by Wendy Wang
It only took the length of a breath for his arrogance to turn to fear. His face darkened with terror as he grabbed on to the edge of the opening. His gloved fingers scraped across the wooden planks but somehow he managed to keep his upper body above the hole in the floor.
“Don't do this,” he said, desperation filling his voice. “They'll come looking for me here.” The root tugged harder and his hands slid across the old oak planks.
“Mama don't,” Cilla managed to say, her voice full of gravel. “He is still their father.”
A dark shadow crossed the cloudy hazel eyes of the woman and her knuckles whitened. The struggle to protect her daughter and her grandchildren and even Sorrel flitted across her face. Cilla pushed herself to her feet. She touched her hand gently to her mother's. “It's all right mama. He won't hurt us. I won’t let him.”
“Cilla. Cilla please—” he said struggling to keep out of the hole.
“Tell my mother you won't hurt us. Or this girl,” Cilla said.
“I won't hurt you. I won’t hurt anybody. I swear it. I swear it on Jerugia’s crown.”
“He’s lying,” Tahlulah said and raised the spoon a little higher. Egan’s head disappeared. Only his hands remained, fingers straining to hold onto the edge of the floor.
“Mama,” Cilla’s voice said. “It's all right.” She pressed her mother's hand down and Tahlulah did not resist. She lowered the wooden spoon and the root released him. He scrambled out of the hole to his feet, grabbed his baton from the floor and held it up, aiming it at the woman.
“Egan,” Cilla said her voice full of warning. “You swore.”
“You have until Friday,” Egan said. “If I come back Friday and she's not here or she's not ready to be presented to the emperor, I swear to Jerugia I will rain down an army on your head.”
“Just go Egan,” Cilla said.
He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. “Friday.”
All eyes followed him as he disappeared through the door to the kitchen. The screen door slammed and thunder clapped overhead. He was gone.
“On my dear are you all right,” Tahlulah said running her knotted fingers gently over her daughter's throat. Tom threw himself against his mother’s hip, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. She stroked his hair, soothing him.
“I'm fine,” Cilla said forcing a smile. “I promise I'm fine.” Cilla glanced to Sorrel sitting on the stairs. “Well, turns out you're full of surprises. So you're a Metal Kael.”
“Yes,” Sorrel nodded. “I am.” She pushed herself to her feet and retrieved the metal star she had thrown at him. One point was covered in his blood. She closed her eyes and willed the metal to incorporate the blood imbuing it with the ability to do more than just make a man like Egan Crane bleed. When she opened her eyes the blood had disappeared. “What affinities does he have?”
“He's a Fire Kael. That much you've seen. He also has an affinity for water.”
Sorrel nodded and sliced the sharp blade of the star across her palm.
Horror marred Tahlulah’s delicate features. “What are you doing?”
Sorrel smeared her blood across the blades and tips of the star. The metal absorbed it on her command. “I’m making the metal stronger. It's something the queen showed me how to do.”
“You’ve seen the queen?” Tahlulah asked.
Sorrel nodded. “Yes. She is my friend.”
“The new queen?” Cilla asked, her tone implying doubt. “How—how is she?”
“Tougher than I thought she would be, but nice. Really nice.” Sorrel called up a smile. “Can you heal this?” She thrust her hand out towards the two women.
“Of course,” Tahlulah said. “Come into the kitchen and then you can tell us all about the queen.”
******
The two women sat spellbound as she spoke, and Sorrel wasn't quite sure how to take it. No one had ever listened to her so intently before, or when they did listen, there was usually a pained look on their face as if they couldn't wait for her to stop talking. She forced herself not to embellish, telling them how she had sent drawings of her visions to the queen, and how the queen had come looking for her. She told them of her time in the palace and how the queen had insisted on retrieving Jorgen and Raemah, how she had fallen defending them during the attack.
Tahlulah's hazel eyes darkened. “Do you think she was mortally wounded?”
“I don't know,” Sorrel said softly. “She’s very strong and the chief commander moved her out very quickly. So maybe she’s still alive.”
“We would've heard by now.” Cilla’s fingers tightened around her teacup and a deep line formed between her brows. “Surely we would've heard if she were dead.”
“Unless they didn't want us to.” Tahlulah gave her daughter a pointed look. “If she was dead and they didn't want things to fall apart they would keep it from us.”
“What things?” Sorrel asked her eyes volleyed from Tahlulah to Cilla and back again as the two women exchanged a look.
“Nothing dear,” Tahlulah said. She rose from the table, and the fine china rattled as she put it in the sink.
“Cilla?” Sorrel asked.
“Since you're going with Egan it’s better if I don’t say.” Cilla shrugged one of her petite shoulders and gave her a weak smile. “He's taking you to Peter Declan. He’s a Wood Kael. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Sorrel sighed. It meant there was no hope she could stay here with them, and it meant when she did go, Peter Declan would see right to the heart of her. “You’re right. Best not to say anything. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I brought harm to you. I should have just gone with him.”
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Tahlulah said. “It’s not as much time as I wanted, but there’s still plenty we can accomplish before he comes for you.”
“What are you talking about?” Sorrel asked.
“I’m talking about making a difference. If you’re up to it,” Tahlulah said.
“Mama no,” Cilla hissed.
“It’s not up to you or to me. It’s up to her,” Tahlulah said, her eyebrows lifted and her mouth crinkled.
“What would I have to do?” Sorrel asked and a wide smile stretched Tahlulah’s lips.
******
Sorrel flipped the coin over the tops of her knuckles, and then fed it up through her hand and pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. The corners of her mouth pulled up but didn’t quite make it to a smile. What if he took her coins away? How would she protect herself then? She closed her fist around the coin, the metal cutting into her palm.
She’d spent the last two days getting used to her voice and practicing turning her coins into stars and back again. In between she took long walks with Tahlulah and Tom. She showed the boy how to throw a star the same way the queen had taught her, and they both improved hitting their mark. Every once in a while Tahlulah would look at her with watery eyes and apologize for not being able to stop Egan from taking her. It was clear the older woman hated her son-in-law, but she also loved her daughter, and Cilla wouldn’t hear of banishing Egan from coming here to see his sons, no matter how she felt about him.
“A drupal for your thoughts,” Tahlulah said sidling up next to Sorrel on the top step of the front porch. The sun was almost behind the green hills and the pink and orange splashed across the cerulean sky.
Sorrel handed her the coin in her hand and Tahlulah laughed. She grinned at the warmth of the hearty sound.
“I am going to miss you Sorrel Qinsa,” Tahlulah said. She held the coin out and Sorrel took it. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
“I’m going to miss you too Tahlulah. And Cilla and the boys. I’m sorry if I caused you trouble.” She met the older woman’s gaze. “I will never be able to repay you.”
“You have caused me no trouble girl, and the only thing you owe me is to take care of yourself.” Tahlulah put her hand on Sorrel’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. The skin around her eyes crinkl
ed and her mouth twisted into a grimace. “I just—I just wish I could do more.”
“Maybe you can,” Sorrel said holding up the coin. “I have three of these that are imbued with his blood. I need to hide them in case I’m searched.”
Tahlulah’s mouth widened into a grin and her sharp blue eyes glittered. “Now, that is something I can help with.”
Eleven
As promised, Egan appeared Friday morning bright and early ready to take Sorrel. Tahlulah wrapped her arms around Sorrel and hugged her close.
“Remember what we talked about. Keep calm. Project confidence. Don’t let him frighten you. He wants something from you. Use that to your advantage. Understand?” Tahlulah whispered against Sorrel’s ear. In just the span of a couple of days Sorrel had come to love the old woman and her daughter making her wish she could stay, and somehow be part of their family.
“My turn.” Cilla smiled, but her lips turned down at the corners and it came out as more of a grimace. She folded Sorrel into her long, slender arms and held her close.
“You’ll be fine. I believe in you,” Cilla whispered. “Just believe in yourself and trust no one. All right?”
Sorrel nodded. “All right.”
“Bye Sorrel,” Tom said. He held his little brother’s hand and whispered into his ear. They both raised their hands waving and Sorrel smiled and waved back.
“Bye Tom. Bye Danny.”
“Jerugia’s crown! Are you to say goodbye to the whole damned town?” All of the women frowned but Egan didn’t seem to care. He grabbed Sorrel by the elbow and yanked her towards him. “Come on let’s go.”
She followed him to the end of the dirt road where they landed originally several days ago. He held his baton in the air circling the tip, thunder rumbled in the sky and he pulled her to him just as a bolt of lightning descended, blinding her, taking her to meet her fate.
******
Sorrel landed hard on the ground, and red dust kicked up around her making her cough. When she finally looked up a jagged wall made of rock, metal, and wood loomed before her. Mud packed into the haphazard structure held the whole thing together, but every few feet there were small openings, just large enough to accommodate a hand holding a baton.
Egan grabbed her arm just above her elbow and yanked her to her feet. He pushed her close to the wall. “Do you know what this is?”
Sorrel gritted her teeth. “No.”
“Look closer.” He pushed her by the back of her neck, shoving her face into one of the openings. Her hands flew up flattening against the stone to keep from losing her balance and a tremble shook through to her bones. Her nerves prickled with fire from her fingertips to the tops of her arms, and she jerked her hands away, almost toppling forward. His hand released from the back of her neck and she steadied on her feet again. She opened and closed her hands, chasing away the lingering burn.
“What is this place?”
“A labor camp,” he said. “This one is to feed the two realms now under our rule.”
She scoffed. “Our rule?”
“Yes. Our rule.” Egan narrowed his eyes and little drops of spittle wet her face from the force of his words.
“Do you really think you’ll win?” she said, wishing the queen had taught her bravery as well as blade skills.
“We already have.” His lips twisted into a sneer and a chill swirled around her heart. He gestured towards the opening again. “Take a look.”
Her gaze followed his hand and she focused on the scene before her. Fields and fields of vegetables stretched out towards orchards and olive groves. Working among the rows were hundreds of Kaels. Each had some sort of black bands around their wrists and men in black uniforms with batons walked among them. Most people ignored them, but some cowered. She blinked hard, swallowing back the lump in her throat. A small figure of a girl caught her attention though. The girl’s long black hair and black eyes were unmistakable even at this distance. Raemah. Without thinking, Sorrel put her hands on the wall again. The burning started immediately and she jerked them away, shoving her hands under her arms. Was Jorgen here too?
“I assume you’re looking for your boyfriend. Yes, he’s here,” Egan said. His lips twitched with the hint of a cruel smile.
Jorgen walked down the path between the rows towards his sister. He had a metal canteen in his hand. Dust kicked up and swirled around them as Raemah took the container and drank from it.
“Jorgen!” Sorrel called out. Sharp pain traveled across her scalp as Egan dug his hands into her hair and wrenched her away from the wall. A half scream escaped her mouth before she could react.
“Shut up.” He gritted his teeth and pitched his voice low.
Tears squeezed from the corner of her eyes and he turned her face towards his, forcing her to look him in the eye.
“Stop crying,” he ordered. Shocked, her tears dried up as fast as they came. “You see your little friends. They’re alive and fed because I will them to be. Do you understand me?”
Sorrel swallowed hard and nodded her head.
“You do as I say and they will continue to stay that way.”
“What do I have to do?”
“All you have to do is become the emperor’s new favorite thing.”
“H-how?” She bit her lip trying to stop the stutter before it started again.
“Well, you see the emperor’s daughter is missing and you are going to help him find her.”
“I can't control what I see.” Sorrel glared at him and her jaw tightened.
“I want to make it very clear what's at stake if you fail me,” he said. He twisted her head back towards the fence and her gaze settled on Jorgen and Raemah bent over a row of what looked like Oglar squash. Raemah made a face and put something into a bucket. They were hand picking worms from the squash. If they’d been at home, Raemah would have made a soap and herbal spray to keep the worms away.
“Are you going to kill them?” Sorrel’s voice trembled but her stutter remained under control.
“There are worse things than death.” His fingers tightened sending fresh pain across her scalp.
“What I see comes from the gods. Not from me.”
“Then you better find a way to make the gods talk to you. Do you understand me?” He gritted his teeth losing patience.
“Yes.” Sorrel's mouth twisted into a knot. “Just know I cannot lie.”
“Then make it your truth. It’s up to you how you interpret your visions isn’t it? Otherwise you and your little friends will be praying for death by the time I’m done with you.”
“The emperor is a Wood Kael isn’t he? Won't he know if I'm telling the truth or not?”
“It's not his primary affinity. He is very good at reading people but I think if anybody can fool him, you can. You certainly have the queen on her toes.”
“Everything I told the queen was true or at least what I saw.”
“That's all you have to do for the emperor, just tell him the truth of what you think it means. Do you understand?”
“And if I don't?”
“Then I’ll introduce you to the emperor’s latest triumph. A place called the Withers and it is exactly how it sounds. A place where all Kaels wither into nothing. Every affinity is stripped away leaving them mad.”
Panic wrapped its cold fingers around her heart and squeezed. “So they would be culled?”
“No. It’s worse. Culling is fast. This is—not.”
“And you’ll keep them safe here?”
“As long as you cooperate,” Egan said.
“All right,” she said, her gaze drifting to the opening for one more look at Jorgen and Raemah. “Then take me to the emperor.”
******
He walked her through the city of Eschela and she kept her eyes straight ahead, trying not to pay attention to the people that stopped and stared as she passed.
“I want you to take heed,” he said, his grip on her arm still tight. There would be bruises. “Every single person here tha
t stops and looks at you is memorizing your face. No one will hesitate to turn you in if you try to escape. They've seen what the emperor can do. They're not willing to risk their lives for yours. And really all it's going to take is for the emperor's cousin to read you or them. If you try to escape, you will be killed. If you manage to escape by the grace of some miracle every person can be read to find your movements throughout the city.”
“You're charming you know that?” Sorrel scowled.
“You think I'm charming just wait until you meet the emperor.”
They entered a checkpoint at the gates of a large stone building with tall marble columns and a wide copper roof. The copper sign on one of the outer posts by the gate had turned green and the letters that had once marked this place as the governor’s mansion were scratched through.
Sorrel’s stomach wrenched and she dragged her feet a little as Egan walked her up wide marble steps leading to gilded double doors. Once inside, they wound through a maze of hallways with tall ceilings and fancy artwork. She slowed to take in a pastoral scene and he growled at her to keep moving and he pushed her forward. On the second floor Egan stopped in front of a pair of heavy carved doors.
“All right.” Egan pitched his voice low. “It's time for you to show what you can do.” He rapped on the door hard three times.
“Come,” someone yelled from the other side of the door. Egan reached for the knob but one of the doors opened before he could touch the shiny brass. Another man, dressed in the same black uniform as Egan nodded and gestured for them to enter. Egan pushed her forward into a large office.
Books lined the walls to the left from floor to ceiling, and an ornately carved mahogany desk sat in front of a bank of windows with doors leading out to a terrace. To the left was a sitting area with a plush green sofa and coordinating chairs. A pretty young woman sat on the sofa, a book on her lap.