by Ruby Brown
Chapter 22
“I don’t understand,” Emily said angrily. “She should be weak enough by now! We need her powers now, or...”
“Calm down,” Asher said, but his own voice was tipped with anxiety.
Mal closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to savour the brief moment of respite. The sweat that drenched her body made her hair stick to her temples and every muscle twitched with the aftershocks of the pain. She’d been woken up by the wonderful sensation of being ripped in two. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Her hands and feet had gone numb at some point during the night, but at least that meant that most of the pain from the straps had ebbed away.
Asher raised his right hand and Mal started screaming again until Asher clenched his hand, making it stop. His face was coldly furious, whereas Emily’s was torn with anxiety and fear. Mal was worried that they’d become suspicious of her guard. She would hate to see her punished for helping her. Even through all of the screaming, Mal’s guard had stayed stoic at the door. Drowning in a torrent of emotions, none of them positive, Emily and Asher left the cell. The door shut behind them with a loud clang, and Mal felt her muscles relax.
Over the next few weeks Mal stayed imprisoned in the cell. Emily and Asher didn’t give her any food, and up until Mal collapsed they made her exercise almost constantly. They were very careful to keep her alive, but weak so that the extraction spell that they performed at least once every day had a better chance of working. Mal knew that the only reason they didn’t have her powers yet was her guard. Every night she would go down to the kitchens and come back with more food and water than the night before. She started bringing lavender-scented creams to rub into the red marks on Mal’s wrists, and eventually she stopped pulling out her knife.
The guard was usually very quiet and shy, but on good nights Mal could convince her to hold actual conversations. It became a sort of fun challenge for Mal to come up with questions or topics her guard was forced to answer with more than a simple nod or shake of her head. Mal learnt to stay clear of certain topics, as they would make her guard instantly tie her to the table again and resume her position outside the cell. The guard wouldn’t share any information about where Mal was or what exactly Emily and Asher were up to, and she wouldn’t give any personal information other than her name was Thea and she was fifteen, but the two soon became friends. Mal felt that they were both grateful just for someone to talk to. The only time Thea ever frightened Mal was when she asked her to take off her mask.
“No,” Thea replied firmly. She flinched away from Mal, as if the words she spoke were dipped in poison.
“Why not?” Mal asked. She felt like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff, but she’d been wondering about this for weeks and she wanted an answer. Thea didn’t respond, she just stared at the grey floor and hoped Mal would change the subject. Eventually Mal reached forward to try and take off the mask. She was quick, managing to snag the bottom of the mask with her fingertips and lift it up to expose her chin before Thea slapped her hand away, hard.
”Ow!” Mal said angrily, holding her hand close to her chest. Thea immediately seized both of Mal’s hands and slammed them to the table, binding them tighter then she had in weeks. Then she turned and practically ran out of the cell, slamming the door behind her and locking it firmly before turning around so she had her back to the cell door. Even from inside the cell, Mal could hear Thea’s heavy breathing. She didn’t understand why she was so upset.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realise it was so important to you,” Mal said softly. Thea didn’t move, but the next night she came back into the cell with food and water like always. Neither of them mentioned what had happened, instead they chose to stay in the frustrating but safe realm of small talk for a few days, which became increasingly difficult as Mal became more and more desperate to leave. She was so close to breaking point. She was teetering at the edge of the cliff, and she didn’t have any way to stop herself from falling. Even with Thea helping her, Mal knew that Emily and Asher would have her powers within the next few days at most. She was dying to talk to her guard about the possibility of leaving. Surely Thea wanted to get out as well? God knows how long she’d been down here, surrounded by nothing but dirty walls and shrill screams, but a part of Mal was scared Thea would tell Emily and Asher. Eventually, after one particularly brutal torture session, Mal decided she had to get over it and talk to Thea. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Hey, Thea?” Mal cautiously said that night as Thea handed her a bottle of water. Thea’s eyes immediately hardened until they were like doll’s eyes, cold and expressionless. She could already tell from Mal’s tone that this was going to be a serious discussion, and she didn’t want to give anything away. Her hard eyes mixed with the mask and robes made her look like a creepy china doll from a horror film. Thea didn’t say anything, so Mal continued the discussion. “Have you ever been out of here?”
Thea shook her head, sadness and longing glinting behind the glass of her eyes. “Never?” Mal said in surprise. Thea shook her head again, and lowered her eyes to stare at the floor. She was fidgeting nervously, her fingers twisting back and forth like the threads of a spider web. Mal watched her body language intently. She was scared that Thea would end up leaving the cell like she did when Mal tried to take her mask off. A part of her was telling her to just drop it, but so much relied on the outcome of this conversation. It was too important just to let go. “Is there anything you’d like to see?”
Thea hesitated, and for a brief second Mal thought she was just not going to reply, but then she realised Thea was just thinking intently. There was silence before Thea’s gentle voice filled the space and she said “I’ve always wanted to see the ocean.”
Mal smiled. “I love the ocean. My family and I go there a lot.”
Thea looked up. “What’s it like?” The words came tumbling out of her mouth. She didn’t seem able to stop them. Hope and excitement lit up her eyes. She looked more alive than Mal had ever seen her. Anxious to fan the flames before the spark died, Mal launched into an explanation of the ocean. She talked about how during the summer the colours at the beach were so vibrant it hurts your eyes. The yellow sand, the white clouds, and the azure water that reflected the golden rays of sunlight so that it looked like each wave contained hundreds of glittering diamonds that broke apart in a fantastic spray as they crashed against the rocks. She described the feeling of jumping into the cool water as a respite from the scorching sun that burned overhead, and the hot bricks under your feet as you walked up and down the pavement in search of ice-cream or chips and then fighting off the seagulls that inevitably thought they were entitled to a piece of your food. Thea laughed at that, and it was simultaneously the happiest and saddest sound Mal had ever heard.
Even though it hurt her to remember her family, Mal forced herself to talk about all the memories she had of them together at the beach. Mal and Felix would always turn every beach visit into a series of competitions. First, it was jumping off of the jetty to see who could make the biggest splash, the smallest splash, who could jump the furthest, who could do the best flip. She smiled as she remembered the sensation of flying through the air and hitting the water so hard the salt stung your skin and the triumph every time she beat Felix. She had always idolized her big brother, and to be better than him at anything, even if it was small, was amazing to her. Technically, jumping off the jetty wasn’t allowed, but their parents could never find the heart to interrupt their fun. The lifeguards could though, and after their competition was inevitably cut short they’d return to the sand to see who could make the best sandcastle.
Mal would always win, not necessarily because her castle was always better than Felix’s, but because while he would build large, haphazard towers that were shot through with sharp rocks like piece of shrapnel, Mal would spend what seemed like years combing the beach for smooth, circular rocks and spiralling seashells to decorate the delicately shaped turrets of
her own castle. Felix would always get bored long before Mal was finished, so he would say that she won just so they could race each other back to the water to wash the sand off the bodies and then see who could swim the furthest or hold their breath for the longest. They could spend forever in the cool and brilliant water. As the sky set itself on fire, they returned home exhausted, covered in sand, salt and sweat.
She talked about New Years Eve, when her family would go down to the beach to watch the celebratory fireworks. As the sky darkened, Mal and Felix would crack glow sticks and fasten them around wrists and necks so that their parents could keep track of them as they ran around the beach like neon ghosts. They would light sparklers and write in the darkness, trailing sparks behind them. It was like holding the stars in your hands. Then their parents would call them back to the picnic blanket and together they would wait with eager eyes and shallow breaths for the first rocket to whistle into the air and explode with light, sound and colour, bringing every single person on that beach together for a moment of awe. Then a second rocket would explode, a third, a fourth, until the entire sky was alive and dancing.
Thea asked what the beach was like in the colder months, when the sun was shrouded in grey clouds. Mal told her that sometimes her friends would dare each other to jump into the freezing water. They’d almost always get sick afterwards, but it was worth it. Mal loved visiting the beach on a sunny autumn day, when the rust-coloured leaves clashed brilliantly with the sky and sea. She talked about the stormy seas that sent sailors to their graves and tsunamis that wrecked entire cities. She talked about the small, silvery fish you could find in the shallow waters at the beach, and compared them to great whites with razor-sharp teeth and the terrifying creatures that lived in the darkest depths of the ocean. Thea listened with wide eyes, hanging on to every word, until Mal became breathless and ran out of words to say.
Thea leant back on her heels, staring at the ceiling with sparkling eyes as if even in the underground dungeon she could see the shining stars in the sky. “That sounds amazing...” she whispered, so quietly Mal could barely hear her.
Mal saw her opportunity, and took it. “If you get me out of here, I promise I’ll take you to see the ocean.”
Thea snapped upright. Her eyes were wide; full of so many emotions Mal couldn’t just name one. Her feelings wreaked havoc on her face for a moment, before her eyes grew cold again, like frost slowly spreading across a pond. “Really?” she said, her voice guarded in a way that betrayed she’d been let down so many times before.
“Yes,” Mal said firmly, hoping that Thea could hear the sincerity in her voice.
Thea nodded slowly, and that was all she said for the rest of the night. No matter how much Mal tried to provoke her into saying something, she just glared at Mal like she was being an annoying two year old, and went back to staring at the walls in silence.
For the next few days, Mal forced herself to stay in the frustrating but safe realm of small talk. Mal knew that Thea needed some time to think about things, but it was incredibly difficult for her to give her that time, especially as she could tell Thea was thinking about something big. Sparks were flying behind her eyes as she became increasingly distant, isolating herself from the rest of the world and jumping at small noises as they brought her back to reality. Mal was desperate to know what was happening inside her mind, but she was too scared to ask. Through the long days in her cell, she often found herself staring at the back of Thea’s head and wondering what she would see if there was a window there. She hoped it would be pleasant, but common sense told her otherwise.
The day that Thea’s plan came to fruition, Mal could tell something was up as soon as the rays of sunlight streaming through the window made her open her eyes. Thea was standing at her cell door with every one of her muscles tense. No part of her moved except for her eyes darting around the corridors and her fingers tapping anxiously against her hands. Mal spoke softly to her, trying to figure out what was wrong and how she could help, but the lack of response from Thea eventually annoyed her into giving up.
When Emily and Asher came into the room, they tortured her for longer than usual. It was evident that their mistress, whoever she was, was becoming impatient and they feared her. When they weren’t hurting her they were huddled in a corner of the cell whispering quietly, shooting nervous glances in Mal’s direction. It was late afternoon before they finally left, leaving Mal lying on the cold cell floor, soaked in sweat and tears, panting as she curled herself into a ball and tried to stifle her sobs, clutching her aching body. She looked out the window and watched the stars gathering in the sky, lit by the light of the full moon. Eventually, exhausted and weak, she closed her eyes and felt herself start to drift off to sleep.
A few minutes after she fell asleep, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking her to wake her up. She opened her eyes and yelled in fear when she saw the completely blank mask of Thea right in front of her face. Thea clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her shout. She panicked briefly for a second before she realised who it was. The fear left her eyes, and Thea removed her hand from Mal’s mouth. “Put this on,” she said sternly, and reached inside her cloak and pulled out an identical cloak and mask.
“Where did you get this?” Mal asked as she started to pull the cloak on.
“Lost and Found,” Thea replied.
“I didn’t know evil cults had a lost and found.” Mal finished pulling on her outfit. The cloak was too big for her and smelt of sweat, and the mask was so small it squished her nose into her face. “It’s not the right size.”
“Stop being picky,” Thea said. “Come on, let’s go. Keep close behind me and stay quiet.”
Mal put her hood up and followed Thea out the door and up the stairs. Their footsteps echoed up the stairwell. At the top of the stairs there was a long corridor with grey-green doors lining the walls. They all bore the same markings as was painted high on the left cheek of the masks everyone here seemed to wear. In between each door was a blazing torch, making the gold doorknobs shine and glint in the light they produced.
Mal followed Thea down the corridor. Thankfully, it was pretty much deserted. They turned left, then right, then right again before coming to a door larger than the others. Thea bent down and pulled out a paperclip and started to pick the lock. Mal smiled at him from underneath her mask.
“What are we doing here?” she whispered to him.
“Getting your Memoriam,” Thea hissed back. “This is the office of the second in command. It’ll be in a cabinet somewhere.”
“Is this the mistress Emily and Asher always talk about?” Mal asked quietly. She suddenly felt very nervous and afraid. Emily and Asher always spoke of their mistress with fear and trepidation. Whoever this mistress was she was clearly a force to be reckoned with.
“No, it’s just another one of her minions. The one they call mistress rarely comes here.”
Mal breathed a sigh of relief just as Thea managed to pick the lock. She stood up and pushed the door open gently, then slipped inside. Mal followed her and once they were both inside the room Thea shut the door, plunging them both into darkness for a second before there was the click of a light switch and the room came ablaze with light.
It was a small room, but very, very messy. The entire floor was covered in papers, books, figurines (some of which had been smashed), candles, pens and plates that seemed to have held some kind of food substance once upon a time. Whoever owned the room had carved a clean path through the mess to a large desk in the centre of the room, which had more papers and candles strewn across it. One bottle of ink had overturned and was now slowly dripping the black substance onto the floor, making a permanent stain on the carpet.
Interestingly enough, the only object in the room that wasn’t broken or damaged in any way was a delicate white and pink teacup with a gold rim with a small plate of the same design, both resting precariously on top of a stack of books.
Thea quickly moved to the desk. She bent do
wn and started using her paperclip on the drawers that the desk contained. Mal came up behind her and watched the door anxiously as Thea unlocked each drawer with his paperclip and rustled through its contents. Much like the floor, the draws were in a permanent state of disarray and containing the strangest things: dog biscuits, shards of glass, a whole box of broken matches, multi-coloured ribbons wound around each other and even a dead bird.
When he found the dead bird, Thea looked at it sadly for a second. She reached out and gently stroked its stiff body with his the tips of his fingers, smoothing its ruffled and bloodstained feathers. Mal looked down at her. “Come on, keep going! We have to get out of here,” she hissed. Her anxiety was starting to kick in.
When she spoke, Thea jerked suddenly, as if she was coming out of an intensive daydream. After a moment’s hesitation she stuffed the dead bird into her cloak and continued searching for Mal’s memoriam with an increased level of determination and anxiety.
Finally, on the final drawer that she tried, he pulled out Mal’s memoriam triumphantly from underneath a pile of broken candlesticks. He gave it to Mal, who seized it happily and slipped the bracelet over her wrist. Immediately, she felt a sense of supreme calmness sweep over her. A weight she didn’t know she had been carrying vanished into nothingness and left her feeling more alive than ever before. Her blood was zinging in her veins, her heart thumping as she clenched her fists, grinning like the Cheshire cat.
Just then, the door slammed open and Mal’s thumping heart stopped suddenly as if turned to stone. Next to her, Thea took a protective step so that she was shielding part of her body with her own. For her own part, Mal was frozen to the spot in fear as she stared at the man who had appeared in the doorway. He had the wide-set face and squat stature of a toad, a very fat and sweaty toad that reeked of alcohol. He staggered into the office, crumpling and crushing objects under his feet. He was dressed in the same clothes as Thea, but they were dirty and rumpled, stained with sweat and straining to keep his massive bulk contained.