by Heath Pfaff
"It's alright. I'm just glad you are not hurt. They came down here a few minutes ago, came into the cell and took all of my equipment. They knocked me around a bit. I knew things had gone sour when that happened."
My anger flared, a deep rage building that anyone would hurt those who were important to me. My rage was immediately chased by a sense of worthlessness. "I had time. I was even left alone. I just didn't act soon enough. This is my fault," I said, and the words felt true and bitter on my tongue.
"Don't worry," Malice said. "We'll find a way out of here before long, and then we'll get Kye and leave this place behind." Her voice held little confidence. I guessed that she had already tried to get out of her own cell and had no luck so far. Still, she was trying to encourage me, and I couldn't let her do so in vain. I forced myself to sound positive.
"Of course. Now that we're back together, we can get out of this mess." Though I didn't believe the words when I said them, saying them made me feel better. I just had to find a way to make them true.
I worked on the lattice of bars for hours, heaving and struggling against the solid framework with all the strength that I could muster, but the metal was simply unrelenting. My claws could not rend the structure, and my brawn would not bend the bars. I scoured the heavy stone walls, looking for a loose link, any place that I might make a hole through which to escape, but every inch of every wall was fortified beyond my ability to break. The cells had been designed to hold things of a magnitude far stronger than I was, and that made me wonder exactly what they had been designed to keep in. I even went so far in my vigor to break free to slam my fist into the stone as hard as I could, but that resulted in nothing more than my bones cracking loudly against the unmoving wall. The breaks in my bones healed, but the pain lingered for a while even after the flesh had mended.
"I've tried as well," came Malice's voice from her cell, somewhere across the central corridor from me, but I didn't think it was the one directly adjacent mine. "This dungeon was designed to hold monsters more powerful than us."
I paced my cell, suddenly feeling all too keenly just how small an area I was bound to. Monsters. That word stuck in my mind, a poignant reminder of how much humanity I had lost. Malice had not meant it as an offense, but the word reminded me of what I had lost, and what I was becoming. "They will have to feed us eventually. When they do..." I began.
"Meals are slipped through a slot under the door. The last time they opened the cell was when they came to take my supplies, and they brought heavy reinforcements when they did that. I doubt that our cell doors will be opened again until they've come to deliver our punishment. That means that we must find a way out of here on our own," Malice spoke in a mild tone, one I knew that was meant to calm me while imparting information that might not be of a calming nature.
I sighed and forced myself to sit down, attempting to relax. Somewhere above me, Kyeia was being held as a prisoner, studied and dissected as they tried to determine why she was still alive after having given up her eyes, even if their studies might be to the detriment of that life. I needed to stay calm, and find a way to get free so that I could help her. I knew that. Rational thought was necessary to overcome the situation. Knowing that I needed to stay calm was far easier than actually staying calm.
"If we get out, we do not allow them to take us again," I called from where I sat upon the floor, the agitation in my voice obvious even to me.
"That is a given," Malice replied. "I've no intention of ending up in this place again - should I ever get free of it, that is."
The sound of a door opening was immediately followed by a cascade of light into the room so bright that, after having been in the dark for hours, it was momentarily blinding. For the first time I was truly able to make out the area beyond my cell door. There was a long, bare, stone-floored corridor stretching between the two lines of dungeon cells, with each cell set at a staggered interval from those across from them so that it was difficult to directly see into any other enclosure. I saw Malice, leaning against the bars of her own cell, across from me, and two cells down, all the way next to the wall at the opposite end of the dungeon from the door. I only saw her for a moment, and it was hard to make out details through the heavy pattern of the bars. She covered her eyes and walked into the darkness at the back of her iron cage as light flooded into dank subterranean prison. I thought that she was probably right to make such a move. It would keep her eyes adjusted to the deep darkness of our confinement, and allow her to go mostly unseen. I, however, did not follow the example. I wanted to see what was happening, in hope that I might turn events to my advantage. A single figure was framed in the doorway, dressed in a cloak of shifting edges. In a moment the door shut behind whoever had entered, but they had brought a torch so light remained, not as bright as that which had come through the opening but still far brighter than what I had momentarily grown accustomed to.
The cloaked person was a Knight of Ethan. It was immediately obvious not only from the way it moved down the stairs, but also for the clawed hand that gripped the handle of the torch and the Lucidil Cloak worn by the Knights. It stopped at each cell, holding the torch high, as though checking on the prisoners. I hadn't heard any other prisoners the entire time I'd been in the dark, so the possibility remained that whoever it was that had brought the torch was looking for Malice and me, but did not know exactly where we were kept. I briefly entertained the idea of reaching through the gate and seizing them as they approached and forcing them to free us, but the bars were designed in such a way that I could get no more than my hand through the grid-work and that only with difficulty. I had but one choice, to wait and see what was to happen.
The Knight approached, checking each cell, until finally the figure stood in front of mine, torch held high. The light was not bright, and it took only a brief moment for my eyes to adjust to the new light. I could see nothing of the person holding the brand, and knew not what to expect. There was the chance that the cloaked figure would simply move past and check the rest of the cells, but I had the growing suspicion that such would not be the case.
"Lowin?" It was a female voice that was familiar, but not so much that I could immediately identify its owner. I squinted to see, holding my hand up to try and block the direct light of the torch, but I could not make out anything while looking past the torch. Even my sensitive vision had limits.
"Yes," I replied, stepping away from the bars, back into the darkness of my cell. My suspicion was confirmed. Whoever it was, they had come looking for me. That information alone made me nervous. I'd had enough of strange people searching for me to last several life times. First Tempest had come for me, then Lucidil had come, and now whoever it was that stood beyond my cell had come looking for me. I wasn't sure I wanted any part of whatever adventure they might bring with them.
"Just a moment and I will free you," the voice said, and I heard the sound of keys being manipulated. My surprise would have been apparent had I not been shrouded in the murk of my captivity. I had expected many things, but a chance at escape had not been one of those.
"You're here to free me? Who are you?" I had never been one to hold back with questions.
The keys stopped jingling and there was a moment of hesitance, as if whoever was beyond my cell wasn't sure they wanted to disclose their identity.
"I am Wisp," came the soft reply, followed by the resuming of keys being manipulated, and my heart gave a fierce throb in my chest.
"Why would you free me, so that you can attempt to kill me again?" I spat the words forth, knowing that they were far from appropriate at that point in time, but unable to control them. Of all the people who might have come to free me, and that was a short list, I would have never placed Wisp's name on it if I'd had a million years to consider the possibilities.
The keys stopped again. "I'm not here to kill you, idiot. I'm here to free you and Malice if you want. I know I have hurt you in the past, but I have had months to consider my actions and much has changed s
ince then." She resumed searching for the key, and a moment later I heard it slide into the lock. "I was jealous of how the other Knights spoke of you, and how quickly you learned everything. I had been treated the same way when I first came to the Knights, told how great my potential was, and I hated that you were a new hope for them while I had failed many times and fallen in rank until I was barely good enough for guard duty. I took my self-loathing out on you. I know that now." The door opened to my cell. "I don't know why you've done all the things they say you have, and I want no part of any of it, but I cannot live with myself if I do not pay the debt that I owe you. I will let you free from this cell, and we will part company, all debts paid."
I stepped from the door of my cell, coming close enough that I could see Wisp's face in the light of her torch. There was sincerity in the lines of her features. Her eyes passed over my face, and I saw them tracing the white scars she had carved there. She looked away, and pulled her keys from the door.
"Malice is two cells down, on the opposite side of the corridor," I told her, still wary of the woman who had once so deeply cut me, but also unwilling to cast aside the help she was offering. I didn't know what the consequences would be for her, but she was giving me what would possibly be my last chance to free Kye and Malice. She walked down the corridor towards Malice's iron cage.
"They will kill you for this, Wisp," Malice's voice came from her cell, where she had obviously overheard our conversation. "We stand accused of treason, and so will you, for freeing us."
I heard a key entering a lock, and the sound of a door swinging open. "I will leave the Knights in the chaos of your escape, and strive to make a better life for myself. After you demoted me, Malice, they sent me to..." Her voice trailed off. "They did things to me that..." Again, her words faltered, but when she spoke again there was strength in her voice I had not heard while she was my guard all those months before. It was the same tone I had first heard from her that had made me fail to recognize her voice. "I am a different woman. I have been thinking about leaving for a long time now, and seeing Lowin again has been just the final blow to my crumbling beliefs. So you see, I am setting you free, but I am really freeing myself as well."
Malice stepped from her cell, dressed in only her shirt and pants, an aspect of her I'd only ever seen at our most intimate times. Generally she was full dressed in armor and cloak, and though I knew she was dressed down because the Knights had taken her gear, it still struck me as strange to see her so. "If this is what you want, I commend your bravery and thank you for your help," Malice said.
I heard a gasp from Wisp, "Your eyes are green!" She said, a quiet exclamation.
"They were a gift from Lowin," Malice replied, and I thought I detected the slightest smile evident in the tone of her words.
"But how..." Wisp began, but Malice stopped her.
"Now isn't the time. We need to make our escape before someone notices that you've been down here longer than whatever excuse you may have given dictates. I recommend you stay down here until you hear the sounds of fighting from above, and then you can attempt to make your escape. I can't say whether or not we will be able to fight our way free, so you may have to fight your way out as well." The green-eyed warrior's voice had taken on an air of authority.
Wisp seemed to remember where she was then, and she reached beneath her cloak, drawing out a long package wrapped in a shifting cloak. She handed the bundle to Malice.
"I couldn't get your gear back," Wisp said to the green eyed woman, "but I was able to get two swords, a new cloak for you, and..." She held up something that was difficult to see in the dimness of the room. "I stole back Lowin's cloak after Froast finally passed out while working on it. He'd been awake for about three days. Even his excitement about this cloak couldn't keep him up forever."
I crossed the distance and took the fabric from her, a smile on my face. Just feeling the familiar cloth on my fingers again brought a sense of confidence to me. I quickly put on the cloak, and fastened the new sword on as well.
"Whatever debt you owed me, Wisp, you may consider paid in full," I told her, feeling whole again with my sword and cloak donned. A look of such relief came over Wisp's face that it seemed to me I might have just told her that I was not going to end her life in miserable torture. She had acted gruff about the matter, but I knew then that she had desperately wanted to hear those words from me. I found that I believed them, as well. I no longer bore the female Knight any ill will. There was still much to be done, though. I needed one more thing from Wisp, "However, I have one question for you, and it is important."
Wisp nodded, obviously eager to answer whatever I might have to ask.
"Do you know where they're keeping Kyeia?" It was the most vital question I could ask. If she knew, it might mean the difference between success and failure for Malice and me.
Wisp shook her head in negative reply. "I'm afraid I do not, but I heard that she had been brought here. It was big news. I do, however, know where you should look."
My face passed through an entire range of emotions, beginning with disappointment, and ending on hope at her last words. Even knowing where to begin was at least something to go on.
"The east wing of the building is where they manage all research that involves medical care. I believe that is where they would have taken her, but the Knights are not permitted to know the nature of most of the really secretive work, and all word of Kyeia since she came here has been tightly guarded. I know only that she is alive and that her room is guarded by two Knights, not human guards, and that the Knights chosen are quarantined from the rest of us so that no information leaks out. I'm not even sure which two guards have been chosen for the detail." The information Wisp offered was more than I had thought I'd have when starting my search.
"Thank you," I told her, offering a slight bow. "That information will be invaluable to us."
"How many guards are in the room above?" Malice asked, drawing her sword as she began walking for the stairs that would lead us to the exit of the dungeon.
"Six human, four Knights." Wisp replied. "I traded the fifth for his position here. I told him that I was curious about the prisoner since I had" she looked at me, shame on her face, "been the one to scar you."
I shrugged. "Scars heal. You bought us an easier fight out of here, and that's another thing for which we owe you thanks." I drew my own weapon, trying to ready myself for the fight that was about to come. I would be facing multiple Knights in a battle to the death, a task I'd never tackled before. Surprise, my superior strength and speed, and the outstanding fighting skills of Malice would be all the advantage we had. I hoped it would be enough.
"The door at the top is unlocked," Wisp said. "Good luck."
Malice and I ascended the stone stairs, as quietly as we could; about to embark upon a battle we knew could be our last. My hand tightened about the hilt of my sword in anticipation, the weight almost identical to that of my lost weapon, which was to be expected since all the blades of the Knights of Ethan were crafted by the same forge and made of the same high quality materials. In my mind I was already going over the layout of the villa, or as much of it as I knew, deciding what would be our best course of action if we managed to survive the fight ahead. I heard Malice's hand lift and pull the ring that served as a door handle, and all such thoughts fled. The immediate present was all that need concern me.
In the closeness of the hall Malice looked to me, her green eyes flashing in the light coming from around the door. I knew that we would be momentarily blinded by the light that was about to assail us, but we needed only see enough to make our first move, and from there our eyes would adjust. Like all other aspects of those risen to Knighthood, our eyes adapted and changed as we needed them to. I offered a nod of my head, letting Malice know that I was as ready as I was going to be. Malice pulled the door open in one monstrous swing, and we charged out, squinting into the bright light as we went. I pushed myself to the edge of my speed ability and tackled the
nearest figure in a shifting cloak, knowing that the Knights would prove far more difficult to deal with than the human guards. As my sword cleared the first target, his broken form falling into two pieces, Lucidil Cloak and body split despite their resistance, the room exploded into action. It was obvious that I would not get another kill so easily.
I had no time to check to see if Malice was well, as I suddenly had another Knight of Ethan coming for me, his sword at the ready. He moved with the speed and dexterity only a well-trained Knight could manage, his aim deadly and true. I met his attack with one of my own, relying on my superior speed to give me the edge in our confrontation. It worked. My attacker's strike, despite its beauty and perfect killing form, was thrown off balance and turned aside by my superior strength. If he was shocked, he didn't slow to show it. He came back again, circling around me for a better angle, but I would not allow him to pass out of my range of vision. I spun with him, keeping my purple eyes locked on his seething black orbs. In the surreal world of our unbelievable speed, the pressures exerted by wind resistance and momentum tore at our cloaks and fur, causing them to ripple majestically against our paths of motion, and our slowed perception made that rippling appear as a sinuous and beautiful dance of fabric and fur. Had it not been so deadly, one might have called it a form of art.