Chapter 39 James
James
Paralyzed by the narcotic, James had been powerless to fight back as they’d dragged him to the showers, stripping away the finery and paints to dress him in a rough tunic and trousers.
From there he was hauled through the prison and out into a massive courtyard.
It was entirely paved, with smoking chimneys at all four corners, the walls high and smooth and heavily manned.
But it was to the small slitted openings in the paving that James’s focus went.
There were dozens of them, and from them shrieks and gibberish poured forth.
These were the Furnace cells, filled with men and women who were incarcerated for life.
The screams were from prisoners who’d lost their minds to the horror of their circumstances, and he and Ahnna were about to join their ranks.
There were two larger openings in the ground, and James was lowered into one. Left to lie on his back, staring up as masons worked to fill in the opening so that only a small slit remained.
He could not move.
Could not scream.
Could do nothing but lie motionless and stare at the small opening that showed the sky. A sliver of freedom to long for but never achieve, because the only freedom to be won in this place was in death.
The stone beneath him was hot, warmed by the heating system beneath these cells that gave the prison its name. The air grew close and stifling, stinking of the filth of those who had lived and died in this space. Panic filled his chest because it felt like he was being cooked alive.
Ahnna. James tried to scream her name but all that came out was a breath of air.
They were burying her in the chamber next to him, bricking her in.
For a woman like her, there would be no greater torture.
She was a storm over the Tempest Seas, a wind that needed to race free over open spaces, not be locked in a hole in the ground.
“Ahnna.” Her name was no more than a whisper, but with it, James felt the narcotic beginning to lose its hold.
His hands twitched and then his feet. With concerted effort, he turned his head, taking in the stone walls of the chamber.
A single wooden cup. A tiny wooden pitcher.
A bucket, made in the same rectangular shape as the small slit above.
James rolled his head in the other direction. There was enough light that he could make out a small opening in the side of his cell. “Ahnna!”
His voice was loud now, and in the silence that followed, he faintly heard, “James?”
No part of his body wanted to obey, but James painstakingly forced himself to edge sideways until his face was in front of the opening.
Through it, he could see Ahnna lying on her back in the small beam of light from above.
So painfully still, the only sign of life the faint rise and fall of her breasts.
“Ahnna! Ahnna, I can see you. When you can move, look to your right. There’s a small hole. ”
Ahnna’s chest shuddered as she drew in a heavy breath. “James?”
“I’m here.” He didn’t add that he was on the far side of a wall. Or that they’d been encased in a cell in the ground with no way out. “You’ll be able to move soon enough.”
Now that the narcotic had lost its hold, James’s strength was flooding back to him. “Keep trying to move.”
He stood, noting that the floor was curved.
As were the walls themselves. James pressed a hand against the stones, grimacing at the scratches in them.
Nail marks and dried smears of blood turned black from age.
Stretching up high on his bare toes, he reached for the fresh masonry at the very top, but even when he jumped, it was too high.
Sweat ran down his back from the oppressive heat. James retrieved the water pitcher, filling the small cup. He drank without concern. Katarina wanted him alive, and filthy water in these conditions would make short work of that.
He took another mouthful of the water, glaring at the opening above, which might present an opportunity.
For what? his doubt whispered. They’ve built the cell around you.
His scowl deepened, but then he picked up the sound of rapid breathing. Too rapid. “Ahnna?”
She didn’t answer. James dropped to his knees, looking into the hole. Ahnna was sitting, broken arm resting on her lap. “Ahnna, just breathe.”
“They walled us in here. We’re trapped.”
She wasn’t wrong.
His lips parted to tell her not to panic, but James thought better of it. “Katarina needs us alive. If we are alive, there is hope.”
“Why is it so hot?” She gasped out the words, struggling to breathe. Then she pressed her hand to the ground. “James, why is the ground so hot? Are they…” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “The Furnace. That’s the reason for the name, isn’t it?”
“They heat the ground beneath us.” There was no point in lying. “There’s water in the pitcher next to you.”
She snatched it up, taking several big gulps before stopping to stare at it. “When do we get more?”
Likely not soon, and seeming to recognize that, Ahnna set the pitcher aside. “She’s going to murder my family. My people. And I can’t do anything about it.”
“Nothing will happen quickly.” He hunted for something to say that would keep her calm. “Katarina said the storms have been bad. No one can do anything to Ithicana if the typhoons are battering the Tempest Seas. We have time.”
“Time to do what?” Her voice was breathy, like she wasn’t getting enough air into her lungs. “There is no way out!”
“Come here.” She didn’t move, so he repeated, “Ahnna, please.”
Slowly, she moved closer to the wall and lowered her face to look through. It was nothing but shadows, but James swore his nose picked up the scent of the sea.
“It’s hard to see,” she whispered. “Part of me wonders if it isn’t even you. If I’ve already lost my mind.”
James retreated to the center of the cell, the beam of light illuminating his face. Almost instantly, her breathing steadied, and he returned to the wall. “Never lose sight of the fact that they need us alive. Need us sane enough to be useful. I’m sure that’s why they left this opening between us.”
Ahnna moved, and then her hand was reaching into the opening. James slipped his own arm in, closing his hand around hers. Feeling the familiar texture of her skin, callused from toil and war. And she whispered, soft as a breath, “That was her first mistake.”