Her imagination did the rest. She knew what she would see, what the strange noise was. Ellinca turned her head and looked, taking a few minutes to accustom herself to the sight before rising and going over to stand a few yards from Dost. It took much of her courage. She liked little animals, but this...
Chapter 27
The Jigsaw Man
“Not good, hey?”
“No. So this is why no guards.” Thollemew Smythe must have known of Dost’s mutilation when he arrived in Carstelan. Yet he had said nothing. What a scum-sucking coward that man was. “Has your father been to see you...like this?”
“No. I’ve had no...visitors.” Sarcasm and dull self-loathing rolled into one word. “And perhaps now you will leave me? Now you see I can’t be healed. Leave me in peace.”
He was lying.
They had fastened him down on his back with immense chains that wrapped round his legs and body then wove from column to column. His arms they had also chained to columns. They were separate from his body – she could see the stumps just below his shoulders where they had been cut – strands of wet flesh and threads of cloth intermingled where the sleeves of his shirt were also cut. The sound was made by the arms writhing. The fingers constantly scratched and pulled at the stone floor like little legs made from human flesh joined into spiders – and going nowhere. She had a sudden picture of them on one of those wheels they gave mice.
“How long have they been doing that?” She licked her lips.
“Forever. Forever.” His eyes were shut. “Leave me. Please.”
“That your father could condemn you to this... Are you in pain?”
He opened his eyes. They were as blue as an angel’s should be. “Pain? But I’m not human anymore. Besides, I understand his decision. Perhaps I even applaud it.”
He had given up, that was clear. Who wouldn’t when faced with their father’s indifference to this?
“And Dayna?” She dreaded his answer. “You said she was there, do you know if she’s been hurt...or worse? I know you must hate her, but I owe her. She was kind to me.”
“My father doesn’t allow torture unnecessarily.”
“Ha!”
“She’s alive, but whether she was hurt when captured, I can’t say. Ellinca, I don’t hate her. I understand. I forgave her, just as I did my father. If you can understand what people do, it is easy to forgive.”
“It is?” To her this was, in its way, the most alien thing about Dost. No one could or should, forgive what had been done to him.
“I doubt she has been tortured – there would be no gain, no reason for it.
Then why do this to you? Just to keep you from escaping? She knelt there beside him and came to the realization that she was no longer utterly repelled by his appearance – this was Dost, or at least how he was at present. If anything repelled her it was how he had been treated. For a stranger such as herself to feel revulsion at his undead body was understandable, but for his father, especially since he knew how Dost became a bludvoik – incomprehensible.
Ellinca glanced sideways at the arms. “They’re you still, aren’t they? Like – they won’t go off and strangle people or anything?”
“How should I know? No. Joking. They are, somehow, still part of me. Just want to come back to papa I guess. Here, boys! Come to dada!”
“Oh, stop it! Drivel! So if I let them go?”
“Why would you do that? How would you – ”
“To help you, of course! Now shut up, be quiet, and let me think.”
The chains on the wrists of his severed arms and on his ankles were finished in manacles that had been riveted closed. She had a theory on how to do this, but would it work? Slowly she unwrapped Mogg from about her neck, stepped over to the nearest limb and, careful not to touch it with her own flesh, draped Mogg across the manacle. She sat back. Nothing seemed to be happening. She rubbed her forehead.
“What are you – Sorry, Ellinca, but jewelry and furry wristbands just don’t do it for me, not now anyway.”
“Shut up!”
“Perhaps...gold,” she muttered. “That would do it, maybe.” But where could she get some? The coins were in her pack. She put a hand to her waist, to the black satin bag that had held the pieces from her mother’s perfume bottle. Painstakingly she untied it. She softly kissed the bag, saying a quick prayer to Esse, the Protector of Souls, before drawing out the golden chain.
Then, businesslike, she snapped off a section of it with her teeth and tucked it between the manacle and the skin of the writhing arm.
“Come on. Come on!” Minutes crawled past. When she peeled Mogg away half of the manacle fell away as well. “Good!” The arm began crawling toward Dost.
She grimaced then hurried to the other arm and repeated the procedure.
This time Mogg left of his own accord, stretching and waddling over to Gangar on his six legs like an over-fed cat. In the hope that he would eventually grow hungry enough to return, she placed some gold chain under each of the manacles on Dost’s ankles.
Gingerly she picked up the second arm. It was surprisingly heavy and, for a moment, she was overwhelmed by the feeling that she held something weightier than mere flesh, as if death itself weighed on her hands. She shivered. This was only an arm. It writhed and she hurriedly put down the arm then watched as it migrated across the floor and nestled into the stump.
“Right.” She swallowed bile. This was fascinating but grotesque. The arms had fitted neatly into place. The swords must have been sharp – there was almost a straight line to the cuts, no flesh missing, as if someone had held his arms out while they cut and he had stood very still. Startled by the thought, she looked at Dost. As if he had not moved at all.
She knelt beside him.
“Why do this, Ellinca? Why? What are you hoping to prove?”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I saw how you would bind any wounds or tie loose bits of flesh back in place after injuries. And the next day there would be nothing, no cuts, nothing. You heal miraculously, provided things don’t go missing.” She poked him in the chest. “Being a bludvoik has its advantages.”
“Does it? A pity the disadvantages far outweigh them. Don’t bother. I just want to lie here, in peace. I’m not some doll that you can glue together.”
His eyes spoke of anything but peace.
“Do you think you’re the only one in the world to have a disagreeable father?”
“Disagreeable! Disagreeable?” He sputtered, glaring at her.
She bowed her head, placed her hands together as if in prayer and rested the fingertips near her mouth. “Look, he doesn’t see you as a real person anymore. He sees a bludvoik, nothing more.”
“Liar. He knows I am still me.”
“Gods! Okay, I’m wrong. What do I know? Maybe your father is an unfeeling bastard! But other people do care about you. Get over it. You’re getting better or else!”
Fuming, she lashed the arms to his body with torn strips of cloth and weighed them down with chain to keep them from moving. “Be still!” Then she added in a softer voice, “Some people care for you.”
There was a startled speculative look in his eyes as she backed away. As if she’d done something unexpected.
He’d had her pegged as a fence-sitter, a do-nothing fence-sitter. Well now he could just change that opinion. It made her feel absurdly pleased.
Ellinca slowly crumpled to the floor in a corner of the room, feeling like her mind and muscles had all turned to mush. She had seen so many things on the way here, to this place in time, things she’d like to forget. Closing her eyes, Ellinca wondered at the depths of cruelty the human race would descend to.
“Now we wait,” she mumbled.
Some time later she heard words whispered to the silent room. “Do you, Ellinca?”
Do I what? Do I wait? No, that wasn’t it. She was too deep into an exhausted sleep to figure out the meaning and did not answer.
Chapter 28
The Jung Qua
Despite all her assertions that he would heal, black doubts circled constantly in her mind. What if such an injury was too great even for bludvoik flesh? She caught her lip in her teeth.
When she squatted beside him and looked down she could see the flesh had merged, if messily, with great wads and pits of scarring, like two masses of clay jammed together. The color was odd. The patchy blue-green and mauve would spell putrefaction in another person.
His lids cracked open. “Afternoon.”
“Is it? Can you tell the time?”
“’Tis perhaps a modicum more than an hour until dusk. Take off the chains, all of them.”
“Uh.” Ellinca cocked an eyebrow. A modicum? “All right.” Where the chains had pressed on his arms the flesh was squashed down but it recovered quickly, like rising dough. So little time to dusk. She needed Mogg to remove the remaining chains around his body. She’d slept far too long. Her heart dropped as she searched the dark corners of the room. Mogg and Gangar had gone. Where?
“Something wrong?”
“What? Um. Wriggle your fingers.”
Nothing happened. He lifted his head, looking about. “Can’t. Not yet, but they feel sort-of-good. Your pet has gone, hasn’t he? And Gangar.”
She sighed. “Yes, and I need to find Dayna. We must release her before your father has her killed. And you can’t move.” It was impossible not to let despair seep into her words. Even the rhythmic movement of the arms was no longer occurring. People had nerves, why not bludvoiks? The arms had been severed. Perhaps the nerves couldn’t regrow?
He wasn’t healing. All the problems surfaced, piling up in her mind. Why would he want Dayna freed when she had been helping Krueger? Where would they go afterward? There was an army out there – one from both sides. Ellinca covered her face with her hands. The difficulties seemed monstrous.
“Don’t fail me now, Ellinca. Things are looking up. Besides, I’ll come with you. You know you won’t find her without me. This whole underground area is labyrinthine. A maze of passages. Made that way to deter thieves.”
Things were looking up? She stared at the wreck of his body. He must have stolen a new wardrobe since she’d seen him in Carstelan – brown canvas pants, a broad beaded leather belt and a double-breasted sea-green shirt, high-collared and with enough stab holes in it to qualify it as a sieve.
She smiled crookedly at him, sniffing a few times. “Think I’m getting a cold. Are there traps? Sliding walls? Spiky floors?”
He chuckled moistly and for once that sound didn’t bother her.
“No. Just confusing. You’d need a map to find your way. Now – just let me get loose. Your pet chewed...sucked, whatever, through the feet shackles...”
“Did he? Oh. He has!”
“So, I just have to do...this.” He wriggled in a way that no human could ever possibly move their joints or backbone, and slowly writhed out from under the coiled mass of chains. When he stood, he swayed, his arms dangling lifelessly at his sides.
“I should do this by myself,” he said. “There will be fighting. You’ll be safer if you stay here. If my father promised it, you will be released today.”
“Really? You’re sure? No. No. Don’t do this to me, Dost.” She firmed her voice, angry that she’d almost caved in. “I’m getting you and Dayna out of here. I decided that, and I’m doing it.”
“Ellinca, I’m not going. I’m not leaving the palace. I’ll help you get Dayna out. But...my father won’t be leaving. I know him, and that rabble that’s coming here – they’ll make him more determined to stay if anything. That means Sasskia won’t be going. Those people will have their blood up. They’ll swarm through this place like a pack of wolves. I’m staying. Someone has to be there for her.”
Ellinca shook her head, trying to dismiss the stomach-turning pictures his words evoked. She’d finally gotten up the courage to risk everything to help him and he was going to lie down and let himself be torn to pieces. Again. Such devotion. She dug fingernails into her palms.
How much he must love her. Love, what a strange thing it was, and the funny thing was, despite what had happened, she still wished she could do something to help Sasskia. There was a sad ache at the back of her head that wouldn’t go away, though perhaps that was the ghosts, for even when she couldn’t see them she could feel them. This whole place pressed in on her.
“I guess I understand. I wish I could...” And she nearly said heal you, but of course the truth was that she could, possibly, heal Sasskia, and if she was healed then Dost would likely escape with her. There it was again. If she was willing to throw her own life away...she could help them.
It made her feet root to the floor. How could she move? For once she did, the moment was gone. She didn’t want to go either way – to decide on death for them, or for herself. Ellinca appreciated now how much more his life was worth than her own. If she’d been alone she would have collapsed to her knees and prayed to Esse for guidance. If ever a lost soul needed help it was now.
“Ellinca.” Dost paused, and there was something of regret in his voice when he spoke again. “Don’t take this as your burden. Please. I can see what you’re thinking. This is not suicide. Not for me. I have no life ahead of me. Nothing at all. I am a pile of dead flesh. It matters not that I can still walk. Convincing my father to stop the war? A useless, impossible idea, even if I he would listen to me. At least this way I can be at peace.”
She nodded slowly, like some sort of doll from the markets, not sure if speaking was a smart idea right then, but she gathered her courage, clearing her throat first. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind. Anyway, I’m coming. You need my help. Look at you. You’re a mess. I’m coming.”
He huffed. “A mess? Very well. Thank you. Elinca, if you make it out of here, get down to the port. A ship called the Veelus docks there regularly. Tell the captain I sent you. He can take you somewhere away from here – where you won’t be an outcast. He’s not fussy and will even take that six-legged cat of yours.”
“Sure. If I make it.”
By allowing her to climb on his shoulders, Dost could lift her high enough to reach the light. She unhooked it from the ceiling so they could take it with them. The steel door to the room hung half open, the lock a melted hole. Outside, the corridor was deserted, stretching off to the left and right. Ellinca had no notion as to which way the guards had brought her.
“Do you have a plan?” he asked.
“Not yet, if you could tell me...”
“Well, I do.” He set off and she ran to catch up, the light she carried cast swinging circles of light about them. “There are four ramps leading down here. Dayna is somewhere near the eastern one. I can move my left fingers, by the way.”
“You can?” Ellinca remembered. He could smell people.
“Some. There is another woman, another Grakk prisoner, perhaps. Maybe the auratrist you spoke of. She’s closer, on the way to Dayna. We’ll go there, then go on to Dayna, and then up the eastern ramp into the palace. Is that okay?”
“Yes.” A thought congealed in her mind. “You know, you killed Krueger. Dayna may want revenge. She may even still want to kill your father.”
He shook his head. His feet slowed. Some of the weight on her soul lifted when she saw him curl up his right arm and wriggle the fingers. Yes! Nerves were tiny compared to the rest of his arm and here was a sign that they were healing fast.
“What she wants... I don’t know. Revenge? Perhaps. She’d have to stand in line to get at my father.”
“You know, I figured out why they put me in with you. He thought you would try to convince me to heal Sasskia. He knows how much you love her. And he knows you wouldn’t even consider get
ting me to heal you instead. He just didn’t know you well enough.”
He studied her. “No. Some cannot see what’s before their eyes.”
The corridors down here were truly as convoluted as spaghetti. Ellinca was thoroughly lost by the time he whispered to her to leave the light on the floor.
“The auratrist is ahead. Two, three guards nearby. Not Immolators, they smell... different. I’ll deal with them more efficiently if you stay back.”
“Wait.” She took one of his hands in her own.
“Can you close your fingers?”
“Yes.” His grip was very strong and she could tell there was more in reserve.
“Right.” She cupped her other hand over the top. “Be careful.”
Ellinca waited nervously while he crept away, around the corner. There was a chorus of shouts, a few metallic clangs and some thuds before all went quiet. The moment stretched. She placed a hand on her heart, as if that would calm it then slowly moved forward to peer ’round the corner. Two Imperial Guards lay on the floor, unconscious.
“You know they’ll have concussions from that.”
“I didn’t injure them any more than necessary!” Dost pulled at a door handle, thumping at the steel door. It dented but didn’t budge. “Curse it!”
“Locked?”
“Course it is! Something’s wrong! The woman in there – I think she’s dying.”
“Dying? How do you... Oh.” Death had a smell?
He sank onto one knee beside a guard. “Look. This one rouses already.” Swiftly he gagged and tied him with belt and cloth before going through the man’s belt bags and pockets. “Look for a key!”
She ran to the other guard to search him.
This stupid guard hoarded everything he came across – coins, buttons, handkerchiefs, sticky lollies and a tiny framed lithograph of a child. She blinked, wondering at his past, pausing with a hand on his neck.
In a flash she saw in her mind a miniscule blood vessel inside his head leaking blood bit by bit out into his brain. Given time it would kill him. Time. So little of it... Ellinca shut her eyes, reached, and pinched it off. The bleeding stopped. She blinked again. What had she done? Panicking a little she surveyed her arms. Nothing. Nothing was different at all, anywhere on her body. She had used power. Why hadn’t she altered, aged? A revelation hovered at the edge of her consciousness. There was a clue here, somehow.
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