by Ruby Brown
“The phone. I’ve been getting texts from Felix’s phone. You took it, didn’t you? You stole it from him after you killed him.”
Silent, Claire nodded.
“How did you know where I was?”
“The bracelet I gave you...the friendship bracelet...it’s a tracking device. Akraansir wanted some way to keep track of you, so he...”
Mal didn’t let Claire finish her sentence. Furiously, she grabbed the bracelet and yanked it so the chain snapped. She threw it, hard, into a corner of Claire’s cell. Claire stood still, staring at the broken bracelet.
“You’ve had plenty of opportunities to kill me over the past three years. Why didn’t you?” Mal said, remembering with a sick feeling in her stomach all the times she and Claire had hung out alone or slept at each other’s houses.
“I couldn’t kill you.”
“You couldn’t kill me...but you could kill Felix.”
Claire looked down. “I’m sorry...”
“Sorry doesn’t bring him back. Fuck you, Claire.”
There was silence for a moment while Mal tried to get her anger back under control. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and continued talking. “Surely Akraansir was constantly asking you why you hadn’t killed me yet?”
“Yeah...”
“So why didn’t you just kill me? Surely it would have been more convenient for you.” Mal could hear the bitterness in her voice.
“Because...” Claire’s voice was strained, as if it was taking her a lot of effort to say the next few words. “Because I’m in love with you.”
That got Mal’s attention. Her eyes snapped open, fixing immediately on her friend. Claire smiled ruefully. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time, Mal. You can’t imagine what a shock it was for me, realising that I was in love with the person I was meant to kill. It was even harder to deal with because you’re a girl, and you know how homophobic my parents are. But I’m going to die anyway, so I may as well just tell you now. I’m in love with you.”
Mal was in shock. Her head was spinning again. She just couldn’t deal with this.
When Mal didn’t move or say anything, Claire cautiously came forward. Carefully, she put one of her hands through the bars and touched Mal’s face gently. Completely thrown, not knowing what to do, Mal let her.
Smiling sadly, Claire looked directly into Mal’s eyes. “Beautiful...” she said softly.
Mal suddenly snapped. She slapped Claire’s hand away, so hard that she left a red handprint on Claire’s pale skin. Shocked, Claire withdrew her arm, touching the bruised skin.
“I hate you,” Mal spat, and she turned on her heel and started to walk out of the dungeon.
“Wait!” Claire called after her, gripping the bars of her cell. “You can’t leave me here! They’re going to kill me!”
“Good riddance,” Mal said angrily.
“But if you kill me, you’ll never find out where your parents are!” Claire shouted.
Mal stopped. Clenching her fists, she stood in the middle of the cells and shook with anger. “You know where my parents are?” Mal asked.
“Yes. I saw them being brought in; I know exactly where they are. Let me go, and I can take you to them. I promise. Just let me out of here.”
When Mal didn’t respond, Claire cried “they’re going to kill me!” Mal could hear the fear in her voice, and she took a twisted kind of pleasure from it.
Mal paused for a moment, and then said “when you see Felix, tell him hello from me. Tell him I love him.”
Ignoring the rest of Claire’s pleas, Mal walked straight out of the dungeons.
Chapter 30
Mal couldn’t stop replaying about the conversation she’d had with Claire. It was so much to take in and she didn’t know if she could cope. She ate her breakfast in silence, listening to the people around her excitedly chatter about the upcoming execution, and she felt sick. She couldn’t believe she was going to have to watch her best friend be executed. Part of her believed that Claire deserved it for what she had done to Felix, and that terrified her.
Eventually, Mal couldn’t take it anymore. Leaving the table, muttering something about training, she hurried down to the library. She had always been able to find some comfort in her books, and that was what she needed right now. She picked a thick fantasy novel from the shelves and sat down. Then she realised she had been reading the same opening sentence over and over again for the past half hour.
Mal snapped the book shut, shoved it back on the shelf, and stormed out of the library. She couldn’t quite figure out why she was so angry, she just was. She went down to the training rooms and started to practise throwing knives, hurling them at the targets without much care as to where they landed or whether they hit the target.
Eventually, the training manager came up and stood behind her. Mal ignored him, continuing to throw knives at the targets. None of them hit the mark; they just slid to the floor uselessly. Mal didn’t care.
Meekly, the training manager said “maybe if you calmed down...refined your technique a little, you’d be able to...”
Mal growled in anger and dropped the knives she was holding, letting them clatter to the ground. Kicking them aside, she went to the nearest punching bag and started practicing on that until her arms and legs were numb. After that, she felt slightly better, to her great relief. Exhausted, she sat down against the wall, watching the others fight.
She started to think about her parents, trapped with Akraansir. She remembered the desperate tone in Claire’s voice when she told her that she knew where her parents were, and wondered if she could trust Claire enough to believe her. But...if she was telling the truth...maybe Blaise would send a team to go get her family back. If they knew what part of Akraansir’s headquarters they were located in, it couldn’t be that hard....
On shaky legs, Mal stood up and started to stumble her way to Cass’s office, a small bit of hope starting to bloom in her chest. Surely Blaise couldn’t say no now. She started to rehearse what she was going to say in her head, mentally prepping herself. She reached the giant double doors that marked the entrance to Cass’s office. She raised her fist, clenching her other hand tightly, and knocked twice. There was a moment’s silence, and then a muffled voice said “come in.”
Taking a deep breath, Mal pushed open the doors and walked into Cass’s spacious office. Cass was curled up in a chair, barefoot and reading a book. Blaise was standing behind the desk ruffling through some papers. They both looked up curiously as Mal entered. Cass smiled, but Blaise just glared at her. “What do you want?” he snapped.
Swallowing nervously, Mal said “I went down to the dungeons and spoke with Claire last night...”
“You went down to the dungeons and spoke with a notorious killer at night time?” Blaise asked in disbelief.
Mal bristled. “Yes.”
“She didn’t hurt you, did she?” Cass asked, concerned.
Mal shook her head. “No. She...she was shackled to the floor.” Mal’s breath caught in her throat for a second as she remembered how pathetic Claire had looked sitting there, chains wrapped around her slim body.
“What did she say?” Cass asked.
“She said she knew where my parents are. She told me she could take me to them.”
There was a moment of silence, which Mal broke my saying meekly “please...can we go and get them? Now that we know where they are...”
“We don’t know where they are,” Blaise said firmly.
“But Claire does.”
Blaise scoffed. “So we’re going to walk into one of the most dangerous places on this planet, following the word of a murderer? How do you know it’s not a trap?”
“Claire wouldn’t...” Mal began, and then she stopped herself. She didn’t know what Claire would or wouldn’t do anymore. She still trusted Claire, of course she did, but she trusted the girl she grew up with, not the person she had become. Mal wondered just how much of Claire was her friend, and how much
was the person that had killed her brother.
“We’re not getting your parents. It’s best that you forget them,” Blaise said.
“Last time I checked, you’re not in charge here,” Mal said angrily. Blaise scowled as Mal turned to Cass. “Cass, please. I need my family.”
Cass hesitated, looked at Blaise. “Forget him,” Mal snapped. She was so sick of Cass turning to Blaise for every little decision.
Even as she said it, Mal knew that she had lost Cass. She was quailing under Blaise’s furious gaze. Mal could almost see her resolve and confidence crumbling around her. She tried one last time to convince her: “Cass, you’re in charge, not Blaise. Please...”
“Maybe...” Cass said. She glanced back at Blaise, then coughed and said “maybe it’s best if we don’t do anything...”
Mal glared at Blaise, who looked back triumphantly. They stood there, looking directly at each other. Cass muttered something about feeling hungry, and left the room. Mal turned to follow her, but Blaise called her back.
“What is it?” Mal snapped.
Blaise grinned. He was enjoying this way too much, Mal thought. “I want you to come down to this office tonight. 8pm sharp.”
“Why?”
“You’re going to write lines. I must respect authority. 50 times should be enough.”
Mal couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “We’re not in school, you bastard. I’m not doing something as pointless as that just so you can further your ego. If you get any more big-headed, you’re not going to fit through the door.”
Blaise’s eyes flashed. “100 times, I must respect authority. You’ll be here tonight, and you’d better be on time or I’ll take away your outdoor privileges.”
Mal ground her teeth together. Blaise knew how much her outside hours meant to her. Furious, Mal walked out of the office and went to find her friends so she could rant angrily to them. After all, what are friends for?
Being around her friends did make her feel better. They were all sympathetic to her situation, nodding and agreeing with her as she went on about how annoying Blaise was. At some point, Mal got the feeling that her friends weren’t really listening to her, just murmuring agreement to whatever she said, but she was too worked up to care. She was still ranting as they went to the Great Hall to have dinner, but seeing Blaise’s face up at the head table finally shut her up. She sat down and ate her dinner in a stony silence, trying to calm herself down because she knew that if she went into Cass’s office in this state, she wouldn’t last more than two seconds without killing him.
After dinner, Mal trudged to Cass’s office, knocked on the door and opened it. Blaise was standing at the window, looking out at the stars, but he turned around when he heard Mal come in. He grinned at her, and Mal scowled back. She had to be here, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“You can sit at my desk,” Blaise said. Keeping her eyes on him, Mal went and sat down at the desk, where two pieces of lined paper and a pen were waiting for her. Mal picked up the pen and started writing as fast as she could, determined to get this done as quickly as possible. She was ten lines in before Blaise said “your handwriting is almost illegible. Slow down, or I’ll add another fifty lines.”
Gritting her teeth, Mal forced herself to write neatly. As she wrote, Blaise started to talk about the execution that was happening tonight. Mal knew he was just winding her up, and she hated him for it. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself from grinding her teeth and gripping the pen so hard she was sure it would break.
Finally, Blaise seemed to get tired of taunting her. He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and held them up, selecting a small key to open the cabinet next to his desk.
“That’s a lot of keys,” Mal remarked.
“It has the keys for everything in Tenebar. I’m the only one Cass trusts with it,” Blaise said proudly as he rifled through the cabinet.
“Hmm...” Mal said, not really listening. She could feel Blaise’s eyes burning into the top of her head, confused, as if he couldn’t understand how anyone could show such little interest in what he had to say.
“I’ll be back in a minute. Stay here,” Blaise said firmly, and left the room. She continued to write her lines, determined to get them done, until something caught her eye. Mal looked up and saw that in his hurry, Blaise had left the keys in the lock of the cabinet. Scornfully, Mal remembered the way Blaise had bragged about having the keys in his possession.
Mal went back to her lines, but then she paused. Wait...Blaise had told her that the keys were for everything in Tenebar...did that include...
Mal knew she didn’t have a lot of time. Standing up, she hurried over to the keys and yanked them out of the lock. She went to the door and peeked around the corners cautiously before starting to run. She darted down the cells until she reached Claire’s cell. Claire was sleeping, but woke up when she heard Mal’s rushed footsteps. “Mal?” asked Claire groggily, rubbing her eyes.
“Shut up,” Mal said, inspecting the keys in her hand and trying to find the right one to open the jail cell.
“What are you doing?”
“I said shut up.”
Silent, Claire watched as Mal tried to unsuccessfully open the cell with several different keys before she finally found the right one. As soon as the door swung open, Mal grabbed Claire’s hand and started to pull her out of the cell. “Come with me. Hurry.”
“You’re rescuing me?” Claire asked in disbelief.
Mal felt that the answer was obvious, so she didn’t respond.
“Wait. If you have they keys to the jail cells, can’t you save my friends too? They’re going to be executed and...”
“No,” Mal said firmly.
“You’re just going to let them die?” Claire asked angrily. “You can’t do that!”
“Watch me,” Mal said. She noticed Claire open her mouth to say something else and responded furiously “if you don’t shut it, I will shove you back in that cell. I mean it, Claire.”
Claire shut her mouth with a snap. As they ran down the jail cells, the other prisoners started calling out to Mal, begging her to release them too. Mal gritted her teeth and clenched the keys tighter in her hand as she sensed Claire looking at them, potentially trying to decide whether or not to take them from her shaking hands. To distract herself from the whimpers and strangled, desperate cries around her, she strained her mind to conjure a detailed map of Tenebar, with all its well-lit corridors containing hundreds of people. How was she going to pull this off? Cautiously, Mal poked her head around the door and her heart sunk to the floor when she saw that the corridors were still swarming with people, despite the moon glowing overhead. She decided that her best chance was just to stick to the walls and glide past the crowd, praying that in the mass of colours and voices, no one would see them.
She pulled off her hoodie and passed it to Claire, insisting that she put it on. Claire flipped the hood up to obscure most of her face and gave Mal a thumbs-up. “Stay behind me, and for God’s sake be quiet,” Mal hissed, and slunk away from the door. Claire followed so close behind that Mal could feel the tops of her shoes grazing her ankles as they walked. Although Mal kept her head down, her eyes were looking all over the place, carefully tracking the movements around her and flashing towards loud noises. She was tense, anxious, her breathing shallow. She was surprised no one around her could hear her heartbeat, pumping the adrenaline around her body. Her footsteps got faster and faster as they neared the door. Almost there. Almost there. Almost...
Mal reached for the handle of the entrance and cracked the door open just wide enough for Claire to slip through. A cold breeze washed over her face, carrying the faint, sweet smell of the flowers blooming in the garden. She could see the stars blazing in the sky, individual drops of fire in an infinite sea of darkness. She spared one last glance for the room and people behind her, hoping that all her thanks and apologies were conveyed in that single ghostly look, and followed.
Mal and Clai
re turned a corner, and collided with someone else. Her heart beating wildly in her chest, Mal seized her pocket knife and gripped the hilt tightly as she shoved her arm against the person, pushing them into the wall and shoving the knife against their neck. Suddenly, Mal realised that it was Trixie she was holding up against the wall, not Blaise as she had feared. Trixie looked absolutely terrified, staring down at Mal with wide eyes, her breathing fast and heavy. Immediately, Mal let go, and Trixie slid to the floor. Mal saw a thin trickle of scarlet blood carving its way down her neck, and her stomach lurched. “I’m so sorry,” she said, hurriedly stowing her knife and reaching for the girl with fluttering hands.
Trixie dodged her, but didn’t take her eyes away from a fixed point over Mal’s shoulder. Mal glanced behind her to see where Trixie was looking, and realised she was staring in disbelief at Claire, who had a weak smile on her face. She straightened up before looking back at the trembling figure. “It’s fine,” Mal insisted, hearing the impatience and annoyance in her voice.
“It’s not!” Trixie said loudly. Mal winced and hushed her with frantic gestures, looking wildly around them. Trixie quietened down, but she the shock and anger was all the more sharper for it. “She’s a murderer! You’re just letting her escape? Whose side are you on?”
Mal realized she should probably turn and sprint into the gathering darkness and take Claire with her. The longer they loitered outside this door, the greater the chances that someone less forgiving then Trixie would find them. But when she looked at the betrayal and disbelief glowing from Trixie’s emerald eyes, she felt an almost unbearable pressure to make her understand. “She knows where my parents are. I have to,” Mal explained, pleading with Trixie to understand, to trust her more than she deserved.
“You’re going to Akraansir?” asked Trixie, lowering her gaze to the grass so that Mal couldn’t read her expression.
“Yes,” Mal responded, and grabbed Claire’s sleeve. They had to leave now. “Tell the others I’m sorry.”