Authors: Shira Anthony
The smell of meat cooking over a fire wafted through the enormous cavern, causing Taren’s empty belly to protest. Brynn stumbled over a small hole underfoot, then coughed several times as he righted himself. For the first time, Taren noticed how pale he appeared. Weak, as well. Not surprising, given that they hadn’t eaten since the night before, and then it had been too little to sustain a growing boy.
“In here.” Samuel pointed them toward a small room carved out of the rock.
The other men removed their gags, then shoved them inside. There was no place to sit but the damp floor. Brynn teetered, then nearly fell as he tried to sit. “He needs food and water,” Taren protested. “He’s weak.”
“I’d be more worried about your own skin than this brat’s,” Ralph snarled as he unbound their wrists.
Taren stretched his aching arms as the men filed out of the room. A moment later Ralph closed and locked an iron gate that fit tightly at the opening to the room. An underground prison made of stone and steel.
Brynn shivered, looking paler still. “Rest,” Taren told him. “I’ll wake you when they return.”
Brynn simply nodded, then curled up on the floor and shivered once again.
Taren had no shirt to offer for a blanket this time. He sat down next to Brynn. “Can I put my arms around you to warm you?” he asked.
Brynn shook his head and whispered, “’M fine.”
Taren huffed in frustration. “It’s not weakness to accept help when you need it.”
“Don’t need your help.”
“Suit yourself,” Taren said with a shake of his head. He leaned back against the hard stone of the cave wall and drew a long breath. He shouldn’t have allowed Brynn to take him as far as the island; he should have paid him to tell him where to go, knowing Odhrán’s men would have found him. Unable to sleep, he watched the shudders that racked Brynn’s body subside as he fell into a restless sleep.
We’re in your hands
, Taren told the goddess.
Please keep us safe.
T
HE
WALLS
of the cell seemed to close around him as he watched, powerless to stop their advance.
Cold. So cold….
He stood and ran his hands over the damp surface of the stones, trying to find a weakness. Seria—he couldn’t let Seria touch him again. He wasn’t sure he’d survive it this time. He’d already told them everything he knew—he’d betrayed his crewmembers, betrayed Rider and Bastian. What more did they want from him?
The guard who unlocked the door sniggered to see him cowering in the corner, shivering, frightened. Terrified of what he knew would soon come.
Ian will find me. He’ll take me from here… keep me safe.
But Ian didn’t come. The guard dragged him over the rough stone floor, bloodying his knees. The pain was nothing compared to what he knew awaited him….
Taren woke with a start, fear lingering like fog after the sunrise.
This isn’t the Ea prison. They’re human.
No Seria. No Ea. Humans—capable of inflicting pain, but he could withstand that sort of pain. The reminder of his torture at Seria’s hands faded, and his frenetic heartbeat slowed along with his breathing.
He’d meant to stay awake and alert. When had he fallen asleep?
Brynn slept curled up against him, his head on Taren’s thigh. Not far from where they lay was a metal tray with two cups of water, bread, and cheese. “Wake up, boy,” he said with a shake of Brynn’s shoulder. “Dinner has arrived.”
Brynn’s eyes fluttered open and he pulled away from Taren so abruptly Taren could only blink in surprise. Brynn struggled to sitting and nearly toppled over with the effort. When Taren reached out to help him, Brynn moved out of his reach. “I’m fine,” he snapped.
Taren resolved to be a bit more careful with Brynn. It was almost as if he feared Taren’s touch. Taren retrieved the tray, then set it between himself and Brynn. “You’re hardly fine. Here.” He handed Brynn a bit of the bread he’d dipped in the water. “Eat.”
Brynn glared at him, coughed a few times, but took the bread without protest. He needed far more than bread and water. He looked ill. Feverish. The cold dampness of the caves had probably made things worse. He’d seemed fine the day before, but now….
Damn!
He couldn’t stay here forever. He needed to speak to Odhrán, and soon. Maybe he could convince him to let Brynn go. “I must see Odhrán!” he said as he stood up and walked over to the bars. His heart pounded in his chest and he clenched his jaw.
It didn’t take long to rouse the guard posted at the door from his nap. He glared back at Taren. “What is it ye want?” he demanded, clearly angered to have been woken.
“I must see Odhrán,” Taren repeated as he paced in front of the bars.
The guard laughed and turned to reclaim his spot a few feet away.
“I have something he wants.”
The guard laughed again.
“Something valuable. A silver dagger.” Bluster, since Taren really wasn’t sure where he’d lost it, but the guard didn’t need to know that.
Let them think I’ve hidden it.
“He don’t want no dagger,” the guard said with a shake of his head. “He’s got plenty of ’em. Swords too.”
“This one’s different.” He’d have to risk saying more. But if Vurin was correct and Odhrán knew something about the stone…. “Tell him it’s Ea. Priceless.”
The guard frowned and eyed Taren with suspicion, then headed down one of the passages nearby.
Taren sat back down by Brynn, who had curled up once more on the cold stone floor. “You need to eat more, boy,” Taren said as he pulled the tray closer.
Brynn stirred. “Not hungry,” he mumbled.
“You need to eat. You look terrible.”
Brynn glared at Taren.
“Here.” Taren handed Brynn a small piece of cheese. “Eat it slowly.”
Brynn took the cheese, seemed to consider it for a moment, then put it in his mouth.
“Are you ill?” Taren asked.
“’M fine. And you’re not my mother.”
At least Brynn still had some fire in him. Taren figured that was a good sign.
A half hour later, having eaten most of the cheese and a good portion of the bread, Brynn looked far better. Taren finished the rest of the food, made sure Brynn drank some water, and then got back to his feet and began to pace the width of the cell.
After an hour or so had passed, Taren heard voices from the tunnel where the first guard had disappeared. “Captain!” the second guard barked as he stood at attention.
“No need to be gettin’ so excited, John,” said a deep voice that Taren now saw belonged to a bear of a man. Dark-haired and bearded, he stood nearly a head taller than all the other men. Odhrán, Taren guessed, judging by the guard’s response. Human. But why would a human be the keeper of the stone? Had the old woman tried to mislead him, or had he simply not understood her words?
Odhrán peered into the cell and laughed. “Brynn,” he said, “I might have guessed ye’d lead someone ’ere.”
“Captain Odhrán… sir.” Brynn’s voice quavered as he spoke. Taren guessed he feared the pirate.
And for good reason
. Odhrán could probably break Brynn in two if he wished. “I…. He said he doesn’t mean you harm. He said—”
“If he said he was yer long-lost mother, pup, would ye believe that too?”
“I said I wanted to meet you,” Taren told Odhrán. “I was sent here by Vurin.”
“Vurin?” Odhrán laughed. “That old dog? And what does he want with me other than gold? He wants my gold. Nothin’ more.”
“He says you may know something about the rune stone.”
“What stone? Don’t know of no stone he wants except gold. I told him before I ain’t sharin’ no gold.”
“I’ve got a dagger.” When Odhrán shot him a skeptical glare, Taren added, “I mean, I know where it is.” Odhrán’s expression softened a bit, as if he was considering Taren’s offer.
Of course he’d be more interested in a weapon.
“It’s very old. Silver.”
“Hoping to buy yer freedom?” Odhrán narrowed his eyes into tiny slits.
“Can you blame me?”
“You’ve got as sharp a tongue on ye as the boy, don’t ye?” Odhrán laughed. “I’ve no interest in yer dagger. I’ve got plenty of silver. Don’t need no more.”
“It’s valuable. Ancient. I dropped it in the water. Not far from where our ship fought the brigantine.”
“Needle in a haystack,” Odhrán said with a grunt. “Not worth my time to do yer dirty work for a little bit of silver.” He shook his head and then turned to leave.
“At least let Brynn go,” Taren said. “He’s ill. He’s—”
“I’ll not kill ’im. Least not this time. I’ll let ’im go if the mood strikes me,” Odhrán said, his blunt features set in a scowl.
“But the stone—”
“No idea what yer talkin’ about.” He shook his head, then left before Taren could respond.
T
AREN
AWOKE
some time later, having dozed off to thoughts of Ian and the
Phantom
. Once again he’d dreamed of Ian, and once again the dream had felt real.
The cell was still dark. From the regular pattern of the light, Taren guessed the crystals that lit the interior of the cave mimicked the sunlight outside and dimmed with the setting sun. Had they really been here in this cell for more than two days?
Brynn slept fitfully by Taren’s side, his breaths now coming in raspy gasps. Taren had known boys like Brynn, fragile and easily sickened from the dampness of the dormitory at the inn. At least one of them had died. He needed to get Brynn out of here.
He stood up and began to pace. He couldn’t remember ever being as restless. Even in the Ea prison, he’d never felt this way. The restlessness reminded him of Ian, whom he’d seen pace the decks just as he now paced the cell. Ian had often mentioned they shared a special bond—a bond few Ea experienced. Soulbound, Ian had called it. Was it possible that his unease was
Ian’s
unease, communicated to him? Or was the island the cause of the strange thoughts he’d been having?
Stop this. You’re overthinking things. You’re worried about Brynn.
He rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He needed to think. Figure out how to get them out of here. He studied the bars on their cell, looking for weaknesses where he might loosen the metal. If Odhrán was lying, Taren could come back for the stone with Ian and some of the men. As important as Vurin claimed the rune stone to be, Taren wouldn’t sacrifice Brynn’s life for it. Perhaps Renda could use his magic to infiltrate Odhrán’s stronghold. Or perhaps Vurin and the old woman had been mistaken and the pirate had never possessed the stone.
“Get up!”
Taren squinted, struggling to see the guard in the darkness. With his human eyes, he could only see the barest hint of movement beyond the cell.
“Time to go,” the guard said as Taren got to his feet. “Back away from the door.”
“Go? But what about Brynn?” Taren asked.
“Where you’re going, the boy don’t need to follow,” the guard replied with a half-cocked grin.
They mean to kill me
. Taren glanced around to see if Brynn was still asleep. In the darkness, he could barely see the rise and fall of Brynn’s chest. Only his ragged breathing reassured him that he had not yet succumbed. If Odhrán left Brynn here much longer, Taren was sure he’d die. But if he tried to escape and take Brynn with him….
The rattling of keys and the sound of metal rubbing against metal told Taren the guard was unlocking the door. This close, Taren could see the sword in the guard’s hand as he stepped across the threshold and shoved the keys into his belt. If there had been only one guard, Taren might have attempted to wrestle the weapon away, but a second guard stood watch outside the open doorway, his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
Taren wouldn’t wager Brynn’s life against two armed men, not in Brynn’s weakened condition. He’d try to reason with Odhrán’s men. If he told Odhrán his life had value—that if Ian and the crew heard of his captivity, they’d pay a ransom to see him returned—he might be able to bargain for Brynn’s quick release as well as his own.
“Out ye go,” the guard said as he shoved Taren over the threshold toward his companion. “Ye best not keep Captain Odhrán waiting.”
Taren clenched his jaw and took a step, but the sound of a shriek from the cell stopped him in his tracks. He whirled around just in time to see Brynn launch himself at the first guard’s back. The guard spun, trying to reach Brynn, who was clawing at the guard’s face with his fingers.
Taren didn’t hesitate. This wasn’t at all what he’d planned, but he’d hardly pass up the opportunity to escape, especially if Brynn still had strength to fight. Taren blocked the second guard’s way and kicked him hard in the groin. Before he could fully draw his weapon, Taren struck the guard on his wrist, causing the sword to skitter across the smooth stone floor to the corner of the cell. Taren and the guard traded blows. Out of the corner of his eye, Taren saw the other guard cease his spinning and back up, hitting Brynn hard against the stone wall.
Damn!
Taren admired Brynn’s mettle, but he’d not last long if the guard continued to pound his slight body with all his weight. Brynn, however, seemed undeterred. His laughter rang throughout the cell as he snagged the keys from the guard’s pocket. Taren was tempted to point out that they didn’t need the keys at this point, since the door was still ajar, but he held his tongue, instead kicking his opponent in his gut with all his strength. Winded, the guard bent over to catch his breath, and Taren took the opportunity to punch the man hard on the temple. He crumpled to the ground without a sound.
“Brynn!” Taren shouted as he charged the first guard, knocking him to the side and dislodging Brynn from the place where he was wedged between the man and the wall. “Run, boy!”
Brynn jumped down from the guard’s back, walked a few paces, then teetered and collapsed with a sigh.
This time Taren didn’t hesitate. He punched the remaining guard in the side before ducking to avoid the swing of his sword. He felt the air above his head stir with the movement of the steel but ignored it and grabbed the other man’s wrist. They wrestled for several minutes until Taren managed to twist the guard’s arm and disarm him. Taren hadn’t realized how much stronger he’d become since he’d first transformed. It took only three more blows before the second guard joined his cohort on the ground.