dungeon. The darkness that flowed
in after them felt even heavier than before. It pressed against my chest, giving
me a tight, panicky feeling around my ribs. I paced my cell. My emotions swung
from sheer terror to overwhelming despondency. I kicked at the bars, threw
straw into the air and pounded on the walls.
"Yelena," Valek finally said, "settle down. Get some sleep; you'll need
your strength for tonight."
"Oh yeah, everyone needs to be well rested to die," I said, but regretted my
harshness when I remembered that Valek, too, faced death. "I'll try."
I lay on the foul straw, knowing it was futile to try and rest. How could
anyone sleep her last hours away?
Apparently, I could.
I woke with a cry. My nightmare about rats melded with reality as I felt a
warm, furry mass resting on my legs. Leaping to my feet, I kicked the rodent. It
crashed into the wall and skittered away.
"Nice nap?" Valek asked.
"I've had better. My sleeping companion snored."
Valek grunted in amusement.
"How long was I out?"
"It's hard to tell without the sun. I'm guessing it's close to sunset."
I had received my last dose of antidote yesterday morning. That gave me
until tomorrow morning to live, but the symptoms of the poison would take hold
sometime tonight.
"Valek, I have a confess…" My throat closed. My stomach muscles
contracted with such severity that I felt as if someone were trying to rip them
from my body.
"What's the matter?"
"Stomach cramp from hell," I said, still gasping even though the pain had
subsided. "Is this the start?"
"Yes. They begin slowly, but soon the convulsions will be continuous."
Another wave of agony hit, and I crumpled to the floor. When it passed, I
crawled to my straw bed, waiting for the next assault. Unable to endure the
anticipation in silence, I said, "Valek, talk to me. Tell me something to distract
me."
"Like what?"
"I don't care. Anything."
"Here's something you can take some comfort from—there's no poison
called Butterfly's Dust."
"What?" I wanted to scream at him, but a doubling-over, vomit-inducing convulsion hit, causing my abdominal muscles to feel as if they were being
shredded with a knife.
When I was sensible again, Valek explained, "You're going to want to die,
wish you were already dead, but in the end you'll be quite alive."
"Why tell me now?"
"The mind controls the body. If you believed that you were going to die,
then you might have died from that conviction alone."
"Why wait until now to tell me?" I demanded, furious. He could have
relieved my anguish.
"A tactical decision."
I bit back a nasty reply. I tried to see his logic; to put myself in his place.
My training sessions with Ari and Janco had included strategy and tactics. Janco
had compared sparring to a card game. "Keep your best moves close to your
chest and only use them when you've nothing left," he had said.
An opportunity to escape might have presented itself during the day. In that
case Valek wouldn't have to show his last card and tell me about the poison.
"What about the cramps?" I asked just as another one seized my body. I
rolled into a tight ball hoping to relieve some of the pain, but to no avail.
"Withdrawal symptoms."
"From what?"
"Your so-called antidote," Valek said. "It's an interesting concoction. I use
it to make someone sick. As the potion wears off, it produces stomach cramps
worthy of a day in bed. It's perfect for putting someone temporarily out of
commission without killing him. If you continue to drink it, then the symptoms
are forestalled until you stop."
Of all the books I had studied, I didn't recall reading about a tonic like that.
"What's the name?"
"White Fright."
The knowledge that I wasn't going to die erased the frightened panic and
helped me to endure the pain. I viewed each contraction as a step that must be
taken in order for me to be free of the substance.
"What about Butterfly's Dust?" I asked.
"Doesn't exist. I made it up. It sounded good. I needed some threat to keep
the food tasters from running away without using guards or locked doors."
An unwelcome thought popped into my head. "Does the Commander know
it's a ruse?" If he did, Mogkan would also know.
"No. He believes you've been poisoned."
During the night, it was hard for me to remember that I had not been
poisoned. Torturous cramps refused to release me. I crawled around the cell, retching and screaming.
I was vaguely aware, at one point, of Brazell and Mogkan gloating over me.
I didn't care that they watched. I didn't care that they laughed. All I cared about
was finding a position that would alleviate the pain.
Finally, I fell into an exhausted sleep.
I woke lying on the muck-covered floor of the cell. My right arm stretched
through the bars. I marveled more over the fact that I clutched Valek's hand than
the fact that I was alive.
"Yelena, are you all right?" The concern in Valek's voice was evident.
"I think so," I replied with a rasp. My throat burned with thirst.
A clank rang out as someone unlocked the prison door.
"Play dead," Valek whispered, releasing my hand. "Try to get them close to
my cell," he instructed as two guards came into the dungeon. I yanked my
Valek-warmed hand into the cell, and poked my ice-cold left hand out just as the
men descended the stairs.
"Damn! The stench down here's worse than the latrine after a brew party,"
said the guard holding the lantern.
"You think she's dead?" the second guard asked.
With my face to the wall, I closed my eyes and held my breath as the
yellow light swept my body.
The guard touched my hand. "Cold as snow-cat piss. Let's drag her out
before she starts to rot. You think it smells bad now…" The snap of the lock was
followed by a squeak of metal as the cell door opened.
I concentrated on being a dead weight while the guard dragged me out by
my feet. When the light moved away from me, I risked a peek. The guard with
the lantern walked ahead to light the way, leaving my upper body in darkness.
As we passed Valek's cell, I seized the bars with both hands.
"Ugh. Hold up, she's stuck."
"On what?" the lantern guard asked.
"I don't know. Come back here with that bloody light."
I released my grip, hooking my arm inside the cell.
"Back off," the lantern guard warned Valek.
His meaty hand tugged at my elbow. Then he grunted softly. I opened my
eyes in time to see the lantern's light extinguish as it toppled to the ground.
"What the hell?" the other man exclaimed. He was still holding my feet. He
backed away from Valek's bars.
I bent my legs, pulling my body close to his boots. He yelped with surprise
when I grabbed his ankles. He tripped and fell back.
The sickening crunch of bone striking stone wasn't what I expected. His body went limp. I stood on shaky legs.
Hearing a thud and the jingle of keys, I turned back in time to see Valek
lighting the lantern. The other guard was propped against the bars, his head
cocked at an unnatural angle.
In the weak glow, I gazed at the prone form at my feet. The soldier's head
had struck the edge of the bottom step. A black liquid began to pool around my
boots. I had just killed another man. I began to tremble. A fourth man had died
because of me. Had the robbing of my soul reduced me to a heartless killer? Did
Valek feel any remorse or guilt when he took a life? I watched him through a
veil of blood.
Efficient as always, Valek stripped the dead guards of their weapons.
"Wait here," he instructed. Unlocking the main door of the prison, he
sprang through the entrance to the guardroom.
Shouts, grunts and the sound of flesh striking flesh reached my ears as I
waited on the stairway. No remorse, no guilt, Valek did what he had to for his
side to win.
When Valek motioned me to join him, I saw that blood had splattered on
his face, chest and arms. Three guards, either unconscious or dead, were strewn
about the room.
My backpack sat on a table, its contents scattered about. I stuffed
everything back in while Valek tried to open the remaining locked door between
freedom and us. Although meager, I wanted my possessions, including my
butterfly and amulet, back. Once I wrapped the chain around my neck, I felt
strangely optimistic.
"Damn," Valek said.
"What?"
"The Captain has the only key to this door. He will open it when it's time to
change the guards."
"Try these." I handed Valek my picks.
He grinned.
While he worked on the lock, I found a pitcher of water and a wash barrel.
The fear of being caught couldn't override the desire to rinse off my face and
hands. But that was not enough. The need to rid myself of the stench of vomit
and blood overpowered me. Soon, I was dumping buckets of water over my head
until I was soaked through. I drained half the water pitcher before I thought to
offer some to Valek. He stopped to drink, then continued to pick the lock.
Finally, it popped open. Valek peered out into the hallway. "Perfect. No
guards." He pulled the door wide. "Let's go."
Taking my hand and a lantern, Valek turned away from our only escape, and led me back down into the prison, pausing to leave the door to the cells wide
open as well.
"Are you insane?" I whispered as he dragged me toward the last cell.
"Freedom's that way." I pointed.
He ignored me as he unlocked the door. "Trust me. This is the perfect
hiding spot. The mess we left will soon be discovered, the open doors proof
we've fled." Valek pushed me ahead of him into the cell. "Search parties will be
sent out. When all the soldiers have left the manor, we'll make our move. Until
then, we lay low."
Valek made a makeshift bed of straw in the far corner of the cell. After
extinguishing and hiding the lantern, he yanked me down. I curled on my side
with my back to him, shivering in my wet clothes. Valek pulled some straw on
top of us and wrapped an arm around me. He drew me close. I stiffened at the
contact, but his body heat warmed me, and I soon relaxed into his grip.
At first, every tiny noise made my heart race. But I shouldn't have worried;
the commotion that ensued when our escape was discovered was deafening.
Angry and accusing voices shouted. Search parties were organized and
dispatched. It was agreed that we had an hour head start, but Brazell and
Mogkan argued on which direction we had taken.
"Valek's probably retreating west to well-known territory," Brazell stated
with authority.
"Southisthe logical choice," Mogkan insisted. "We have the Commander;
there's nothing they can do. They're running for their lives, not toward some
strategic position. I'll take a horse and scan the forest with my magic."
Valek harrumphed in my ear, and whispered, "They actually think I would
abandon the Commander. They have no concept of loyalty."
When the prison had been quiet and empty for a few hours, I grew bored
and anxious to be gone. The door to the cells had remained wide open, allowing
a faint light to illuminate our surroundings.
"Can we go now?" I asked.
"Not yet. I believe it's still daylight. We'll wait until dark."
To help pass the time, I asked Valek how he had become involved with the
Commander. I thought it an unintrusive question, but he grew so quiet that I
regretted asking it.
After a long pause, he spoke. "My family lived in Icefaren Province before
it was renamed MD–1. A particularly harsh winter collapsed the building that
housed my father's leather business, ruining all of his equipment. He needed to
replace his equipment to stay in business, but the soldiers who came to our house
to collect the tax money wouldn't listen to reason." Valek's arm tightened around me.
A minute stretched longer before he continued. "I was just a skinny little
kid at the time, but I had three older brothers. They were about Ari's size and
had his strength. When my father told the soldiers that if he paid the full tax
amount he wouldn't have enough money left to feed his family—" Valek paused
for several heartbeats "—they killed my brothers. They laughed and said,
'Problem solved. Now you have three less mouths to feed.'" The muscles on
Valek's arm trembled with tension.
"Naturally, I wanted revenge, but not on the soldiers. They were only
messengers. I wanted the King. The man who had allowed his soldiers to murder
my brothers in his name. So I learned how to fight, and I studied the assassin's
art until I was unbeatable. I traveled around, using my new skills to earn money.
The royal upper class was so corrupt they paid me to kill each other.
"Then I was commissioned to kill a young man named Ambrose, whose
speeches called for rebellion and made the royals nervous. He'd become
popular, gathering large crowds. People started to resist the King's doctrines.
Then Ambrose disappeared, hiding his growing army and employing covert
operations against the monarchy.
"My payment to find and kill Ambrose was significant. I ambushed him,
expecting to have my knife in his heart before he could draw breath to cry out.
But he blocked the blow, and I found myself fighting for my life, and losing.
"Instead of killing me, though, Ambrose carved a C on my chest with my
own knife. The same weapon, by the way, that I later used to kill the King. Then
Ambrose declared himself my Commander, and announced that I now worked
for him and no one else. I agreed, and I promised him that if he got me close
enough to kill the King, I would be loyal to him forever.
"My first assignment was to kill the person who had paid me to assassinate
Ambrose. Throughout these years, I've watched him achieve his goals with a
single-minded determination and without excess violence and pain. He hasn't
been corrupted by power or greed. He's consistent and loyal to his people. And
there's been no one in this world that I care for more. Until now."
I held my breath. It had been a simple, innocent question. I hadn't expected
such an intimate response.
"Yelena, you've driven me crazy. You've caused me considerable trouble
and I've contemplated ending your life twice since I've known you." Valek's
warm breath in my ear sent a shiver down my spine.
"But you've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood and seized my
heart."
"That sounds more like a poison than a person," was all I could say. His confession had both shocked and thrilled me.
"Exactly," Valek replied. "You have poisoned me." He rolled me over to
face him. Before I could make another sound, he kissed me.
Long suppressed desire flared to life as I wrapped my arms around his neck,
returning his kiss with equal passion.
My response was a delightful surprise. I had feared, after Reyad's abuse,
my body would clench tight in horror and revulsion. But the intertwining of our
bodies linked our minds and spirits together.
The distant sound of music vibrated in the air. Pulsing, the magical
harmony soon rose to a crescendo and encompassed us like a warm blanket. The
prison cell and filthy straw dropped away from our awareness. Whiteness draped
in snowy silk surrounded us. On this plane we were equals, partners. Our souls
bonded. His pleasure was my ecstasy. My blood pumped in his heart.
Utter bliss came in short snatches, although, Valek and I were happy to try
again. We had merged, our minds had become one. I drew in his essence,
feasting on the feel of his body in mine, exhilarating in the caress of his skin
against mine. He filled the hollow emptiness inside my heart with joy and light.
Even though we lay in the grubby straw and faced an uncertain future, a deep
hum of contentment vibrated throughout my body.