by Kara Jaynes
Aaric tilted his head. “You aren’t loyal to Kingsley?”
The child sneered. “I obey so he doesn’t hurt me. But I’m not loyal. Just don’t tell him I said that.”
Aaric motioned to the lock. “How about letting me in, boy? Help me free Adaryn and I’ll free you too.”
Grinning ear to ear, the boy scrambled to unlock the gate. “You have yourself a deal, sir!”
Within moments, he pushed the gate open wide enough for Aaric to get in. He smiled down at the boy. “Thank you, boy.”
The child snorted. “I have a name, sir. It’s Caolan.”
“Nice to meet you, Caolan.” Aaric extended his hand, and Caolan hesitantly shook it. “Can you take me to Adaryn?”
The boy shot a look at the brightening horizon. “Yes, sir. But we’ll need to hurry. All of the slaves will be up by now.” He walked quickly to the side of the mansion. “Most of them will probably ignore us, but we’ll need to watch out for Ember. I remember when she lived in our clan. She had a temper to match her hair. Only her brother, Donell, could calm her down. She’s Kingsley’s hound now.”
Aaric nodded. Adaryn had talked about her old friend and her odd loyalty to Kingsley.
They entered a small door and found themselves in a cramped corridor. Caolan led the way confidently. They passed a few slaves, who looked curiously at Aaric, but otherwise ignored them.
They arrived at a rickety staircase and met a young woman walking down it. She had brilliant red hair. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw Aaric. He recognized her at the same time.
“I . . . must inform the master,” she turned to walk back upstairs.
Caolan summoned magic, blasting Ember in the back with a shimmering wall of light. Ember cried out in surprise and crumpled on the stairs.
Aaric stared, stunned. He wouldn’t have believed the young boy capable of casting that much enchantment. “Did you kill her?” Shades alive, he’d feel awful.
Caolan shook his dark head, but he looked shaken. “She’ll be fine, but . . . I never attacked my own kind before.” He climbed the staircase, looking down sadly at her as he passed. “She’d given up fighting him by the time I came. She wouldn’t even consider trying to escape.”
Caolan led him up the stairs and down a long hall with several doors on either side. One door stood slightly ajar at the very end of it. Caolan slowed. “It’s usually closed. Unless—”
The shrill scream of a woman’s voice cut through the air. Aaric felt as if his heart had stopped beating, hearing it. Adaryn. She screamed again, her voice coming from the far door.
Aaric started forward, but Caolan tugged on his vest, worry etched on his face. “Kingsley will kill you, sir. He’s killed before.”
Aaric pried the boy’s fingers off his vest. Caolan took a step back when he saw the expression on Aaric’s face.
“I’m not afraid of Kingsley.” He turned and sprinted for the door.
35
Adaryn
The collar hummed with energy. I lay on the floor like a dead thing. I had lost all sense of time. It felt like an eternity since I’d seen Aaric. My dear, sweet Aaric, now a prisoner. Because of me. It would’ve been better if we’d never met. I would have cried, but I didn’t have the strength.
The door opened. Face already toward the entrance, I saw Ember. She stood there a moment, then walked over and knelt down next to me. She cradled my head in her lap, smoothing my hair out of my face.
“Ryn.” Her voice quivered, calling me by my childhood nickname. “I am so sorry.” She choked on her tears. “I didn’t want this for you. Please believe me. I hope that I may someday earn your forgiveness, but I won’t even ask for it right now.”
“Ginger.” Kingsley stood in the doorway, anger on his features. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to be assisting my wife in her shopping today. You know this.” Ember started with surprise, and after laying my head down gently, leapt to her feet, wringing her hands. “I’m sorry, master. I was just . . . I mean, I will go.”
“See that you do,” Kingsley growled. “You will be punished later for your disobedience.”
Ember practically flew from the room, leaving me alone with the magistrate.
He walked over until he was standing in front of me. He pressed something on his brace, and the energy around the collar dissipated, the pain going with it. I choked and gasped with my relief. I had forgotten what it was like to not feel such agony.
He smiled at me, his green eyes cold with malice. “Are you ready to yield, Poppy?” he asked. “I’ve never had such a stubborn slave, but I think you’ll come to your senses yet.” His eyes narrowed, and his smile grew, his gaze traveling over my body. “You’ve lost too much weight since coming, but you’re still beautiful.”
I lay in a heap, considering my options. I was doomed to be Kingsley’s slave. I knew that now. I could either keep experiencing the collar’s pain and let madness take me, or give in and submit to Kingsley. Both options were intolerable, but they were the only choices I had. Unless . . .
A thought came to me, and I struggled to rise. I only made it to my hands and knees. It galled me that I couldn’t rise any further, but my strength was spent. “I . . . I will yield,” I whispered. The smug look of satisfaction on Kingsley’s face was disgusting. “If,” I continued, “you free Aaric, and allow him to leave the city. Ember told me he was in prison.”
I didn’t have time to react before Kingsley had knelt down to my level. Swinging his hand, he smacked my cheek so hard stars danced in my vision. I slumped to the floor, and tried to shy away. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and hit me—again and again. His face contorted with rage, eyes like sparks of green fire. “A slave—” He hit me with each word. “—does not make demands. A slave—” He slammed my face to the floor. “—serves her master without question and without hesitation. You will serve me, Poppy, or so help me, I will kill you.”
He said something after that, but I couldn’t hear him through my screams, blood trickling from my nose. I was going to die. Aaric, Aaric, please! Help me!
And he was there. My beautiful Aaric, gray eyes blazing with anger as he swung his fist down, hitting Kingsley in the temple so hard the magistrate was knocked out cold. He fell over me. I screamed again, panicking as Kingsley’s body slumped over mine.
Aaric roughly hauled the magistrate’s body off me, retrieved a small key from Kingsley’s brace, and carefully unlocked my collar, throwing it to the ground. I wrapped my arms around his neck, laughing and crying at the same time, as I rained kisses on his face, lips and neck. “Thank you,” I sobbed. “Thank you, Aaric.”
Aaric’s arms tightened around me, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He pulled me toward the door. “We need to go,” he said. “Time is running out.”
We met a small, collared figure by the door. “Caolan?” I said, my eyes widening with surprise. “When did you get captured?”
“Hi, Adaryn. Same time as you, months ago.” Caolan looked at Aaric, and motioned to his own collar. “You said you’d free me, sir.”
Aaric, still holding the small, delicate key, unlocked the boy’s collar. “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for helping me, Caolan,” Aaric said solemnly.
The boy rubbed his neck where the collar had rested and grinned. “You really showed him.”
“Yes, I did,” Aaric replied, his voice steely. “It was less than he deserved, but I avoid killing when I can.” He gently took me by the hand. “We must hurry.”
“I’m coming with you!” Caolan trotted beside us. “No way am I staying here.”
We walked down the hall and started down the stairs, Aaric half carrying me, and found Ember lying in a heap halfway down. I started to bend over her, to make sure she was all right, but Aaric steered me past her. “She’s his, Adaryn.” His voice grew angry, mentioning the magistrate. “We leave her.”
I paused a moment, undecided, and Caolan spoke up. “The inventor is right, Adaryn. Even if we free he
r, she’ll just go crawling back to him. She’s broken.”
I felt reluctant, but nodded. Aaric was my first concern, and I wanted to get him as far away from here as possible.
Stepping outside, I breathed the fall air deeply. It felt like a lifetime since I had stepped outside. Aaric led me away from Kingsley’s residence and down a street. It was surprisingly empty. I mentioned it to Aaric, and his grip around my hand tightened.
“The people of the city are either fighting or hiding right now,” he said. “Bran, Kenroc, and hundreds of others have come to take back their people.”
I looked up at Aaric. His face was dark and his jaw clenched. “Are . . . we leaving?” I asked hesitantly. He shook his head and replied, “We need to get to the Tower.”
“What? Why?” I asked. I didn’t know much about the Tower. Nomads didn’t spare much attention on the inventions that the people of Ruis created. It was a huge structure, and despite our magic, impenetrable. Nomads had tried to break into it—years ago—but were unsuccessful, and made slaves themselves. No one had attempted to enter since.
“The madness stops, Adaryn,” Aaric said, pulling me along. We passed by two guards fighting a nomad. But Aaric hurried by without a glance in their direction. “You’ll never be a slave again.”
The closer we got to the center of the city, the more people we saw, and it was complete chaos. People fought, nomads and non-magic users alike. My heart sank when I saw two nomads locked in hand to hand combat. One wore a collar. That the Oppressors now used their slaves as weapons made me sick.
Turning a corner, we found ourselves right outside of the Tower. The dark gray stone building loomed over us, several stories high. It was one of the taller buildings in Ruis. People screamed and milled in all directions, some fighting, some just blindly running, pushing their way through the crowds.
Aaric turned to Caolan. He had to shout over the din. “This is where we separate. If you head to the northern gates, you should be able to escape. Bran said he would destroy the gates, and from all the nomads I see, I think he was successful.”
Caolan shook his head. “I want to stay with you and Adaryn. What if you need me and my magic?” He eyed me somewhat dubiously. “I don’t think she’s strong enough to hold much magic yet. The pain of the collar does that.”
“Go boy!” Aaric roared. “I can’t afford to babysit you. If you see Kenroc, tell him Adaryn’s been freed. Now!”
Caolan hesitated only a moment before nodding. He turned and slipped away into the crowd.
Still holding my hand, Aaric crossed the street and up the steps of the Tower. The entrance door stood open. Aaric nodded. “That’s lucky for us. The guards must have joined the battle.” He eyed me anxiously. “How are you feeling?”
In truth, I felt awful. My legs felt like water and my head ached, but it was still an improvement on how I felt with the collar. “I’m fine.”
Aaric looked skeptical, but nodded. Releasing my hand, he fumbled with the bands that strapped his glider and arc-bow to his back. He pulled his arc-bow free and, reaching into a pouch on his belt, retrieved some small bolts.
“Those don’t look like they can do much damage,” I said, looking at them doubtfully.
Aaric shrugged. “They’re not meant to kill. The tips are coated in a substance that will cause one to fall into unconsciousness.” He coughed, looking awkward, and I remembered that he used one on me when we first met. I shrugged. They would get the job done.
Once inside the main room of the Tower, I looked around warily. I didn’t see anyone. I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad, and said as much to Aaric.
“Good,” he responded, walking over to some stairs. He brought to my mind a mountain cat on the hunt, balancing on the balls of his feet, and looking in every direction. “They must have left when the fighting in the streets started.”
I followed him. I summoned the magic, and felt relieved when I felt the faint stirrings inside of me. I hadn’t been able to find it for days and was beginning to wonder if the collar had burned it out of me.
Walking up the spiral staircase, I felt hidden eyes watching me. It was like an itch between my shoulder blades that I couldn’t quite reach. Every time I looked behind me, there was nothing.
A gunshot exploded through the air, and a small, dark blur streaked through the air between me and Aaric, shattering a piece of the wall behind us. I crouched, instinctively trying to make myself smaller. Aaric looked upward, lifted his arc-bow, took aim, and fired. I heard a shout of surprise, and saw a man tumble over the railing, falling to the main floor; he’d been hiding behind a pillar at the top of the next flight of stairs.
Aaric grabbed my arm, pulling me up the stairs with him.
On the next flight of stairs, two guards attacked us simultaneously. Aaric had already reloaded his arc-bow and shot one almost immediately. The second guard brought his musket up, aiming for Aaric’s heart.
The magic surged through me at that sight, and I lifted my hands. Blue fire exploded from my fingertips, slamming into the guard. He screamed, using his hands to flap at the flames. Aaric and I ran past him.
The stairs seemed to go on forever, and I was gasping for breath by the time we reached the top level.
There were two guards up here too. Aaric fired his arc-bow, hitting one of the men in the shoulder. I scrambled forward, and promptly tripped on the last stair, hitting the floor so hard the wind was knocked right out of me.
Aaric ran at the guard before he had time to raise his musket, kicking him squarely in the chest. When the man doubled over, Aaric followed with a punch to the face, and then to the temple. The man went down, senseless.
Aaric and I both stood there a moment, catching our breath. “Sorry,” I wheezed. “I fell.”
“That’s all right,” he breathed. His sandy brown hair was sticking straight up, his face flushed and sweaty. He looked exhausted, but managed to grin tiredly when he saw me looking at him. “We’re almost there.” He picked up his arc-bow where he’d dropped it, and walked over to a plain, wooden door. Putting my ear to it, I could hear a deep hum. I looked at Aaric quizzically.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“The machine,” Aaric whispered back. He slung his arc-bow over his back, and unsheathed a saber that was on the belt of one of the fallen guards. His mouth was a thin line of determination. “The arc-bow won’t be as effective in such close quarters,” he responded to my questioning look. “Are you ready?” he asked.
I nodded.
He swallowed, and without any further hesitation, kicked open the door.
36
Aaric
There were three men inside. Two were guards, the third was a man seated at a massive table of buttons, switches and wires. Aaric charged the guards, swinging his saber down to meet the guard’s steel. They sparred back and forth, the remaining guard trying to circle around behind Aaric. Adaryn never gave him the chance. She called her magic and blasted the guard backward so hard he slammed into the far wall. He fell to the floor and didn’t get up again. The guard Aaric was fighting snarled in anger, his brown eyes full of hate. “You’re the one,” he panted. “The inventor who betrayed Ruis. You’re supposed to be in prison!”
Aaric didn’t respond, his brow creased in concentration. The guard was a skilled swordsman, and he wasn’t sure he would get an opening, until, there! The man let his saber lower a fraction. It was all Aaric needed. His lifted his blade at lightning speed, plunging it into the man’s heart. He roughly pulled the sword loose, looking away.
The man sitting at the controls was old, with wispy white hair and watery blue eyes. He shrank away from Aaric, raising his hands in defeat. “Please, don’t hurt me!”
“Get out,” Adaryn snapped, pointing to the door. The man hurried to comply, leaving Adaryn and Aaric alone. The nomad leaned over the table to get a better look at the controls. “I don’t understand how this works.”
“I do.” Aaric walked over to inspect i
t. “I came here once with my father.” He pointed at a large lever. “This is the important one. Flip it and the energy will no longer be transferred to the braces and from those, to the collars.”
Adaryn nudged him. “Do it, then.”
Aaric swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and nodded. By doing so, he was turning his back on his father’s memory, his reputation, his own people.
But, he thought wryly, was I ever really one of them?
He pulled the lever. The humming slowed, then stopped.
Aaric sighed. “That’s it.” He unslung his glider, arc-bow, and rucksack, piling everything on the floor. He walked over to one of the large windows, overlooking the city. He smashed the glass with the handle of his saber Glittering shards piled at his feet and fell, sparkling in the air, to the city floor far below. He turned to Adaryn, and held out the glider. “It’s time for you to leave.”
Adaryn shook her head. “I’m not leaving you again, Aaric.”
He stepped forward, shoving the gilder in her hands. “You have to. It’s part of the plan. Bran needs to know when to fall back. You need to tell him. I’m going to place some explosives here and set them off with this.” He showed her a small device he had in his pocket. “I’ll do it right as I leave. Don’t worry, I’m going to be fine.”
Adaryn looked torn with indecision. Aaric continued. “Your father is out there, Adaryn. The sooner you retreat, the sooner he can get to safety.”
She nodded. “I will go.” She ran to him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in his chest. “Promise me you’ll come back to me.”
Aaric closed his eyes, breathing in the woodsy scent of her hair. He’d never tire of that smell. “I’m going to be fine.” He blinked his eyes furiously. Being apart from Adaryn, in light of all that had happened, pierced him to his core.
He stepped back, memorizing the sight of her. Adaryn’s brilliant blue eyes, her wild hair, her beautiful smile that was quivering with the effort of not crying. Taking the glider, she ran toward the broken window and leapt into the sky. Using the drafts of wind, she glided toward the ground. Aaric fervently hoped she would be all right. If nothing else, at least Kingsley wouldn’t be able to collar her again.