The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Two: Beyond the Veil (99 page)

Going in for another lunge Aiva caught sight of what looked like a smile pass over the man’s lips. A hard push came from behind, sending her toppling forward at the man’s feet. In a clatter of metal against wood her sword fell from her hand. Desperately she reached for it, horrified to see the man’s foot slide it further away from her, laughing maniacally at her attempts to get to her feet. Someone else was at her back. They grabbed onto her ankles, binding them with what felt to be a thick rope, her body dragged along the wooden floorboards. She tried to stop the motion, fingernails digging at the wood, slivers sliding underneath the surface of her nails, the pain not registering in her mind over the fear of who held her.

Engrossed in the battle no one seemed to take notice of her. Cadell had been lured away by Ireni. Through her panic Aiva searched the area for him, finding no sign of his presence or Edric’s. She wasn’t sure where her father had gone though she could only assume he was somewhere near the back of the ship helping to deter the pirates from reaching Shaelyn’s hiding place. No one was there to help her. She would have to figure something out on her own.

Her fear rose with every step her captor took. She reached for everything in her path to try and halt their progress forward, her fingers unable to maintain their grip. They were closer to the rail than Aiva realized. The burly man kept close, his hands prying her fingers from the rungs of the rail while his partner tried to lift her onto the gangplank. She couldn’t let them take her onto Ireni’s ship. Struggling against the two men that held her she screamed in hopes of catching the attention of someone. Anyone who might be able to help her. The sound became a shrill yelp at the burly man’s boot connecting with her head.

Twinkling white lights shot across her vision the way they had when Odell struck her at the North Pointe prison, only this time the spots blotted out most of the images around her. Nausea threatened, the feeling of her fingers losing their hold on the rail sending a new wave of fear over her at the realization that she was being taken. Her senses were skewed from the impact of the man’s kick. Arms flailing wildly she tried to lash out, met with nothing but empty air.

She was vaguely aware of the men moving with greater speed. Shaking her head she tried to clear the haze that covered her vision. They were no longer on the Tanispan ship. It took only a brief glimpse of her surroundings to recognize the differences. She was being carried down a flight of steep, rickety wooden stairs into the bowels of the ship. The men laughed while throwing her into what looked to be some kind of cell, the iron bars creating a cage around her, tossed like a ragdoll onto the hard floor. Shackles were placed over her wrists, the cool metal tight and uncomfortable against her skin, preventing her from continuing the aimless flails of her arms. The burly man gave a final blow to her stomach with his foot.

Racked with pain she curled into a ball. She couldn’t breathe. The men were leaving, creaking hinges signaling the door of the iron cage shutting behind them. Fighting through tears she scrambled on her knees to the door, hands gripped around the bars in a desperate attempt to get free. It was locked. “Let me out of here!” she shouted. In her delirium she staggered to her feet, stumbling from one side of the cell to the other. No one was there. No one could hear her.
Callum and Gadiel will be nearly finished debilitating the ship and they will give the order to burn it. This ship is going to sink to the bottom of the sea. I’m going to die…

“Someone, help me!” she cried, the sound more frenetic than before. Angrily she threw her weight against the iron bars as if it would weaken their hold. This was her fault.
If I hadn’t insisted on fighting…
Callum tried to convince her not to. Why hadn’t she listened?

Because it was important for her to help. It was better to die here with honor than to hide away when she was capable of fighting. But the battle wasn’t lost yet. Someone was sure to come to check on her. Ireni would want to gloat over her victory. There was still time for her to find a way out. It would require perfect timing and a good plan. The question was what that plan was going to be.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Aiva sat in the confines of her cell, listening to the pounding of feet overhead. People were shouting. Whatever was going on, it didn’t sound promising. Someone was coming closer, their footsteps loud, magnified by the echo through the lower deck. One pair of steps at first, then two. Her heart leapt into her throat, recognizing the pain-filled voice that yelled out while being dragged down the stairs. In a rustle of chains Aiva crawled to the door of her cell, peering into the darkness toward the entrance where the noise was coming from.

There in the dim light from above she saw Gadiel’s face come into view, arms bound behind his back, carried along the hall by two men, unfamiliar to Aiva. They came to a stop outside her cell, opening it only long enough to throw Gadiel unceremoniously to the floor, locking it again behind him.

When their eyes met Gadiel gasped, the agony visible in his widened gaze to see Aiva bound in the cell with him. “Aiva, what happened?” he breathed, struggling to sit up without the use of his arms. “You were supposed to stay on the ship – ”

“I did,” she interjected, her discomfort building at the realization that the plan must have failed. Had they gotten Callum also? Were the pirates winning? “Where is Callum? I thought you were with him.”

“I was. We were on our way back to the ship. I was behind Callum when one of the pirates came out of nowhere and dragged me back. I doubt Callum has noticed my absence. It happened pretty fast – but that doesn’t explain how you got here. We need to get you out of this place.”

“Good luck. I’ve been trying to get free for a while now. The bars are solid and the lock is sturdy.”

“Maybe if we both use our weight against it…”

It was worth a try. The rope which bound her ankles hindered her balance, preventing her from taking larger steps. Shuffling along, she made her way over to Gadiel, her shackled hands helping to lift him to his feet. She doubted the effectiveness of the tactic. They were both far from capable of gaining the strength and power which might stand a chance at breaking the hinges on the door. At this point, there was nothing left to lose. She was willing to attempt anything.

Starting at the back of the cell they ran forward, the weight of their bodies slamming hard against the iron bars. The impact jarred them both, sending them tumbling to the floor, unable to catch themselves in their bound state. “That was more humiliating than helpful,” Aiva grumbled, her arm throbbing from where it struck the door. “What are the chances of the others coming for us?”

“At this point? Slim,” Gadiel frowned. “They will focus on placing distance between the ships. If anyone notices us missing, it will be Callum, and likely not until he is attempting to begin the final assault which will inevitably send us to the bottom of the sea. If we are lucky, our absence will be noted before the first rounds are fired.”

Another set of footsteps along the stairs drew them from their conversation, anxious to see who it was. Deep in the back of her mind Aiva knew it wouldn’t be Callum. Some part of her continued to hope. She wasn’t ready to give up. Someone would notice her gone. They had to. Edric would be looking for her once the ship started to pull away. If he couldn’t find her, he was sure to say something to their father.

To her chagrin it was another unfamiliar face that rounded the corner. In his hands he carried a Vor’shai man bearing a doublet similar to that which Aiva wore, his mouth bloody and swollen, body limp in the hands of his captor.

“Jaron,” Gadiel grabbed onto the bars, calling out to the man in the pirate’s arms. The soldier he called Jaron didn’t move, unconscious, barely clinging to life from the wounds he sustained.

Behind them on the stairs Aiva’s heart crashed inside her chest to see Ireni’s unmistakable figure. How had she gotten away? Cadell wouldn’t have let her run so easily. Every worst possible scenario ran through her head. She could see Callum returning to the ship to find his father slain at the hands of this wretched woman. It pained her to think. The General was invincible in her mind. She didn’t want to consider the possibility of him being dead.

“Well, well,” Ireni smiled, pausing in front of Aiva’s cell to stare down at her and Gadiel. The sparkle in her eye was devious. Evil. There wasn’t a decent bone in that woman’s body. Aiva had never seen anyone so completely and utterly rotten. How could Callum have ever thought himself to feel anything for someone like her? “When they told me you were down here, I almost didn’t believe them. Yet, here you are! It’s the best gift my men could have gotten me. Now if only they could have presented your husband gagged and bound as well. The bastard is going to owe me two ships when this is over.”

Aiva wanted to laugh. Although her own predicament was dangerous, she found a mild humor to think that Callum had caused Ireni even the slightest upset. “When he is done you will be at the bottom of the sea with the remains of your precious little boat,” she scoffed.

Baring her teeth with a menacing hiss Ireni slammed her fist against the bars, laughing to see Aiva flinch. Aiva chided herself, frustrated at having allowed Ireni to sense even the slightest weakness. “Not before I string the remains of your pathetic body to the masts for him to see. I’m done playing games. I’ll get more satisfaction out of seeing you tortured and dead than I could out of simply ruining you. But I’m going to have some fun with it. My men are going to want a show.”

The burly man Aiva fought suddenly appeared at the door of the cell, opening it with a crooked grin. Gadiel attempted to place himself between Aiva and the door, pushed aside easily by the man’s meaty hand, unable to stop him from pulling Aiva out of the cell toward an open space near the back of the ship. Throwing her to the ground the man undid the shackles, his knee pressed into her back while working to refasten her wrists behind her. Ireni tossed him a rope which was quickly looped through the chain, the other end thrown over a beam at the ceiling. With a hard tug the man lifted Aiva from the floor by the rope at her wrists, the pain in her shoulders excruciating, her face contorted in anguish, not wanting to scream but unable to keep from crying out.

“Let her go, Ireni!” Gadiel shouted from the cell, the sound of his weight being thrown against the bars echoing through the ship. Ireni laughed, calling for the man to raise Aiva higher.

“I think he wants to join her,” she smirked evilly. “Bring him out. He can watch and wait his turn.”

Aiva’s vision blurred from the pain shooting through her arms. The pressure on her shoulders was more than she was prepared for. It aggravated the old wound she endured while in Carpaen, her right shoulder burning, the joint giving a loud crack as it popped under the strain of her weight. Her screams grew louder, ringing through the confines of the area.

Ireni brought a chair over to where Aiva hung. With a snap of her fingers the man holding Jaron dragged him to the seat, tying him to the wooden back. Gadiel was being carried by the burly pirate, held firm, unable to break free. At his constant struggle the man slammed him against the wall, blood trickling from Gadiel’s nose from the impact, dazed. For a terrifying moment Aiva saw his eyes roll backward in their sockets. He fought against unconsciousness, head dropping forward, the weight seeming too much for his neck in his attempts to lift it again.

“Do you want to know what pirates do for fun?” Ireni asked, almost innocent in her tone while making her way to stand beside Jaron. She held a rope in her hands, leaning to carefully weave it between the fingers on Jaron’s right hand, holding it up for Aiva to see. “We are feared for a reason. Plundering. Murder. But when it comes to our enemies, we prefer to enjoy their death. I like to hear them scream. Beg for mercy. I don’t grant it, of course, but it brings me great pleasure to hear them cry for me to spare them. You’d be surprised the things supposed heroes offer in exchange for their lives. Let’s see what your brave soldier here has to say.”

Gripping the end of the rope tightly in her hand Ireni closed her eyes. Aiva recognized what she attempted, noting the difficulty the task held for her. The internal energy within an Esai was not nearly as strong as that of a full-blooded Vor’shai. It was harder for them to control. The time Ireni spent at sea likely left her with little opportunity to hone the abilities.

It didn’t take much for Ireni to accomplish the minor goal she strove for. To Aiva’s horror she watched the rope burst into flames under Ireni’s focus, the fire working its way quickly toward Jaron’s hand. Aiva tried to look away. She couldn’t bear to watch.

“Fix her eyes!” Ireni shouted to one of the men standing near the rope that held Aiva in place. Instantly Aiva felt a firm grasp tighten around her hair, lifting her head to stare at the chair in front of her where Jaron was seated. Her screams mingled with his, woken from his stupor by the heat of the fire which raced along the rope between his fingers. She wanted to vomit. Never had she seen anything so grotesque. To witness a man tortured in such a way. Aiva was almost grateful that the pain became too much for Jaron, lapsing him into unconsciousness again as the fire began to die away, the flesh around his hand burnt to the bone.

Bile burned the back of her throat at the sight. She wanted to fight against the rope to get away, the pain in her shoulders preventing her from moving at all. Her fingers tingled. Numb from the strain placed on the tendons and nerves. Ireni laughed at the deathly pallor of Aiva’s face.

Losing interest in Jaron, she made her way to stand in front of Aiva. Almost nonchalant in her actions, she began to undo the buttons along Aiva’s doublet, the smirk on her face revealing the sick pleasure she took in seeing the grimace which creased Aiva’s usually gentle features. From her waist she drew forth a wicked looking whip, one which Aiva had heard tales of but never seen with her own eyes before. It was made of rope, nine strands extended from the handle, each knotted at the end. Her heart fluttered fearfully at the sight of it.

At Ireni’s attempts to remove Aiva’s doublet, one of the men retrieved a dagger from his boot, reaching up to begin cutting at the fabric. Aiva felt foolish that she even had time to worry about propriety in front of Gadiel. These pirates intended to torture and kill her. What did it matter if anyone saw her skin at a time like this? To her surprise Ireni stopped the man from cutting into the thin material which comprised the undershirt of her uniform. “That’s enough,” Ireni raised her hand to indicate the man to step away. “This is for my enjoyment, not yours. Now stand there and keep the rope firm. I need to make sure she bleeds enough that I can present my scourge to the Vor’shai Captain as proof of her suffering before death.”

Another tug on the rope at her wrists sent a new wash of pain throughout Aiva’s upper body. Eyes watering, she barely took note of Ireni moving to stand at her back, the first strike of the rope against her skin causing her to choke on her own screams. It struck with such speed and power that it cut through the fabric of her shirt. Each little knot sliced at her flesh. The second strike broke through Aiva’s senses with more clarity, her screams ringing in her head.

Across the room Gadiel resumed his struggle against the man holding him. Through her tears she could see the desperation in his eyes while he tried to reach her. His captor held firm, the bindings at his wrists leaving him with few options to defend. The lashes continued without mercy, Ireni’s laughter lost amidst Aiva’s anguished cries. Shadows began to darken her vision until she was certain consciousness would leave her. The next round of pain shocked her out of her agonized daze. It came from a sudden jerk of the ship, applying more pressure to her shoulders while causing Ireni to lose her footing, distracted from the next strike with a mumbled curse.

“Emmett,” Ireni growled to the man holding Gadiel. “Give that wretch to Howell and come with me. We might not be able to catch those bastards, but their ship will sink just as easily as ours. Get the torches and meet me at the ballistae line.”

For the first time since being brought to the holding area Aiva felt a glimmer of hope course through her. Ireni was leaving. If only she could get free! It would be easier to defend against the pirates and find her way off the ship if she could just get a hold of a sword. Not wanting to make her excitement noticeable, Aiva let her head hang in misery, the burning sensation in her back continuing to sting where the scourge had struck. She couldn’t focus on the pain. She couldn’t allow herself to give up. Not now.

The burly pirate handed Gadiel to the smaller male who had brought Jaron below deck. He made a final round past Aiva to make sure the rope binding her was secure before following Ireni down the hall to the stairs.

Gadiel’s head lifted to catch Aiva’s eye. In their brilliant green glow she could almost read the thoughts passing through his mind. He intended to break free. If he could get a solid hit on his new captor it would be enough to at least escape his grasp. The bindings at his wrists would create an issue beyond initial freedom, but it was the best chance they had.

Her chest heaved, breathing labored from the pain. A groan from Jaron caught her attention. Heart pounding, she watched him, willing him to open his eyes. All it would take was a single movement from him to distract the man Ireni called Howell. It was the opening they needed.

“Jaron,” she whispered, urging him into consciousness. “Jaron, can you stand? Can you come to me?”

“Silence, wench,” Howell shouted. “He can’t hear you. You’re wasting your breath.”

“Jaron, please. You can do it. It’s not that far,” she continued. His eyes were opening wider. In the depths of their golden glow she could see the understanding. Her words registered in his mind. She just needed him to have the energy to do what she asked.

With a strangled moan he tried to respond to her quiet pleas. Finding words impossible he began to shakily climb to his feet, the weight of the chair tied at his back hindering his progress.

“That’s it,” Gadiel added to the encouragement. “If you get to the Princess we can get you free.”