A flash of blue light blinded me. It felt like something was squeezing me on all sides, and I thought my skull would crack. I screamed, but no sound reached my ears.
Then the pressure disappeared, and I sucked in a breath of air. Anazian still gripped my wrist, and he started walking, tugging me along in his wake. I stumbled along behind, trying to gather my scattered wits.
When I finally became aware of my surroundings, I saw that the trees had changed. No longer were they the pines I’d grown familiar with. Around us now was an oak wood, and just ahead, a forest of darkness: ancient, wizened trees I didn’t recognize whose canopy let no moonlight through at all. What had happened? Where were we? I pulled against Anazian’s hold on me.
He stopped and turned to me. “I have no patience for any of your childish whining.” Despite the harsh words, his voice sounded breathless and a little weak, much as I felt. “You can come with me of your own will, or I can force you to do as I say. You choose.”
I glared at him, though I was sure he couldn’t tell in the nearly pitch darkness. But of course, the truth was I knew I had no choice in the matter at all. He knew it, too. When he turned and started walking again, I forced my feet to follow. We entered the dark wood.
The vibrations coming from the trees didn’t feel anything like those near the cave. As we walked, I concluded Anazian had somehow transported us from one place to another, and I had no idea whatsoever where we were. I reached out for Xyla or any of the other dragons, hoping we hadn’t gone far, but the brooding of the trees pressed in on me, reflecting my thoughts back. It almost hurt.
We hadn’t gone far when we entered a small clearing. The moon had risen high enough to shine down onto a small thatched cottage and a stable. Anazian led me to the stable, opened the door, and went inside. He made a limp motion with his hand, then let out a disgusted sigh.
“Took more out of me than I expected,” he muttered under his breath. He closed the door behind us, and I heard the bolt slide home. “Don’t move,” he commanded, and not wishing to crash into anything in the dark, I obeyed.
A moment later there was a spark that grew into the flame of a lantern. Two horses in stalls nickered softly. Taking up most of the space, however, was a wagon on which stood a large cage made not of metal or lumber but of raw branches about two inches in diameter.
Anazian took my arm and forced me to the side of the wagon. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then reached up with his free hand and ran it across the branches. They quivered for a moment, then softened and grew lax, leaving an opening.
“Get in,” Anazian said, pushing me.
“What?” I exclaimed in disbelief.
He spun around and faced me, taking hold of my upper arms so tightly I was sure I’d have bruises. He brought his face near mine, and his eyes burned with a terrifying fire. In a low voice so threatening it almost stopped my blood in my veins, he said, “Do as I say, and do it now. My patience is gone. If you want to be both alive and in one piece an hour from now, get into the cage. This instant.”
He shoved me at the wagon, slamming me into it and almost knocking the breath out of me. I didn’t need to be told twice. Forcing air into my lungs, I climbed unsteadily up, then squeezed my way through the opening. The branches seemed to give a little bit more as I passed, though the bark of them scraped my skin and snagged at my clothes.
Once I was inside, Anazian ran his hands across the branches again, and they straightened at his touch. He stood watching me, a satisfied expression on his face. “That will do,” he said, turning away.
“What are you going to do with me?” I asked in a small voice that shook with fear.
Anazian turned back to me. “And you thought you were so smart. I daresay you’ll find out soon enough.”
A hatred deeper than any I’d ever felt before flared in my heart. I bit back any more questions, not wanting to give him any more fuel for his humor.
Anazian took the lantern and left. I listened without moving until I heard the sounds of the cottage door opening and closing. Sure that he was really gone, I pressed myself against the branches that formed the bars of the cage.
They didn’t budge.
I ran my hands across them just as Anazian had done, trying to find the flexible part. Perhaps I’d got turned around in the dark. I crawled to the other side and tested the cage. Nothing.
One at a time, I pushed, pulled, and tried to twist each bar. With the same result: they were as fixed as if they were iron.
Carefully, I tried to stand, but the top of the cage wasn’t quite as high as my shoulders. It, too, was made of more of the branches, and I tried to find a weak spot among them. To no avail.
Now convinced I was caged like a beast, I wept. First, tears trickled down my cheeks, and knowing I was alone, I did nothing to stop them. But they offered no relief to my pent-up emotions, and soon I was beating my fists on the floor in frustration. I screamed at Anazian, demanding he free me and take me back where I belonged. I even threatened to kill him if ever I got my hands on him.
But all this outburst did was leave my hands bruised and aching, and my throat raw.
Eventually the storm subsided into quiet sobs and finally into silence. The vision of Grey lying on the ground filled my mind. Was he dead? Could he be alive? The horror of it all swept over me and took my breath away. Perhaps Chase had found him; surely he would’ve known from their link that something had happened. I imagined the brown and white hound using his cold nose to prod Yallick awake, then leading the mage to where Grey lay bleeding. Maybe Traz had healed him as easily as he’d healed Breyard. Yes, I was sure Chase wouldn’t let his master die cold and alone in the dark. But would there have been enough time? I moaned in despair that I could well be the cause of Grey’s death.
Once I’d grown calm enough to think clearly, it occurred to me that I’d been acting like a witless animal, as if I didn’t have any power of my own. I sat in the center of the cage and closed my eyes. Not that doing so made a real difference, but following a long-established routine helped my concentration.
When I summoned my maejic, though, nothing happened. I tried speaking to the horses, but they didn’t respond. I opened up to receive the life vibrations around me. When we’d passed through them, the woods had felt bitter and hateful; now, there was nothing. I tried to warm myself, something I’d learned while crossing the mountains on foot. By this time, I didn’t expect anything to happen so wasn’t prepared for the blast of power that rebounded onto me, churning through my head and heart. I sat frozen, willing it to pass. When it finally did, it left my head throbbing and my ears ringing.
I lay down and tried to sleep. But a bare wood floor is hard to sleep on, and while it wasn’t as cold in the stable as it was outside, neither was it comfortable. When light started to outline the chinks in the board walls, I had had no sleep, and I needed badly to relieve myself.
If there was a window in the stable, it must be covered over, for the whole day it never grew much lighter.
And, indeed, the whole day passed. My stomach growled and I grew thirsty. These were things I knew from experience I could endure, at least for a short time.
But nature’s call cannot be ignored forever, and eventually I found myself screaming once again for Anazian to let me out.
At last, desperate for relief and unable to hold it any longer, I took my best guess as to which corner of the cage was lowest and did my business in it, hoping I hadn’t misjudged and wouldn’t be crawling around in my own mess before long.
The hours crept by. I must’ve dozed at some point, because the stirring of the horses woke me up. They must be getting hungry, too. What on earth was Anazian playing at, leaving me trapped in this cage and even letting his own livestock go hungry?
The stable walls had gone completely black again, and it was growing more difficult to ignore
my hunger and thirst. To judge by the stamping and whinnying of the horses, they felt much the same.
When, then, I heard the sound of a door slamming, I thought it must be my imagination, which, between the fear, the discomfort, and the renewed darkness, had already begun overreacting.
But a moment later, the stable door opened and Anazian strode in carrying a lantern. He was clean-shaven and had combed his hair. Back before I knew he was a traitor, his vanity had amused me. Now it made my anger smolder deep in my breast. Here I was, starving, thirsty, and almost literally sitting in my own stink while he’d spent the day pampering himself. I bit back the words I wanted to spit at him and satisfied myself with staring insolently at him.
He set the lantern on a table and walked past the cage as if it didn’t exist. He put hay in the manger and poured oats into a bin. Soon the horses were munching contentedly while Anazian spoke to them in a comforting tone, his voice so low I couldn’t hear the words.
When he passed the cage again, he wrinkled his nose and made a face as, presumably, he caught scent of my mess. Next instant he was at the side of the cage, running his hands along the bars, which again grew pliant and flexed at his apparent command. This time, they left a larger opening. He leaned through and grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, dragging me out and tumbling me to the ground.
“Fah!” he exclaimed. “How dare you?” He reached down and pulled me to my feet, where I struggled to keep my balance after spending most of a night and day cramped and unable to stretch out, standing or lying down, to my full length. “How dare you do such a thing?”
I glared at him for a moment. “How dare you leave me in there so long?”
He slapped my face so hard I pitched to the ground again. Whatever weakness had overcome him last night, he was over it now.
“You will keep a civil tongue in that mouth or I will tear it out.”
Another jailer had used that same threat against me once, and now, like then, I believed it. I struggled to my feet, wiping a trickle of blood from my mouth.
“Now, sit there.” Anazian pointed to a stool next to the small table on which the lantern sat. I did as he said. He picked up a thick stick from the table and began rolling it between his hands. “Let us arrive at an understanding,” he continued. “I am in charge, and you will do as I say. You have had displays of some of my power, but believe me when I say that there is much you don’t know and can’t even imagine. I am itching to show off, so I suggest you not tempt me. Have I made myself clear?”
I nodded. A lump had risen in my throat, and tendrils of fear began to snag at my heart. My breath came in ragged shudders.
He breathed on the stick. “I daresay you remember the rapport I have with trees?”
As if I could forget. What seemed like a lifetime ago, he’d embedded my hands in the trunks of two of them, leaving me to die from exposure to the elements. Except that Grey had found me, thanks to Chase, and rescued me. An image of Grey lying blood-soaked on the ground at my feet filled my mind.
Anazian had paused, obviously expecting an answer, so I nodded again as I blinked tears back. He gave me a handsome smile.
“Then this should come as no surprise to you.” He stepped up to me and held the stick to my neck.
I let out a gasp of surprise. The stick was at least an inch thick and had been quite sturdy as he’d handled it; now, it bent as if it were a vine. He set it exactly in place, and I felt his fingers against my skin as he seemed to shape the thing. A moment later, he stepped back and admired his handiwork.
“Yes, that will do nicely. Now, there’s a pail in the corner there, and clean straw in the stalls. Clean up that mess you made.”
I rose from the stool and went to the dark corner he’d indicated. With my back turned, I reach up and fingered the wood that loosely encircled my neck. How had he bent it so easily? I shuddered. Then I picked up the pail, hoping no spiders or other crawlies were hiding in it. I almost asked for water, but decided that, assuming I would be spending the night in the cage again, I didn’t fancy having damp wood beneath me.
I picked up a large handful of straw and went to the cage. Using the straw like a rag, I swept the waste into the pail, then used a fresh handful to wipe the area dry. When I’d got it as clean as I could, I stepped away.
Anazian stood up and, using a foot so as not to have to touch it, he slid the pail over to the door. “Ruination of a perfectly good bucket, more’s the pity,” he muttered loud enough that I could hear. “Still, I don’t suppose it could be helped, after all. And it doesn’t really matter.” He took something from a shelf on the wall next to the door. “Change into this.” He threw it at me, and I caught it. A plain, white shift. “Now!” he shouted when I didn’t move fast enough.
To my intense embarrassment, he didn’t allow me any privacy while I changed. I turned my back to him and tried to be as discreet as I could. Whether he actually watched me or not, I never knew, choosing not to look and see what he was doing.
“Back inside,” he said.
I wondered for a split second if I could make myself follow his order, but when he reached toward me, I pulled myself together and climbed back on my own.
Shivering as he “closed” the opening again, I tried not to cry.
He picked up my clothes and the lantern and left without another word.
It worked. It was hard to do, harder than anything I’ve ever done before, but it worked! Long I sought the knowledge, and acquiring it was costly in both gold and energy. But it was worth the expense and more. I long to share this knowledge with my father. I am very sure it will help us accomplish our great task.
It is unfortunate, of course, that the spell takes a full day to prepare for and a day and a night to recover from. And it cannot take one as far as one might wish.
Ah, but when it is needful, what a wonder it is to move instantly from one place to another!
When I tried to sleep, I couldn’t get comfortable and instead simply tossed and turned. When my hand touched the wood around my neck, I sat up.
I examined it the only way I could in the dark: with my fingers. It wasn’t at all tight, though not loose enough to take off. It was a perfect circle and, strangest of all, had no beginning or end. How could Anazian do such a thing? I passed it endlessly through my hands, even dragging a fingernail along it, but could find not chink nor seam.
The night grew chill. I sat shivering for awhile, still fingering the wood collar. My maejic hadn’t worked the night before, but there was no reason not to try it again. After all, maybe it had just been the shock of everything that had happened. First, Grey getting stabbed and maybe—no, probably—dying. Surely Anazian knew exactly where to strike so that there would be no hope that his victim could survive.
Then there had been transporting instantly from one place to another. Now it occurred to me that perhaps that’s what had weakened the mage the night before. Hadn’t he said something to that effect? Maybe he hadn’t been ignoring the horses and me; maybe he’d been asleep or meditating, recovering from spending so much power.
Finally, there had been the shock and indignity of being put into a cage. I hadn’t even thought to meditate. I might not have candles, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t go through the routine.
Clear my thoughts. Breathe deeply. Find my calm center. Open my inner senses.
Closing my eyes again, I took a calming breath and, concentrating hard, I drew on my power.
A searing pain shot into my head, as if knives were stabbing my brain. Lights flashed riotously, and a roar filled my ears. Pressing my hands against my skull, hoping pressure might relieve even a little of the pain, I collapsed back into a heap on the floor of my cage.
At least this night I slept. Pushed past the point of exhaustion, my mind finally lost itself in oblivion. At least for a few hours.
I
awoke to the sound of the stable door opening. Anazian pushed a loaf of bread and a full skin of water through the bars of the cage. I wolfed down the loaf, wishing there were more, then drank my fill of water.
In the meantime, my captor fed the horses, and while they ate, he let me out.
“Help me load supplies,” he said. “We need to be on the road within the hour.”
For the next little while, I helped him. The cage took up about half the space in the wagon. We now filled the rest of it with stacks of crates and bundles.
“Where are we going?” I asked, surprising both of us. I hadn’t meant to voice my thoughts aloud.
Anazian didn’t answer. Instead, he tied the end of a rope to one of the iron loops bolted to the wagon and handed the rope to me. “Hold this taut.” He didn’t speak as together we tied the pile down securely.
“We will go outside now, and you will do your business there. I will not tolerate another mess. Do you understand?”
I nodded, hoping I looked more submissive than I felt. As if it had been my fault!
Outside, the air was fresh and cool. A blue sky overhead promised a pleasant day—for someone with the freedom to enjoy it, I thought bitterly.
I did what I’d been allowed out for, and a few moments later was back in the hateful cage.
Anazian opened a huge door along one side of the stable and hitched up the horses. He disappeared again. Maybe fifteen minutes later he reappeared, dressed in traveling clothes with sturdy boots.
He led the horses out, stopped them once we were clear of the door so that he could close and lock it, and then we were under way.
It felt good to be outside despite everything. Anazian walked alongside the horses, which I thought a little odd, but the path we followed was rough, and the horses couldn’t have gone faster than Anazian walked anyway. As the wheels rolled over the uneven ground, I pitched from side to side. I felt every bump and dip. Before long, my back and neck ached from the abuse.
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