by Jenny McKane
She ran swiftly to the bookcase, her eyes scanning the titles. Yes. It was still there, where she had seen it. She grabbed it. She opened the book, scanning the pages. Then, she found what she was looking for.
The location of the political prisoner’s camp. There was a brief overview on the page, and a map underneath it with co-ordinates. She had been right. It was in the Far North, but a fair distance from Farric and Stianfjord. It was to the east of the area, closer to where Vyheim Castle was located.
Her heart thumping, she tore the page out of the book, folding it carefully. She put it in her pocket, then quickly replaced the book where it had been. If she managed to get out of here, they would know that she had been here, thanks to the guardian she had to silence, but it might be a while until they discovered the torn page.
Her intention might evade detection and give her enough time for her to get to the camp and free Skyresh.
She turned around, running swiftly back to the staircase.
And that was when she saw him. He was at the top of the staircase, staring down at her.
Everard.
Her heart lurched. What was he doing here? Had he followed her?
She stared up at him, unsure what to do. Anger overwhelmed her. She didn’t want to kill him. He had been her partner. She respected him, even though he was a puppet of the regime. Why did he have to do this?
“Come,” he said, reaching out a hand. “I know another way out of here, but the guardians are coming.”
Her eyes widened. What choice did she have? She took his hand, and he pulled her up the staircase. She stumbled against him. He turned to her.
“Follow me,” he whispered, leading her in the opposite direction to the way that she had come. It was dark, and the corridors narrowed.
“Where are we going?” she whispered.
“There is a way out, through the servants’ quarters,” he said. “It is not as well guarded, and all of the servants will be in their rooms now. It is the safest way.”
He gripped her hand tighter, pulling her along.
“How do you know of it?” she whispered. Her head was reeling. None of this made sense. Why was Everard even here, and how did he know exit and entrance points of the palace? And why was he helping her?
He didn’t answer her question. He simply tugged at her hand urgently.
They wound their way through a labyrinth of corridors. It became darker. Only random torches were lit along here, and she could barely see Everard ahead of her. Eventually, they came into a kitchen, and he led her to a small door next to a window. Avalon could see a small garden outside that was filled with herbs and vegetables.
Everard opened the door, and they crept out into the garden, weaving their way through tall spears of corn and large bushes of rosemary. Avalon could see a gate at the fence line. Her eyes scanned the wall. He was right. There were no guards out here. They obviously didn’t think that guarding the palace vegetable garden was high on their list of priorities.
They ran towards the gate. He opened it, and then they were out of the palace grounds. He kept running, pulling her forward. They made it to the outskirts of Grey Park, and then he collapsed behind a large tree. She fell beside him, her breath rasping in her chest.
She could hear noise in the distance. Guardians shouting to each other. A bell sounded, sharp and metallic.
“They know,” Everard said, panting still. He turned to her, gazing down at her angrily. “What were you doing in there?”
Avalon glared at him. “I didn’t ask you to follow me, Everard. And I didn’t ask you to save me.”
He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “Avalon, I don’t understand,” he whispered. “What happened to you in the Far North? Did Gwalen brainwash you?”
Avalon looked down at the ground. “Don’t speak of him,” she said tightly. “You know nothing of who he is and what he is trying to do.”
“Avalon,” he breathed, taking her hand. “I am only trying to understand. You led him and his people to capture. That was our mission, and you succeeded. You are the most loyal Jarle I have ever met. What changed?”
Avalon slowly turned to him. “My eyes were opened,” she said. “Not at first. At first, I thought it was all just stupid stories, the things he told me. About how this regime is evil. What they have done, especially to the Stromel.” She took a deep breath. “But then, I saw it. I saw one of the camps.”
Everard was silent for a minute. “You are telling me that you have switched sides? That you are now part of the rebellion?”
She nodded her head. “I need to get going,” she said. “I have what I came for, and I cannot delay.” She stood up. “They will search the park soon. You should go back to Headquarters, Everard. Pretend that this never happened.” She laughed. “Pretend that you never met me.”
He stood up. “Avalon, you know that I cannot do that,” he said.
Suddenly, guardians were upon them. Avalon turned to run, but one pinned her to the ground with his sword. She couldn’t move.
She watched one of them walk up to Everard.
“Well done, Guardian Varr,” he said. “That played out exactly as you predicted.”
Avalon stared at Everard, tears filling her eyes.
He hadn’t come to help her.
He had come to betray her.
Chapter Fifteen
Avalon stared down at her hands, blinking. Her fingernails were torn and bloodied. She could feel a dull throbbing in her legs, just above her calves. They had hit them repeatedly with a stick until she had fallen to the ground, unable to rise.
She barely remembered the journey. She hadn’t bothered looking at the landscape. It had seemed like no time had passed at all. One moment, she was being interrogated in the palace, and the next, she was here. Wherever here was. All that she could feel was that low, burning hatred, deep in her breast. Hatred for them. All of them, but especially hatred for Everard.
Now she was on the ground where she had fallen after they had beaten her. It was outside in a small quadrangle, which was overgrown with brambles. The brambles pierced her skin, but she barely felt them. High stone walls surrounded her. She was alone.
Before they left her, a guardian had walked up to her. “Think very carefully,” he had whispered in her ear, where she lay. “Atonement is your goal.” Then, he had walked away. The gate had made a loud screeching sound as he swung it closed.
She blinked, again. All was lost. She had been so close to getting away. If only she hadn’t made the decision to trust Everard. She should have killed him, as soon as she saw his face looming above her on the staircase. She knew that he wasn’t on her side, deep down. And yet, hope had surged within her when he had told her to follow him. She had little choice, other than killing him, in that moment – but still. She had started to believe that he really had come to help her.
She knew that he was as brainwashed as she had been, but she also knew that underneath that he was a good person. She had respected him. She remembered when he had challenged her on her beliefs about the Stromel. He was the first who had told her that they were as intelligent as the Jarle and not to blindly believe everything the Grey Book said. She recalled when he had thrown coins to the begging children in the settlement when they had been travelling to the Far North.
And he had told her that he loved her. And yet, he had calmly betrayed her, as if it meant nothing to him at all. It was all in a day’s work to him.
He had stood there in the interrogation room at the palace. He had watched them throw her to the ground and hit her. He hadn’t even flinched. And that was when she seized her moment, flying at him, clawing at his face until she drew blood. Two guardians had to drag her off him. He had looked stunned, blood trickling down his face.
They had beaten her again for that, but it had been worth it.
He left the room after that. She hadn’t seen him again. She hoped that he would carry the scars from her attack on his face forever. She hoped that e
very time he looked in the mirror, he would see them and remember what he had done. But she knew there was little hope of that. His wounds would heal and fade. He would go on with his life, climbing the ladder, working his way up to the post of Commander. Perhaps one day he would even be a Minister. She would barely register as a footnote in his life.
Perhaps it had been jealousy of her that had spurred him on to do it. She had taken all the glory for their mission; she had even been honored with a ceremony. She had met Agnor. How that must have frustrated him, given how ambitious he was. He must have wished that it was him on that stage, instead of her.
For he could have just informed the guardians that she was in the palace and let them take her. He didn’t have to go through that elaborate role play of pretending that he come to aid her. He had done it for one reason: so that he would be commended for it. He would be forever known as the guardian who had stopped the traitor. Who knew? Perhaps they would give him a ceremony of his own.
She closed her eyes, resting her head on the ground, shivering. Snowflakes fell on her face, but she didn’t bother wiping them away. Were they intending to leave her out here all night? Perhaps she would freeze to death, and they would silently dig a grave and throw her body in it. No questions. She knew that her parents – or the people who had claimed to be her parents – would let her rot here. They wouldn’t be advocating for her, insisting on a fair trial. They would wash their hands of her. Her bad blood had finally come out.
Just before she had left the palace, Agnor had come. He had stared at her, his grey eyes as cold as ice.
“Well,” he had said. “The hero becomes the traitor. You gave yourself away, Guardian Lund. Too many questions.” He paused. “Enjoy your time at the Re-Education Center. They do say that it is…an eye opener.”
He had walked away, his dark velvet cloak trailing in the snow.
Avalon’s teeth started chattering violently. They had stripped her when she got here and put a thin grey robe on her. They hadn’t given her a cloak, or a blanket. They had even taken her boots off her so that her feet were exposed to the cold. She curled up in a ball, desperately trying to warm herself. She stared at the wall opposite her. Was that a banner, waving in the wind way above? She squinted, trying to see it through the snowflakes swirling around her.
Atonement is the Way.
Avalon scoffed. Atonement. She had nothing to atone for, not to them anyway. The only thing that she had to atone for was her part in the capture of Skyresh and his people.
She squeezed her eyes closed, trying not to let despair overtake her. He might already be dead. She had failed him.
***
Everard walked out of the palace, barely able to stand. He was so weary, he didn’t know how he was going to be able to ride all the way back to Headquarters on the opposite side of the city. And yet, he had to. Commander Vasslo was waiting for him.
He mounted the horse, spurring it out onto the road. He felt numb; his heart could barely beat. Even now, he could not believe the events of the night. And he couldn’t get the vision of Avalon’s face out of his mind, the moment when she had turned to him, knowing that he had betrayed her.
He spurred the horse on, wrapping his cloak tighter. It had turned colder. Where had they taken her? They had refused to tell him. “She is going to a place where she will atone,” was all that one guardian would say. Everard had felt cold shivers go through him at the words.
She had never had a chance. They had been watching her since she had returned from capture. When Commander Vasslo had sent for him to inform him of his next mission, he had told him that, straightaway.
He hadn’t believed it at first, sitting across from the commander. He had even been angry on her behalf. “You are telling me that you think Avalon has been corrupted?” he had said. “There is simply no way that is possible! She is fiercely loyal to the realm.”
Commander Vasslo had sighed. “I didn’t believe it either at first,” he said. “And it still might be that we are mistaken, and she is merely exhausted from her mission.” He paused. “But she did something when she was still at the safe house in Stianfjord, which made the commander there suspicious.”
“What did she do?” he asked. He had felt his heart sinking lower with every word.
“She asked to speak to Gwalen alone before she left,” he said. “She claimed that she wished to find out what happened to you – that they had never told her. And yet, the commander knew that they had, indeed, told her. The woman rebel had informed them that they did not know of your whereabouts, and that Guardian Lund had been told, too.”
Everard had frowned. “That means nothing,” he said. “She might have thought they were lying to her—and she just wanted to try for a final time to get information.”
“Indeed,” said the commander. “That could be the case, but the commander there didn’t think so. He said she seemed desperate to talk to him. He observed them speaking at the door. While he couldn’t hear what they were saying, he noted that Guardian Lund was placatory with him, even reaching out to him. They seemed to have a relationship.”
Everard had shaken his head. “I still do not believe it,” he said. “I know Avalon. She would never betray the realm. Why would she have gone to all the trouble to lead them into capture? She knew what would happen to them.”
“No one is accusing her,” the commander said. He took a deep breath. “Yet.”
Everard sat back in his seat, his heart beating uncomfortably. “What is it you want me to do?”
The commander sighed. “Your mission is to try to find out,” he said. “You know her well, as you said, Guardian Varr. You were partners. I want you to speak to her and find out how she is thinking. Is she as loyal as she was? Does she talk of the time she was captured? And when you are not with her, I want you to watch her. Where she goes, what she does.”
Everard had closed his eyes. “You want me to inform on her.”
“Yes,” the commander said. “I understand that this is conflicting for you. Even though you seemed to dislike each other at the Academy, I know that you now respect and admire her greatly. You have worked together closely under difficult conditions. She was your partner.” He stopped, leaning forward in his chair, staring at Everard. “But your work is greater than that. Your loyalty to the realm and to our great leader must transcend your personal feelings.”
Everard had nodded slowly. “I understand.” He had stood up. “I will do as you ask. For the realm.”
“Thank you,” said the commander. “I hope that we are mistaken too, Guardian. Avalon Lund is an exceptional young woman, who could go far in the service of the realm. I personally like her, but anyone can be corrupted. Never forget that.”
The commander’s last words echoed in his mind, as Everard turned the horse left, down another road. Anyone can be corrupted. It turned out that he was right. Avalon had been corrupted; she had turned traitor. He knew now what she had been seeking in the Control Room. They had found a torn piece of paper in her pocket. It had detailed where the political prisoner’s camp was located. The place where Gwalen and his people had been sent.
His hands tightened on the reins. How was it possible? What had this…Gwalen done to her? To make a loyal and fierce warrior of the realm doubt herself. He thought of what the commander had said, about how they “seemed to have a relationship.” What kind of relationship?
He would attend Gwalen’s execution, he resolved. He would ride through a blizzard to watch him die for what he had done to her. Everard had known that she was changed, that her passion seemed to have left her. He knew now that it was Gwalen who had taken that passion away.
Yet, even now, guilt corroded his soul. He had betrayed the woman that he loved. He knew that he had done it for the right reasons. He knew that if she was in her right mind, that she would thank him for it, but it didn’t change how he felt. He didn’t know what was going to happen to her. He had been told that she was going to a Re-Education Center, of whic
h he knew nothing. Would they try to get her to recant, and then kill her?
He remembered her words, just before the guardians had come: My eyes were opened. And further: But then, I saw it. I saw one of the camps.
What had she seen?
Everard sighed. He would never know now. She was gone, and he had been the one who had handed her to them. He had done his duty. He should be feeling proud. The commander would congratulate him, he knew.
Everard hung his head, letting the horse lead. He could barely work out where he was going. He simply didn’t know what the way forward was—not anymore.
***
Avalon walked into the small room. A middle-aged woman sat at a table, her hands folded in front of her. She wore a plain grey gown, and her black hair was scraped off her face into a tight bun. She smiled at Avalon, indicating the chair opposite her.
Avalon sat down, slowly.
The woman opened a satchel, taking out a piece of paper. She scanned it quickly, then placed it on the table in front of her.
“Guardian Avalon Lund,” the woman said, gazing at her. “Twenty years old. The daughter of the Minster of the Military, no less. An excellent Grey Guard, who was taken out of her class at the Academy and sent on a mission even before completing her training. Do I have the details correct?”
Avalon nodded, glaring at the woman.
The woman smiled again. “Let me introduce myself,” she said. “I have been assigned as your teacher, here. My name is Gaia. You may call me Teacher Gaia.”
“My teacher?” said Avalon. “What are you going to teach me?”
The woman looked surprised. “I am going to teach you everything,” she answered, mildly. “Everything that you seem to have forgotten, Avalon. You seem to have lost your way, and it is my duty and privilege to get you back on the track. Our aim is atonement, for your treachery against the realm.”
Avalon said nothing. She gazed past the woman, refusing to make eye contact.
The woman sighed. “You are lucky,” she said. “Only a few are chosen to come to the Re-Education Center. Only the ones that the realm has decided are worth re-educating. Most are simply executed, and I must tell you, Avalon, that the possibility of that still exists, if you do not comply.”