The Inner Circle: The Knowing

by Cael McIntosh

  *

  There had been shouting upstairs. There’d been thudding and screaming and doors slamming followed shortly thereafter by an eerie silence. Ilgrin pulled his knees up to his chest. His teeth chattered and his breath had become visible. ‘What?’ He said irritably at the small owl staring up at him from the floor. In response, the bird merely puffed out his feathers and retracted his head as far as he could. Apparently Ilgrin wasn’t the only one feeling the chill.

  ‘It’s very scary,’ Seeol rasped softly, tilting his head to make eye contact. ‘Does you think we’ll be safe?’ he asked as the temperature continued to drop.

  ‘I don’t know, little bird.’ Ilgrin shuddered and wrapped himself in his wings. ‘Come now,’ he added, having noticed Seeol’s chest moving increasingly slowly. ‘It’ll be all right.’ He scooped up the bird and held him to his chest.

  ‘Is not,’ Seeol croaked, his legs giving out so that he rested on his keel bone. ‘Too much coldness.’

  ‘Hold on,’ Ilgrin leaned down and exhaled over the owl, hoping to warm him with his breath. But it made no difference. Seeol closed his eyes, tongue clicking softly between his mandibles. Finally his wings hung slack and he did little more than occasionally twitch.

  ‘Maker,’ Ilgrin wheezed. His muscles grew weak and his arms became stiff. ‘Don’t let us die down here,’ he whispered to no one. A loud cracking sound gave him cause to look up as sheets of ice formed on the door and walls. Seeol leaned heavily on one side, his claw scratching weakly in Ilgrin’s palm . . . until it didn’t. The bird’s toes curled up. Seeol was about to die.

  Ilgrin’s breathing became laboured. He leaned against the wall, eyes focussed on the bird before him. He needed to acknowledge its last breath. Even an animal deserved that much. Seeol’s toes twitched and oddly enough the temperature raised just a fraction.

  The bird’s eyes popped open and he fluttered to the ground where he staggered about in drunken circles. Ilgrin’s breath caught. Seeol violently shook his feathers and the temperature exploded to that of a hot summer’s day. He stared at the owl fearfully. How could this be? The ice came to a glossy finish in the cracks around the door.

  ‘Seeol?’ Ilgrin swallowed nervously. ‘What did you do?’