“Why are you laughing?” a little girl’s voice called in the darkness.
Rabel’s eyes popped open and he searched for the source of the voice. It was a little girl, a street urchin, dressed in less than rags, her body more bone than skin.
“I’m laughing because I’m free,” Rabel said.
“You’re in jail,” the little girl told him. “How can you be free?”
“Free is in your mind, child,” Rabel told her. “And no bars can take that away from you.”
“You’re an old man,” the girl said, moving forward to come into sight just outside the bars of his cell. “They say you’re crazy with age.” She added, “I think they’re right.”
Rabel chuckled. “Age brings insight. Remember that as you —” he cut himself off. This child would not grow older. She was closer to death’s door than he.
“Where are your parents?” Rabel demanded. He glanced around. “Are they in jail?”
“They died. Years back,” the girl said. “I was taken in by a gang and they died.”
“Died? How?”
“My gang was rounded up by the king,” the girl said. Her face twisted in bitter memories. “The boys were sent to the ships. The girls...”
“I understand,” Rabel said. “How did you escape?”
“I was out on the street when the guards came,” the girl said.
“Lucky,” Rabel said. He almost hated himself for his next question. He knew what asking it would bring for him. “What’s your name?”
“Ellen,” the little girl said.
There, old man, now you know, Rabel thought bitterly to himself. You had to ask. You had to care.
“Who sent you?” he said aloud.
“What?” Ellen asked in a tone that might have convinced someone much younger of her innocence.
“You’re not here when you could be begging, unless someone sent you,” Rabel said. “Someone paid you to be here.”
Ellen was silent, rapidly trying to come up with an answer. Rabel almost smiled: the little urchin reminded him of Krea when she tried to lie.
“Who was it?”
“The captain,” Ellen said.
“The captain?” Rabel repeated, growing thoughtful. “Which captain, what ship?”
“The captain of the airship,” Ellen said, standing a bit straighter. “Captain Ford.”
“Captain Ford!” Rabel repeated in surprise. The captain of the airship that had shot the wyvern from the sky. The wyvern who had twinned with Krea on the death of her human half. “Why?”
“He wanted to know about the mechanical man,” Ellen said.
“Ibb?” Rabel asked in surprise. “Where is he?”
“Gone,” Ellen said. Proudly, she added, “I saw his boot prints in the snow and then they disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“But there were wagon tracks,” Ellen continued.
“But no wagon,” Rabel guessed.
“How did you know?”
“It’s Ibb,” Rabel said. “He would have taken precautions.”
He would have taken precautions, the words rang in his ears. He began moving about the cell, searching the corners and the bricks.
“What are you doing?” Ellen said.
“I need more light,” Rabel said. “I’m sure that Ibb would have left a message.”
“He wasn’t in this cell.”
“But the cell was unlocked when he left, wasn’t it?” Rabel said.
“Yes,” Ellen said with some hesitation. “And I didn’t see boot prints until he got to the snow.”
“So he could have come here,” Rabel said, his spirits lifting. “But my eyes are too old, I need light.”
Suddenly the bricks were brighter. Rabel turned and saw Ellen holding a small object glowing with a blue-white light. He raced over to her so fast that she lurched back from the cell’s bars in fear.
“Where did you get that?” Rabel asked. He looked at it. “It’s a witch light, are you a witch?”
“N-no,” Ellen said fearfully. “They came to me.”
“They’re witch-sent,” Rabel told her. “Demons ensorceled, which is why they can’t escape and they don’t burn you.”
“I didn’t know,” Ellen said. “I was thinking about Captain Ford, wondering how I could tell him when they came to me.”
“He must have sent them then,” Rabel said.
“How could he know I was thinking of him?” Ellen asked in surprised. “Is he the witch?”
Rabel snorted. “Hardly!” He gave the girl a long look before adding, “I think they were looking for you, that your thoughts were what they honed in on.”
Ellen absorbed this in silence.
“Can I borrow this one?” Rabel asked, beckoning the girl forward. “I promise I won’t hurt it.”
Reluctantly, Ellen walked back to the jail and held out the blue demon. Carefully Rabel picked it up, cooing softly, “Oh, aren’t you the most brilliant demon of all the gods?”
The demon seemed to appreciate the praise, glowing brighter as Rabel brought it closer to the walls.
“Ibb left something,” Rabel said to the light demon. “It might be magic.
Can you help me find it?”
The blue demon, nothing more than a blob of blue-white light with no heat, pulsed in agreement.
Rabel went around the cell slowly and carefully. Ellen shrank against the brick wall that separated Rabel’s cell from the next, hiding from the bright light.
“Oh, no!” Rabel said when the blue light brightened. Ellen crept around the corner to see Rabel hovering over the only thing in the cell: the bucket left for him to relieve himself. “Metal man, if this is your sort of humor…!”
But it wasn’t, much to Rabel’s relief. He lifted the bucket and moved it aside. He peered down and saw nothing — but the demon pulsed brighter. With his brows creased in speculation, Rabel reached down to the ground and cried in triumph when he came up with something — something that he couldn’t see.
The blue light flared and Rabel grunted in surprise as words appeared in the thin air his hand cupped: The god will help you if you accept him.
The words disappeared and the blue-light demon dimmed as if saddened by their loss.
“Here child,” Rabel called softly, walking back to the bars. “You may have your messenger back.”
“Messenger?” Ellen said, coming around the corner and gently taking the blue-light demon back into her hand. She looked down at it to assure herself that it was unharmed, then up to Rabel. “How does it work?”
“Think of your captain, think of your message and tell it to go,” Rabel said. “It will go to wherever he is.”
“What if he’s dead?” Ellen asked.
“If he’s dead I doubt they’ll stay with you,” Rabel replied, shaking his head. “Their magic was tied to him — and you through him.”
“Me?”
“He had to bind them to you,” Rabel explained. “So he did it by thinking of you.”
“He gave me a shilling,” Ellen said shyly, “and promised more.”
“Those demons are worth more than your shilling,” Rabel said. He gave her a smile. “You must be worth quite a lot to him.”
“He told me to spy for him,” Ellen said dubiously.
“You must be good,” Rabel said.
“I am,” Ellen said with no modesty. She gave him a look. “I found you and I found the metal man’s boots.”
“You are good at finding things,” Rabel said encouragingly.
“What did you find?” Ellen asked him. She saw his look and added, “It was my demon that helped you.”
“I found a message,” Rabel replied.
“What did it say?”
“It said that I have to make a choice,” he r
eplied.
“Will it get you free?”
Rabel nodded slowly.
“Then you should take it,” Ellen said. “They’re going to kill you in the morning.”
“Some things are worse than dying,” Rabel said.
“Like being hungry?” she asked. Rabel nodded. “And cold?” He nodded again. “And all alone?”
“Those are all worse than dying,” Rabel agreed.
“But this is worse than those?” Ellen guessed.
“It could be,” Rabel said.
“Well,” Ellen said, “I think you should do it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m hungry and cold and if you go to the hangman, I’ll be all alone,” she said.
Rabel snorted in laughter. He reached through the bars and tousled her hair, dirty and slimy though it was. “I like you, little Ellen.”
“I like you too, old man,” Ellen said. Shyly, trying it out for the first time, she said his name, “Rabel.”
“What do you know of me?”
“Your daughter was the one who turned into a wyvern,” Ellen said. After a moment, she confided, “I saw it happen.”
“You did?” Rabel asked in surprise. “I was at home.”
“Because you were old,” Ellen guessed shrewdly. “The man stuck her with this long pin and she cried and then she fell and when she rose again — she was a wyvern. She screeched so loud it hurt my ears and then flew away to the north.” Thoughtfully, she added, “Probably to find the gods.” She narrowed her eyes. “That message, was it from the gods?”
“It was from Ibb,” Rabel replied quickly.
“It was about the gods,” Ellen said with surety. “That’s why the demon got brighter.”
“It was,” Rabel replied. “I was told I could get help if I accepted a deal with a god.”
“Do gods often offer you such riches?” Ellen asked.
“Just one god,” Rabel replied, shaking his head sadly. “And I wished I’d never listened to him.”
“Don’t say his name!” Ellen hissed in warning, glancing around the place. “Ametza! She likes to hear only about herself.”
“Good advice,” Rabel said, “and too true.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a deep sigh. “I suppose we should leave now.”
“Leave?” Ellen said. “How? You’re in jail and I’m paid to —”
“Best not say it,” Rabel told her, rephrasing her words from earlier. Ellen gave him a startled look which turned into a pout. Satisfied, Rabel continued, “You’ll want to come with me anyway.”
“Why?”
“Do you want to eat regularly?” Rabel asked. “And don’t you want clothes that don’t freeze you?”
“They won’t do any good if I’m dead.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Rabel said. Her eyebrows shot up. “You — staying alive.” He didn’t wait for her to respond. “Now, back away from the jail. Best go around the corner and close your eyes.”
“Why? What’s going to happen?”
“I don’t really know,” Rabel said. “All I know is that we need to leave.”
“But —”
“Just do what I say,” Rabel said. “I’ll get you before I leave.”
Ellen shook her head, once, in amazement at the stupidity of old people but, at Rabel’s continued gestures, went around the corner of the hallway. She did not close her eyes.
A moment later, Rabel called out, “Close your eyes if you don’t want to lose your sight!”
Reluctantly, she closed her eyes.
A brilliant flash, so intense that it glowed through her closed eyes, lit the entire jail. Guards cried out in panic, groping around blindly.
“Come on!” A young man’s voice called, and she felt someone grab tightly to her upper arm and tug her after him.
Ellen opened her eyes and tried to shrug off the grip of the man.
“Who are you?” she cried. “Let me go! I’m waiting for someone!”
“You’re waiting for me, Ellen,” the man said.
“No, I’m not!” Ellen shouted. Then she stopped. “Who are you?”
“We spoke earlier,” the man said.
“You said I was too old.” He smiled at her and cocked his head. “Still think so?”
Ellen’s eyes went wide. The voice sounded like the old man’s, like Rabel’s. But it was much younger. The man in front of her had dark, gleaming hair, not white straggly bits just barely topping his head. The man had energy and vigor and… something fierce lurked behind his eyes. Something that frightened her almost as much as it excited her.
“Rabel?” she said. She didn’t need his nod to know the answer. “What did you do?”
“I made a deal,” Rabel told her. “A deal to save your life.” He tugged on her arm again. “Come on! We’re going to have to run very fast if we don’t want the guards to see us.”
“Why won’t they see us?”
“The light blinded them,” Rabel said, tugging again. This time, Ellen let herself be led.
They passed the guard at the front who was wandering around, arms outstretched, moaning in pain and fear.
“Don’t worry,” Rabel said as they passed him, “you’ll get your sight back in a few minutes.”
“Who are you?” the guard cried. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m a friend of Ophidian’s and you’ve made him very angry,” Rabel said. “You and all the guard should leave while you have the chance.”
“Ophidian!” the blind guard cried. “Leave?”
“Better than being blind,” Rabel called over his shoulder as they left the building.
“Ophidian! Please help me!” the guard cried behind them.
“Ophidian blinded them?” Ellen asked, glancing back to the building from which several guards were running. She frowned. “That’s mean!”
Rabel laughed. “I blinded them,” Rabel said. She looked at him in surprise and fear. “But only for a moment.”
“So why did you say his name?”
“Because I owe the king payment for all the trouble he’s caused me,” Rabel said. He glanced at the jail which was almost completely bare of guards. “This is just the start.”
“They’ll leave?” Ellen said. “And all those locked in the jails?”
“Not so many now,” Rabel said, stopping and pointing toward the entrance to the jail. Ellen’s eyes nearly popped out of her head as she saw a stream of people fleeing the jail.
Some looked very mean and nasty but too many looked like herself — half-starved and half-dressed: no threat to the king or anyone else in the kingdom.
“Come on,” Rabel said, turning down a side street. “We’ve got to go to the Inn.”
Ellen let herself be pulled along. Rabel had exchanged his grip on her shoulder for holding her hand. For Ellen, the grip of an adult’s hand was a comfort she hadn’t felt in years. Suddenly tears were streaming down her face and she stopped, bawling her eyes out.
“It’s okay,” Rabel said, turning quickly and bouncing her up into his arms. He held her against him and strode off with renewed speed. “Cry all you need, little one.” He pressed her head into his shoulder. “There’s no harm in crying.”
Chapter Three: Freedom’s Fire
“Magic!” the two elderly mages cried as one. “God magic!”
King Markel looked over to them in irritation: he had been having quite a pleasant nap on his throne, dreaming of flying ships and roaring cannons. It took him a moment to gather his wits. “Praise be to Ametza!”
Margen shook his head, and croaked, “‘Twas not Ametza, sire.”
“It came from the jail,” Vistos said in an aged, scratchy voice, pointing toward the far window. “There was a flash of magic, like a bright light and fire.”
; “So, not Ametza, then,” Markel said in a bored voice. He roused himself out of his plush throne and walked down the dais toward the indicated window. He could see light and smoke where the jail had been and people running away from it. “Perhaps a fire was started,” Markel guessed. He waved a hand. “The walls are stone, the bars are metal,” he considered the notion for another moment, then turned back toward his throne. “The rest is of no consequence and can easily be replaced.”
“It was god’s work,” Margen insisted.
“Why would a god —?” Markel began. And then the answer hit him. “Rouse the troops! Send someone to the jail immediately!”
“I’ll send Gergen, Your Majesty,” first minister Mannevy said, turning to issue the orders. General Gergen was the head of Kingsland’s royal army.
“You do that,” the king said. “And have him be prepared to explain how this all happened, too.”
Mannevy nodded and waved a hand in acknowledgement.
#
“It happened because we never hired a mage for the jail, did we?” Georgos Gergen, the king’s third minister — in charge of the army — growled when Mannevy apprised him of the king’s command. “As for the other, I’ve already sent Walpish and a troop to see what we can learn.” He scowled, adding, “We’ll know soon enough.”
“How soon?”
“Walpish was told to send a messenger —” he broke off as the sound of galloping hooves grew louder and louder in their direction. Gergen nodded at the sound. “ We’ll know now.”
“The prisoners have escaped!” the messenger cried, reining his horse to a halt at General Gergen’s hand-raised order.
“Yes, we guessed that from the sight of everyone running away,” Mannevy replied with ill-disguised pique. “The question your colonel should have answered is: why?”
The trooper glanced toward Mannevy, recognized him, and bowed in his saddle. “First Minister, my commander sent me as soon as he had appraised the situation. I’m sure —” he broke off, glancing back over his shoulder as another messenger galloped into the courtyard. Wordlessly, he waved toward the new messenger.
“What news?” Gergen called.
The trooper reined his mount to a halt, saluted Gergen and called down, “Colonel Walpish’s compliments, sir, —” he nodded toward first minister Mannevy “— minister. The colonel wishes me to inform you that all the prisoners have escaped.”
Twin Soul Series Omnibus 2: Books 6-10 Page 2