by Jacinta Jade
Siray breathed out quietly in relief. So that’s what this was about, then.
‘They will also,’ Captain Raque continued, ‘form the initial unit in which you will train starting tomorrow morning.’
Siray watched from her position near the centre of the group as the captain’s eyes raked across the rows of captives.
‘You’ve already been warned about what will happen to you if you are caught attempting to escape,’ he continued, his eyes taking on a particular gleam, ‘and that anyone found Changing into an animal form here in the yard without an order to do so will be punished.’ The captain paused for emphasis. ‘What you haven’t been told is that if you are caught attempting to escape, the rest of your training unit will also be executed.’
Although no one had been moving, Siray could feel a heightened stillness in the group of Resistance captives. Knew that they were all now doing a mental inventory of just who had lined up before or after them in their row.
‘However,’ said Raque, more softly but no less clearly, ‘if any of you suspect that a fellow captive in your unit may be planning an escape, you can save your life and the lives of the rest of those in your unit by alerting one of the guards.’ He waved his hand at his soldiers, who stood alert both at positions within the yard and upon the heights of the stone walls, and tilted his head. ‘Be vigilant—there are no second chances.’
Siray saw the captain cast another sweeping glance across the captives before he moved back a step and pointed to the first row to Siray’s right.
‘Unit one!’
The captain moved down the rows, calling out numbers as he went. In the end, there were thirteen units of five members each, with the last one only containing three captives. After a quick calculation with her tired mind, Siray had to repeat the numbers to herself in her head a couple of times before it really sank in. Sixty-three captives.
Mother save us …
Of the one hundred or so captives that had started the arduous march to this city, wherever this city was, only about only two-thirds had actually made it.
***
In a daze, Siray only half listened as one of Captain Raque’s underlings informed them as to the procedure for the night and following day, but she refocused quickly when the row of Resistance captives to one side of her began moving away. She followed Genlie automatically as her row joined the line of captives being directed towards the low stone structure she had been scrutinising earlier.
By this time, the setting sun had disappeared completely behind the nearby palace, and purple and orange shadows were settling over the yard.
As the line of captives climbed the stairs at the end of the low structure in order to get to its first level, Siray saw one of the Faction soldiers gesture and gruffly direct Kovi to break away from the first five units and lead the file of captives up to the second level.
As Siray climbed the stairs behind Genlie, she heard a soldier say, ‘Unit six,’ and saw a black-clad arm with a gold ‘X’ emblem point Kovi through the first door on that floor.
Obediently following Genlie’s tall form into the dark space, Siray resisted the impulse to freeze at the door and scrutinise the room straightaway and instead urged her legs to keep moving, knowing Zale and Baindan were right behind her.
Once the five of them were inside, the soldier pushed at the door so it swung nearly closed, and then moved off, the line of captives following him. Zale was inspecting the door in a heartbeat, and Siray watched nervously as he pushed ever so slightly against it. The door was an old model, the type that swung outwards on a hinge rather than sliding shut. Now, it swung further open as Zale nudged it.
‘What are you doing?’ said Genlie quietly.
Siray was grateful that Genlie had asked, as, with her nerves in pieces, she didn’t think she would have been able to do so as calmly.
‘Just getting to know our new surrounds,’ Zale said, leaving the partially open door and turning his broad shoulders around to look at Genlie. ‘You never know when simple facts like this will be useful.’
Siray thought she knew what he was referring to. ‘You mean that the door has no locking mechanism?’
Zale nodded and strode away from the door towards the back of the room. ‘No mechanism that we can see.’
Siray nodded and, deciding that some other torture wasn’t about to spring itself upon them, finally let herself look around at their new accommodations. The space itself was bare, except for a small doorway at the back and a pile of old blankets heaped against one wall. But it was dry, it didn’t smell too bad, and it meant, above all, that they could sleep with some protection from the elements. And watchful eyes. For a whole night.
Although she felt better after having a handful of short sleeps throughout the day, the thought of a full night of rest was enough to make her long to lay down on one the old blankets, and she almost let out a whimper at the strength of the desire. To her, those blankets looked like luxury, their thin folds promising a deep sleep.
So, naturally, she hated them. Because the Faction had placed them there. Had made her feel this way. This … exhausted. And now her body was feeling grateful for the protective walls of this … cell. Grateful for blankets.
Yes—she hated them.
Two quick dull thumps echoed suddenly from the doorway, and Siray spun quickly, every instinct rising to assess the threat even as the room darkened noticeably. In the dimness she could see nothing different for a moment, but then she realised that the door was now firmly closed. She moved towards it at the same time as Baindan, but she got there first and tentatively rested her hand on the metal of the door.
Nothing happened.
She pushed at it. It didn’t move at all.
She guessed that the first thump had been the door automatically closing—and the second one had been the locking system activating.
As Baindan moved up closer to peer over her shoulder, she stepped away so he could do his own examination.
‘I guess this place isn’t as primitive as it looks,’ she said to him.
Having finished with his own assessment of the door, Baindan nodded. ‘Something to bear in mind, I think.’
With nothing else to gain by examining the door further, Siray moved away and turned her attention back to the blankets she had so desired earlier. And then fought the impulse to rip them out of Genlie’s hands, as she had picked them all up and was layering them over one section of the floor.
‘Shouldn’t we share those out?’
Zale’s tone clearly conveyed both curiosity over Genlie’s actions and possessiveness of the blankets.
Genlie shook her head. ‘There’s not enough for all of us, and they vary in quality.’
Siray watched as Genlie shook out the fourth and final blanket and laid it down on top of the others.
‘This way,’ she continued as she straightened up, ‘we can all benefit from the blankets, but we’ll also be warmer by sharing body heat.’
Siray knew Genlie was right. It was far cooler here at the Faction stronghold than it had been at the Gonron Facility. Although, Siray admitted to herself, the shift in seasons could also be the cause for the drop in temperature.
Back at the Gonron Facility, when she had last consulted the cycle calendar in the recreation room, there had only been a bit more than sixty days—about six turns—to go before the golden time would end and the second winter would hit Kaslon.
And during their trip through the underground caves to Gonron itself, Siray and the others had quickly learned to sleep in a huddle in order to avoid developing a chill from the cold underground air and rock.
Her mind seemed to twang as it automatically brought a relevant memory to bear.
The caverns. Sleeping in a depression in the ground. Waking to find Deson’s arm curled about her waist, warming her. The opening where the caves had given way to the start of the desert sands. Where Deson had told her how he felt.
That he wanted to be with her, always.
A tug on her hand.
‘Come lie down next to me, Siray.’
Focusing back on the present moment, Siray saw Genlie standing before her, her friend’s face and voice conveying compassion while her eyes darted with warning at Zale and Baindan, the message to the pair of males clear: Give her some space.
Grateful, Siray allowed Genlie to pull her over to a chosen spot on the blankets, but she turned her face away from the others, hoping that the males hadn’t seen her expression. She didn’t want to look weak, especially not when they all had to be stronger than ever.
Genlie settled down and patted a spot on the ripped blanket beside her.
Obligingly, Siray bent her knees and lowered her fatigued body to the ground. Although the ache in her muscles was familiar, the feeling of blankets—even blankets with holes that covered a hard stone floor—was strange and wonderful.
As she stretched out her tired body, the last thing Siray saw was the final rays of dim evening light seeping in through a small slit window near the corner of the room, the grey beams falling on even duller walls.
***
That night, Siray dreamt. Everything was dark as she closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, she found herself sitting on a grassy area that stretched as far as she could see.
To her left was a rippling surface, and as Siray looked at it, more details appeared. She recognised it. It was the Great Mountain Lake in Lalinta.
When she turned back to gaze again at the grassy area, she saw with a start that she was now part of a seated ring of smiling people. And directly across from her was Trelar, waving and smiling.
Siray waved and smiled back, immensely relieved for some reason to see her childhood friend. She tried to call out to Trelar but frowned when she found herself unable to make any sound.
Trelar didn’t seem to notice Siray’s efforts but just kept waving and smiling at her from across the circle.
Confused, Siray waved back again, but she also looked at the other faces seated around her. As she examined them more closely, she realised that she knew all of those arranged there.
It was her old cycle class, with even her former cycle guide—Firna—sitting a quarter of the way around the ring from Siray.
And they were all waving, smiling, and chatting to each other, although Siray couldn’t hear anything they said.
That was when a voice spoke to her from her right.
‘They don’t see what’s coming.’
Siray twisted. Deson sat next to her now, somehow having seamlessly integrated himself into the full circle. And although it surprised her clouded mind to see him there at first, when Siray tried to think about why, she couldn’t hold on to any thoughts.
But it felt right that he should be present in this place. Wherever it was.
She pondered Deson’s words briefly before peering around the ring of people again. ‘I can’t hear what they’re saying,’ she said to him.
Deson shook his head slowly, his words slow and considered. ‘You don’t need to. You just need to remember them.’
Siray looked at him, her brows knitted together. It seemed to take her longer to process things in this place, as if a fog were clouding her mind. ‘Remember them? But I haven’t forgotten them.’ She looked across the circle again at Trelar, who was still waving, and Siray happily waved back once more.
‘But you could. With what’s coming.’
Siray looked at Deson again, happy to see him, although some deeper part of herself felt conflicted. She knew it had been a while since she had seen Deson, and she knew he was important to her—could remember the intimate moment they had shared at the edge of the desert on their way to Gonron. But when she tried to remember when she had last seen him, her head began to pound. So she gave up trying, deciding to just enjoy his company, and asked, ‘What’s coming?’
Deson hadn’t actually looked at her yet, still gazing out at her friends animatedly, and silently, chatting with each other.
‘They don’t see it,’ he said again, not answering her question.
Siray frowned at Deson. Why couldn’t she remember anything more about him? She knew he had been at the Gonron Facility with her … She grew less happy about being seated in that circle and ignored the still-waving Trelar. ‘Deson, tell me,’ she urged, feeling that his answer was of the utmost importance. ‘What’s coming?’
‘Be aware, Siray. It will test you, hurt you, break you … but you can always come back.’
Siray’s frustration peaked, and she repeated her question loudly enough that she could hear it echo around that silent circle of waving people. ‘What is it, Deson? What’s coming for us?’
Deson finally looked at her, and when he did, cascading waves of inexplicable grief began to wash over Siray as she stared into those eyes.
‘The end,’ he said softly.
Although spoken quietly, those two words seemed to carry and echo for a long time, longer even than the question that had come before them.
Siray wanted to look away from those beautiful brown eyes, but they held her for another long moment.
‘Hide who you are,’ he whispered intently, ‘so that you can come back. They will need you to come back.’
When Deson looked away, Siray was finally able to blink and shift her gaze. But when she looked back again, Deson was gone, and a different type of sadness suffused Siray as she sat surrounded by waving and smiling friends, alone in her silence.
CHAPTER TWO
SIRAY WOKE UP suddenly from a deep sleep, panic rising as she took in the surrounding darkness. Briefly, her dream came back to her, the fogginess that had obstructed certain memories during the dream gone. But as even the memory of talking to Deson caused Siray pain, she blocked out the images and focused on her surroundings.
She couldn’t see much of anything in the dark, but she felt warm bodies to either side of her, her brief flare of panic beginning to subside as Siray took in the familiar scents and sounds of her sleeping friends. Yet as she lay there blinking up at the ceiling, Siray realised she had been woken by something. A noise, she thought. One of the curled shapes beside her moved.
‘What was that?’ Baindan’s voice, alert, sharp.
There was more shifting on Siray’s other side.
‘I heard a thump,’ came Genlie’s sleepy voice.
Siray heard the soft sounds of more bodies sitting up.
The events of the last few days have turned us all into light sleepers, Siray realised.
‘I think it was the door,’ came Zale’s deeper voice.
Siray heard quiet footsteps, then the slightest groan of the door swinging partway open. A dim silhouette against the greyness in the room confirmed her guess. It was morning, and the cell doors had been unlocked.
That was when the drumbeat started. Boom, boom, boom. The slow and steady beats pulsed through Siray, the deepness of the drum an ominous sound. She stood carefully, not wanting to tread on anyone with the light still so dim. ‘Guess our day of rest is over.’ She saw a vague form beside her stand.
‘We’ll need to watch everything carefully.’
Apparently, Baindan was already planning out his next move.
‘Count the guards you see, note their movements, note entrances and exits,’ he continued in a low voice. ‘Anything that might help us escape.’
Genlie’s quiet voice came from somewhere behind them. ‘But if we’re caught trying to escape … ’
‘We won’t get caught,’ Baindan said firmly. ‘It’s either possible, or it isn’t. And if it’s too risky, then we won’t try it. But we need to know if it is possible first.’
A commanding shout from outside halted any further discussion.
‘Outside now! Line up in your units!’
‘That’s our cue,’ Zale said quietly from by the door.
Siray watched his dark shape push the door further open and hold it there for the rest of them
as they all rapidly filed out of the cell. They joined the rest of the captives making their way down to the yard, some of them moving faster than others.
Once they were all at ground level, Baindan led them quickly over to join the rows of captives forming up in order of unit, where they found themselves once again lined up next to Wexner, Loce, Tamot, Kinna, and another captive Siray didn’t know.
They all faced forwards, silent, waiting. They didn’t have to wait long.
‘Unit three! Where is your fifth member?’
A moment of silence. Then a high-pitched, stammering answer.
‘She … she wouldn’t come out.’
A silent, barely noticeable collective intake of breath from all the captives.
‘What?’ The guard’s voice was quiet, but the stillness across the group meant that the dangerously questioning tone was clearly heard by all.
Siray kept her eyes straight ahead.
‘The fifth … member of our unit,’ the female trainee began again, with a swallow, ‘refused to line up.’
‘Oh! Well, then. Can’t have that, now,’ came the drawn-out and overly sympathetic response from the guard. ‘Let’s see if there is some way we can accommodate your friend.’
His jocular tone didn’t fool Siray in the slightest, and the tension amongst the anxiously waiting captives grew thicker as the guard spun around and nodded to someone else off to the side. Then he paced out a couple of steps until he was standing such that his gaze could easily sweep across the rows.
‘If you disobey a direct order, there is no second chance. Punishment will be swift.’
As he spoke, a female scream came from somewhere behind and above Siray. She stiffened, bracing her feet and tightening her hands into fists so she wouldn’t turn.
In front of her, she could see Genlie’s fists also squeezed tightly together, and knew that her tall friend was also fighting the same impulse to react.
More screaming and crying from the rebellious female captive wore on Siray’s nerves as the female was dragged closer.
‘The strong obey, and the strong survive,’ intoned the head guard as he watched them all.