by Amanda Jay
"I already told the Captain. I don't know what other plans they have," Ezra rasped. It hurt to speak. It even hurt to keep his swollen eyelids open.
"Three weeks with Petrike and you haven't given up anything. I am likely to think that you are the most resilient man I have ever come across. But perhaps, just perhaps, you really are innocent in all of this. Just a fool who got caught up in something that he didn't quite understand."
Ezra grimaced as he took a breath, trying to think of what else he could say that he hasn't already said to change his captors' minds.
But Udolphus wasn't expecting a response.
"I suppose it doesn't matter, really. Not anymore. Luckily for you, I might have use for you. And we can even let you go if you cooperate."
Ezra felt a sudden wave of life wash over him. Could it be that they would finally release him back to his Kaelyn?
"What is it? Please?" he rasped. He was ready to do anything.
Udolphus leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. He wore many rings, Ezra deliriously noticed, as the man kept twisting them around and twiddling his fingers as he thought.
"I'll do anything you ask," Ezra offered again, to which Udolphus gave him a wry smile.
"I'm glad you think that way, Mr. Orson. I really am.
"I don't know how much about Mliss' political climate you have been following. Probably quite a bit, if you got wrapped up in this nasty kidnapping business. But word on the street is quite accurate, I'm afraid to say, the Black King is, in fact, losing his mind."
He took off one of his rings then, a heavy, turquoise stone mounted on a sparkling gold band, and tapped it on the table lightly as he spoke.
"It pains me to say this, don't get me wrong. I was with him from the start. He was poised to do great things, and I supported him with all my heart. A part of me still does. But he has stopped being... what's the word I am looking for?" He stopped tapping his ring and spun it on the table instead. "Logical," he conceded.
"Are you a religious man, Ezra Orson?" Udolphus asked, suddenly, sliding his ring back onto his index finger, slowly.
Ezra shook his head slowly, wondering where this was going.
"No, I didn't expect you to be. Us mathematicians rarely are, I suppose. It almost seems to counteract any type of reasonable thinking, doesn't it?"
Ezra didn't answer.
"So the high priests have been whispering in to our beloved King's ear, and he has been believing them. They wanted a law passed on matrimonial duties, and he listens to them. They wanted women to stop working and stay at home, and he listens to that too, despite his many daughters. It's his daughters I believe, that have forced him to lose his mind like this. The first King of our land not to leave a son to carry on the family name."
Udolphus shook his head. He was twisting a different ring now-- a heavyset ruby surrounded by diamonds on his last finger.
"They have told him now that he has one last chance at a son, old as he is. But it requires something quite..." he stopped twisting and thought of a word. "Terrible. Yes, I supposed terrible is the right word. It requires another child. A newborn. But I'm hoping it will not come to that just yet."
He paused and looked at Ezra in a way that chilled him right to his core. What was this man getting at? He wondered.
"Now, the thing is, in case you haven't gathered already, Mr. Orson, I am a man of science. And for a good part of my adult years, I have been working on something. Something which I feel would be groundbreaking in the way we view our world and everything in it. But as committed to my research as I am, I have hit a roadblock. See, the thing with us men of science, is that we know when we don't have the capacity to go beyond a certain point. And so, much to my lasting discontent, I had given up on my theory. That is, until I was asked to look into this 'Cause' business, and I happened to come across this."
He reached below the table and presented a leather bound journal. Ezra knew it well. It was where he had been scribbling his ideas and calculations for the past few years.
"Petrike had no clue what he had his hands on." Udolphus gave a condescending shake of his head. "Just the ramblings of an eccentric, he said. But I don't think he's quite correct in that matter. Do you, Mr. Orson?"
Ezra didn't know how to respond. Even he was partial to think what he had written in his journal was the ramblings of a crazy person. He had his theories, that was true, and he had worked out quite a bit of the mathematics behind his ideas, but he wasn't even slightly close to figuring out if any of it could be applied practically.
"I don't understand," Ezra spoke hesitantly. He didn't want his shot at freedom taken away from him. "What do you want with my journals?"
"Not your journals, Mr. Orson. But you. You see, for the last seven years, I have been working on a machine. A machine that should, in all fairness, be able to do what you describe right here." He patted the book. "There are a final bit of calculations that you haven't reached, but you've gotten much, much, closer to cracking this than I ever could imagine. So I need you to work on this, for me. I feel we are closer than ever to unlocking the greatest discovery in our universe. Or should I say, in both parts of our universe?"
"So you want me to help you figure out the mathematics to get your machine working?" Ezra couldn't believe his luck. This man wanted to release him on condition that Ezra would help him do something that he would love to do anyway.
"Yes. There's a time limit, of course. But simply put, yes."
"A time limit?"
Udolphus pulled a silver band emblazoned with opals off his thumb and spun it on the table.
"Yes, it will have to be done by the time the baby is born, of course."
"The baby?" Ezra's heart had started hammering in his chest.
"Yes. The king wants a baby. I told you that. He's convinced it's the only way he could have a son. And Dunstan Monroe, well, he wants your blood. It's why you are in here in the first place. His daughter, Ethel, was it? She seemed quite bitter. Extremely bitter, if I might say so myself. You know what they say about scorned women. They want you in here for a long, long time. Dunstan Monroe has his tongue so far down the King's ear that it was a difficult sell. But they were all happy to let you go on the condition that you offer up your child. The crown has little sympathy for traitors to the king. I'm doing you a favour here, Mr. Orson. I'm offering you a choice."
"A choice?"
"Yes. A choice. Either help me get the machine working-- this should make it easy for you to get me your baby from, ah, the other side? Shall we call it that? The other side. Or we can just declare the whole mission unsuccessful and take your own child anyway."
Ezra's heart stopped beating. At least, it felt like it stopped. He couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe. He just looked at the man across from him, wondering if this was some kind of joke.
"Surely, you don't think this would be possible?"
Udolphus shrugged.
"Either way, the King wants your child. I just thought I'd make it a little more interesting for you. Give you a chance to save your family. Now do we have a deal?"
Don't agree. What kind of idiot are you? His father's voice screamed in his head. But he pushed that voice aside. All he could think about was how worried Kay must be, and how he had to get back to her and his child. His child. He had to protect it. He had to do everything and anything he could. He would figure out a way out of this when he had the chance.
"We have a deal," he rasped, trying to ignore his father's guffaw in his ear, and the cold hand that clenched his heart.
OF FADING AWAY
Saying goodbye is one of the most heart wrenching things to do, but more difficult than that is not saying good bye at all. When someone leaves without saying anything. When they slowly fade away, a little bit at a time, until there’s nothing left of them for you to ask to stay.
How can someone go from being your entire world, to being an entire stranger, just like that? Day by day, the changes are minute. Minuscule.
Microscopic. The leaving without a goodbye kiss. The way your thoughts have somehow stopped drifting towards them whenever you have a free moment. The tiniest of shift away from an embrace. “It’s too warm,” you apologise or "I'm in a rush." Until one day the person you are next to has become a stranger. Unrecognisable. Unknown.
It feels like walking past a house you once lived in. Familiar, of course, and comfortable. But you have no reason to go inside anymore.
And you think now, how this stranger knows you better than anyone else in the world. Knows your thoughts, your fears, your secrets. But perhaps now, just like them, even your secrets have changed?
FELIX
Felix felt like he lived his life on a battlefield— ducking the insults, shielding himself from the shouting, tending to the injured, knowing it would never do to fire a shot of his own. That it would only make the fighting worse.
Many historians had compared war to the game of chess, and Felix wholeheartedly agreed. His every move had to be tactical, calculated. He would think and rethink and question every decision he made. Every action had a reaction, and it was his job to make sure that the reaction was as minimised as possible. And so he would sacrifice little bits of himself. Did it matter that he was ignored, that he had no friends? He barely gave it a second thought. Did it matter that his father barely looked at him? He saw these sacrifices for what they were-- mere pawns in his game of chess. A necessary forfeiture. Everyone knew chess was all about protecting the queen.
He had taken to sleeping lightly. Any creaking floorboard, any opening or closing door could mean that something bad was happening. Not that he ever had to power to stop anything. He was just a lowly pawn, after all. All he could do was position himself to stop as much damage as possible.
But it was singing, not footsteps, that woke him up that night. Like a gentle gust of cool breeze it drifted into his room, slowly grazing over him. He tumbled out of sleep as if still in a dream. It was her voice. He would recognise her voice anywhere.
You sang your goodbye
I cried and I cried
You said your goodbye
But you lied
It was her song. His heart felt lighter. Perhaps she was back. The real her, not the her who shut him out. She had to be, if she was singing. He crept out of bed and delicately made his way to her room.
“Mom,” he whispered, pushing her door open slightly. There were no lamps lit in her room, but her windows were open and the curtains drawn so silvery light danced and glinted from every surface. She was seated at her little desk, a pen in hand, while a blank sheet of paper lay waiting. But she wasn’t looking at the paper. She was staring out the window, a drowsy smile playing across her face.
I know you had to go
Said I didn’t need you anymore
You sang your goodbye
While I cried
“Mom,” he tried again, moving closer to her.
She finally turned his way, unperturbed by his presence. Her eyes were glazed over, and didn’t quite meet his.
“Felix, my love,” she said, her voice soft and unfocused. “I thought you would be asleep.”
“I was asleep, but I heard you singing, so I thought I’d come and say hello. I've missed you.”
“I was sleeping, yes,” she replied dreamily, ignoring his concern. She closed her eyes and continued to hum to herself. Looks like she wasn’t really back, Felix resigned himself, disappointed. She had put the pen down and now twirled a letter-opener between her fingers.
Felix wondered, later, how it was it was that people were able to recognise that something terrible was happening even before they knew for sure what it was. Was it our human instinct for survival, or some sort of extra sense that people possessed? He didn’t know. But he did know, somewhere in the pit of his stomach, that the innocent looking metal file was a very, very bad thing.
Felix had a rule— Don’t ever ask questions that you don’t really want to hear the answers to, but Kaelyn saw him gazing at her, and it seemed to stir her out of her daze a little.
"Almost done here," she whispered, stuffing a letter in an envelope. In her haste, the letter opener stabbed her finger. A pinprick of blood pooled at her fingertip, shining black in the moonlight. A drop of it trailed down her arm and splattered onto a sheet of paper still laying on her desk.
She finally turned to face him, sending her pen and her letter opener both clattering on to the floor.
“I’m glad you came, Felix. I was going to write you a letter,” she gestured to the now ruined paper, “but I was never good with words. The Twin Gods know that was your father’s talent.”
“Wr-write me a letter for what?” Felix asked, but suddenly her mood changed again.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she said, standing up and pushing her chair back.
“A walk?”
“A walk,” she repeated.
“But it’s the middle of the night.”
“I have to, Felix. I have to walk. I can’t stay here.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice now. The kind Felix could never ignore.
“Mom, why don’t you lie down? We can go for a walk tomorrow, I promise.”
But Kaelyn just smiled, her mind far, far away.
“It has to be now, my darling,” and with that, she made her way out of the room.
Felix couldn’t stop her, but he couldn’t let her go either. And so he followed her, as she made her way down the stairs and out the front door.
Your heart stayed with me
Now I’ll never be free
Your song was as hollow
As your promises would be
They were both barefoot, in their nightclothes, but he didn’t feel the cold as they floated along the deserted streets. He was afraid for her, but mesmerised all the same.
“Mom,” he called out. She was a few steps ahead of him, but slowed down when she heard his voice.
“Oh, hello Felix,” she called out dreamily, as if she had just met him on the street. “I’m so glad you could join me.”
“Mom, where are we going?”
“To the pond,” she said simply.
“Why the pond?” he persisted.
“Because that was the last time that I was whole.”
Felix didn’t understand. But it hardly mattered. This would all make sense at some point, wouldn’t it?
They reached the pond in a soft, cloud-like silence. It lay still— an icy mirror, reflecting the full moon above and the stars that twinkled faintly. She always loved the stars, he remembered her telling him. She drew courage from them. The way they winked down, telling her that she wasn't alone. They had always been her companions. But not to Felix. To him, the stars felt like a testament to how insignificant he was in this large, lonely world. But he was glad there were stars that night. He wanted everything to make her happy. She deserved to be happy.
“Don’t be afraid my love,” she said to him.
Was he afraid? What was he even afraid of?
“I have to go now. I would have had to go eventually. I need you to be strong now. Don’t cry, my love.”
But Felix couldn’t help the tears that had started to roll down his face.
“Please,” he begged quietly. “Please don’t leave me.”
She dipped a foot into the pond, her toes cracking the silver surface, sending ripples that sprang out and ran away from her.
“My love, I will never leave you. You might miss me, I know, and I’m sorry. But I will always be in your heart.”
“No, no, no…” Felix covered his eyes with his hand. He could barely breathe.
“Felix, this is the last thing I am asking from you. Please look at me, one last time, my darling.”
And when he finally looked at her, she knew. She knew he would do whatever it took to protect his queen. That was what he did. What he had always done. But now it was time for her to protect him. Even the queen will sacrifice herself in order to win the game. She stared back at him, defiant, unbending, a
nd he knew too. He knew that she finally found what she was looking for. That it wasn’t him.
You sang your goodbye
I tried and I tried
You sang your goodbye
My heart died
She waded out to the pond, her voice carrying out over the gentle waves. Felix watched her go.
He watched her go.
Felix let her go.
He woke up in a cold sweat, clutching the sheet to his chest as he shivered uncontrollably.
“Don’t be afraid my love,” her words still a whisper in his ear.
EZRA
He couldn't breathe. He was drowning. He kept reaching for her dark pigtail but he never could quite wrap his fingers around it. The water was dark and murky. What little light there was seemed to wane as he struggled to reach for her.
You'll never make it, his father taunted. He didn't know where the voice came from but he could hear it all the same.
You will never be able to make it. Only now it was Petrike's voice.
He was almost there. He could almost save her. If only he could reach just a little further. He stretched out as far as he can, and in the process rolled off the bed.
"Are you okay?" Kay sounded concerned as peered at him.
Ezra sat up on the floor and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." He hoped his politeness was masking his anxiety.
"Did you have a bad dream again?" she asked, getting out of bed and sliding next to him on the floor. She had gotten much bigger now, her belly swelling to accommodate the life growing within her.
"It's fine," Ezra replied briskly, getting up from the floor himself and trying not to notice her hurt expression as he left her there.
He couldn't face her. Not after what happened. Not knowing what will happen.
She had been so happy too, when he staggered through the front door in the middle of the night. He had thought she would have been sleeping, but she was sitting next to the window, staring out with hollow eyes. She had just blinked at him for a moment when she first saw him, as if believing it to be a dream.