The Caste Marked

by Mariah Esterly

  Silence greeted his question. Serra’s fingers tightened around Reks' and she felt tears well up in her eyes, and spill over her bottom lashes. They had cut his wings off. He had been twelve and they had cut his wings off. Now, she knew what the scars were that she had seen that night and why he had been so upset about her having seen them.

  Reks took a deep breath before continuing. “Almost as soon as they had clipped my wings they threw me out of Brencis. Without medical attention, I could hardly walk. After three days of struggling south through the mountains I was so weak I couldn’t move. I just lay on the ground certain I was going to die. That is when the arvels came upon me. Many of them wanted to do away with me, but Ramla the Huntress, the mate of the first arvel, took pity on me, spurred on by her daughter Resi. Ramla told the others that the way the sylphs had treated one of their own was a sign of how unworthy they were to be the dominant species in the mountains. With that simple comment, she had turned me into a symbol of their battle between them and the sylphs. Resi cared for me, made certain I would live. And when I was well enough she urged me to leave the mountains and never return. It seems that while I had been healing the General had been thinking about his decision and changed his mind. He needed to make certain I was dead. For nine years I dodged them, only to return on my own.”

  Serra was speechless. Tears leaked from her eyes and down her cheeks. Had she known what Reks was risking in coming here she would never have allowed it. She leaned her head against his shoulder, offering what little comfort she could.

  “Why didn’t you tell us this sooner?” Sylvan asked.

  Serra looked at Reks anxious to hear his response to the question that she couldn’t bring herself to ask.

  “What’s going on right now in Iperia is far more important than the General’s madness.”

  “But you could have stayed behind in Carpius. We would have been fine.” Rian said. “In fact, we might have been in better shape.”

  “Rian!” Sylvan scolded.

  “In case you failed to notice, we are in prison, Sylvan.”

  Serra could feel the beginnings of an argument starting next door.

  “He’s right.” Reks quiet voice broke through the bickering. “If I had not come you would have most likely not ended up in jail. You would have ended up dead. The General doesn’t like visitors.” He turned his head and locked eyes with Serra. “I couldn’t take the risk with your lives while I stayed safely behind.” He released Serra’s hand and began pacing around the cell. “I’ll do the best I can to convince the General that our reason for coming here is completely tied to the kidnappings and the mage.”

  He went on in this vein for a while, muttering to himself the arguments he would use. Serra sank down to the ground, cradling her arm and watched his progress. A conversation started up in the cell next to theirs, but she could not make out the words.

  Serra thought over everything that Reks had said. The idea that someone could cripple a twelve year old boy was horrifying. She shuddered to think of what this General might do the Reks now, even though there was very little hope of Reks raising a rebellion against him.

  “Reks?” she said suddenly. He stopped in his pacing and looked at her. “Whatever happened to your sister?”

  Reks' fist clenched. “She’s still here.”

  Serra opened her mouth to answer but instead scrambled to her feet as the door at the end of the corridor opened and the blond Sylph that had greeted them on their arrival stepped through the portal. He stood outside the door of Reks and Serra’s cell, glaring at them.

  Instinctively, Serra drew back, hating herself as she did it, but unable to stop.

  Reks moved in front of her and addressed the Sylph. “Well, what is it to be Henrick? Has the General given the execution order or is he at least willing to talk?”

  Henrick ignored him, his eyes focused on Serra. “Isn’t that sweet? The little human is looking toward you to protect her. Does she know how very little your protection will help?”

  “Leave her out of this Henrick. We are here to see Alida. There have been kidnappings in Iperia that could have only been a very powerful mage.”

  Henrick’s mouth twisted. “And you think Alida is responsible? How would little Alida feel if she knew that her once protector now accuses her of such a horrific crime? Pathetic.”

  Serra stepped from behind Reks. Anger had outweighed her fear. “How dare you! Reks has been trying to help people. What have you been doing you worthless piece of sh-”

  “Such language.” He cut her off. “And such loyalty for someone who is so far below you.”

  “Below me? Below me!” Serra started rage roaring through her.

  “Serra,” Reks said, quietly. She looked sideways at him. He shook his head slightly and Serra forced herself to take a calming breath.

  “The General is too busy to talk to you today.” Henrick said, examining his fingernails. “Perhaps tomorrow.”

  He left and silence fell over the cells until farther down the hall a voice said, “is that really you, Reks? Reks Kiritan? Son of General Kiritan?” Reks didn’t answer. Instead he craned his neck to try to see the speaker.

  “It’s Mikhail Leith.”

  Recognition dawned on Reks' face. “Lieutenant Leith?”

  “Just Mikhail now. The General stripped me of my rank soon after your banishment. I did not agree with some of the choices he made for our people.” He was silent for a moment before continuing. “I cannot believe that you came back here. The General will not let you live.”

  Serra closed her eyes upon hearing this, pain stabbing at her heart. Reks could be taken from her. She would never see his face again. As if unable to support her, her legs buckled and she sank to the floor again.

  Reks followed her down, saw she had sat without further injuring herself and stood again to speak through the stone bars. “How long have you been here?”

  “I lost track long ago. It doesn’t really matter now. What does matter is getting you and your companions out of here before the General kills all of you.”

  “That will not happen.” Reks’ voice held steel.

  “Do you have any ideas?” asked Vaughn.

  “Well, I’ve been working on a few.”

  Serra listened as he listed them not really hearing what was said. Never in all the months that she had been searching for the culprit of the kidnappings had she felt so helpless as she did sitting on the floor of the cell listening to plans of escape and knowing that none of them would work. The bars of stone were far too thick and solid, they would not be able to break them. Henrick would not be overcome when he came to fetch Reks for his conversation with the General the following day. And there was little hope of a rescue.

  Suddenly, Serra looked up. “I can do it.”

  No one seemed to have heard her. She stood up again. “I can shift. Get out, find where the mage is, get the key and release you all.”

  “No.” Reks said flatly.

  Serra bristled, but was stopped from answering when Mikhail said, “You’re a shifter?”

  “Yes.”

  “But,” Reks cut in. “She has a broken arm which will hamper her shifting and her movement.”

  “It doesn’t matter, Reks. It’s our only hope.” Serra hated the pleading note in her voice.

  “I agree with Reks.” Sylvan said. “There is another way for us to get out of here. There must be. We all agreed that you would not use your power anymore.”

  “You don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself.” Rian added. “We still don’t know who is behind the kidnappings. If anyone finds out that you are a shifter you could be taken and we would be powerless to stop it.”

  “Vaughn?” Serra asked, wanting his opinion. “What do you think?”

  “Serra, you know that I think you’re a competent fighter and I have no doubt that you would be able to do everything in your plan. But I can’t condone you taking unnecessary risks with your life.”

  Fi
ghting tears of frustration Serra moved to the corner of the cell and sank down again, refusing to talk to them anymore. She knew it was childish, but if she continued as part of the conversation she would explode at them and that would be no help to anyone.

  She was unsure of how long they talked for, trying her best to block out their conversation. Everyone was so set on making decisions for her. All of them, so eager to protect her, seemed to have conveniently forgotten Mistress Vaneza’s statement that Serra was now the most powerful mage in existence. If she was the most powerful mage in existence it was time for her to make her own decisions. Blocking the sound of their voices from her mind, Serra began to make her own plan.

  After a time, the conversation stopped and Reks joined Serra at the back of their cell. She was curled in on herself, trying to stay warm as the temperature in the cave-like cells dropped with the setting of the sun outside.

  Without asking for permission Reks slid an arm around Serra’s shoulders and pulled her onto his lap. At first Serra resisted the gentle pressure from his arm, but as the warmth from his body began to permeate hers, she leaned into him letting her head rest on his shoulder. His hand stroked up and down her back, his lips lingering on her forehead, her temple. Serra lifted her face and pressed a kiss along the underside of his jaw, the beard he’d acquired during their journey through the mountains rough against her lips.

  She could hear his heartbeat through the fabric of his coat, feel his warm breath on her cheek.

  “Reks?” she said softly.

  “Hmm?” he sounded as though he were almost asleep.

  “I don’t want to die.”

  His arms tightened around her and he bent his head to brush a kiss across her lips. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

  They were silent. Serra waited until she was sure Reks was asleep before saying his name again. He only muttered something and shifted slightly, his arms becoming slack as he fell deeper into sleep.

  After carefully disentangling herself from his arms Serra stood and quickly undressed until she stood shivering in her under clothes. She draped her coat over Reks to give him a bit more warmth.

  The shift was made difficult by her injured arm, but Serra managed. Moments later she struggled free of the fabric of her remaining articles of clothing. In her shift she had been careful to fix her broken wrist. She knew she would pay the price when she shifted back to her human form, but it would be easier for her to travel if she was uninjured.

  She stretched, getting used to her cat body then leapt through the bars of the cell. She turned and regarded Reks where he sat sleeping unaware of what she was about to do and silently apologized for the fear she knew he would feel upon waking and finding her gone.

  She slunk by the door of the cell that held Rian, Sylvan and Vaughn thankful that the bar openings only reached from waist high to the ceilings, as she was certain that Vaughn was awake keeping watch.

  She made her way to the cell that held one of the Sylph prisoners and leapt through into the small enclosure. Hoping she had guessed right she padded to the sleeping Sylph and patted his cheek with her paw. He grumbled and tried to roll over. This action was prevented by the sheer size of his dove grey wings. Serra tried again, this time baring her claws the slightest bit.

  The sylph started awake. Serra sat back and waited for him to realize what had happened, her tail twitching as she did so. If it could have been avoided she would have chosen to leave the dungeons without waking anyone, but she needed information on where the Mage might be, on where the keys for the cells were and where the Sylphs would have placed the items confiscated from prisoners.

  Mikhail blinked down at her. “What? What are you doing here?”

  She hissed at him. Indicating he should keep his voice down and then blinked at him. “You’re the shifter?” he asked in a whisper. She nodded once. “What do you need?”

  She blinked at him again, then moved to the door. She leapt up and batted at the lock, then turned to look at him expectantly. “The keys?” She nodded.

  “There are only two keys to the cells. One is kept by the General on his person. The other is in the guardroom hanging on a hook by the door. But there are always at least five guards in there.”

  “Mikhail?” came Vaughn’s voice from down the corridor. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Myself. When you have been imprisoned for as long as I have, at times you are your only comfort. Now leave me be.” He bent closer to Serra, and lowered his voice even more. “Alida is somewhere above us. I do not know where. I myself have not seen her since she was discovered to be a mage.”

  Footsteps outside the door drew their attention. ”You had better go.” Serra nodded and exited the cell, landing lightly in the corridor. She trotted down the hall toward the door that would lead to the rest of the keep.

  “Serra!” she heard Vaughn whisper. “Serra, be careful!”

  She turned her head, saw him pressed against the bars and nodded at him once. She didn’t have time for more as at that moment the door opened, admitting a guard, who looked about as interested in checking the cells as he would have been in checking horse stalls for dung. Serra waited until he was halfway down the hall before slipping out the open door. She paused outside trying to recall what she had seen when they had entered the building. Thinking quickly, she shifted again, this time into a grey mouse. The guard who had been sent to check the cells would most likely return to the guard room. She could follow him there and then figure out a way to get the key.

  Their weapons and saddle bags would most likely be in the guardroom as well. If she could figure out where they were then she could lead her friends to them later.

  Serra shrunk against the wall as the guard emerged from the corridor of cells. He closed the door and locked it. Serra’s eyes fell on the keys that dangled from the iron ring that hung on his belt.

  She had not expected that the keys would be so easy to get. As he turned to leave Serra shifted a third time, this time to an Arvel. The guard had no idea what hit him as she leapt on his back knocking him to the ground. Before he could even make a sound his head had hit the hard stone floor and he was still.

  Serra shifted back to her normal form, shivering in her nakedness, and picked up the keys. She unlocked the door that led to the corridor pushed it open and shifted back to her cat form. She picked up the keys in her mouth and carried them through the door, tail held high.

  Vaughn was startled when Serra came soaring through the bars of his cell, and dropped the keys in his lap. She mewed loudly and sparked him into action. “Rian! Sylvan! Get up!” He stood himself and reached through the bars to unlock the cell door.

  Serra trotted out of the cell and led the way to Reks' cell. He sat inside his face white with rage and fear, gripping her clothes. He pinned her with a gaze that cut her right to the core, and said softly, “Do. Not. Ever. Do. That. Again.”

  Serra mewed once and Reks stood, leaving her in the cell to shift and dress. As she did so, Sylvan released the rest of the prisoners and Rian and Vaughn dragged the guard Serra had knocked out into one of the empty cells.

  Serra’s arm throbbed worse than ever and she could tell that any healing that had occurred since the injury had been undone by her use of it, but she didn’t want to take the time to rewrap it. Instead she gathered up the white linen and stuffed it her pocket. She kept her arm close to her side as the group of them stepped from the corridor of cells into the hallway.

  “The Guardroom is this way,” Mikhail said, leading the way down the hall. They crept up a flight of stairs and came to an open door. Vaughn took the lead from here, poking his head quickly around the door jamb. He turned held up six fingers to indicate the number of guards in the room. Everyone nodded.

  Just before they were about to enter, Reks turned to Serra, ice in his eyes. “Keep watch out here.”

  She wanted to argue, but before she could even open her mouth, the rest of them were plunging into the room. Muffled shouts
from the guards reached Serra in the hall, she wanted to see what was going on, but kept her eyes on the ends of the passage, swiveling her head back and forth.

  After a time, her companions emerged from the guardroom, carrying their belongings. Serra saw that Vaughn had shouldered her own saddle bags and tried to take them from him, but he silently refused.

  Mikhail lead the way up another flight of stairs. “I do not know where Alida is being kept,” he said when they had reached the top of the stairs.

  “I do.” Reks said grimly. “She’s in the tower.” He clasped hands with Mikhail. “I don’t expect you to continue on our journey with us. This is where we part.”

  Mikhail nodded. “If need be I will try to draw the guards away from you.”

  “Thank you, old friend.”

  Mikhail left them, turning down a long hallway while Reks lead the rest of them up a flight of stairs. They climbed up and up. Serra listened for the sounds of discovery below them, listened for the angry clash of fighting. But none reached them.

  Finally, they reached the top of the stairs and the door that would lead to Mistress Alida. Serra saw Reks pause before touching the handle and pushing the door open.

  Blue light poured into the stairwell as they stepped into the room.

  In the center of the room was a girl with flowing black hair, surrounded by a shimmering blue glow. She floated on the air, almost as if suspended by ropes, her arms crossed over her chest. Her white wings, stretched to their limit, brushed the walls on either side of her floating body. Her eyes were closed as though she slept. She could not have been older than Serra.

  Reks stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides.

  “Alida?” he said softly. The expectation in his voice cut at Serra. This girl had a special part of Reks that Serra was sure she would never be able to have. What was it that Henrick had called Reks? Alida’s once protector. That was it. What had happened between them to inspire such gentleness in Reks?

  Silence greeted his inquiry. He tried again. “Alida, it’s me, Reks.”

  At this an ethereal voice filled the room. “Reks?” Serra did not recognize the voice and though her mouth had not moved, she knew that the voice belonged to the sylph floating before them.