by B. T. Narro
He grumbled.
When he closed the door behind us, I thought I heard more than just the sound of the latch. I tried the handle. Sure enough, it was locked.
“Do you know another way out of here?” I asked Henry.
“Yes.”
I retraced the path down to the prison. As the walls grew bare and the air stale, I admitted to Henry, “I’m confused why Storell thinks this is related to Swenn. Can I see the scroll you gave him?”
I stopped by a burning torch, the sconce holding it just over my shoulder. Henry handed me a scroll.
“I take responsibility for him.”
“Does he think we’re helping Swenn with something before the trial?”
“Yes.”
“So that’s why he doesn’t want us coming back out through the library,” I realized. “He thinks we’re doing something dishonorable.”
“Yes.”
“He must really be scared of Swenn. The man’s ill and about to be hung, and Storell still—”
Henry interrupted with two low whistles. “No.”
“No to what?”
He made the motion of a noose around his neck.
“Yes, he will be hung. I’ll make sure of it, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” I halted. “Though I suppose you deserve thanks for getting me here.” I patted his shoulder with derision. “It’s the first useful thing you’ve done since I’ve met you.”
He made the sound of flatulence with his mouth.
We had a quiet walk the rest of the way to the prison. It was eerie to think about Storell believing I intended to help Swenn. He must not know anything close to the truth about the poisoning or why Gram had really confronted me.
When we came to the grille, I tapped the bars and called loudly for a jailer. Eventually one came.
“I’m here to visit someone,” I told him.
“On whose orders?”
I was about to lie when Henry grabbed my shoulder and slipped a scroll through the bars. It must’ve been the same one as before.
“Fine,” said the jailer.
Soon it was just Henry and me again as we passed empty cells, a person here and there creeping to the bars for a look, none speaking.
“Do you know who I’m here to see?” I asked him.
He whistled three times, more shrill than usual.
It took a moment of thought before I had a guess as to what it meant. “Is that supposed to mean ‘of course’?”
“Yes.”
“So three low notes would be ‘of course not’?”
“Yes.”
I heard voices bouncing down the hall. Taking a turn, I saw the source. Someone stood outside Charlotte’s cell.
“Practice on him,” Charlotte said, though I couldn’t see her from where I stood.
The woman visiting her cell turned to me. Blonde and with a firm expression, she reminded me of Callyn, the soldier who’d requested hospitality at my house in Lanhine before killing my father in self-defense. She spun back to Charlotte and whispered. I was certain I heard the word “pyforial.”
“He won’t hurt you,” Charlotte replied in a motherly tone, as if I were the family dog.
“I don’t have much time,” I told them both, now standing beside the young woman in front of Charlotte’s cell.
“I think he’s being honest,” the young blonde guessed.
“Yes, good.”
I looked at her pointedly. “Could I speak to Charlotte alone?”
She took a step back and looked to Charlotte for guidance.
“Ask him a question.”
“Um, is your name Neeko?” She seemed reserved, as if scared I would bite.
“Yes. Please, it’s important I speak to Charlotte.”
“Is it very important?”
“Yes.”
She looked back at Charlotte, pride thick in her voice. “He’s telling the truth. I can tell.”
“Good. Neeko, say something that could be a lie.”
I felt like I was talking with children. They were too involved in their game of psyche to understand I was in a hurry.
“I don’t have time for this!”
“Truth again!” the young woman said, even more excited for herself. “Oh.” She seemed to have just understood, her mouth open in shame. “I’m sorry, Neeko.” She gave the most cursory bow to me, then to Charlotte. “Thank you.”
Charlotte, possibly sensing my curiosity, explained what I’d witnessed the moment the other woman left.
“That’s my best student, Cedri. I was giving her a lesson. I know you’re feeling rushed, so thank you for coming down here. I need to know if I’m still in danger.”
“You won’t be if you can help me.” I kept my voice soft and looked over each shoulder. Henry had his arms folded as he leaned against the wall, but I saw no one else.
“I can sense if someone’s near enough to hear us,” Charlotte said. “Explain.”
“Swenn is the man to worry about.”
“The king’s master of coin?”
“Yes. The rest of your party from Ovira helped me save someone he means to kill—one of a few people he means to kill, actually. And now your party knows he’s a murderer.” I spoke without elaboration, relieved that Charlotte could decipher lies from the truth. “I came back to the castle at the same time the news of your party’s interference reached Swenn. I didn’t know what he would do to you, but leaving you alone couldn’t possibly have been one of his choices.”
“Why hasn’t Terren come to the castle to tell the king what happened?”
“Swenn has many loyal to him. It would’ve been safer for everyone if you’d made it out of the castle to meet Terren. But because you didn’t, I’m sure Terren will come soon. He might already be on his way. Did you hear what happened with Swenn and his squire?”
“Yes. Will there be a trial?”
“It seems that way. That’s where I’ll need your help. Swenn will claim he confronted his squire about stabbing Shara and a fight ensued.”
“You don’t believe this is the case?”
“I’m certain it’s not.”
She studied me a moment, then gave an approving nod. “Only one problem, though. Your king didn’t have much trust in me before I attempted to flee. Now he has even less. Terren will get me out of this cell, but Quince will never let me be the judge of truth at any trial.”
“What about Cedri?”
“She’s skilled but not ready for something like that. She just found out her sister was killed in battle and suffers from terrible fits of grief that can strike at any moment. I know she seemed stable just now, but her mind’s clouded by misery.”
I felt chills as I thought of something. “Do you happen to know her sister’s name?”
“Callyn.”
My heart wrenched. Charlotte reached through the bars to grab my hand. “You knew her.”
“Yes. Cedri looks like her, just younger.”
“Cedri’s seventeen and used to train as a mage, but she’s shown promise with psyche ever since I stopped trying to teach thirty people at once and focused on one at a time. Others are showing promise as well.” She dropped my hand. “Has Terren told you what he has planned now that you’re not going back with them to Ovira?”
“It seems that they’ll leave without a pyforial mage, but they’ll stop here and take you with them.”
“I’m staying.”
It took me a moment to realize I’d heard her correctly. “After Quince’s men knocked you unconscious and put you in this cell?”
“I fought. They won. I don’t hold a grudge.”
Henry came to my side to show me his timepiece. Lunch would be served any moment. I thanked him and told Charlotte, “I have to leave soon. I’ll make sure Swenn pays for his crimes so all of us will be safe.”
“Find Cedri and tell her to meet me down here. I’ll train her as much as I can before the trial. However, I can’t do anything about your king’s decision about whethe
r to use her. He keeps a good distance from me now.”
“I’ll talk to Cedri.” I started to leave.
“Neeko, if you see Terren, don’t tell him they struck me to keep me here.”
“The bruise on your head says that already,” I informed her.
She touched it with care. “Bastial hell, there will be trouble when he finds out.”
Once we were out of the prison, Henry took me on a tortuous path. I felt lost among the stone hallways, each appearing identical.
Soon there were no other pathways, just forward, and we walked in the same direction long enough to make me believe we had to be approaching an edge of the castle. Coming to a turn, I noticed steps. They spiraled straight up.
My lamp fought against the thick darkness but not enough to see more than a few steps ahead of us. We climbed, the rhythm of our feet holding the same monotonous conversation for a long while until we finally reached a door. We had to be near the top of the castle, the sound of rain echoing around us.
Henry fiddled with his ring of keys, soon finding the right one. He got the door open and cold air blasted me in the face, wet and loud with the bombardment of rain. Thunder drummed. I stepped outside and looked around. My clothes were saturated before I figured out we were up on one of the castle towers.
I might’ve been able to determine the direction if a bit of sun could break through the dense clouds, but it was black as night. Wind tugged at my shirt as I came to the parapets and glanced down. The raised ground surrounding the castle separated us from the rest of Glaine, the city’s streets nearly empty.
I followed Henry along the wall. With no coat or hat, my body shook with shivers by the time we reached another door.
Once inside and out of the wind, I felt instantaneous relief, though I still needed to change before my shivers would stop. Lunch was probably halfway over by now.
“Let’s hurry.”
We descended the steps in a rush. They opened up to other paths unlike the other set. We came out onto the second floor, where Henry stopped and gestured with his hand, letting me take back the lead.
I ran to my room, turned my back on Henry, and undressed completely in front of my wardrobe, pulling out the first clothes my fingers came to.
Henry whistled just as I got my undershorts on. I looked over my shoulder and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
Wearing an annoyed expression, Jaymes sat at the one table on the other side of my room. I’m sure the sight of my bare ass hadn’t helped his mood.
“Is lunch over?” I asked in a fright.
“When I didn’t see you eating in the great hall, I went looking. Of course no one knew where you were. Nor could I find you.”
He’d be even angrier if he knew I was talking to the psychic. I dressed as quickly as I could. “I’m terribly sorry.” He still hadn’t answered my question about lunch, but I dared not ask again.
“So I thought I would wait in your room, figuring the only place you could be was outside the castle and you certainly would need a change of clothes when you got back.”
I finished dressing and walked to the doorway, apologizing again as I prepared to leave.
“Where were you?”
Why was he still sitting? “Beneath the castle, sir.”
“What in two hells were you doing there?”
I couldn’t keep lying. Swenn’s trial was coming up. The truth would come out anyway. “Visiting Charlotte.”
He jumped up. “Did she convince you of anything?”
“No. I’m not leaving, sir.”
“You will not speak with her again!”
“I will not, sir.”
“You will not be seen doing anything but training. You are allowed the following: Wake up, eat breakfast, train, eat lunch, train, eat dinner, train, sleep, repeat. Is that understood?”
What about the chamber pot… “Yes, sir. And about eating…”
“You have until the next call of thunder to finish lunch. Better move.”
I sprinted in a panic to the nearly empty great hall where I stuffed my mouth with food no longer warm and washed it down with gulps of water. Thunder soon boomed so loud everyone in the castle must’ve heard it. And there came Jaymes, stomping down the stairs. He showed me a look I’m sure meant he’d kick me in the rear if I was still at the table when he got there.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I tried to focus on the tasks Jaymes gave me, but I couldn’t get my copious worries out of my mind. He wanted me to disarm him at different distances, first a sword, then a bow. I made no improvement as the hours dragged on, wondering the whole time if Swenn had awoken and what Laney and Shara would say to him.
More importantly, what would he say to them? I didn’t like leaving them to fend for themselves. Even in his weakened state, Swenn was dangerous.
With the unrelenting rain, we couldn’t train in the courtyard. So Jaymes had taken me to the castle armory, where a clearing in the center for duels gave us plenty of space. Thin beds of straw had been stacked off to the side, making me wonder if people sometimes slept down here. Remembering Jaymes’ demands to do nothing but train, I had a feeling I would be spending most of my time in this room until the storm was over.
“You were better at this the first day,” Jaymes complained, putting his bow back against the wall with the others. “You’ve brought your body here but not your mind. You need both if you’re going to improve, and if you don’t improve, you’re dead the moment battle begins.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Spread out those straw beds,” he said. “Cover the floor with them.”
“What, all of them?”
“Yes all of them! Is that a complaint?”
There looked to be about fifty. “No, sir.”
After the better part of an hour I finished shifting them into place with py, covering about half the stone floor with hay bundles up to my knees.
“Show me you can lift yourself,” Jaymes ordered.
So I would be floating and the straw was protection in case I fell. I would’ve looked forward to showing him how I’d progressed, but recent events in the castle had been enervating. I felt like I needed a week of rest.
I collected myself, then began drawing in the py around me until I had enough. Jaymes stood close to watch my technique. There was no way to know if he was impressed when I hovered with ease, as he made no sound.
“Now what?” I asked.
“How long can you hold yourself?”
“As fatigued as I am now, not long.”
“Get down.”
I did. He folded his arms at me as I awaited his next command.
“We’re going to stand here until you’re no longer fatigued,” he mocked.
Too uncomfortable in the silence, I told him I was ready.
“Then make sure that’s the last time you use fatigue as an answer to one of my requests.”
I sighed, drawing in py once again. “Gods, I hope you don’t use the same line on your wife,” I muttered, my mind preoccupied with pulling in energy. I lost my focus as I realized what I’d just let out of my mouth.
He looked ready to tear my head off. Luckily he grabbed my wrist instead of my neck. “My wife is none of your concern!” He twisted to the point of terrible pain. Then he went a bit further. I stifled a scream.
“I don’t care who you think you are, recruit. If you keep making comments like that, you’ll soon be losing a hand. Do you understand me?”
“Yes!”
He didn’t let go. “This is just a warning compared to what I’ll do next time. Do you understand!”
“I always understand! No need to keep asking!”
He finally released his grip. “Why do you teenagers always think you’re clever?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
He gave me a moment for the pain to subside. “Feeling less fatigued now?”
“Yes, sir, much better.”
“I want to see you get on the py, move forward
over the straw, then lift yourself halfway to the ceiling.”
That meant getting about ten feet off the ground. I followed his instruction easily, so easily in fact that I decided to keep going until I reached the ceiling itself. I hovered there until I could determine Jaymes’ reaction. He wasn’t impressed. I let myself down, tilted the py, and jumped off.
“How quickly could you reach the ceiling at your fastest pace?” he asked.
I rubbed my aching wrist as I thought of how to answer. “I could get there quickly enough to cause serious damage if I slammed my head into it.”
“What about getting down?”
“It’s harder to control the speed. When I’m lifting myself, I’m holding the energy together and forcing it upward. But on the way down, I’m holding the energy together yet letting my own body weight push it down. If I were to will the energy to descend, I’d end up falling too fast and lose control.”
“How much higher could you go?”
I was starting to wonder why he cared. “Higher than I’d ever want to be. Hundreds of feet.”
“Show me you can move forward.”
I made the bed of py again, eased onto it, then forced it forward at the speed of a jog. But I soon found myself careening sideways.
As I tried to straighten out, I nearly fell off when I accidentally let the py bend near the middle. I flattened it, but somehow I’d gotten too low so I jerked myself up before I crashed into the straw. The py rose too quickly at its front. I overcompensated, lifting the back end too high, and next thing I knew I was flipping forward, the py dispersing.
I landed on my side, rolled a bit, and came to a stop, supine. Both arms and one cheek burned from scratches but I was fine otherwise.
Jaymes stood over me without offering a hand.
I sat up. “Why does floating matter to you?”
“What’s easier to catch, a dog or a bird?”
“I see.”
“What’s easier to shoot?”
“I get it.”
“What’s easier to kill?”
This man… “The dog,” I grumbled.
“Do it again.”
I was overjoyed when, hours later, my plan eventually came to fruition and I was too bloody to continue. After I’d fallen enough times, my skin had opened. Jaymes complained because he didn’t want the straw marred with blood. I let myself fall more violently after that.