Ephemeral and Fleeting

by Patricia Reding

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it and shook her head as well as she could while subject to his hold.

  “That’s what I thought.” He released her brusquely, glaring at her. With that, he turned to his men.

  “Scarface, Shadow, and Hatchet,” he glanced at one of his men, then another, and then another, “take ’er,” he said, pointing to the boat in which they’d dropped Mara. “If ya see her comin’ to, Scarface, get somma this down ’er throat.” He handed over a canteen.

  “What is that?” Reigna asked. “Please, don’t hurt her!”

  The man laughed. “It’s just a li’l somethin’ to keep her sleepin’ soundly,” he said. Then, “You, Pretty Boy, and you, Caveman, come with me,” he ordered as he approached the other vessel.

  With that, they were off.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They rode all night. Reigna and Eden fought to stay awake, to see where they were going, but from time to time, sleep overcame them. When dawn arrived, they found that someone had re-tied their hands while they slept, in front of them, rather than behind.

  Two more full days passed as they continued on. Their captors traded off oaring and sleeping, but remained steadily on course. All the while, Mara remained silent and still. From time to time, one of the men dripped water into her mouth, but he did so with little care.

  The dawn of the third day arrived. A cold misty rain filled the air. Gradually, it turned to snow.

  “I have to— You know,” Reigna piped up, directing her comments to Mad Dog. “Nature calls again.”

  He glanced her way, grinning. “I told ya before. There’s nothin’ stoppin’ ya.”

  She grimaced. “But—” She crossed her legs tightly. “Please.”

  “Never mind. We’re almost there. But we’ll not stop a’gin ’til we arrive.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Huh,” he scoffed. “Whaddus it matter?” He looked away. “Silence, now!”

  Wiping an errant tear brusquely on her shoulder, she caught Eden’s eye. Then she glanced up at Fuggy who still flew above them.

  The flit drew closer. When he reached the twins, he landed on Reigna’s shoulder. “Don’t worry now,” he said in his quiet, high-pitched way, “I’ll make sure they don’t see me.”

  “You should go,” Eden whispered. “You need to tell the others what happened.”

  “Not until I know where they’re taking you.”

  “But we need help,” she mumbled.

  “That’s enough!” Mad Dog ordered as he glanced back at the sisters.

  The twins fell silent and remained so, growing increasingly more uncomfortable on the wooden bench upon which they sat, and given the urge each felt to relieve herself.

  Finally, around noon, they stopped.

  Having fallen asleep once again, the sisters both jerked awake.

  Eden turned to the boat in which Mara rode, still unconscious and gagged, just as Scarface reached for her and felt for her pulse. Satisfied, he nodded.

  The men jumped out of the vessels, pulled them up onto the rocky shore to the sounds of rattling rocks beneath them, and then tied them to each of two nearby, tall, cylindrical-shaped rocks.

  “Zarek’s gonna wanna see this! Get word tuh ’im. Now!” Mad Dog ordered Scarface.

  Immediately, the man flew off to follow the order.

  Pretty Boy turned to the twins. “There’s a bit of brush right there,” he said, “where you can do your duty.” He laughed as he approached Reigna and grabbed her arm. He pulled her out of the boat, then handed her off to Caveman’s care. “Need any help?” he mocked her.

  She scowled at him. “I can handle it.”

  Hatchet grabbed Eden’s bound hands and pulled her out of the boat.

  Pretty Boy turned her way. “And you?” he asked, as he drew nearer. “Shall I lend you a hand?” He leaned toward her ear and reached for her thigh. “I could pull your skirts up for y—”

  She spat at him.

  Pulling back, he balled his hand into a fist.

  “Enough!” Mad Dog shouted at him. “Now, git those two over there,” he ordered, nodding toward the brush.

  Caveman and Hatchet led the twins away. Then they stood leering as the sisters squatted.

  Before long, a company of succedunt soldiers arrived, all on horseback. They led along behind them, enough horses for each of Mad Dog, his men, and their captives, to ride. In their midst, rode the emperor, sitting tall in the saddle of his ebony stallion. When he came to a stop, the animal pranced in place, jerked its head up, and snorted.

  As Zarek jumped to the ground, he threw his reins toward the man nearest him. Once done, he gestured toward another who pulled a bundle of black cloth out from his saddlebag before meeting him at his side.

  The two drew near Mara and the twins’ captors.

  The emperor slapped Mad Dog on the back. “Well done,” he said. Then, “Ha ha ha!” he laughed. “Just look who we have here!” He halted before the twins.

  They glared at him.

  “Where will ya keep ’em, master? Sir?” Mad Dog asked.

  “I’ve got just the place in my prison. I’ll keep the twins in one cell,” he said as he looked them over, “while their Oathtaker,” he added, approaching Mara and running his eyes over her unconscious form, “will find her new home in another.” He glanced at the guard. “Is she still alive?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Just passed out.”

  He grinned broadly. Then, “Oh,” he whispered to Mara’s sleeping form, “it’s too bad you aren’t awake to fully appreciate all the fun your good little charges and I might have together.”

  He took up the bundle of black from his guard and threw it at Mad Dog. “Cover them up and get them on those horses.” He pointed at the extra mounts. “Oh, and tie her on,” he added, tipping his head Mara’s way.

  Mad Dog caught the items. He opened them to reveal three black shrouds. He threw one over each of Mara and the twins, and then with the assistance of his men, saddled them up.

  The sisters peeked through the slits in the coverings left for their eyes.

  “Let’s go!” Zarek ordered as he headed back to his stallion.

  His guards opened a way for him and then allowed Mad Dog and his men to lead Mara and the twins through the now blustering snow.

  The utter quiet felt thick, eerie.

  Three block walls, and one with floor-to-ceiling iron bars, surrounded her. Outside them, jammed into the lock, was her Oathtaker’s blade. A single barred window let in cold air and moisture, along with a bit of moonlight.

  Mara pulled at the metal cuff on her wrist that was so tight, it pinched. Attached to it was a chain, which was attached at its other end, to the block wall behind her. Two more similar chains hung down from the ceiling at her side.

  On the floor sat a pitcher, and next to it, a bent and dirty tin cup, and a similarly mutilated and filthy bowl. Around it, a fat roach crawled. Assuming the pitcher held water, and too thirsty to care how rank it might be, she knew she’d have to struggle her way to it—but not just yet. She hadn’t the energy.

  She sat quietly, waiting for her strength to return. She didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious. She only knew that she was thirsty and ravenously hungry—and that her head hurt.

  She wondered where the twins were. If she could get to them, she could magically travel away with them. Thus, she determined, she should free herself and then seek them out.

  Then an idea came to mind. She’d used Spira once to pick a lock. It was when she’d traveled with the infant twins and found an old barn for refuge from a storm. Perhaps with her weapon, she could unlock her chain, and also, the door to her cell. Once done, she could find the twins. Then they’d all escape.

  Too weak at the moment to get up, she determined she’d simply call her weapon to herself. My captors shouldn’t have left my blade within such easy reach. But then, they couldn’t know that my attendant magic powers include the ability to m
ove things.

  She concentrated, willing Spira to come to her.

  Nothing happened.

  Pulling back, she blinked repeatedly, in surprise.

  She tried again, but still, nothing happened. Troubled by the phenomenon, she drew her knees up, and rested in a quasi-fetal position. She had to think.

  Perhaps I could move the lock’s tumblers, magically. Yes . . . that might work.

  Oh, but I can’t concentrate just now. I need a minute . . .

  At that moment, came movement in a back corner under a damp and moldy bed of straw. Then a fat brown rat slunk out from beneath it. The rodent, its nose twitching, stared at her with beady eyes. When she flinched at the sight, it scurried along the edge of the cell toward the barred wall, and then disappeared through it.

  “Blast,” she muttered.

  “Mara?” came a nearby voice.

  “Reigna!” she rustled up, shaking her chain. “It was so quiet here, I assumed I was alone! Oh, I’m so glad to hear you. Are you all right? How is Eden? Have they harmed you at all?” She closed her eyes, dreading the answers to come.

  “We’re both fine,” Eden said. “You?”

  She rubbed the lump on her head. She could feel her swollen eye and assumed it was black and blue. But thank goodness the blow hadn’t caused her to lose her memory again.

  “I’m . . . all right,” she said.

  “You’ve been out for days.”

  “Days?”

  “Yes. It was three full days ago that we were attacked.”

  “Hmmm. No wonder I’m so hungry and thirsty—and weak.”

  “How’s your head?” Eden asked.

  “It hurts, but it’s all right, I guess.” Again, she rubbed the lump on it.

  She scrambled to her feet, stepped nearer the barred door and reached for it, but fell far short of actually touching it.

  “I have a problem here. I’m chained and I can’t reach my door,” she said as she glanced into the pitcher of water, noticing in the scant light, an oily layer on its surface. She swallowed hard. Then, “Do you know who did this?” she asked as she filled her cup from it and then drank. Still shaking, some of the water ran out from the corners of her mouth and down her frontside.

  “Zarek’s men.”

  “Oh, no. So then . . . where are we?”

  “In a prison in Chiran.”

  “I’m so sorry, girls.” She groaned.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Reigna said. “We all thought we should see things at the border for ourselves. Besides, you could just travel magically outside your cell. Right? Then you could come over here for us.”

  “Yes, of course. I’m not thinking clearly yet, I guess.”

  Mara closed her eyes, seeking the magic stream that allowed her to travel. She’d always found it before in various colors, but this time . . . there were none. She tried again. Still, she couldn’t seem to connect to the stream.

  She opened her eyes. On sight of Spira, she willed her weapon, once again, to come to her. But as before, nothing happened.

  “I’ve got another problem here.”

  “What’s that?” Eden asked.

  “My attendant magic isn’t working right. I can’t travel—and my blade is stuck in the lock to my cell, but when I try to call it to myself magically, it won’t come. I had thought I might use it to release the chain, free myself, and then unlock my door, but . . .” Then, as an afterthought she asked, “Are you chained?”

  “No, thank Ehyeh.”

  “What’s your chain connected to?” Reigna asked.

  She looked behind. “A block wall.” She touched it and, concentrating, peered into it with her attendant magic. “From what I can tell, its shaft is a part of the wall itself—almost as though they grew together.” She sighed. “Of course that’s impossible, but at a minimum, it runs deep. I see no way to loosen it.”

  “What about the links? Can you break them apart?”

  Mara concentrated, but they remained fast. Then she lit a flare and examined it. “No. The links are forged together, leaving no gaps between them. There’s nothing to try to pry open.”

  She closed her fist on her flare. On re-opening it, she expected to find a crystal in her palm—but there wasn’t one. “Huh,” she muttered.

  “What?” Eden asked.

  “I made a flare, but when I closed my hand on it, it didn’t turn into a crystal.”

  “Try again.”

  She did. Again, nothing happened. “No. Nothing.”

  A long quiet minute passed.

  “Why do you suppose those men didn’t just kill us right off?” Eden asked, a cry in her voice.

  Mara hung her head. “I don’t know, but . . . you know, each moment alive offers some hope.” She paused, contemplating. “Do you remember my telling you how things went with Lilith all those years ago? She refused to quit before she’d stretched things out to get the very most that she could. The time she took to do that turned out to be time on our side. Maybe Zarek will make the same mistake.”

  The twins said nothing.

  “Truthfully, girls, it’s interesting how often the force of evil does that. Waits too long, I mean. I guess that’s because it’s never satisfied.” When the girls said nothing, she continued. “Zarek should have ordered his men to kill us—or at least me—right off. I can’t imagine what he wants with—”

  “We met Zarek when we arrived,” Eden interrupted.

  “What?”

  “Yes, and as you know, he has the great sword. Imagine if he’d used it against us. Still, he didn’t. Why not, do you suppose?”

  Mara sighed. “I don’t know. Anyway, we’ll figure something out,” she said, as much to encourage the twins as herself. Then, “Ahhh, it’s rank in here,” she muttered.

  She looked behind her where a chamber pot sat. By the smell of things, it wasn’t empty. She wiped at her nose, but couldn’t clear her nostrils of the stink of it. She drew the back of her hand to her mouth, fighting back a gag reflex.

  They all sat quietly for a time.

  “At least we have Fugacious,” Reigna finally said.

  “He’s here?”

  “No. I tried to get him to set off for help right away when we were captured, but he insisted he needed to know where the men took us before he’d do that. When we arrived here, he finally flew off.”

  “When was that?”

  “Earlier today.”

  Mara dropped to her haunches, rattling her chain. “I hope Dixon and the others don’t come for us. Imagine if they were captured, as well.” She rubbed her face with her hands, thinking. Her eye hurt. “We’ll get out of this . . . somehow.” Glancing down, she added, “They took everything from my belt. My extra knives, my crystals—”

  “Ours, too,” Reigna said.

  Then Mara noticed her backpack on the floor nearby. “But they didn’t take my bag. Do you still have your packs?”

  “Yes,” Eden said.

  “Is there anything in them that we could put to use?”

  “Not much,” Reigna said. “We’ve got mother’s cape, which is good, since it’s cold in here. We’re wrapped up together in it now.”

  “Anything else?”

  “I’ll look.”

  “Oh!” Mara cried as she dropped her hand in her pocket. “They didn’t take the compact either! It’s here in my pocket. I can get word to the others. Fuggy can tell them our location when he gets back to the City of Light—but in the meantime, I can at least let them know what happened. Maybe they’ll have some ideas for us.”

  “Do it,” Eden said.

  Mara opened the compact. “Lucy,” she whispered, hoping her friend would feel its vibrations on the other end and answer her. “Lucy!”

  When no response came, she left a message that her friend would retrieve later. “Some of Zarek’s men captured us immediately upon our arrival. It was almost as though they knew we were coming . . . But that’s not possible. Is it? More likely, they simply recognized the twins
as those Zarek has pursued all these years. Don’t you think?”

  She fought back tears. “In any case, our captors stripped us of all of our weapons, including our crystals, and brought us here—to a prison in Chiran. For some reason, my attendant magic isn’t working right. I can’t call things to myself magically, travel, or make more crystals. Anyway, Fuggy is on his way back to you to let you know where we are. But don’t come for us. It’s too dangerous. We’ll get out . . . somehow.”

  She closed the compact, then scooted closer to the wall. There she sat, leaning against it. She let her head fall back.

  “Mara?”

  “Yes, Reigna,” she said.

  “I’m afraid.”

  “Me too,” Eden said.

  Mara closed her eyes, willing herself to sound brave. “I know, but you’re not to loose faith.” She stifled a cry. “We’re still alive. That has to count for something.” When they said nothing, she said, “You should get some sleep.”

  “Can’t,” Reigna said.

  “Do you remember what I used to do when you were little girls and you couldn’t sleep?”

  The twins said nothing.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes,” Eden said.

  “Well then,” Mara said, “let’s give it a try.

  She thought about the tune of an old lullaby she’d sung to the girls the day they were born to get them to rest comfortably. It was the same one that had revealed her attendant magic that allowed for her to sing someone to sleep quickly and peacefully. It was the same one she’d sung to Dixon back when she’d rescued him from Lilith’s grasp, so that he could sleep his way to healing.

  And so, she began. “Hush, hush, close your eyes . . .” The words, tripping from her lips, brought back memories, both peaceful, and not so much.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Zarek, attended to by a succedunt soldier at each side, marched down the hall. The heels of the men’s boots click-clacking on the floor, announced their presence. Behind them came another man leading a chained grut, its foul odor filling the air. Turning a corner, they all entered Broden’s prison office.