The Book of Kaels Bundle (Books 2 - 4): The Wood Kael, The Metal Kael, The Fire Kael

by Wendy Wang

  Sorrel held her hand out letting the fire’s warmth radiate over her arms. She scooted closer and laid down on her side, using her arm for a pillow. Her eyes grew heavy and she stifled a yawn. What if she fell asleep and awoke to find it all a dream? What if the disk was just a wish or a hallucination? Did hunger cause hallucinations? She wasn’t sure. Her whole body felt heavy, as if someone had poured sand in through her head and it held her to the floor. Two long blinks. The fire was still there. Still radiating heat onto her, making her even sleepier. Finally, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her. If she awoke to cold darkness, so be it. For now, she was warm, and someone out there knew she was trapped and that’s all that mattered in this moment.

  Seventeen

  Keys jangled in the lock and Sorrel bolted upright, slamming her hand over the metal disk snuffing out its light and heat. She shoved it into the waistband of her underpants and pulled her top down before jumping to her feet. The door opened wide, spilling light into the room. She shrank into the shadows backing up towards the wall but it didn't stop the two guardsmen from taking hold of her and dragging her into the hallway. They led her down the long corridor and neither guardsman said a word to her. She passed door after door and heard cries, and whimpering, and moaning coming from each one. There was a room up on her left. Its door yawned open, and she twisted her head as they passed to see if she knew the prisoner. A high-pitched shriek of the word “No” made her blood run cold. Two guards emerged holding a fighting, spitting, wriggling girl with a dirty face and wild black eyes.

  “Raemah?” Sorrel said under her breath. She struggled against the guards her head thrown over her shoulder trying to get a better look. “Raemah!”

  The girl stopped fighting and stared at her. “Sorrel?”

  “Raemah! It's me! It's going to be all right.” Sorrel didn't know why she'd said that, but it felt right. If she could give Raemah any comfort she would, even if it meant lying. The guard jerked her foreword but he couldn't stop her voice. “Raemah where is Jorgen?”

  “He's here! He's here! We thought you were dead,” Raemah said, sounding less like a wild thing and more like a 12-year-old girl. Another door opened and two guardsmen stepped out dragging a limp young man. He didn't look up but he didn't have to, Sorrel knew immediately by the curl of his hair.

  “Jorgen! Jorgen look at me!” Sorrel dug her heels into the stone floor but the guardsmen just lifted her off her feet. Jorgen’s head lolled from side to side revealing bruises that bloomed beneath his skin in varying shades of blue fading to green and yellow along his chin and neck. Pus and blood seeped from his swollen eye. Sorrel’s stomach wrenched. What had they done to him?

  They turned down another corridor tracking through the maze of the building, until finally, they came to a hall with two double doors that were flung wide open. Bright white light flooded the hallway blinding her for a moment. A man stepped into the doorway, light shimmering around his shoulders. For a moment her heart leapt into her throat and she thought maybe they had been saved. Maybe the stranger who had given her the disk was somehow going to rescue them. But as they drew closer Egan's icy blue eyes and dark wavy hair came into focus. Every ounce of hope drained from her body. This was it. He was going to kill them and no one would know—not the queen. No one. A grin stretched across Egan's face but there was no humor in it.

  “Hello Sorrel.” His eyes raked over her body and his grin turned to a sneer. “I see you’ve encountered the beetles. So many crawly things live here. My favorite is a hundred-legged creature that bores beneath the skin, and then eats its host from the inside out. When you start to feel it though, it’s too deep to do anything about it.” Sorrel recoiled and he chuckled.

  “Why are you doing this Egan? I did my best. I gave the emperor hope, just like you asked.”

  Egan's hand flew up and he struck her hard across the face. For a moment red and white stars filled her vision.

  He gritted his teeth, keeping his voice low and deadly. “That was your best? You and I still ended up here didn’t we?”

  Sorrel struggled against the guards but they held her in place. Egan pulled his arm back and punched her in the gut. Sharp pain flung all the air from her lungs, and for a second the world grayed around the edges. Derision deepened the lines of his face.

  “Take them to the post,” he said.

  She gasped for breath between coughs. For a moment she thought of just going quietly to whatever death he had planned for her. But what little fight she had inside her was not quite ready to be extinguished.

  “He’s going to turn his back on you, you know. Walk away from you forever with hate in his heart,” she said, her voice trembling with each word. “Hate you deserve.”

  Confusion shadowed his eyes, and his lip quirked on one side. “Who? Declan? He’s already turned his back on me. For now.”

  “No.” She jutted her chin, defiant. “Tom.”

  The speed at which he moved made her gasp. He wrapped his fingers around her neck forcing her to look him in the eyes.

  “You don’t know anything about my son.” The lethal foreboding in his tone slid through her, making her bones so cold she thought they might shatter.

  Sorrel blinked. “I’ve seen it. She’s going to take them away from you and you won’t see them till they’ve grown into men who hate you and all you stand for.”

  His fingers tightened against her skin, and his jaw clenched so hard his head trembled. He grunted, and the guards dropped her arms. He lifted her into the air by her throat, leaving her legs to dangle and her hands to beat and scratch uselessly against his leather armguards. Her breath left her body and her toes scraped the floor looking for purchase. The world swum in gray.

  “Stop it! She takes it back!” Raemah shrieked somewhere nearby. “Stop it! Don’t believe her! The future can change!”

  “How?” he barked at the girl.

  “You just have to change what you do. If you want a different outcome, then take a different path,” Raemah cried.

  He dropped Sorrel in a heap on the floor and took a step back before rounding on the girl. Raemah’s tears stopped with a loud intake of breath.

  Egan gritted his teeth. “Make an example of him, and make them watch. Then return these two to the fields.”

  Egan leaned into one of the guardsmen and whispered something. The guardsman nodded, his long face taut. Then he turned and walked away. The guards seized Sorrel by the arms, hoisting her to her feet again.

  They were led across a wide expanse of red dirt dotted with clumps of shrubby grass and weeds. Sharp rocks dug into the soles of her feet and she winced, stumbling. A baton shoved into her back made her straighten up though and she kept her eyes straight, not wanting to acknowledge the people—guard and prisoner alike—that stopped and stared.

  A large four-story building loomed before them. Its gray stone was cold and desolate against the red of the earth and the bright blue of the sky. Prisoners were being led out in lines by guardsmen, their footfalls echoing outward.

  She had miscalculated how many guards were here when Egan brought her the first time. They seemed to be everywhere.

  “Keep moving,” the guard said, jabbing his baton in between her shoulder blades, sending a hot jolt through her. The muscles in her back trembled and twitched. She stumbled forward, knocking into Raemah. The guard’s jaw clenched and Sorrel sucked in her breath, straightening up as best she could before he could do it again.

  They led them past a line of women, filing out of the building towards the wide expanse of fields. Long rows of vegetables covered acres, bordered by fruit orchards and olive groves. The fence surrounding the entire farm was fortified not only by soldiers but also with heavy iron spikes, razor sharp wire, and stone and wood walls. Her fingertips tingled and she wasn’t sure if it was from the jolt to her back or the memory of touching the wall. It was reinforced with something other than wire, and stone, and wood. Something she couldn't see but could only feel.

 
Sorrel glanced towards the line of women, scanning each face, looking for anyone she might know, but she didn’t recognize anyone. Every one of them wore the same wrist harnesses she did, suppressing their affinities, keeping them weak. If she’d just had more time, maybe she could have found a way to get them off.

  “Don't turn around,” a raspy, voice said from behind her. A voice she knew and loved. Jorgen. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at the queen's palace?”

  How could she explain everything in the space of three feet? She'd only been gone a few weeks but it felt like years.

  Sorrel kept her head down. Her heart beat so hard against her ribs she thought it might rupture.

  “I saw you,” she said softly over her shoulder, just loud enough for him to hear. “The day they attacked the village. The queen and I had come to get you and Raemah. To take you back with us. I was so scared they had killed you.”

  “You aren’t stuttering,” he said softly, reverently.

  Her cheeks heated and she choked out the words, “It's a long story. Maybe one day I’ll get to tell you.”

  “Your voice is so beautiful,” he said.

  Her eyes blurred with her tears, and it took everything she had not to turn around and just throw her arms around his neck and hold him close.

  “I thought about you,” he said. “Every day.”

  “I thought about you too.” Her voice quivered.

  A sharp jolt to her shoulder knocked her to her knees and she blinked trying to clear her vision.

  “Get up,” the guardsman said, his tone rough and commanding. “No talking.”

  Sorrel struggled to her feet and swayed for a moment. Her whole body ached and the muscles in her hand still twitched with electricity. Jorgen pushed against her gently, keeping his fist against the small of her back. His touch gave her the strength to move forward, but when she saw the posts in the clearing ahead her legs stopped cooperating.

  Tall, sharpened spikes jutted from the ground as if one of the gods had speared through the red crust of the earth. Sorrel’s stomach wrenched at the sight of two men, hanging from thin wires at their wrists and feet from one of the poles. They’d been stripped to their waists and left to bake in the hot sun. Bruises darkened several places on their chests and bellies and brown blood, dried by the hot constant breeze, caked on their arms and feet. A large black spot in the dirt beneath them drew her gaze and she could not look away. Was that their blood? Their sweat? Their piss? Their tears? Her hand went to her mouth, holding in a scream. She could take the darkness far better than this horrifying, slow death.

  Jorgen jammed his fist into her back, driving her forward again before one of the guardsmen could hit her with another jolt from his baton.

  “It won’t be that bad,” he whispered. “Not for you. But they’re going to make you watch.”

  His words slid through her heart—a sharp, icy blade of fear—how could he think for one second it wouldn’t be that bad? Making her watch as they tortured her love? And she did love him, didn’t she? Yes. The words had never passed her lips but that didn’t diminish her feelings.

  Two of the guardsmen seized Jorgen by the arms. His body trembled but he did not fight them. How could he? He was already weakened from who knew how many days of hunger, and thirst, and darkness.

  “Stop!” Sorrel stepped forward. Raemah wrapped her hands around Sorrel’s wrist, yanking her back, whimpering the word “no” over and over until it became a chant. Tears cleared a path down the girl’s dirty face and Sorrel pulled her arm from Raemah’s grasp. “Take me! Please!”

  The two guardsmen handling Jorgen laughed and began to wrap thin wire around his wrists and ankles.

  “Shut up,” another guardsman warned, taking hold of her arm and pushing her backwards. He stood directly in her path, too close for her liking. His gaze locked on hers and he spoke so low she almost didn’t hear him. “Just shut up or they will take you too. Not instead. Do you understand? Stop talking now and I can keep you alive.”

  Her gaze drifted to his hand and back to his face. He was the one who had helped her in the darkness, who had given her the gift of light.

  “Eryn has sent word,” he whispered. “The queen is coming.”

  All the sensation drained from her hands and legs. The queen was coming. They would all be saved.

  Jorgen’s scream made her blood turn icy in her veins and she squeezed her eyes closed. The guard’s hand clamped on to her chin, shocking her with its force.

  “You must watch,” he said loudly enough for the others to hear. Sorrel’s head and neck trembled. She could hold it in no more. What was her voice for if not a tool to stand up and be heard? Even if it meant pain. Even if it meant death. She would rather bear the brunt of punishment with him than watch him be tortured alone.

  “No!” She jerked her head away and ran towards the pike where Jorgen now hung several feet off the ground. With his arms stretched above his head, the wire cut into his wrist and fresh blood flowed down to his elbows before dripping onto the ground beneath him. His legs were tied to the pike just below his ankles, forcing most of his weight onto them. His feet were covered in blood and any little movement would cut further into his skin.

  One of the guardsmen caught her around the waist before she could reach Jorgen.

  “I’m here Jorgen,” she said, her voice quivering. “I’m here. Look at me. See me. You are not alone. You are not alone.”

  Jorgen’s gaze shifted to her and she thought she saw a hint of a smile.

  “I love you Jorgen Heard. Don’t you dare give up today! Do you hear me? You want to give up? Do it tomorrow. Today you push through.”

  Tears streaked his face, falling from his chin, mixing with the pool of blood growing beneath him. How many times had he told her not to give up today?

  One of the guardsmen touched his baton to Jorgen’s torso and a streak of hot blue light bit into his skin. The sound of his screams intertwined with hers and she fought against the guardsman holding her back. Several quick jolts to her back drove her to the ground writhing in pain. Somewhere close by Raemah wept.

  The queen was coming. But it was too late.

  ******

  Sorrel scraped the dull hoe blade through the soil, cutting down little weeds that had crept up overnight. Raemah shadowed her, kneeling down next to a squash plant yanking out weeds that were too close to the stem for the hoe. She threw them into the space between the rows where they would bake in the heat and die. Neither of them spoke. What was there to say?

  Finally, a horn sounded and the hundreds of Kaels toiling in the sun took their tools and moved towards the buildings.

  “Now we go inside and eat.” Raemah’s flat, shredded voice sounded as if all the emotion had been wrung out of her little body.

  “Then what do we do?” Sorrel asked, focusing on what to do next. If she could break it into steps, she could make it through. If she thought about tomorrow or the wide open future without Jorgen, she would melt into a puddle of insanity standing on this field.

  “Then we go to the dormitories and sleep.”

  Her lips felt numb as she said the words. “What happens to Jorgen?”

  “If he lives they’ll take him to the infirmary and heal his wounds, unless they want him to die. Then they’ll either leave him on the post or throw him in a hole.”

  Dread coiled in her belly. “A hole?”

  Raemah nodded and glanced towards the farthest fence line. Sorrel squinted unable to see what the girl was trying to show her.

  “There are dozens of holes dug deep into the earth over there. When they’re done with us, they throw us inside. Once everyone in the hole is dead, they just cover it up.”

  Sorrel’s heart sunk deep into her belly and she gritted her teeth. If she had learned anything from the queen and Tahlulah, it was to never stop fighting. Even if it meant fighting in small ways.

  “I am not going to let that happen. Do you hear me?”

  Raemah glanced
around, her face anxious. “We should go before someone notices we’re not moving.”

  “I’m going to get us out of here,” Sorrel said quietly. “All of us.”

  Raemah shifted her feet and nodded, taking a few steps backwards. “Let’s go Sorrel. Please? Before a guard notices.”

  Sorrel frowned but moved towards the single file line headed towards the building.

  When they got to the end of their rows each prisoner handed in their hoe to the guards and the tools were placed on a cart. Sorrel looked around trying to figure out how many people were here. The line seemed never ending. How were all these people going to fit into the dormitory?

  As they approached the building each prisoner took a metal bowl from another cart. Sorrel followed Raemah's lead, taking a bowl and then getting into another line.

  “If you smile,” Raemah said. “They will give you less. If you look at them with pathetic eyes though, sometimes they will give you more.”

  Sorrel nodded in understanding. They wanted her to be grateful. Raemah held her bowl out to be filled with gruel as she glanced up at the soldier from beneath her eyelashes. The soldier smiled and winked at her, giving her just a little extra. It made Sorrel uncomfortable to do such a thing, so of course he gave her less.

  Raemah led her around the building between two bushes and took a seat by the wall. Sorrel sat down next to her trying not to lean too hard against the hard stone wall. She brought the bowl to her lips and made herself take small sips, fearing that if she swallowed it down too fast she would just vomit it up. She needed to be strong.