by Stephen Wolf
She knew pretty well how it felt.
Chapter 24
Escape from Prisoner’s Tower
Mira stood at the end of the room with her rich brown hair billowing out behind her from a breeze that touched her delicately. She reached out her arm as her gown swirled gently around her, cascading in folds of opalescent white.
Gabrion stood at once and walked toward her, and she smiled, turning gracefully around and stepping away, almost hovering. He followed with a childlike smile lighting his face, but she was ever a hallway’s length ahead of him, egging him on. Up and around she went, spiraling into the sky, with Gabrion keeping as close as he could, not letting her leave his sight.
At last, Mira stopped ascending through the air, and instead, her giggling laughter echoed toward him as she approached a watery wall. She stretched her arms wide, passing through the water and becoming a shimmering blur on the other side. Gabrion followed her, passing through the water without being drenched by it. Mira kept walking on, drifting into another chamber, where she stopped for just a moment. While she stood there, Gabrion paused to admire her beauty.
Mira spun delicately, her dress flowing outward in cloud-like spirals, sparkling with each twirl. Then she stopped and laughed, and as Gabrion watched, her deep-blue eyes started to glow. They not only lit within her head, but they cast light outward, and as they did so, one beam of light remained blue while the other turned softly to brown. With a delicate leap, she bounded off again, Gabrion in tow.
Down she went now, spiraling again but floating closer and closer to places he knew. Around and down, with no barriers to impede her. At last she ran straight, and Gabrion doubled his efforts to reach her.
But Mira could not be caught. She entered a deep labyrinth with diamond and sapphire walls gleaming delightfully. She twirled as she went, turning down one passageway and then choosing another. Gabrion kept an easy pace with her now, for he knew this path. He had walked it before. Mira giggled again, her laugh tinkling against the diamonds.
She then spun once and ascended gracefully into the air again, and Gabrion scrambled to follow. The ground was suddenly slippery and hard to climb, but he needed to reach her. She was so close. Up he went, and off she drifted, bobbing and weaving through the room and settling into a doorway at the end. She reached into the room and withdrew a silver tiara, setting it atop her hair before pirouetting and tiptoeing over to another doorway.
Once inside, she lifted a glimmering gray shawl and wrapped it around her neck, and there the color drained down, turning her entire dress into silver white. As Gabrion approached, she smiled and fled toward his right, disappearing at last, and with the light from her eyes gone, the room went slowly dark.
He knew he couldn’t follow her. He could only stare. But this time, something was different. Something happened that snapped him awake from his dream. He had been having it for many nights, and he had traced the same paths over and over until he could recall them during his waking hours. This time was different because as Mira drifted out that last door, she spoke.
“Now, Gabrion,” her ethereal voice had whispered. “Now.”
He sat up from his place in the cell, trembling. The room was dark, as dawn had not yet arrived. Clanging footsteps echoed from the entranceway, which signaled a change in the prisoners. The course of the past two months had been met with occasional changes, where either new prisoners were brought in or others were removed. Once they had taken out a corpse, a man who had fallen victim to the scarred ones, who’d found something offensive in the man. Another time, a prisoner taken away ended up as one of the guards overlooking the work field, and then they realized that some of the prisoners weren’t really under punishment. It was an effective and dangerous way of learning of escape plots, but Cavall had always taken it upon himself to quell any such talk. He seemed to like his domain the way it was.
Each time the guards went by, Gabrion noticed that the one who had taken the ring intended for Mira always wore it around his neck, as if daring Gabrion to try to reclaim it.
“Now, Gabrion,” Mira had said in his dream. “Now.”
While the others slept, Gabrion stepped over to the doorway, standing to one side and tensing in anticipation. Slowly, the door swung open toward his face, and a new body was thrown inside. Gabrion grabbed the door and shoved it forward, knocking the guard to the ground. The new prisoner looked back, seeing the attack, and took full advantage of it. The red-haired youth stole the guard’s sword and charged into the support team behind him, catching them all by surprise, so long had it been since a prisoner had revolted.
Gabrion kicked the fallen guard in the ribs and reclaimed Mira’s ring and the chain from which it hung. He then took a sword from one of the guards the youth had taken down and followed, pummeling into anyone who got in his way.
The red-haired youth said nothing but fought with an unparalleled rage, taking up a second sword at one point and screaming as he continued lashing out at the other guards. He took some hits, but Gabrion couldn’t get close enough to help; the blades were whipped around so frantically. One by one the guards fell until the youth sprinted off, leaving Gabrion behind as if he’d never existed. The warrior wanted to follow, to assist in his escape, but the lure of the dream compelled him to turn and go the other way.
Mira had spiraled up into the air, and he knew he needed to do the same. He found an alternate doorway, and it pressed open to his touch. He held his sword cautiously before him as he entered a quiet hall lined with various alcoves. He peered into them as he went. The ones on his left had windows facing away from the approaching dawn, and the right side held statuary. A doorway opened at the end of the hall, and footsteps rushed inside. Some kind of alarm must have sounded at the outbreak, and Gabrion jumped into an alcove on the right, pressing as far beside the statue as possible, hoping beyond reason that he wouldn’t be seen.
The first few guards were running hard and stepped right past him, but then someone saw him and veered over for the kill. Gabrion leaped out to parry the attack while three others joined the fray. A war hammer swung low to knock Gabrion’s feet from under him, but he jumped over the swing and kicked into the wielder’s chest, sending him sprawling. As he landed, Gabrion ducked low to dodge a sword slash, after which he pivoted around to hack into one of the guardsmen’s legs. It was a minor hit, but it offset the incoming ax. Gabrion rolled head over feet, causing one of the swordsmen to pounce aside, and then he sprang for the doorway at the end of the hall, figuring he might be able to use the threshold as a barrier to keep from being surrounded.
The ploy worked, and he fended off the four guards, until more footsteps thundered behind him as the alarm roused the entire tower. With two guards still fighting strong and at least five more on the way, Gabrion was effectively pinned. He decided it would be best to leap into the two guards and finish them; he could then pivot and use the doorway as a barrier again.
Then help came. Most of the prisoners from Gabrion’s cell had gone down the main corridor, but the three scarred ones had seen the open doorway and turned to head off the other guards. The three of them worked like a symbiotic unit, bending and tumbling over one another as they kicked about and struck the two guards at Gabrion’s front. The scarred ones eyed Gabrion appraisingly, then shoved him aside and raced headlong into the next pursuit of guards.
Shocked, Gabrion didn’t react for a moment. He hadn’t spent much time getting to know the three of them, and their help here was completely unexpected. But then he realized that they weren’t helping him, per se. Whatever their goal was, they were seeking it for themselves; he was just a lucky beneficiary.
Gabrion claimed a second sword from one of the fallen guards, noting that the war hammer and ax were missing. The cries of outrage ahead easily told him where those weapons had ended up. He raced after the scarred ones to offer assistance as they tore through the hallway and fought their way up the s
tairs, weapons whirling with remarkable precision. They looked to Gabrion like a three-headed monster, devouring troops as they went. All he knew about them was what Cavall had told him that first day: they were skilled thieves who had lost some comrades during an attempted heist against Grenthar. Seeing them in action now, he couldn’t imagine how they had been bested.
Along the way, Gabrion dealt with stragglers that had been knocked aside and left unattended. He mostly bashed them with a sword hilt and rendered them unconscious, but a few tried to rise against him, and those he ended up killing. He wanted to grab some of their unneeded armor, but time was precious, and his compulsion to follow Mira’s dream flight propelled him onward.
The trio of thieves became a duo as one of them took an ax to the skull. Gabrion held back as the unholy cries of the other two shook the walls and they shredded the guard who had killed their companion. He met a horrible fate, as they practically turned him inside out in their rage, after which they continued their fast push through the halls until at last finding the place they were seeking.
Gabrion came upon them as one of the scarred ones battered down a door with his war hammer, splintering the wood and causing it to crash inward. The two of them took some form of personal revenge on the inhabitants inside and then sat on the floor, heaving deeply and clutching each other for support. Gabrion didn’t dare disturb them. He wondered if the guards in that room had been responsible for the deaths of their other companions or perhaps had served to alert Grenthar about their infiltration into his compound, which had led to their capture. Whatever the case, it seemed obvious to Gabrion that they were out of the fight. The rest was his to do alone.
He needed to climb, if he was going to follow Mira’s path from his dream, and so he rushed forward to the nearest stairwell and sprinted upward. As his foot touched the landing, he had to quickly drop aside to the floor, for a slew of arrows targeted him instantly. These were the same archers who perched daily around the periphery of the work field. There was a slight delay as the archers reloaded and fired again. Gabrion pressed himself against the wall and then dashed ahead, keeping low. He scooted under most of the arrows, but one caught him deeply in the left shoulder, and another grazed his cheek.
He wouldn’t be stopped. Gabrion pushed ahead, throwing one archer aside into another one, then hacking the bow out of the hands of a third. He couldn’t really use his left arm at the moment, but he made up for it with brutal swipes of the sword in his right hand. It was the one bonus he’d gained working in the field all those weeks. The intensity had built up muscle tone and stamina, as well as a greater tolerance to pain.
The archers were highly skilled with their bows, but only a couple of them knew anything about melee combat. Those who relied solely on ranged attacks went quickly to the ground with each swing of the warrior’s arm. The others deflected attacks with their bows, as they drew short swords or daggers to fend off the rest. But none of them could launch much of an offensive strike during the warrior’s enraged assault. The archers struggled mostly just to survive with all their body parts intact.
Gabrion hurried from the room and propelled himself up the next flight of stairs. The corridor was lined with other prison cells, and here he found numerous women who had certainly had better days. He didn’t think about his actions; he just went over and lifted the bolts from the doors, warning them of the fighting and then hurrying on his way. Disbelief turned into excitement, and the women ran screaming and wailing from their cells, releasing other prisoners Gabrion had missed along the way.
The warrior jogged across to another doorway and up yet again. Traveling the distance in the dreamscape had been much more pleasant, but he kept focused and pushed onward. He knew he was nearing the pinnacle of the journey, but the appearance of more guards delayed him even further.
Gabrion didn’t know why his dream always summoned him to the upper floors, but it did, so he made the same journey. Now, with the appearance of some mages, along with the fighters, he started to understand. Perhaps Dariak and Kitalla had been taken to the tower too. He had lost hope for them long ago, barely even holding onto his wishes to see Mira again until she had started appearing in his dreams. Though part of him honestly believed she was in his dreams because she was already dead, he didn’t dwell on those thoughts when they surfaced. Nor could he dwell on them now.
Shards of ice cut across the room, streaking blue light along their paths. The radiance made him shy away, and the ice spears missed him, shattering on the back wall. When those missed, another set flew forth, this time backed by an additional blast of air power, which gave them better aim and more force. He zigzagged across the room as the fighters readied their weapons to protect the mages while he closed in on them. Another blast of wind lashed out, and this one struck him, making him gasp. It cut like a small knife, and he felt blood trickle down his cheek, matching an earlier wound. One of the mages pelted the ground with chunks of ice, purposely aiming for the floor to make a slick surface for the warrior, and though Gabrion struggled to remain on his feet, he managed it, while swinging his sword and trying to blast back some of the shards of ice.
Just a couple of yards away now, the fighters broke ranks and charged at Gabrion. He sidestepped and parried one sword thrust, turning and crashing his own sword on the man’s back, sending him sprawling onto the icy floor, where he slid away, his armor scraping harshly on the surface. The next guard was not so easily cast aside and swung his flail viciously. Gabrion parried and grabbed the man’s wrist, trying to twist it aside. The guard responded by kicking at the warrior, who fell back in pain. Gabrion hit the ground, then rolled backward onto his feet, bringing his sword around and banging it against the guard’s helmet. With a roar, the guard flung his flail toward Gabrion, who batted it aside with his injured left arm and earned another wound in the process.
With a feral cry, Gabrion charged again but veered aside and lunged for one of the mages, who responded by unleashing another blast of ice darts into Gabrion’s chest. He turned his left side into the attack, letting the bad arm absorb the damage and continuing the spin until he brought his sword deeply into the mage’s chest, killing him instantly.
The other mage whirled his fingers around as the guard ran forward as well. The air around Gabrion’s body condensed and caused him to slow down. It felt like a thick blanket being thrown over him, and all he wanted to do was cut through it, but his sword had no effect. The guard barreling in after Gabrion was caught in the spell, and his attacks struggled to find their mark.
Gabrion threw himself to the ground, finding that the air shield didn’t reach to the floor. Out went his sword. The mage had to step aside, losing his concentration, and down went the spell. The guard reclaimed his normal speed, but he hadn’t bent down with the warrior, and so his body flew forward and crashed into the mage with a yelp.
Scrambling to his feet, Gabrion readied his weapon, but the mage reacted quickly and flung his hands outward, sending fistfuls of sand and dirt at the warrior. As the particles flew through the air, they drew closer together, becoming a wall similar to the one of air cast moments ago. Gabrion could see that this wall wouldn’t just slow him down. He surmised that the added sand and dirt would cause it to drag him down.
He felt a searing pain in his right pocket, where he kept the jade. It was vibrating so fiercely he dropped his sword and grabbed the jade, holding it aloft. He didn’t know what compelled him, but he made a vertical slashing motion with the crystal. He felt a strange pull from within him, and as the sand particles reached him, they fell asunder, ruining the attempted spell.
He had to act quickly though, because the guard was up, flail swinging again. Gabrion dropped to his backside, kicking with one leg and transferring the jade into his left hand, all in one motion. He swiped his sword from the floor and brought it up into the guard’s armor, impaling him in the belly and tossing him aside.
Tired, Gabrion launched his
sword at the mage, cutting deeply into one of the man’s hands, which made the mage cry out more in shock than in pain. A mage’s hands were so important that he immediately fell to his knees and begged for mercy, splaying his arms out wide. Apparently, he would rather chance death than face further injury to his instruments of spellcasting. Having effectively bound Dariak a few times at the start of their journey, Gabrion made short work of securing the mage’s hands and mouth before moving on.
The jade pulsated terribly, and Gabrion feared that it would shatter. His left hand was weak, but he kept the jade there, knowing he needed to keep his right arm ready for attack. Up ahead, a few doors lined the hall, and when he ran past one, the jade sent shocks into his fingers, so he turned back and went through the door.
The next challenge almost startled the determination out of him, for he saw a room of at least twenty mages, cloaked with thick robes and massive hoods. He dove into the room, hitting the ground in another roll to avoid any spells aimed for his heart. Yet as he spun around and came to his feet, he was stunned to see only two mages, who were summoning protection spells about themselves and not thinking offensively at all. A second glance around showed Gabrion that the seven other walls were all made of glass, casting reflections that made it seem like more mages were within, but he didn’t have time to see more than that. The mages finished their initial spells and turned their attentions on the intruder.
“Hands down or you die,” Gabrion warned. When they hesitated, he added, “I made it this far, didn’t I?” The mages exchanged nervous glances, eyeing the blood pouring from his wounds that didn’t seem to affect him at all. As one, they lowered their hands and put their arms out for him to bind them.
Throughout their journey together, Dariak had often commented about the lack of attention people paid to mages and their spell components. Thus Gabrion stripped the cloaks from the mages before tying their hands and mouths. He needed time to figure out the octagonal room, and because he wasn’t running off right away, he had to take the extra measure. Once the mages were tied, he hit them each on the neck and knocked them both out, then slid their bodies in front of the only door.