by K. F. Ridley
“Hurry up in there!” Helga, or whatever her name is, bangs on the door while yelling at me.
“I’ll only be a minute. I’m washing up.” I stall for time. I find a long, slender piece of stone on the floor. I shove it in the latch preventing the door from opening. The window is my only chance for an escape. The hammering at the door grows louder as my guard tries to get inside. I climb on the back of the toilet seat and reach for the window latch. There aren’t any bars keeping me in. I don’t think they have prisoners often. Maybe, I’m the only one they’ve ever had.
“Open this door!” A man’s dark voice insists. I unlock the window and try to pull myself out.
“Kick the door in!” someone yells. Pounding rings through the planks of the wooden door.
I grab the outside window’s rim and feel the flesh of my palms tear from a razor sharp edge. Black thorns surround the edge of the window’s seal. Yeah, they’ve had prisoners here before and this is how they keep them. Blood streams down my forearms dripping in my face. Pain sears through my hands. Splinters of wood bounce off the door as pounding rattles the room.
My heart sinks when I hear Straif’s voice. “Stand back, incompetent fools.” And the door blasts open.
Rowen
I was stronger than that, or at least I thought I was. Her kiss was more powerful than any force I’ve ever encountered. Stronger than any energy I’ve ever defeated, but more wonderful than anything I’ve ever wanted. Yes, I failed, but I don’t care. I want her. I want all of her.
As I enter the tent my heart breaks. They took her during the night through a fresh slit in the back of the hut. I fall to my knees on the ruffled mat and notice the tracks in the dirt floor. She was dragged out of here. Thoughts of what her condition might be puts a fear in me I don’t recognize. Until now, I haven’t known how it feels to lose. There’s an emptiness inside me; death in the living.
I ’ve got to get her back, but I can’t do it alone. By now, the others know. Alder, Ruis, and Coll are probably headed here and I’m sure Coll is happy I’ve failed. He has to be relishing in the fact he was probably right; only if I hadn’t given in to my heart.
The sound of horse ’s wings announces my brethren’s arrival and I’ll have to explain myself. The ground trembles as they land.
“What’s happened that we’ve been summoned?” Alder asks.
“They’ve taken her.”
“What? How could you let this happen? I knew it should have been me!” Coll yells.
Coll is in disbelief, but underneath his tone is a secret pleasure. He wants to be in my place so badly, but he has no idea where my heart is.
“I let her sleep in privacy. I left her alone during the night and The Thorn captured her. I never heard them.” Ruis, the youngest of our group remains silent.
“Come, Rowen, we’ll return to Congramaid to prepare. We will get her back,” Alder instructs. Our brotherhood is known for its strength. Alder doesn’t scold or reprimand. “We have to focus our energy on getting her back. We keep the news to ourselves to prevent terror among the people. If those of Durt find out Ashe is in the hands of The Thorn, fear and panic will overcome. Our job is to keep the peace.”
I fly with Alder on his palomino, who is a tamer sort. Each sentry is assigned his own horse when he passes through Congramaid. When riding another sentry’s horse, one has to be respectful. Otherwise, the results can be tragic.
We head to Congramaid, the training center for sentries and their horses. Although it’s good to see home, I need to be with Ashe.
I can’t bear to think of someone harming her. A surge of fury builds up in me. I know Straif won’t kill her now. It’s not yet time, but I’m not sure what he’ll put her through while waiting for his indulgence.
I let her down. I promised her I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I remember when I was sent to Congramaid, taken from family, my parents. Emptiness filled me then. I felt so alone. So without. That’s how I feel now.
Caring for a female is against everything I’ve ever been taught. I was taught to love, but not to fall in love. That’s like breathing without air; like eating without taste, living without life. I never realized how empty my life was until I met Ashe. Now, she’s invaded my soul there’s no turning back.
As we fly over Congramaid, younger sentries train in the fields. They look up at us and wave toward the sky. Being a sentry is more than a job. It’s a life of sacrifice, celibacy, and commitment to rules. These boys look up to us. A sickness invades my stomach because I’m living a lie, a disappointment to those who appointed me and what’s worse—I don’t care.
Alder and Ruis load their gear. Saille, the stable master, brushes Ruamna down for me. She’s a deep red sorrel, almost a chestnut about seventy-five years old, not quite full grown. That horse knows me better than I know myself. Her back is the safest
Dirt
place in the world; at least it is for me.
Coll struts up, his head held high with shoulders back to exaggeration. He gives me the silent treatment and the creases in the corner of his eyes reveal agitation. I can’t really blame him.
His black stallion stomps in place unable to stand still. His personality is a lot like his rider’s, edgy, hyper, and constantly moving. Coll is never able to relax. He’s always close to combustion, but that’s what makes him Coll. Some might call him passionate. I call him annoying. Nevertheless, we’re a part of the same brotherhood, and no matter what, we’ll be there for one another through thick or thin, life or death, right or wrong. That doesn’t mean we have to agree on everything. When it comes to Coll and me, there’s no agreement on anything.
“ I hope you know what we are up against, my brothers. This is not going to be easy and we have no choice but to be successful,” Alder says.
Our leader is the tallest of our brethren. He ’s slow to anger. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him excited. He deals with whatever problem, whatever dilemma we encounter with calm and decisiveness.
“ When we get to the caverns we’ll split up in twos. I assume that’s where they’ve taken her. They wouldn’t risk moving her at a time like this.” Alder speaks of her matter-of-factly. “Are you all right, Rowen?”
I guess my feelings are starting to show on my face. Alder trained with us and he’s in charge for a reason. His instincts are beyond anything I’ve ever seen. He has the gift of reading another’s feelings, but he can’t decipher the feelings I have now. He has never known love. At least, I don’t think he has. That has to be a difficult thing to live with—always knowing how someone else feels and having to separate from it.
“ Yeah, I’m all right.” Coll stares me down as I lie; another thing I took an oath not to do. He knows I’m hiding something. Does love write itself on your face? Can everyone tell by looking at me? Iknow I’ll be discovered sooner or later.
We fly for a couple of hours when we meet the peaks of the Li Sula Mountains. Hiding beneath them are the Conal Cuan Caverns. We land in a valley south of the mountain range.
There are several ways to get into Straif’s underworld of caves that tunnel for miles underground.
“ Rowen and Coll, you go through the east entrance and we’ll go west,” Alder says. Ruis is young and his powers have not yet fully molded, so Alder keeps him in sight. All faeries have powers or gifts as some call them. But our abilities are ones that originate from our spirit not from physicality.
“ Follow me,” Coll blurts taking over. I don’t argue; it’s not worth it. All Coll knows is what I’ve known; a mission and the Code of Sentries. No one has ever broken the code so, the consequences of my feelings are on untested ground. I hope Ashe is not paying the price for my weakness.
I follow behind my agitated brother, both of us with swords in hands. I will have her in my arms again. I have to.
Ashe
My hands are swollen, red and burning with pain. Infection appears to be setting in. My female security guard roughed me up pretty bad after I
tried to escape and now Straif places Phagos and Duir at my door. I’m out of ideas. Maybe dying is the best thing after all. I think of Dad and how he has always been there for me and how I’ve always been there for him. Every art contest, every skinned knee. What will he do without me? How will he make it
Thoughts of him without me race through my mind. He ’s already lost Nuin. If something happens to me that will be the end of him. Then I think of Rowen, the only thing finally right in my life. I found what I want and whom I want. I’m not going to give that up.
I ’ve got to get out of this cell. I have one more day until I’m to be killed. My extremities are heavy. In fact, when I look down, I can’t see one of my legs. I can feel it, but I can’t see it. Am I losing my mind? What’s happening to me? I need my medication.
After a few moments of hallucinatory activity I see my leg again, my entire leg. I pull from my gut every bit of energy I have and began to scream, yelling at the top of my lungs hoping to provoke some attention. If I can get someone to open the door of my cage, I might have a chance to run or something, a small chance, any chance.
“Let me out of here!” I yell out.
“Knock it off!” a towering figure shouts back. All I see is
Duir ’s huge silhouette in a curtain of darkness.
“Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!” I continue snubbing
constant orders from both guards to be quiet. I’m like the annoying
kid in the back seat of a car on a long distance trip. They try to
ignore me, but I make it impossible. As I bang on the bars, I
continue to shriek. I’m weaker with each and every strike of my
hand to the metal rods enclosing me. Attempting to be stoic with
indifference, they really can’t do anything to me at this point. Straif
wants me in one piece and I’m looking pretty bad.
“Shut it up, Secret!” Phagos yells.
“Get me out of here!” My extremely heavy limbs continue to
fade in and out of view. Am I losing my mind or am I going blind?
My eyes are playing tricks on me. I need that nasty yellow medicine
I’ve taken all of my life. What I wouldn’t give to have it now. I
can’t yell anymore. I can’t bang on the bars any more. The weight
of my own limbs is more than I can handle.
I hear Straif’s voice coming down the stairwell as it bounces
off the rocky walls. “What’s all of the noise, my dear? I heard the
commotion and wanted to make sure things were still in order.” His
voice is full of wickedness. The words slide off his tongue like a
snake sniffing out his next meal.
With a stern look, Straif glances over at the guard standing
attentively in front of my cage whose eyes are wide open. “Make sure she doesn’t lose any more blood. We need every
drop. I want her in good shape for tomorrow. Do you understand?”
His face is about inch away from the guard speaking in a hushed
tone. He gawks at me pathetically through the bars. “This will all be
over soon enough, my dear.” His words make my skin crawl.
Turning to Phagos he demands, “Keep her alive.”
The massive shadow bows at the waist. “Yes, your lordship.” As Straif strides out of the room and back up the stairwell, he
stops at my homework. He rips them off the wall, and tosses them
on the ground in front of my cell.
“We won’t need these anymore.”
I see a painted image of myself sitting in the corner of my cell,
bloody and broken. It’s like looking into a mirror I wish would
crack to pieces. I don’t need a reminder of my predicament. Falling asleep seems impossible, knowing what tomorrow will
bring. I hope it won’t be painful and tortuous, but I know better. I’m too weak to fight. I can barely walk and Straif is going to do whatever he wishes. He’s apparently been planning this for a long time, probably all of my life. I guess I was born for this. Ultimately, I’m the destroyer. My life will give evil its power. If I was strong enough, I would end it myself before they could have me. Before they can ki..ki…. I’m unable to complete the thought. I try to keep my eyes open until the burden of my eyelids is too heavy and I give in.
I awaken to cheers ringing throughout the cave. Everyone is thrilled about the gift they are about to receive.
In my weakened state the guards take me from my cell. “It’s time,” he tells me.
It takes two of them to bring me to my feet. “Walk!” the short one bellows.
I stumble a bit. Knowing what is about to happen makes it difficult to move. I tremble in fear. I think I’m more terrified of the agony than the dying part.
Walking through the hallway, I look at the paintings on the walls and wonder how the hearts of these evil beings can hold the appreciation for the splendor of these masterpieces and still have room for malice. As I’m escorted through the main corridor, the cheers and yelling numbs my ears.
I wonder if my mother knew I’d one day be in this predicament. I guess she did. As we pass the dining hall, I take notice of tables with beautiful ornate settings and banners adorning the room in gold and red. The imps are preparing for a feast they’ll never forget. They gawk, each with a smirk on their face.
We enter the great hall, the floor a shining sea of blackness. I don’t look down, avoiding my reflection. Straif stands at the front of the room with six men behind him all with black robes dragging the floor. Their slick blond hair is pulled tightly back as each strand strains to stay in place. They look like a group of older sextuplets who were spawned from the devil. Phagos, Duir and Bran are among them. Each one expressionless as if they had been warned to keep any excitement to themselves. Straif, on the other hand, is struggling with his enthusiasm, his intensity is apparent. His green eyes are open beyond normality. I don’t think he is aware of his huge grin.
Chills run up the back of my neck and ice down my spine. I’m almost paralyzed when I see the executioner’s table in the middle of the room; the leather straps that will hold me in place and keep me from running scare me more than anything. Death row, this is what it feels like. I think I’m going to pass out which would probably be the best thing that could happen. I’m unable to walk up to the table so they have to drag me.
“Come on. Move it.”
But how can I? How do you walk when you know you’re about to die? They pick me up and throw me onto the table holding me down as I struggle.
“Be careful, I don’t want to break her.” Straif’s words hiss across his lips. He reaches out his hands as if I’m about to crumble. I fight as the straps are fastened around my ankles and wrists. I’m not going anywhere, but it seems unnatural for me to simply lie here without a fight.
“Let me go!” I yell.
“Oh, now we can’t do that. You’ll miss your party, Ashe. And we’ve been planning it for such a long time.” Straif raises his hand and motions the guards away as he walks slowly around the table swallowing his spit as he examines me with his piercing eyes. The guards join the others on the podium, quietly and reverently.
“Today is the day we have all been waiting for! The day of immortality! The day to end all days!” Straif shouts. I can hear the voices of the masses echo throughout the cave vibrating the walls. I guess those allowed to watch were by invitation only and have to maintain decorum. He allows the cheering to go on for a few moments as I struggle with the leather straps in vain.
“Silence!” he barks and all sound ceases; not a movement, not a breath of air. I wish he would get it over with. The waiting is torture. Is he about to do it?
“Just do it!” I demand.
“Very well, as you wish, my dear. As they say in your world, happy birthday, my dear Ashe, happy birthday.”
He pulls out a five-inch blade, shining and polished to perfec
tion. I can see every reflection that falls on it. He slits my wrist ever so slowly carving the flesh enough to have a steady stream of blood. The blade slides across my flesh for about two inches as he holds a glass under my arm. I scream out in excruciating pain; a pain that begs for instant death.
“What are you doing? Please, go ahead with it!” I plead. He’s going to torture me and make me live through my own death.
“This may take a while my dear,” he whispers with excitement as he watches my bright crimson blood drizzle into the crystal glass. I begin to feel dizzy and I hope I’ll pass out soon. I close my eyes and try to picture my life before Durt, life with my father, and what would have been with Rowen. The room begins to spin as I become lightheaded. I see my father holding my hand as we walk through the doorway the first day of school. Eating supper. Laughing in the basement lab.
A strange feeling overcomes my right leg and barely arouse from my hallucinatory daydream. I tussle lifting my head from the table and notice below the knee, my right leg is a vaporized shadow of itself. It’s fading away. Did they cut it off? I didn’t feel a thing. I bend my right knee and suddenly my leg reappears and it’s no longer strapped in. I don’t think anyone noticed. Straif stands on my right side facing me with his glowing green eyes glued to the glass of warm red blood. My blood.
I reach deep down finding strength I didn’t know I had and somehow I’m able to raise my free leg up and with as much strength as I can find, I kick him in the back of the head. He drops the glass and shatters as it hits the floor. His immortality splatters across the ebony.
He raises his opened hand over his head preparing to hit me. “Why you little bi…” When I see someone swing through the air, whisking Straif away by his raised arm, throwing him into one of the giant pillars at the front of the room. Metal clashes and I see him, Rowen, and the other sentries. I knew he would come for me.