Unwilling (Book One of the Compelled Trilogy 1)

by Kristen Pike

  “It’s fine.” Rowan complied and she saw Cecily exhale as if she had been holding her breath. Maybe if she were able to gain the child’s complete trust Cecily would be willing to help her get out when the time came. Cecily untangled a length of tan rope, which Rowan hadn’t noticed, from around her waist that looped several times on her slim frame.

  “I’m gunna need you over here.” She told Rowan, pointing to the far side of the cage, away from the door and the cave entrance. “I’m real sorry again, Uncles being real bull headed about all this. I told him you don’t need no tying up after that whole thing with the old man.” Cecily looked pityingly at Rowan as Rowan faced the cage and stuck her hands through the bars. Cecily began winding the rope along her wrists, “and besides, even if you tried runnin’ it’s not like you can get out, this whole place is one giant maze. Even I get lost sometimes and I’ve been here for years.” Cecily rambled on mater of factly.

  Cecily tugged a couple times on the rope to make sure it held and walked back over to the cage door, pulling a key from thin twine that hung around her neck. “It don’t hurt ya none, does it?” Cecily asked, inclining her head in Rowans general direction.

  “No.” Rowan told her and it was the truth. Cecily could have easily tightened the rope a lot more. Rowan knew she could break free of the bonds if she wiggled enough; slip right through the opened door while Cecily’s back was turned. Rowan also knew it wouldn’t do her any good and would probably get Cecily in trouble. Rowan scrunched up her face, wondering when she had started to care about the young girl’s well-being.

  “Good.” Cecily smiled at her, unlocking the door. She stooped to grab the large sack she had brought in with her and oomphed as she staggered into the cage, dropping the bag again by the large trough on the opposite side of the cage from Rowan.

  “How long have I been here?” Rowan asked Cecily’s back, craning her head to see Cecily over her shoulder.

  “Nine days.” Cecily responded, not missing a beat. “And uncles getting real anxious about it, on accounts we haven’t heard from yer brother yet, but Uncle was never one for patience. Besides, I like having ya here, even if ya don’t talk too much.” Cecily told her, turning quickly to smile at her before using the key she still had around her neck to tear a hole open in the bag.

  Cecily hoisted it into the trough and let, what Rowan assumed was grain, spill into the food dish. Horace the sheep bah’d happily, trotted over to Cecily, and nudged her with its nose, causing her to spill some grain onto the floor. “Well now look what you gone and made me do, ya useless lump.” Cecily said, though Rowan could detect a slight smile behind her words.

  When Cecily was done pouring, Horace shoved his face into the grain, chewing noisily and ignoring the two girls. Cecily made a face as she walked into the farthest corner of the cage, picking up a large metal bucket Rowan used as her chamber pot. Cecily grumbled something under her breath that Rowan did not catch and walked the bucket out of the cage. Rowan looked at the open cage door longingly, it wouldn’t take any effort, none at all to just slip out…

  Cecily wasn’t gone long before returning back with the bucket, emptied of its contents, drops of water beading on the side as if it had been rinsed. “Thanks.” Rowan said, embarrassed.

  “No need to fret yourself,” Cecily said good-naturedly. “Everyone does it.” She placed the bucket in its previous spot. When Cecily righted herself, she looked about the large cage, her hands on her tiny hips. “It’s kind of gross in here.” She said after a bit. “I mean it was fine for a sheep, but you’re a human being.” She looked at Rowan, chewing on her bottom lip. She nodded once, as if deciding something then strutted from the cage, closing the door behind her.

  “His name is Jace.” Rowan blurted, and then made a face wondering what had made her say that, of all things. Cecily furrowed her brow, then smiled.

  “I like the sound of that. Seems a romantic name, don’t it?” Cecily giggled again, relocking the cage door and coming to untie Rowan. “Do you love him?” Cecily asked more seriously, wearing a small frown. She plopped down, sitting outside the cage by Rowan, who was rubbing her wrists.

  “Yes.” Rowan confided to her, turning to sit so she faced the girl. I should have told him, he deserves to know how I feel. Someday, I’ll tell him.

  “Does he love you?” Cecily asked, cocking her head to one side as if trying to listen for something.

  Rowan hesitated a moment. “I think so.” She said after a while. “It’s hard for me to be sure. Being what-“ Rowan broke off, cautious not to tell Cecily too much, wondering what the young girl already knew about her.

  “Are you like yer brother?” Cecily questioned Rowan, her face growing darker. Rowan eyed the tiny girl, surprised by how intuitive she was.

  “Yes.” Rowan told her, seeing no point in lying and felt a weight lift from her shoulders. It felt good to say the words aloud.

  “Can you try it on me?” Cecily asked her, a strange look coming across her face. Fascination? Rowan thought, sadness? Maybe something in between.

  “No.” Rowan said flatly, shaking her head and causing her hair to tumble over her shoulders in loose ebony waves.

  Cecily looked as though she wanted to say something, her face pinched up in protest but she deflated, seeing the hard look on Rowans face. “Will you tell me a story?” She said finally, taking Rowan by surprise.

  “A- a story?” Rowan questioned.

  “Yea, my ma used to tell me stories all the time before she passed. Uncle won’t tell me any though.” Cecily said softly. Cecily turned so her back rested against the bars, putting her full trust in Rowan not to strangle her while her back was turned.

  Rowan looked at the girl’s fiery red hair, tumbling down her back in tight curls and felt immeasurably sad, though she could not pinpoint why exactly. “Well,” Rowan started, swiveling around so her back too rested against the bars, pressing into Cecily’s, the warmth of the contact made Rowan feel oddly content. “There once was a beautiful little bird, with feathers that shone like fire. It danced around wherever it went, hopping from one tiny foot to another, to music only it could hear. But the bird was so sad, for it was locked away under the cold ground, surrounded by miles of endless tunnels, never to feel the sun shine down on it, or feel the cool waters of the ocean, or climb up the tallest trees and fly with the wind rushing under its wings, but-“

  “Does it get free?” Cecily asked her, turning her body; Rowan did the same, to look into the younger girls face. Tears welled in Cecily’s green eyes and one spilt over the lid, making a line down her face. “Does it ever feel the grass, or the sun? Does it ever get to fly?” Cecily asked, her voice cracking. She never seemed so young to Rowan, as she did in that moment.

  “You could come with me.” Rowan whispered and Cecily went very still, Rowan was not even sure if she was breathing. Cecily’s eyes were large as she stared unblinking at Rowan.

  “But who would feed Horace?” She responded, tears falling in earnest now down her cheeks. “That’s selfish of you, why would you want Horace to starve? He’s done nothing to you, the stupid sheep! And you want him to starve? Who would feed him if I were gone?” The little girl yelled, stumbling to her feet. Rowan rose also, her eyes haunted and her brows low over them as she shook her head.

  “Cecily?” Rowan began, but the girl vaulted out of the room, her footfalls echoing as she ran away from Rowan, each one like a sharp knife to Rowans gut.

  Rowan slumped back down to the floor in confusion, guilt wringing around her insides like a poison. She pulled on a strand of her hair absently, looking at the space Cecily had occupied only seconds before, the dirt imprinted where the tiny girl had sat.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  It seemed to Rowan that Cecily didn’t return for a long time and when she did, she informed Rowan only a day had passed; one of the longest, loneliest days of Rowans life, though not nearly as soul crushing as those days when she had left Jace behind. When Rowan tried to apologize, Cecily
only looked at her and asked “what for?” with a slight shrug and a smile.

  Cecily came every day after that, most times twice a day. Rowan began to expect on her and felt distressed when Cecily had to dismiss herself, the cage and its room gloomy and bleak without the small girl to light the place up with her laughter and twinkling eyes. Rowan began to grow quiet affectionate toward her and plotted secret ways, late at night, to take Cecily with her when she escaped.

  Cecily sat now with her legs crossed, chewing on her bottom lip, it had been just over two weeks since they first had met.

  “What happened to your parents?” Rowan asked nervously, unsure if Cecily would be put off by the direct question. Cecily had said they had died, but had never elaborated further.

  Cecily shrugged, unaffected. “They passed when I was really little. We used to live in a big house, in a big village and on summer days they would take me out to a lake not far off and we would swim. In the winter, we would make a fire in the hearth and Ma would stay up all night with me telling me stories. But one winter everyone started getting sick; and Ma would always bring them things, like soups, or medicine. Then she got sick one day. Pa never left her side and he fell sick just a few days after she died. He went quickly; but before he went, he sent for Uncle Kastor, who brought me back here to these caves. I wasn’t with him...my father, in the end. I hope someone was.” Cecily finished, sounding distant.

  “Do you miss them?” Rowan asked.

  “Every day.” Cecily responded, her eyes focusing back in on Rowan. “Sometimes I forget what they looked like, or what Ma’s cooking tasted like. I feel like I lose a little piece of them every day.” Cecily said. Rowan could see tears forming in her eyes and wished she could give the tiny girl a hug.

  Cecily shook her head and when she stopped, she looked at Rowan with her normal smile, not a trace of sadness to be found in her round cheeks.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, why is the sheep down here?” Rowan asked her, changing the subject.

  “Oh Horace? Well Uncle brought him down here a year or so back for food, but he was just so small and helpless I couldn’t bare for him to be eaten, and so now I take care of him!” Cecily looked proudly at Horace the sheep, who was munching on some grains.

  “That was nice of you to save him.” Rowan told her.

  “Uncle wasn’t any too happy about it, says sheep are for eaten and not for keepin’ but I let him sheer his wool, so at least he aren’t going to complete waste.”

  “I suppose so.” Rowan agreed. “Have you heard anything about the outside?” Rowan asked Cecily, who turned her gaze from Horace back to her.

  “Not a whole lot. Uncles only been out once cause we would all starve down here if he didn’t go. He says the King of Lamarina is all up in arms about your brother; says Elias is gunna start a big war if he doesn’t stop carrying on the way he is.” Cecily looked at Rowan with wide eyes, as though she couldn’t imagine a war.

  The last war had been a few years after Rowan was born, only lasting a year or so, and Rowan had no recollection of it, other than the stories she heard occasionally whispered. Another land named Visinica had had a bad leader, power hungry and cruel to begin with, but it had grown worse when his children had disappeared and he tore his country apart looking for them, and Lamarina had sent in troops to remove him from the throne. Rowan had heard hundreds of men had died trying to defeat the rulers army, and in the end the ruler had escaped and was rumored to have died alone in the wilderness.

  Rowan wondered if that was how Elias would rule his people if he overthrew the King, with malice and hatred and no compassion for the people.

  Of course it is, Rowan thought sadly, he isn’t even sitting on a throne and he’s already destroyed half of Lamarina. Rowan grew more despondent at the thought of Elias dying alone, with no one to care that he had left the world behind.

  “Well I’m sure it won’t come to all that.” Rowan speculated, though she thought it was possible. Rowan recalled all of the King’s Guard they had come across in all the villages she had visited in pursuit of Elias; they were either found dead or they had taken up with Elias, abandoning their sacred duty to protect the people of Lamarina. Or so she had been told by those still in the villages. Was that what Elias wanted, to start a war? “Have you heard anything, from him?” Rowan asked hesitantly.

  “I’m sorry,” Cecily said with a shake of her head, begrudgingly answering Rowan’s daily question. “But Uncle says he’s going to keep trying.”

  Rowan tried to hide her disappointment, after all, Elias had already abandoned her once, why should she be surprised that he didn’t care that she had been abducted. She knew she shouldn’t hurt, shouldn’t feel utterly devastated, at his betrayal, but even after all these months, the thought that her brother no longer loved her tore her heart out of her chest on a daily basis.

  “What was yer brother like? Before he turned into a lunatic and started murdering people?” Cecily asked unashamed.

  Rowan was about to argue that her brother wasn’t a lunatic, but based on his recent actions, she could no longer say she didn’t often think the same thing. “He was kind.” Rowan said, “He was, is, the most amazing artist. The only thing he ever hurt was spiders, and only then because I’m scared of them.” Rowan told her and mourned silently for the brother she had known, the brother who no one doubted had loved his sister more than anything else in the entire world. “He would stay up late with me when mother-“ She doesn’t need to know that. “He was a horrible singer, and even worse at dancing, but he was patient, and generous, and loving.” Rowan sighed, looking at the floor.

  “He sounded like a good person.” Cecily said softly.

  “He was.” Rowan said flatly. “I know he can be again.” She said with an edge to her voice; she knew if she never made it free that Elias would likely destroy all of Lamarina and the people in it.

  “You really love yer brother don’t you?” Cecily asked, her voice filled with a kind of awe.

  “Always. He was the only person that was ever always there for me.”

  “He’s not here for you now.” Cecily told her and Rowan was taken aback. Cecily was right of course. Elias wasn’t here now, when she needed him most. He had abandoned her to their mother, and left her to search for him for months, without so much as a word.

  “Your right.” Rowan agreed, heavy hearted.

  “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.” Cecily said, feeling guilty.

  “No its ok, you are right.” Rowan assured the small girl, a weak smile adorning her face, though Rowan felt a crushing sadness threaten to overtake her.

  “Well…” Cecily trailed off, unsure of what to say. “Do you got a ma and pa?” Cecily asked.

  “No.” Rowan said bitterly. Unbidden the image of her mother on her knees sprang into Rowans mind. Kill me please! Rowan shook her head, trying to clear the grotesque image.

  “Oh, sorry.” Cecily said, once again sucking in her bottom lip. “Well that makes us both orphans!” She said excitedly, then her face drew tight as though what she had said had sunk in. “Not like that’s a good thing, I just mean-” Cecily shook her head.

  “It’s okay Cecily.” Rowan said, smiling at the girl.

  Cecily smiled back, her green eyes sparkling in the dim room. “Well I best get going, I have chores in need of doing. I don’t really feel like doing chores, I’d rather just sit and talk to you all day, but Uncle says I need to earn my keep or he’s gunna leave me outside to die. I know he don’t mean it none, but I still do my chores. I’ll come back tomorrow and visit!” Cecily bounded to her feet and tokk a few steps to leave.

  Cecily turned back around suddenly, a serious look upon her small face. “I love you, Rowan.” She said and before Rowan could respond she gave a final wave and hopped from the room, leaving Rowan to stare astounded at Horace.

  TWENTY-SIX

  ONE MONTH LATER- SEPTEMBER

  Rowans days were filled with much of the same; meager slush for
food, at first her stomach would grumble for more, but it had since grown accustomed to eating very little, though her mouth always felt dry, her tongue like sandpaper in her mouth, her head pounding from not enough water, and Cecily’s bubbling personality for company. Rowan thought that it might have been years since she had been locked down in the caves. She had grown thin, her ribs protruding slightly, and her cheekbones more pronounced from malnourishment.

  “Come on!” Cecily whined now, bringing Rowan back from her thoughts, “It can just be something small, it’s not a big deal!” She insisted, bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet.

  “Cecily, I’ve told you no.” Rowan answered a little more harshly than she had intended to, but she was tired of this same argument, always with the same result.

  “But WHY?” Cecily asked, throwing her arms out in frustration, her normally pale face lit up red in anger.

  “Because I don’t want to!” Rowan threw back, for the hundredth time since Cecily first asked a week ago.