“What?”
“You really should take up the Usher’s offer of training. One thought from me, and you were marching out of camp, even along the right path. I didn’t have to control you at all.”
No. No, this wasmydecision. I throw my weight to the left and strain to see him. He’s cocky and full of it, reminding me of how he looked as he walked into my cell.
The memory stirs a deeper essence of my power, like it’s still learning to wake in this new land, but it’s begging to be let loose. It feels different here, like it wants to answer me, it wants to be heard, even if it’s harder to call on. But the men holding me wear gloves and hold me through layers of fabric. There’s barely a hum of energy from them, but it doesn’t stop me from wrestling them. Even if there’s nothing for me to draw from, I fight. I thrash, shrug and jerk my arms, feeling their grip only tightening and all of us travelling in the same direction.
Foothills of the mountains come into view through the trees, as if the leaves are drawing back their curtain, and remind me of the terrain of Kirrasia and the Jet Mountains. The trees frame an open expanse with a staging area similar to the training ring, just there’s only one circle here, and it’s smaller. The rack of weapons to one side doesn’t fill me with confidence.
As I’m dragged farther along, a mouth of a cave grows from a shadow to an ominous gash in the side of the slate grey rock. Its craggy overhang serves as a shelter, but as we grow closer, it makes me think of jaws, threatening to swallow you whole.
Black metal bars are the teeth that will hold me, running from the jaws of the rock into the ground, and a man stands guard at the entrance.
This is worse than the cell in the Tower. That had walls and light. This place…
“No. Please. Don’t…” I wish I didn’t sound so desperate, but I am. I don’t want to be locked in there.
“We can talk about your accommodations in a few days. Know that it wasveryinteresting meeting you, Ever Hart,” the Usher says, the politeness soured by the words.
The man at the barred gate swings it open as we approach. My arms yank back and forth, trying to shake my captor loose, but nothing works. My feet drag and dig into the earth, but with no purchase to stop my trajectory, I slide and slip, right towards my fate.
They toss me inside, and the gate slams on my back.
I turn and wrap my hands around the metal to shake it, but it’s cold and solid and doesn’t budge.
Fenix stands a few feet from my prison, his arms crossed.
“I wish I could say it didn’t have to be this way, but…” he shrugs, and walks away with the Usher, leaving only the sentry.
It might make me a monster, but I still lunge my arm through the bars to reach the man, but he’s smart, and out of reach. He doesn’t even turn to look at what I’ve done. Just keeps still. Watching.
So much for being a guest.
The cold claws through my clothes as if they were rags, exposing me to a bitterness that seeps deep into my bones. It’sinescapable in this cell. It attacks from all around. The ground that’s never seen daylight, the walls, impenetrable to the sun’s rays on the outside.
My nerve gave out before venturing more than a few feet farther into the darkness. As I ran my hand along the rough surface of the rock, the air turned stale, and my heart wouldn’t slow its rapid beat, as if the adrenaline knew I was trapped and wouldn’t find a way out.
So, I turned back to the entrance, ensuring I could still see my escape route and the fading daylight. I sat down, hugging my knees to my chest.
There’s been no movement. No visit. No conversation. Just the cold for company since they shut me inside. And as the light disappears, my fear takes hold.
The night does not make for pleasant company. The sky is so dark that I fear not even the stars shine in this place.
As my eyes tire, I focus on Aslendrix, asking her silently to guide me. To help me and give me the strength to ensure this.
My dream comes quickly, transporting me to that same place, that dark well with the vision of the moon—of Aslendrix—crossing overhead.
“What do I do?” I scream at the only light I can see, my anger giving voice to my panic.
But there is no answer.
Can I trust myself, trust that this is her, or am I finding meaning in my hopeful dreams?
Sleep is fitful. The ache in my neck now reminds me of every time I drop off to sleep, the fall of my head pulling me back awake. And each time I wonder ifshewill be there to guide me.Ifshe will guide me.
I crawl to the gates of the cave and watch the sky, hoping for an answer.
But nothing comes.
