I stifled a gasp. It was over.
I was wrong about who it was over for, however.
In a rapid series of motions, Rune kicked the broken blade toward his opponent’s feet, distracting him long enough to swing the hooked chain in his left hand. It wrapped twice around the neck of the axe, locked in place by the hook. Rune wrenched the taught length of the chain with all of his strength. Surprise broke across the brown haired man’s face as his weapon was tugged nearly out of his grasp. Capitalizing on this second distraction and the closeness of their position, Rune pulled the fist of his right hand back and punched the brown haired man square in the temple with the solid silver knuckle guard of the broken sword hilt he still held.
My jaw dropped open as the brown haired man fell to the floor, knocked out cold.
Time felt like it moved slower in that moment. Rune straightened up and for an instant, and his fierce blue eyes lifted in my direction.
Overwhelmed by the violence and frightened by the fire I had never seen in Rune’s countenance, I backed up three steps. I don’t know what I was thinking in that moment. In fact, I may not have been thinking at all.
I ran.
My surprise tactic worked because I was able to dash clear out the door. In fact, I had even surprised myself.
I’m pretty sure the words, “What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?” were screaming in my mind as I sprinted down the hall and skidded around a turn.
I could hear the pursuit behind me and that only made me run faster. I didn’t know where I was going and could only hope the hall led me out somewhere.
I exhaled with relief when I saw the stairwell through a stone archway just ahead of me. Once downstairs, I only needed to reach the stables to get away.
Before I could make it to the stairs, the unthinkable occurred: the stones of the archway began growing inwards. Like rocky plants, they crackled and laced toward each other, blooming, unfurling and pressing together until they made up a solid wall blocking my path. I had been sprinting so quickly, I couldn’t help but stumble directly into it. The rock that I hit was cold, hard and real. The impact hurt, but I was more concerned about being cornered.
In my frantic disbelief of what I was experiencing, I remembered what Dylan taught me. This was someone’s Ability, and I had to admit, it was a lot stronger than levitating cider from a cup.
I turned around with my back against the wall to face the Dragoon who had caught me.
It was March. She was crouched with her palms flat on the floor and after making eye contact with me, rose slowly to her feet.
She didn’t look even remotely phased by my attempted escape.
“Can you really blame me for trying?” I asked her. Her sober disposition didn’t soften at my frankness.
“Come with me,” she ordered rather than asked.
I sighed almost feeling hysterical with frustration.
“Well,” I said abysmally, pushing myself away from the stone wall. “What you said about keeping your Ability a secret until the most critical moment makes a lot of sense now.”
“Indeed,” she agreed, walking me back the way I had come. Three other Dragoons who had followed us took up a position behind me.
“Now that I know what it is, can you tell me what it’s called?” I asked, hoping that at least I’d glean a little knowledge from my failure.
She was silent for a few steps, probably considering the damage an answer could cause.
“The Shift,” March finally responded, and she did so quietly. “If this floor was tiled with wood instead of stone, it wouldn’t have been me who caught you.”
“Hurray for you. At least one of us is having a good day,” I said drolly.
When we returned to the balcony deck of the sparring room, I saw that the Dragoons training below were all gone, leaving only a few spatters of blood to prove that there ever was a fight.
“I trust your jog was pleasant,” said the deep, craggy voice of the Senior Commander. “Feel welcome to practice your escapes as frequently as you can. My Dragoons enjoy the sport. I can’t promise you won’t be harmed, however. Not everyone has as much… finesse as March.”
I was at a loss for words. The last thing I expected was encouragement. His absolute confidence that I would be easily captured time and again was very convincing.
“Interesting, though. Very interesting,” Fallux said stepping close enough to make me feel uncomfortable.
I had no idea what he found so “interesting” but whatever it was, I didn’t like it.
“What say you we bring her to the isolation room?”
“Yes, Senior Commander,” March replied, bowing slightly.
Again, my only option was to go where they told me. The height of my mounting resentment for being held prisoner was indescribable. I’d never felt so helpless in my life. It was maddening. I gritted my teeth and swore I’d never let myself be put in such a position again. It was lucky that near starvation was the sole brutality committed against me. No matter how tough I felt, I was still a seventeen-year-old girl among soldiers. I supposed that whatever a Lodestone was for, it was important enough not to let me be physically harmed. Something told me that Commander Stakes was waiting for a loophole to breach such protection. The mere thought of him gave me chills. I was glad he wasn’t in charge, but that wasn’t to say that Commander Fallux was any comfort. There was a great deal he was concealing and none of it good. Although his malevolence was steadier than the chaotic evil in Stakes, he was equally dangerous.
Fallux personally accompanied March and me down to the first floor. When we arrived at a curving, narrow hall made of wood and stone, March plucked the night goggles from the top of my head and held them away from me.
“Hey!” I protested.
Without so much as a word of explanation, I was pushed into a pitch-black room. My skin prickled and I nearly panicked again for being locked in another cell.
“Wait!” I cried, spinning back around at the closing door. The last thing I could see was the shrinking sliver of light from the outside corridor and Senior Commander Fallux’s wolfish silver-fanged grin.
The door was locked and the sound of it echoed throughout the room, hinting to me that it was much larger than I had first thought. Beyond that clue, I had no idea what to expect from the utter blackness.
Chapter 24: Isolation
The depth of the darkness surrounding me was absolute. I held my hand out in front of my face and saw nothing. There was a very slight draft and the airflow helped me keep calm. I wasn’t underground or in a small space, so there was no reason to let my fears take hold of me.
“Not afraid of the dark,” I whispered, finding some comfort in the sound of my own voice, just as I had in the mausoleum. “I’m not five years old. There’s nothing to worry about.” In truth, there was a lot to worry about.
There were no sounds to indicate that I wasn’t alone, so I put one hand on the door, holding the other ahead of me, and groped my way around one side of the room. My thighs hit something and I was startled enough to flatten myself against the wall.
“It’s okay,” I said, calming myself down. “It’s just… what is this? A table. Just a table.”
In fact, the table was so long it would have been impossible for me not to run into it. I held out my palms over the surface and touched something waxy: a candle. Hoping there were matches somewhere about, I patted around the table’s surface. My hands brushed what felt like an electric lamp and it gave me a slight zap, but no amount of prodding made it turn on.
“A candle and no matches. A broken lamp. What kind of a cruel joke is this?” I complained bitterly.
I couldn’t even begin to make out the next item I found. It was a small metal contraption. There was something bulb-like attached to the object, but again, I had no luck switching it on. I tossed it down in front of me and heard it clang into the lamp. There were no matches anywhere. Nothing worked.
Giving up on the incomplete items,
I clambered around the table to explore the other side of the room. My hand felt the hollow material of another wooden door. I brushed the metal hinges with my fingertips, but found no doorknob. There was still a draft in the room, so I stood up on my tiptoes, scaling the door with my hands as high as I could reach. Sure enough, I touched some kind of latch, but just barely. No matter how hard I tried, how far I jumped, or how much I stretched, I just couldn’t get a grip on it.
“Ugh!” I growled, hitting and kicking the door. I couldn’t see a single thing, and nothing would function. My frustrating helplessness was driving me crazy and my knuckles ached after they slammed into the door for one last furious punch.
That was when it became clear; this was a test. It had to be. I didn’t know what they expected me to do.
I was finished playing their games and sick and tired of being pushed around like a corralled animal. I was going to find a way out of this place or tear it apart trying.
It was a strange sensation, being completely blind. The child in me wanted to give up and cry for my dad again, but what good would that do me? The answer was, none at all. I got myself into this mess, and was determined to get myself out of it. My anger and defiance became the fuel that powered me on.
Stepping carefully around the black room, I found a narrow passage.
I could tell I wasn’t going in circles because when I put both hands out at my sides, I could touch both walls. The corridor became disorienting when the walls of the narrow hall broke apart in multiple places. Comfortable in trusting that nothing would hinder my steps, I hurried my random course. I turned left, left again, right, straight, made another left, and found myself at a dead end.
Reaching out, I felt the smooth paneling of another door. I exhaled with excitement and relief when I gripped and twisted a cool metal door handle. The responding click was like music to my ears. A short triumphant laugh escaped me and I pushed it open.
Light spilled out, handicapping me with a different kind of blindness. The brightness was painful and I squeezed my eyes shut and used my hands as shields.
I had barely been able to tolerate squinting when a shadow moved between me and the source of light. I straightened up, rubbing my eyes and blinking as my vision adjusted to a more comfortable medium.
The source of the shadow was the twisted visage of Commander Stakes, standing before a barred window. No Dragoons accompanied him. No Senior Commander stood by his side. It was just him and me. I stood like a rabbit, frozen before its hunter. We stared at each other and a wicked smirk peaked the corners of his mouth. There was a hunger in his eyes that frightened me to my core.
He lunged for me just as I tried to run. To my horror, he was quicker, and caught me by the throat. His hand was a grotesque mutilation of flesh and metal and as his grip closed around my neck I could feel the icy chill of his two inhuman claws ready to puncture my skin. I gasped for air, struggling to pry his hand away. Stakes jutted his lower jaw, clenched his teeth and slammed me against the wall. What little breath I had been struggling to hold on to was forced out of my lungs. The pressure around my neck made me want to throw up and it felt like my struggle for air was tearing at the inside of my throat. He may have looked gaunt, but his strength was inhuman.
Stakes brought his face close to mine and I squeezed my eyes shut rather than look at him.
“Not much of a fight are you?” he snarled mere inches away from my ear. “I’m going to drain you, Lodestone. Breath by breath I’ll take that pretty soul of yours. And how will it feel, all of that raw energy for myself? Sweet, sweet power. What’s wrong? You don’t look well. Oh. Air.”
He loosened his grip on my throat just as neon blotches and whiteness began to spot my vision. I rasped for as much oxygen as I could get.
“Enjoy it while you have it. Tick tock goes your clock,” he said maniacally.
“Can’t- hurt me,” I struggled to say. “Fallux…”
“Yes, he wants to go by the book and use you to the Prince’s purposes. He won’t always be in the way. Neither will that friend of yours, the very Common Lord Axton. He’s been trying to find a loophole to get you out of our custody. Which reminds me… a little girl came to the Installment yesterday. She demanded to have you released. Looked very familiar, but I can’t remember all the brats I meet. Who was she, I wonder? I’ve never drained a child. To be honest I’d quite look forward to the experience. So innocent, so pure. Oh and what power may lie beneath?”
Lina. He was talking about Lina. The kid actually had the guts to march up to this scary place and tell them to let me go. And Dylan… what was Stakes going to do to him? A tear leaked from my eye.
“I’ll s-stop you,” I hissed, locking eyes with him and feeling rage boiling up within me.
“No,” he said cocking his ugly head to the side, showing me the metal slashed side of his face. “You’ll die. Fallux has it all wrong. We don’t need to use you to find the other Lodestones. You gave us enough clues by showing up where you did. Should be easy enough now, and after draining you, I’ll be able to live long enough to see it through. Even if it takes the next hundred years.”
“Why?” I rasped.
“There is a wealth of power within you: I want it. And I want you to know, because it won’t change anything, and because I enjoy hurting people. You’ll see it all happen, step by step. You’ll know I’m getting closer. Your friends will bleed and you’ll know it was me. I’ll see all of that pain in your sweet, silver eyes when I come around to take you. Soon. Soon.”
And then he released me. I crumpled to the floor, dry retching as I gasped for air.
Completely composed, save for the usual insanity visible in his eyes, Stakes stepped three paces away from me.
Senior Commander Fallux came around the corner with a set of four Dragoons behind him. March was among them.
“What is this?” he demanded, seeing me on the floor holding my throat.
I mustered my strength and got to my feet. “Stakes tried to strangle me! He said that he’s going to get rid of you and drain me,” I said blurting everything out.
“Commander?” Fallux inquired coolly.
“An act, sir. She attempts to divide us,” Stakes said without even the hint of defensiveness.
Fallux ignored us both as if we had never spoken. He obviously was unconcerned by my warning. Stakes winked at me. My hate for him increased tenfold. He was right. Telling me made no difference.
“One proven Ability. Not a weak one either. Invaluable, really,” the Senior Commander said striding purposefully toward me. Every movement exuded his triumph. “A second Ability is all I need as proof that you are a Lodestone. Either you are a master of restraint, being here this long and not showing your other Abilities, or you truly don’t realize you have them.”
“I don’t have any,” I argued stubbornly.
“Then you would try to tell me that you do not have one of the rarest and most valuable of all Abilities? I just observed you in the Isolation room. You would tell me that I did not witness a masterful show of The Pull just moments ago?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know what that is,” I insisted.
Fallux laughed and I didn’t like the way it spread his metal split jaw and showed off his double set of fangs. “You know very well what it is. The Pull is the Ability to find whatever you are seeking. Large or small, near or far, familiar or unfamiliar, you can find anyone and anything without fail. For example, you just found the most direct route through a maze you have never encountered before, in absolute darkness.”
I swallowed and it hurt.
My world felt like it was upside down. What he said made sense but I didn’t want to believe it. It was ridiculous! I was just lucky. My rational mind told me it couldn’t be anything more than that. But people had Abilities here. I had seen them. Dylan had The Lift and March had The Shift.
How could I have discovered the path to the Outside World if I didn’t have an Ability that let me
find things? It was uncanny. Logically, I began to see how unlikely it was that I would find a direct route out of the Haven Mountains when none had done so in near seven hundred years, and how I was able lead Rune out of the honeycomb of cave tunnels. The more I thought about it, the more I could feel it, the very same way I felt a keen tug in the direction of home.
It was surreal and as much as I wanted to deny it, Fallux was right. I had The Pull. As soon as I had admitted it to myself, I wondered how I had never seen it so clearly before.
“And now you know it,” Fallux said sounding pleased. “Good.”
* * *
The brightness of daylight outside was a cruel contradiction to the deep shadows I faced within the fortress. On our way to my next test, the Senior Commander and his Dragoons led me to the ground floor and that was where I saw the warhorse.
We were crossing the wide stone entry hall when a shadow against the wall began to move without cause. Light pouring in from the main entrance only seemed to deepen the darker spaces in the hall, but lent no source for the blackness to move the way it did.
None of my escort seemed to notice or care about what was holding my rapt attention as we crossed the broad corridor. Only when I recoiled in fear of what I saw did they put hands on my shoulders to push me forward.
I stumbled, shocked by the impossibility that presented itself.
A skeleton, the skeleton of a horse, to be exact, lunged out from the deepest part of the shadow on the wall.
It looked like the shadow it had burst from clung to the moving bones like tar, and as its hooves clattered on the stonework tile, the shadow stretched and wrapped itself over the skeleton until there stood a black warhorse in full form. The excess of shadow snapped away from its glossy body and legs, retracting instantly to the darkness on the wall. If I hadn’t seen what I did, I’d swear that there was an average, flesh and blood horse standing in the hall with us.
Haven (War of the Princes) Page 17