by Ben Hale
Siarra’s mind flashed to Jack, no doubt imprisoned in the same keep she was in. “No one important,” she said, not liking the trace of revenge she’d seen flit through his look.
After a moment where their eyes locked, he looked away and rose to his feet. “My master’s war will soon be over. I must prepare for your friends.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
He swiveled and looked at her. “Several months. It is only three days journey to him through the tunnels, but it is still taxing.” He paused, and added, “I have considered your request, and I will grant you one day. If you do not give me your power by then . . .”
Siarra must have looked more relieved than she meant to, because he chuckled once more. The sinister sound echoed around the small chamber as he said, “And don’t think they can escape. I am quite good at seeing metal, and I took every piece off them. One in particular had several sets of lockpicks.”
She couldn’t contain the horror that seeped into her expression. Jack . . .
“Enjoy your stay,” he chuckled again as he turned to exit the room. “Short as it may be.”
Siarra, alone and bereft of her power, fought back the despair that threatened to engulf her. Despite her efforts, several tears darkened the dust below her bowed head.
Chapter 9: Imprisoned
Taryn jerked awake, nearly backhanding Liri as he lurched to his knees.
“Watch it!” she said, ducking to avoid his swinging arms.
“Sorry,” he mumbled, stabilizing himself into a sitting position. Groaning as pain washed over him, he closed his eyes to keep from blacking out. “I thought we were done for. What happened?”
Liri shifted to sit next to him. “I am not sure. I awoke a few minutes ago and have been trying to wake the two of you.”
“The two of us?” he asked, gingerly opening his eyes.
He caught sight of the still form of Jack nearby at the same time she said the thief’s name.
“Oh,” he said. “What about the others? Siarra? Mae? Trin? Kell?”
As he said each name she gave a tight shake of her head, her eyebrows knitting together until she said, “I don’t know.”
His sharp intake of breath must have given his emotions away, because he felt Liri’s hand find his.
“I’m sure they are all right," she said. "If we are alive, they probably are too, right?”
Although it sounded like she was trying to convince herself, he latched onto the glimmer of hope. “So where are we?”
“See for yourself,” she said, her tone rueful.
Blinking away the last of the odd headache, he took a look around. Three square stone walls greeted his view, and when he swiveled his head to look behind, he saw thick iron bars forming the last side. The remains of a wooden cot lay in one corner, looking beyond unsanitary. On the outside of the bars, a single red flameless torch cast a dim glow on the empty corridor.
“Welcome to our prison,” Liri said with a wry smile.
On reflex, he reached back for his father's sword, but encountered empty air where the hilt should have been.
“All of it is gone,” Liri said with a sigh, leaning back against the stone wall. “They took all our weapons, even Jack’s lockpick set.”
Taryn swallowed against the surge of panic, not so much in their predicament as the loss of his parent's weapons. The weapons had been with him for his entire life, and always close at hand. Without them, he felt stripped and alone.
“I think they are enchanted, but do you think you could bend the bars?” Liri asked, tilting her head towards the doorway.
He shrugged and rose to his feet, pulling her up next to him. “It’s worth a try.”
Striding to the iron bars, he wrapped his fingers around two of them and began to apply pressure. Gradually he increased the force until he was pulling with all his might—but the metal did not give. Frowning, he moved to the side of the room and braced his back against the wall. Placing both hands against a single bar, he again built up the pressure until beads of sweat dotted his forehead.
Liri released a deep sigh and said, “I believe nothing short of the key will open it."
Unwilling to give up on escape so easily, Taryn turned to the walls, but after several attempts to find an egress proved fruitless, he sat next to Liri with a grunt. “It seems we are stuck, doesn’t it.”
She shrugged and nudged him with an encouraging smile. “Perhaps, but we are still alive. If anyone comes to let us out, they will have a real fight on their hands.”
He grinned and put his arm around her. “You always know how to cheer me up, you know that?”
She snuggled into his arm, and after a moment murmured, “I wonder how long we were asleep?”
He started to shake his head, but an idea flashed across his mind and he lifted his left arm to his eyes. Peering at a dark line of crusted blood he exclaimed, “No more than a day. In the tunnels, one of them got close enough to scratch me.” He showed her his forearm and said. “It hasn’t even begun to heal yet, but the blood has dried.”
“Good,” she said, blowing out her breath. “I was worried that it had been a few days . . . and we were too late.” Her deep blue eyes found his and the relief was palpable.
Taryn smiled at her, reaching out to wipe some of the dirt from her cheek where she’d been laying on the floor. Then he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Just as the first time he’d kissed her, a blast of heat flooded through him, taking his breath away and making him dizzy.
When they parted, he smiled, both from the kiss and to comfort her. “It’s not too late, Liri. We still have at least four days.”
For a moment the two of them leaned against each other, taking solace in the feeling of hope. But it didn’t take long for it to fade, replaced by the view of a dark stone wall.
“Would you have noticed me if this war wasn’t going on?” Liri asked, catching him by surprise.
“What do you mean?” Taryn asked, turning to look at her.
Her expression shifted into exasperation. “Taryn Elseerian, do you have any idea how long I have favored you?”
He shook his head in chagrin.
She chuckled at his expression and looked away, her eyes seeing past the walls. “The first time I knew I cared about you was when we were training with the longbow together. Every day we would meet and practice, and every morning you would get there early to set up my targets for me.” Her eyes found his. “Do you remember that?”
His brow wrinkled in confusion. “Of course, but I set up everyone’s targets, not just yours. Murai taught me to be considerate of others. Why would that make such a difference?”
She laughed and the expression of mirth shook her thin frame, yet carried a softness to it that made her appear vulnerable.
“Did you know that all masters teach their students to be considerate of others?” Her gaze pierced his, but he shook his head, still confused. “It's part of the standard training, but so few of the students were genuinely thoughtful of those around them.”
“What about Firel?” Taryn asked. “Mae once told me he cared for you, and he did try to serve you, didn’t he? He was always jumping to retrieve your arrows and inviting you to share a mug with him and his friends.”
She chuckled and tilted her head at him, raising one eyebrow. “Do I like to have others retrieve my arrows?”
After a moment’s thought, he realized the answer. “No. You like to get them yourself, so you can check them for damage.”
She smiled in satisfaction and asked, “Do I like to drink ale?”
Again he answered from experience, “No, you don’t like the after effects.”
She laughed. “Firel was a fool, Taryn. He was attracted to me, but never took the time to get to know me. You took the time to ask if I would like you to place my targets. When I said yes, you did it every day, without complaint—and without ulterior motive.”
Taryn was still confused, but he hated to admit it.
“But I asked everyone—.”
She placed a finger on his lips, grinning. “Can we both agree that you are absolutely horrible at seeing certain things, like what a person does when they favor someone else?"
He allowed a small smile and nodded, so she added, “Good, and can we agree that I am, shall we say, fairly adept, at seeing when people care for someone?”
His grin widened, and he nodded again, deciding then and there that he shouldn't question her when it came to the emotions of others. Taking her hand in his, he intertwined their fingers. “Now that I know when you first favored me, would you like to know when I first felt something for you?”
Her eyes sparkled, giving him all the answer he needed.
Sighing, he looked at the ceiling before answering. “Do you remember the games two years before my Acabi?”
She nodded, so he continued, “It was the first time I had seen you in a while, and it was one of the years you had made it to the final round. Do you remember what happened?”
“I remember doing well, but I got hung up on one of the events.” She paused to think. “I think it was fishing. I just couldn’t get the blasted thing to hook . . .” Her eyes lit up with understanding and she smiled. “I had forgotten about that.”
He grinned, wanting to finish. “That was the year they added a surprise attack for everyone. One of the masters tried to surprise me at the river, and after I disarmed him, I came back to find a fish somehow hooked on my line.” He looked at her shrewdly. “You wouldn’t know how it got there, would you? You were, after all, just upriver when I was attacked. Did you see anything . . . suspicious?”
Her expression held only innocence as she said, “I don’t know what you are talking about Taryn.”
He laughed again and hugged her. “That was the farthest I ever made it in the games,” he said into her ear.
“You lovebirds got any water?” a voice said from the other side of their cell, causing them both to turn and see Jack sitting up, massaging his head.
“Jack!” they exclaimed in unison, moving to his side.
He winced and waved them to silence. “How long have we been out?”
“We think about twenty-four hours, but we don’t really know,” Liri said.
Jack nodded, blearily opening his eyes again. “By Skorn that sleeping spell stings!”
Taryn smiled sympathetically. “It doesn’t last long.”
“I know,” Jack said. “It’s not the first time it has been used on me.”
Taryn snorted, wondering again how many tales the thief could tell. “We already checked the room for escape. We believe the bars are magically enforced. Any ideas?”
Jack shrugged, blinking away the last of his headache and getting to his feet. “Pick the lock of course.”
Liri shook her head at him. “They took your lock picks, Jack.”
His eyes widened in a manner that made her flush. “My lady, you searched me while I was out?” Chuckling at her response, he dug into his tunic searching first one pocket, and then another before he grunted in irritation.
“Blast it, they did take ̓em,” Jack said.
“So what are we going to do?” Taryn asked.
“They took my metal picks, but not my wooden ones,” Jack said with a sly grin, withdrawing a small, flat leather pouch from a secret pocket.
“Wooden?” Liri asked before Taryn could.
Jack moved towards the door and reached through the bars, slipping something into the lock. “Metal mages always find the normal picks, but never the wooden ones. I had ̓em especially made for just such an occasion.”
The door emitted an audible ‘click’ and swung open, causing him to sniff. “Such a poor design too,” Jack said, glancing back. “Shall we find the others?”
Noticing their astonished expressions, he blew out his breath. “Honestly. It’s like you don’t even know me.”
After releasing Trin, Mae, and Kell from a cell down the corridor, Taryn led them through the twisting corridors of a dungeon and up into what he guessed was the second level of the keep. A glint of steel caught his eye, and he paused to look into an ancient armory. Joy warmed his body as he saw a pile of weapons had been dumped onto the floor. Among them he saw two long-bladed katsanas, as well as several throwing knives.
“Hello, beautiful,” Jack crowed, darting past him toward the horde.
Retrieving his parents’ swords, Taryn checked them for any damage before sliding them into the sheaths on his back. The ‘thunk’ of the hilts reaching the scabbards sent a comforting tingle down his spine. Turning to search for the throwing knives his uncle had given him, he almost burst out laughing as he saw Trin kissing his longsword.
“What?” Trin asked, when he caught his look. “Haven’t you ever seen a grown man kiss his sword before?”
Taryn shook his head, suppressing his mirth lest the sound echo and betray their presence. Stooping, he grabbed two of the knives and slid them into the belt at his waist. Smiling at the sight of Liri caressing her wind bow, he spotted the other three knives and reached for them. One by one sliding them home, he turned to see Kell kneeling and bowing his head against the hilt of his enormous blade. Then the son of King Tryton rose to his full stature, towering over Taryn and sliding the five foot sword onto his back.
“I am ready for battle,” Kell said, his dark eyes sparking.
“Me too.”
“As am I.”
“I’ve got everything.”
“I even have my lock picks,” Jack said, smiling as several bags disappeared into hidden folds of the man’s cloak.
Taryn found himself grinning, despite their situation, and bent to pick up the last remaining weapon on the ground, Siarra’s katsana. “Let’s find my sister and get out of here,” he said, his voice full of determination.
Armed and ready for battle, they stepped back into the hallway and continued their search. With all six of them tuned to the slightest hint of detection, they crept through dark hallways in search of Siarra, and a way out. Ducking into a room strewn with broken furniture, Taryn slipped to the window and peered out into the cavern.
Scanning the shadowed cavern, he tried to find anything that would give him some bearings—
—he yanked his head back from the opening before he’d fully registered the massive form, feeling his heart pounding so hard it threatened to burst from his chest.
“What is it?” Liri asked, drifting towards him while others slipped into the room behind her.
“See for yourself,” Taryn said, his voice tight.
She eased her eyes over the sill and peered into the gloom, but it was obvious when she saw it.
“Skorn's blade,” she cursed under her breath, ducking back. “That is one big dragon!”
Taryn nodded, impulsively rising to get another peek at it. The dark dragon lay stretched out on one of the bridges that lead to the subterranean castle. Its huge horned head rested on its forelimbs, while the ebony wings lay folded back onto its flanks. A long, spiked tail hung into the abyss, swinging slightly. Like a giant predator crouching on a branch, it lay perched, ready for the hunt.
Glancing around the beast, Taryn managed a good look at the cavern. Satisfied, he knelt next to Liri. “I believe it’s sleeping, or at least resting, but there is a problem.” Liri raised an eyebrow so he continued. “If you remember, there are only two arches that lead to this structure, and that thing”—he jerked a thumb in the direction of the window—"is laying on one of them.”
Trin, who had drifted close enough to glance out the window, scowled. “Let me guess. He’s on the one we need to use.”
Taryn nodded, grimacing. “Do you see the pieces of the railing? The bridge we took to get here didn’t have any. That means we will have to backtrack to get out of here.”
Mae was already shaking her head. “We can’t go back. Those fiends, wherever they came from, had that trap ready. They will just funnel us back in this direction.”
“I think she’s righ
t,” Jack said, jerking his head towards Mae. “I would also put odds that this side doesn’t have any fiends at all.” He gestured towards the dragon. “Why would you need ̓em?”
“So we slay the dragon?” Kell asked, a trace of eagerness seeping into the rock troll’s voice.
Feeling all the eyes turn towards him, Taryn felt a flash of unease at the prospect. Shrugging, he said. “By its size, it is quite old. But if we take it on, it will be a miracle for any of us to survive.”
“So let’s distract it,” Liri said, pulling her bow from her back. “If we can get it away from the bridge, maybe we can get across. Once we are in the tunnels . . .”
Trin grinned. “If you and Taryn can use some arrows to draw it from the bridge, we might have a shot.”
“There are some things you should know about dragons,” Kell cut in, “just in case.” Once he had everyone’s attention, he rumbled. “Our people have fought more than a few of the beasts, and even hunted them at one time. It is still considered the ultimate honor to mark one’s face with the dragons’ brand.” He slid a large finger down his cheek in emphasis.
Taryn’s gaze slid to the other tattoos that spiked and curved on the rock trolls torso, arms and face. Young as Kell was, he still boasted many victories on his body. Despite the ink, Taryn wondered if the son of King Tryton had ever faced a dragon.
Kell finished tracing a dragon’s shape in the dust at their feet and pointed at a place behind the forearm, “There is only one spot that we know of to slay a dragon. It is difficult to reach, and will require a powerful blow from an enchanted weapon to break through its armor.” His voice rumbled to a stop. After a pause he nodded towards Liri. “I know Kythira gave you that wind bow, and with it, you can make long range shots, but your arrows will not be strong enough. As far as I know, only Taryn and I carry weapons capable of piercing its hide.”
“Are you sure yours can do it?” Jack snorted, his expression dubious.