Bright Obscurity

by Ruby Brown

  Trixie paid little attention to what was around them, clearly intent on getting what they needed and then leaving as fast as possible. She led Mal to one of the smaller stalls in the corner of the square, which was being looked after by a tall, skinny boy dressed in a faded My Chemical Romance t-shirt. His greasy black hair brushed his hips as he tapped his dark-blue painted nails on the counter impatiently. Behind him were all the potions you could ever imagine, all of them contained in sparkling crystal bottles. Some of them were glass vials no larger than the nail on Mal’s little finger that were filled with a dark, sludgy liquid. Others were huge glass boxes that were seemingly empty, but if you looked for long enough you’d see a flash of vibrant colour that disappeared so quickly you were sure you’d imagined it.

  “This is Colin,” Trixie explained when they arrived at the stall. “He’s one of the few legitimate people here, but he doesn’t get many customers because his products are ridiculously expensive.” She sent a pointed glance Colin’s way, and he grinned but didn’t say anything.

  Trixie sighed and started explaining to Colin what they needed while Mal looked around her in wonder. She felt like a little kid again, viewing the world with nothing but curiosity and light. Suddenly, she became aware of a dark shadows slinking through the crowd like a cobra ready to strike. She tried to focus on it, but it was moving too fast, ducking and weaving through the crowd. Suddenly, Mal became aware that it was heading straight for her and Trixie. She felt her stomach twist as she reached for Trixie’s arm, but before she could say anything a strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her backwards into the crowd. Mal tried to scream, but a hand clamped a rag over her mouth that was soaked in a sweet-smelling liquid that instantly made Mal drowsy. The panic took hold of as she lost sight of Trixie in the crowd and she twisted and turned, trying desperately to escape.

  She was swiftly dragged into an alleyway, where she finally succeeded in breaking free of her captor’s grip. She staggered for a few moments. The chloroform she’d been inhaling had clouded her senses. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to clear it, and just in time she caught sight of someone hurtling towards her with the speed and intensity of a shooting star. Mal flung a bolt of Akraansir magic at it, and it fell to the ground with a scream as the magic skimmed it’s arm and then hit the wall across from Mal, making the bricks crack and crumble. Mal’s vision had now cleared up enough to see that the ‘it’ was actually a ‘she’, dressed in tight black jeans, knee-high brown boots and a navy blue t-shirt. She had a long curly brown hair, and her blue eyes were full of hatred as she glared at Mal from the floor. One hand was clutching the arm Mal’s magic had hit as she struggled to contain her screams of pain. With a start, Mal realised that she had the same symbol on her hand as the man who had attacked her in the hospital wing did.

  The curiosity that this revelation carried was enough to keep Mal standing there for a second more instead of bolting back to Trixie like she should have, and a second was all this girl needed. Cat-like, she pounced on Mal and seized a handful of her hair, slamming her up against the wall in the alleyway and knocking all the breath from Mal’s lungs. As she struggled to get it back, the girl’s lips curled in a cruel mockery of a smile and she started to slam Mal’s head against the wall. Fireworks exploded behind Mal’s eyes as the pain bounced around her skull and then formed itself in the sound of a scream that tore from her throat. She could feel her blood trickling down the back of her neck, but that was the last thig she remembered before she lost consciousness and slid to the floor. The girl hoisted Mal’s limp body onto her shoulder, showing a surprising amount of strength and grace, and started running down the alleyway at a superhuman speed, her boots clicking on the cobblestones as she vanished into the night like a ghost.

  Chapter 20

  When Mal woke, she found herself lying on a surgical steel table with thick leather straps wrapping around her wrists and ankles, leaving her bound to the table. The cold metal nipped at her skin through her thin t-shirt. Mal looked around and realised she was in a jail cell. The table was right up the back of the room, pressed against the grainy grey wall. Dim fluorescent lights were attached to the ceiling, bathing the grimy room in a weak glow. Through the metal bars of her cell Mal could see a set of stairs going upwards.

  The room was empty except for Mal’s table and Allie’s cloak lying on the floor. Even from here Mal could see that it was dirty, stained and ripped. “Allie’s gonna be pissed...” Mal muttered to herself, taking in the destroyed garment.

  The hair at the back of her head was matted with blood from the wound her attacker had left when she had slammed her head into the brick wall, but other than that Mal didn’t think she was too badly hurt. She started trying to strain against her bonds in the hope of breaking them, but the leather was too strong. Mal could feel herself starting to panic.

  She let herself flop back on the table and took a few deep breaths to try and steady herself. Once she was calm enough she started to summon her powers. But something was wrong. Mal looked around herself and realised that her Memoriam wasn’t there. They had stolen it, and the meter on her bracelet showed that her magic energy was completely depleted. She couldn’t use her magic. She was helpless.

  Mal felt the panic rising inside her again, but forced it down. She looked around the room again, assessing her situation. Okay, Mal, she thought to herself. No powers, no weapons. It’s up to you now. Come on, you idiot, think. How are you going to get out of here?

  Mal closed her eyes and tried to focus, but she couldn’t see any way to free herself. She didn’t have anything to cut the leather with, and it was much too strong for her to break. Groaning in frustration, she banged her head a few times against the table, hoping that would help. It didn’t.

  “Don’t do that.” A stern male voice rang out across the room.

  Mal’s eyes flew open. While she was busy thinking, two people had appeared by her cell door. One tall male with, one short female, both dressed in tight fitting black clothes underneath an open purple and gold robe that had its hem trailing in the grimy dust of the prison, with their finger and toe nails painted ink black. A quick glance at their hands confirmed Mal’s suspicions: they too beared the rune. Mal stared at it in annoyance. As far as she was concerned, knowing what the hell that rune meant would help her uncover more about the strange story surrounding her, but she was no closer to finding out what it meant then she was the day it first appeared before her eyes. The fact that it kept reappearing was like it was taunting her, dancing just out of the reach of her fingertips. The man had a set of keys in his left hand and his right on the cell door, pushing it open. The bottom of the door screeched against the floor while the rusty hinges squeaked in protest.

  “Who are you?” Mal demanded as the man closed the door behind him and his companion.

  The man chuckled, turning to face her. “You can call me Asher, and her Emily.”

  “Where am I?” Mal asked.

  Asher sighed as if he was disappointed in her. “Who are you, where am I. They all ask the same questions. Can’t you at least try to be original?”

  Mal bristled. She knew he was baiting her, but she didn’t care. “Fine. Tell me where I am or I’ll introduce your face to a cheese grater.”

  The man laughed, throwing back his head. “Such brave words from one so helpless.”

  Mal glared at him, and then looked towards Emily instead. She was regarding Mal calmly with deep brown eyes Mal found difficult to stare directly into. She lowered her gaze, and Emily chuckled before shaking back her sleeve and looking at a slim beige watch attached to her wrist. She looked at Asher. “We should start to extraction process now. You know how she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” There was a lot of anxiety in her voice.

  Asher nodded, and they both moved forwards until they were standing right next to Mal’s bed. They stared straight ahead and raised their arms, hands open and hovering over Mal’s immobile body.

  “Wait! Stop! What
are you...?” Suddenly, streams of purple magic shot out of their palms. As soon as they touched Mal’s skin, she started screaming in pain, arching up from the table and thrashing around to try and free herself. The magic was penetrating her skin, reaching deep inside her to her very bones. It felt like a fist had grabbed her heart and was squeezing it tightly, trying to rip it out of her chest. Mal felt like her bones were splintering, cracks appearing in the surface like breaking glass. Her internal organs were twisting, being ripped to shreds by the vicious claws of the dark magic. Mal closed her eyes and screamed. The magic increased in intensity, pulling her apart as she yelled, trying to claw herself free of her restraints.

  I’m going to die... Mal thought to herself. This is too much. It’s going to tear me apart from the inside out. I’m going to die here...

  Just as Mal thought there was no way she could take any more, the pain stopped. It just vanished, leaving a dull ache behind. Mal lay on the cold metal of the table, whimpering and drenched in sweat, completely exhausted. She opened her eyes. Her vision was hazy, like she was looking through a thick swathe of fog. She blinked a few times, and it cleared.

  She realised that both Emily and Asher were looking at her, the surprise and anxiety clear in their eyes. Mal tried to speak, but she couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t form the words through the haze of pain shrouding her. After a few more seconds of silence, Emily turned to Asher. “Why didn’t it work?” she asked.

  Asher leaned forwards and poked Mal’s leg in confusion. Mal groaned in pain. “I don’t know...in the spell books it said that we’d be able to extract her powers in just a few seconds.”

  Mal finally managed to get some words out. “What...do you want with...my powers?” she asked.

  Emily scoffed. “What do you think, you stupid child? With your powers, our mistress would be indestructible.”

  “And we will serve at her side, her most trusted companions,” Asher said. His voice was soft, his eyes distant, caught up in his fantasies.

  Emily looked back at Mal, a thoughtful look in her eyes. Then she said “how long has it been since you started using your powers?”

  “A few months,” Mal replied.

  Asher nodded. “That must be it then. Her powers have been lying dormant for years. They’re still not fully formed yet, and rooted deep within her soul. We’ll have to weaken her body to get her magic out.”

  Asher nodded, regarding Mal thoughtfully. Emily tugged on his sleeve impatiently like a small child. “We should probably go and tell mistress.”

  Asher nodded, still looking at Mal. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Emily and Asher turned in almost perfect synchronisation and walked out of the room in a swirl of cloaks and dust. Just before she left, Emily glanced over her shoulder to look at Mal, her clear blue eyes lingering on Mal’s deep brown eyes for a second before she looked away and let the cell door shut behind her and Asher with a clang.

  Chapter 21

  As soon as Emily and Asher’s footsteps faded into silence, Mal started testing her bonds, straining against the tough leather that bound her to the table. Although she yanked and pulled at it for ages, she could feel no signs of it loosening. The knots were tied tightly and expertly, cutting into her skin, but Mal didn’t stop pulling at them until she had thin rivulets of blood trickling down her arms. She collapsed against the table, biting her lip to stop herself crying out from the pain in her wrists. She was painfully aware of the guard standing outside her cell door, and the last thing she wanted to do was show any form of weakness in front of her. Mal hadn’t had a chance to see the face of her guard since she was standing with her back to the cell bars, but she was dressed in the same clothes as Emily and Asher with a long, shimmering curtain of black hair brushing her waist. Apart from a slight breeze spinning through the room and dancing with the strands of her hair, she never moved. For some reason, Mal found that incredibly annoying.

  Night fell and the cell darkened along with Mal’s hopes. She’d spent the last few hours trying to break the straps that tied her to the table or to prise information from her guard, but so far she hadn’t been at all successful. She’d been forced to stop talking after her throat and mouth dried up so much that whenever she talked she sounded like an elderly frog. The room was spinning like a carousel on drugs, and the grumbles of her stomach woke her up every time she started to slip into unconsciousness. She hadn’t had anything to eat or drink for almost two days.

  She winced as a particularly high-pitched groan emerged from her stomach and echoed around the chamber. A quick flash of movement caught her eye, and Mal’s heart instantly jumped to her throat. Her head snapped to the side, pressing against the cold metal of her table. Her guard’s head had cocked to one side, the pale skin of her neck exposed as she listened intently. A smooth white mask covered her face, with the same symbol painted underneath the right eye in black ink. The lips of the mask were delicately painted a red brighter than the colour splashed across the sky as light emerges from the horizon. Her eyes, burning with a blue more vibrant then the hottest star, studied Mal’s frail body sprawled on the table. They stared at each other. Mal felt like she should look away, but forces stronger than she could ever aspire to be kept her staring into the infinite abyss of those eyes. Suddenly, the guard looked away, and just like that the darkness came flooding back and Mal was lost.

  She looked back up at the ceiling, relaxing her tense muscles and breathing deeply. She tried to centre her thoughts, gather up what little energy she had left, when a shuffling sound caught her attention. She looked towards her guard again, and saw that she was properly moving for the first time. With her feet dragging across the floor, the guard started to haul herself down the corridor. Her movements were stiff and jerky, like a puppet whose strings were being yanked suddenly. Each twitch of her muscles, each breath, seemed to take her a great deal of effort. It was like she was dragging an immense weight behind her.

  Mal watched with interest as the guard limped away, looking like she was suffocating under the weight of the world. She didn’t come back for a very long time. Mal redoubled her efforts to get out, but yelped as the straps cut into her healing wounds. Frustrated and disappointed, she collapsed back onto her table and stared at the ceiling. Whenever she felt like she could without breaking every bone in her body, she tried to break the straps again, or even conjure up her powers, even though she knew it was hopeless without her Memoriam. She couldn’t do these things for very long though, the pain was like shards of glass ripping apart her skin from the insides.

  Eventually, the guard came back. She was moving easier now, like the rust on her joints had disappeared. In her hands, she was clutching a large bottle of water and a plate piled with various foods so tightly her knuckles were white. Mal watched apprehensively as the guard approached her cell and unlocked it with a key that hung from her belt. The squeak of the hinges filled the awkward silence between them. Mal cringed away as the guard approached her. The mask scared her.

  The guard placed the food and water at her feet and unsheathed a bronze, curved dagger from her belt. For a brief, terrifying second Mal thought that she was going to stab her. Helpless, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head, too tired to do anything but lie there and wait for the searing pain that would be her last sensation.

  Mal felt the bonds around her wrists getting looser. She opened her eyes and arched her head to try and look behind her. Her guard was using the dagger to cut through the leather at her wrists. The cold metal of the blade brushed against Mal’s wrists as the dagger went back and forth, and finally the bloodstained leather straps fell to the floor. Mal sat up, rubbing her sore wrists, and instantly she was grabbed from behind and the dagger was placed at her throat. She froze. The curve of the dagger just brushed the arch of her throat, as soft and silent and death’s kiss, making goose bumps shudder up and down her arms. She stayed perfectly still as her guard slowly bent down and picked up the bread and water. She handed it to Mal, but didn’t
remove the dagger from her throat or the straps around her ankles.

  Despite the intense hunger and thirst that she had to fight, Mal made her movements slow and sure, scared of what would happen if she did anything unexpected. She unscrewed the bottle and drained the water and ripped pieces of the bread away. Every time she swallowed, her throat pressed just a little bit more against the blade of the knife. The sharp edge scraped against her skin. The strands of her guard’s hair flicked across her face and tickled her shoulders, an annoying prickling on her skin. Each breath the guard took cooled the back of Mal’s neck and chilled the nervous sweat there.

  As soon as Mal had finished eating and drinking, the guard removed the dagger from her throat. Before Mal could do anything, she grabbed her hands and pulled her backwards, slamming her onto the table and quickly re-tying her hands with more leather straps. They were twice as tight as before, and Mal whimpered as the guard fastened them around her wrists. The sharp and biting pain as the straps dug into her wounds turned to a dull ache as the guard finished the knots and walked away, locking the door behind her and tucking her keys securely into her belt. After a minute or so, Mal softly said “thank you.” The guard’s head twitched forward slightly, but she didn’t further acknowledge Mal’s words. Mal felt like some kind of bond had been forged between them, but she wasn’t entirely sure of why or what it was. Either way, she knew it was as fragile as a cracking sheet of ice on top of a pond in winter, and one wrong step would send her falling into the icy waters. She hated that her best chance of getting out of here was so fragile. She didn’t trust herself not to completely mess it up, so she decided that the best thing for her to do was try to ignore the biting pain in her wrists and sleep.