Scorched Treachery (9 page)

He was always so cryptic. I had never been around a Drak before. I had been born long after their extermination order was given, but Sain was
fascinating. I wasn’t sure if it was just his way, or an attempt to keep us all safe by keeping us in the dark. I wanted to smile, but I couldn’t find it in me. I couldn’t smile in a place like this – with my wrists and arms covered in blood, and my husband passed out beside me. Call me pessimistic, but I just couldn’t do it.

I leaned my head back against the bars, keeping my hand entwined with Talon’s.

“You will make it out of here safely, Wynifred.” I turned toward Sain, suddenly desperate for information, but he had already begun caring for Ryland.

“Ryland?” Sain asked, his voice soft as he ran his hands over Ryland’s side.

Ryland shuttered at his touch, his body racking with even bigger sobs.

“No more,” Ryland groaned, his voice more of a cry th
an actual words.

“No more what, Ryland?” Sain asked, his endless patience enduring.

“No more pain. She hurts me…hurts me…hurts me…” Ryland wrapped himself up in a ball, his fingers clawing at his curls.

“I hate seeing him like this,” Sain sighed as he attempted to stop Ryland’s frantic movements. “It’s so much easier when his mind is clear, before the nightmares.”

“Why is he calm then?” I asked, remembering how much more like himself he had seemed for those few moments in that other place.

“Because all of his soul is together, all of his heart is in one place. Now, like this, he is only part of who he
truly is. He is broken, ripped apart.”

“She hurts me…
hurts me…” Ryland continued to pant, his pained groans pulling Sain’s attention back to him.

“No, Ryland, no. She doesn’t hurt you. It’s all in your head
, remember? It isn’t really her.” Sain reached up and touched the boy’s hair, his fingers soft and gentle as he attempted to calm him. However, it had the opposite effect.

“Let me kill her!” Ryland’s voice roared through the small rock room, his body fighting against his chains as he moved from one barred wall to another, clawing, kicking, and grabbing at the bars in his attempt to escape.

“I’m going to kill her!” he roared, and I moved into the bars I was huddled against, my hands squeezing Talon’s as I pulled him toward me, desperate for some comfort.

“Not kill, Ryland. Save. You have to save her.” Sain pleaded, his volume increasing as he fought to convince Ryland otherwise. I could see his furtive looks toward the main door, his fear evident. Ryland’s voice was going to break through Sain’s weak shield, making our noise audible to those above.

Sain pleaded quietly with him, and my voice joined in, my body shifting toward him a fraction as I tried to steady him with my tone. I wasn’t sure he could take another beating so soon.

“It’s okay, Ryland. Calm down,” I pleaded. Ryland didn’t seem to hear
; he kept rattling the bars like a caged animal. He looked at anyone he could as he yelled for Joclyn’s death, his hands clawing and grinding through the air, Sain’s soft voice barely audible from behind him as he tried to comfort him from his own cell.

I looked toward the staircase, terrified that someone would hear him and come down, but no one came. So far, Sain’s shield was holding.  It was obvious we didn’t have much longer as Sain’s orb of light began to flicker and dim.

Ryland’s eyes began to droop as Sain’s repeated muttered comforts began to sink in. His movements slowed until he dropped to the ground, his breathing still erratic and labored, but his voice now silent.

“Save her,” he whispered, his voice strangely dead and monotone.

“No!” Sain suddenly yelled, the light disappearing. I stiffened at his outburst. I didn’t know much about Sain, but I did know this, he did not yell. He did not get scared.

I froze, my hands still intertwined with Talon’s as loud footsteps sounded on the stairs. I didn’t move as I attempted to regulate my breathing. I didn’t know what was happening, but Sain was scared and that was enough to terrify me. I laid down and rested my body as best I could, hoping that feigned sleep would be enough to keep them at bay, praying that they would not notice me.

Part of me wished I could re-shackle my wrists, yelling at me that that was Cail’s game the whole time, but it was too late to fix it now. So I laid still as voices began to filter down to us.

“I like this plan, master,” Cail said as he addressed Edmund, my insides turning to ice even more. “Trap her and dispose of her that way.”

“Or at least turn her into a weapon,” Edmund said, his voice light with a laugh. “Either way ends in her death, so what does it matter?”

A dim yellow light filtered through my eyelids, but I kept them closed in the hope that they wouldn’t notice me.

“And once she is dead,” Cail began, Edmund’s voice cutting him off quickly.

“The end of the Mortals,” Edmund finished, the sneer on his lips evident in his voice. “All I need is her blood.”

“Yes.”

Their voices were cut off by the deep grinding sound of a cell door opening. I tried to keep my shoulders relaxed but was not sure it worked.

“Get out of there old man.” I heard a kick and a grunt after Cail’s words. I closed my eyes tighter, not even wanting to imagine what might have just happened.

“So compliant now, Sain,” Edmund said, his voice full of the same taunting malice I had heard in Cail’s. “It’s no wonder. You want some of that delicious water don’t you? You can’t wait until I give you the mug.”

I heard a groan of deep guttural need come from Sain as they locked him in with Ryland.

“Will you do something else for me too? Do this and I will let you eat tomorrow.”

I tensed in the silence, every nerve in my body on alert as I fought the desire to turn and find out what was going on. I squeezed Talon’s hands, in a desperate attempt to alleviate my stress and wished the silence would end.

Then
it did, and I jumped. My body jerked as the sound cut through the silence in an ear splitting scream.

I recognized the scream at once, the same scream I had heard when Sain and Ryland had been forced to use the blood connection the past two nights, and obviously this one was no different.

The two howled, and I moved myself into the bars, my arms desperately grabbing at Talon as the screams died off.

“When will we end this, master?” Cail asked,
his voice almost sounding bored.

“Ovailia is due back tomorrow,” Edmund said, my shoulders tensing on their own at the sound of his voice. “Let us see what she has to tell us, and then we will make our final decisions. I still have many more tricks up my sleeve after all,” he chuckled. “Now, let us go make the little girl pay.”

“Yes, Master.”

I let their words wash over me. Something infinitely more important was taking all of my attention. Talon was squeezing back.

I
stared into Talon’s eyes, his beautiful brown eyes. I felt his thumb rub across the skin of my hand, as his other caressed every inch of the skin on my face, my neck. I wished I could move closer, I wished I could whisper in his ear, but I could still hear the guard pace in the dim blue near my head, the deep breathing of Sain and Ryland as they remained stuck inside the blood magic. I shifted my weight and moved closer to him, my hands clenching his.

Talon’s eyes had opened only moments after Edmund left. Cail, Ryland, and Sain were still in the cell, though none of their consciousnesses were present. I looked into Talon’s eyes, my shaky finger pressing to my lips as I begged him to be silent, my eyes
pleading with him to wait so I could answer everything under the protection of Sain’s shield.

I could see the fear in his eyes, the terror at the first thing that I was sure he noticed. There was no magic flowing through his veins. No fire as our skin connected, and although I watched him try several times, no
Tȍuha for us to retreat to.

His weak hand had moved to touch my face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he touched the tender skin. I fought the desire to look away. I didn’t want to see the pain in his eyes, the way his jaw tightened, the truth of
Edmund’s lie stabbing into him. He had kept me alive, but little more than that.

I wanted to tell him it was okay. I wanted to promise him that I was alive, and that was all th
at mattered, but my lips stayed closed, the words trapped in my throat as I kissed his hand, hoping that was enough for him to understand.

With no words to say, we lay beside each other, Talon still too weak to move much, me too sore to try. We spoke with the subt
le movements of fingers, a kiss - a promise, a glance – a vow. Soon the language of touch was not enough to say what we wanted to say, so we settled into each other, content to hold hands and stare, happy to simply see each other again.

I flinched when I heard the gasp, the groan, and the subtle laugh that escaped from my brother’s lips as he returned to reality.

“Well, that was fun,” he sighed, and Talon’s hand clenched against mine. I stared at him, begging him to say nothing, do nothing, praying he would get the message and that he wouldn’t even try to battle through the weakness in his body.

I laid still as I listened to stumbling feet and the grind of iron as Cail opened doors and shifted bodies around. I heard shackles replaced, doors closed, and saw a flash of red as the soul blade reflected
off the blue light Cail had brought with him and left with the guard.

“Anything interesting happen?” Cail asked, his voice moving closer to where we lay. I closed my eyes, hoping Talon followed suit, praying that we would simply look like we were sleeping.

“No, sir.”

“
Good. Come along. Let’s go join the bonfire and say goodbye to the last of the Skȓíteks.” Cail chuckled, and my shoulders tightened at his meaning. I didn’t want to think about the end of the massacre that was occurring only a few levels above us.

I waited until I was sure that they were far enough away before opening my eyes, unsurprised at the absolute darkness
surrounding us.

My fingers fumbled away from Talon’s hand until I found his face. I knew what was coming
, and I had an extremely brief window in which to act. My fingertips pressed into his cheek, the pads of my fingers following around his jaw until I moved him closer, pressing his face against the bars as my lips found the hollow cup of his ear. He winced at the pain that my movements had given him, his lips parting in a subtle gasp.

The pain passed
, and I felt him tense, waiting for me to say something. Still I waited; this had to be perfectly timed. I didn’t need to risk being heard. I waited, Talon’s heartbeat pulsing against my hand as I kept my palm against his neck.

A groan and an exhale
. Sain was awake.

I could count it like clockwork if I tried, but I didn’t wait.

“Don’t make any noise,” I whispered into his ear, hoping that he could understand me with the speed I was getting the words out. They could count my whispered mutterings as Ryland’s groans if I said them fast enough. “They beat you if you talk. I am okay. I love you.”

I wish I could have said more, and I knew the time would come that I would be able to, but now was not it. The scream of agony I had grown used to opened up through the jail. The sound echoed and grew, Sain’s whispered pleas adding to the noise as Talon clung to my hand, his fear at the sound evident.

“It’s okay,” I said through the yells, hoping it was loud enough for Talon to hear but no one else. 

“She’s okay, Ryland. No one is hurting you. You are safe. She is safe. Joclyn is safe. She loves you, Ryland. It’s okay.” Sain repeated
the phrase continually, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough. The footsteps were already approaching, Sain’s words halted as he backed away from his friend.

The grind of metal, the whimpering, the crying and the sound of flesh on flesh
, I heard it all, and I felt Talon’s tears as he heard it for the first time. As silence took over the cell, Ryland’s breathing equalized, the whimpers leaving him and unconsciousness took over. The grind of metal repeated, and then there was silence, the long silence that stretched into the black. I clung to Talon as Ryland’s breathing changed to the deep pulse of sleep. Sain joined him, and reluctantly, even I fell into sleep, the darkness giving me no other option. The brutal reality of my life gave me no other escape.

It was the first night I dreamed since I had been imprisoned. I would have expected the dream to focus on the brutal torture of the little girl, but no, it was the meadow again. The girl danced through the daisies and poppies, her dress spinning as she twirled.

I watched her as her image moved from one scene to another before it shifted to an old-style market. I fought the urge to laugh, my dreams taking me to a medieval fair. The girl ran before me, her hair laced with wildflowers as she weaved her way through the crowd, her body jumping around as if I was watching a scratched DVD.

“Mama!” she yelled happily, and my heart clenched. Her voice was beautiful, so sweet and innocent. “They have chocolate, mama! Papa, papa, come see!”

The image jumped. The Henry the Eighth wanna-be flashed as he smiled at me, his lips moving, but once again no words coming through. He suddenly appeared several feet in front of me, standing next to the little girl, pieces of chocolate in his hands.

Papa? Mama? I fought the confusion that threatened to overtake me. I pushed the need to know more
aside and just focused on the girl, desperate to take something beautiful with me from the dream. I needed something happy to hold on to when morning came and I awoke on a cold stone floor.

“Here, Wynifred,” the man said, suddenly closer as he handed me a large piece of chocolate. He smiled
, and I felt my cheeks turn up in a laugh. No, no laughing. I wanted to look back to the girl, but I couldn’t, there was only the man. Once again, I had no control.

The vision jumped again. This time the man was by my side, the girl back dancing in the meadow.

“We should go,” he said, his voice repeating what I had already heard. This scene, those words, this imagery, I had already had this dream before.

“Go where?” my voice said. I tried to fight the words, but they came automatically, whether I wanted them to or not.

The image of the girl jumped a bit, her dancing moving statically as she appeared and reappeared.

“We can run,” he said, and I felt his hand on my shoulder. My body turned to face him, the pleading in his eyes cutting through me, but I knew the emotion wasn’t my own. I wanted to yell at him for taking my eyes away from the beautiful girl again.

“He would find us,” my voice was simple, defeated.

“He will kill her.”

“I know.” My vision flashed once, twice, and again and again. The images changed from the market, to the man in the meadow, a walk by the lake, and more, flash after flash.

I wanted to scream for it to stop
, but I had no control over this version of me in the dream. The flashes continued until I woke up, screaming.

I heard my own voice fill the dungeon, heard Sain yell something over my screams, and then felt Talon’s large hand clasp over my mouth. He pulled me against the bars, the gritty texture of his skin and the pain of the bars against my back alerting me to where I
actually was and what danger I had just put myself in. My scream stopped as quickly as it had come.

I
t was not my scream we had to worry about now. My yell had awakened Ryland. His animal instinct took over, and his wails filled the air that mine had so recently vacated. Talon tensed as Ryland yelled and howled. He clanged his chains against the bars and rammed his head into them repeatedly.

“Let me at her!” he screamed. “Hurt…hurt…hurt…”

I could feel Talon’s fear escalate as he grasped me to him tighter, his arms weak enough that it only felt like a gentle tug. He had heard Ryland scream once before, but it had been nothing like this. Ryland’s panic at being awoken had opened up into a full blown attack. His messed up brain had unlocked, and he rambled and mumbled and pleaded and yelled.

“I have to save her,” he howled, his chains colliding with the bars of his
cell loudly. “Protect her…I have to hurt her…”

“Leave him,” I heard Sain hiss through the dark, and my tension grew. I watched what little movement I could make out, Talons arms encircling me and holding me close to him, when a bright yellow light suddenly ignited the prison.

The light burned my eyes, and I shied away from it, my hands moving to cover my face in an attempt to keep the light out.

“Who woke him up?” Cail hissed, and I withdrew into myself even further.

No one answered him. We let Ryland’s continued screams eat up the sound. I kept my face away from him, my eyes buried in my shoulder as my ears perked to hear any noise.

“You hurt her,” Ryland screamed through the silence of Cail’s unanswered question.

I waited for the clunk of a chain, the hinge of a door. Nothing, but Ryland’s continued howls filled the damp air of our prison.

“Who screamed before Ryland did?” Cail asked again, the wicked pleasure in his voice evident even above Ryland’s screams.

Talon’s fingers dug into me as he tried to move me closer to him, the bars digging further into my back at his attempt.

“What?” Cail said, the mock disbelief in his voice unnerving. “No one going to answer me?”

“You killed her!” Ryland roared, the metal of his cell clanging once more before his screams turned to sobs. “Killed her…she’s gone…dead… Dead…”

“That’s all right,” he trilled, the wicked pleasure dancing in his voi
ce. “I’ll find out anyway. More importantly, we have a new arrival in Prague. Did you know that?”

Ryland had all but stopped now. His sobs turned to whimpers as he rocked himself back and forth, his hands clasped through his long hair. I could hear each step of Cail’s shoes against the ground as he paced in front of us. I could hear the gentle clicks of his tongue as he contemplated what to say next. But I stayed still, knowing that Sain and Talon were doing the same, each of our secrets held inside of our hearts.

“Oh yes, our visitor has just come back from seeing Ilyan
and
Joclyn.” The single word woke Ryland up again.

He jumped up, his hands hitting against
the bars as he lunged for Cail.

“Ovailia just saw Joclyn, Ryland, and
I guess Joclyn wants you back…do you want to go?” Cail’s voice was quiet, and I felt my entire spine solidify. No. Cail was about to succeed, he had built a weapon and now was able to let it go.

“Yes!” Ryland yelled his voice cracking in desperation.

“What are you going to do when you see her, Ryland?” Cail asked.  I curled inside of myself, not wanting to hear what was coming. “What are you going to do when you see her, when you see Ilyan’s arms around her?”

Ryland’s breathing picked up as Cail spoke, his breath coming in deep heavy spurts as he threatened hyperventilation. I listened as the sound of his breathing turned into yells. The word ‘kill’ repeated over and over.