Chapter 17
Time after time, the orange-haired guard comes in, and each time he brings stale or moldy bread and a cup of water.
Each time he makes a point of abusing me.
I’m cut or bruised on nearly every inch of my body.
He’s been careful not to break any bones at least. I’ve tried to fight back, but the lack of food, sunlight, and any real sleep has made me slow, and my body refuses to obey my mind.
I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been here, but I’ve been able to trace time in some way by watching myself slowly deteriorate.
Moldy bread and slimy water is no way to survive.
I’ve lost a lot of weight and almost all of my muscle.
I can feel my ribs protruding from my abdomen.
Based on this, I’d say I’ve been locked in this cell for weeks.
If I was a betting woman, I’d wager the summer is at least half over.
The darkness and isolation of the cell are their own special kind of torture.
I’ve been swept away by my panic over and over again. Forgetting my promise to myself to not give them my tears, I sob and gasp for air. But each time it passes, I find myself more determined, more stalwart.
The key is in the lock, and the deadbolt slides.
I rise to my feet, readying myself for that orange-haired bastard.
He’s the only guard I’ve seen. Maybe he’s the only guard there is.
He always leaves the door open behind him, and I’ve never seen anyone else in the corridor, so if I can catch him by surprise this time, maybe I can get out of this cell, and at least that’s a start.
I stand behind the door, waiting for it to swing open.
My mind and body may be refusing to cooperate, but I can still use what I do have to my advantage.
The door. It’s heavy, metal and sturdy. If I can swing it back on him with enough force, I might do enough damage to disarm him long enough to run.
I’ve been waiting, biding my time, letting him think he’s winning, that I’m breaking so his guard will be down. I’ll only have one shot at this.
The door swings open. I brace my hands on the wall behind me and kick the door with as much force as I can muster.
The metal reverberates as it connects with flesh and bone.
There’s a loud grunt followed by a string of curses.
I swing around it, ready to make a run for it when an arm grabs me around my waist and pulls me to a firm chest.
Fuck! I kick out and scratch at the arm bound around me, fighting against the hold with everything I have.
“She’s still got some fight in her,” a nasal voice chuckles in my ear. I know that voice. This isn’t the usual guard.
“Fucking Condemned bitch, this is the second time she’s fucked with my face.
” The one holding me against his chest throws me against the stone wall.
Unable to get my hands up in time, my face collides with it and blood bursts from my nose.
I turn to face them, ignoring the pain in my face.
I spit my blood at their feet. The twins, Elex and Osper, grin at me.
One of them, Osper, is also bleeding from his nose, and I can’t help but feel a sick kind of pride that I did that to him.
I hope I permanently messed up his pretty face.
They back me into a corner at the back of the cell. Fear clutches my heart painfully. I can’t win. Either I fight and probably die, or I succumb and die alone in the darkness.
There’s no way out.
“What do you want with me?” I scream at them, my self-control fraying.
“Answers.” Osper lunges for me. My useless body isn’t quick enough to escape.
He snatches my wrists, his bare skin coming into contact with mine, and my spine snaps backward.
The pain in my head that has been a constant companion comes to a screeching pinnacle, and I’m thrust to another place, another time.
I’m looking down at Osper, blood pouring from a wound in his neck, my dagger buried to the hilt.
I slam back to my body, in the present, lying on the hard floor with the twins’ faces hovering over me, their faces contorted with looks of confusion and rage.
There’s something else there as well. Fear.
“What was that?” Osper asks. Elex shrugs. I look into Osper’s blue eyes and manage a smile that’s hopefully as wicked as it feels.
I’m barely holding on to consciousness. Between the brief tussle with the twins and whatever that episode was, I can’t even lift my head, let alone resist as Elex bends over, grips my ankles in his meaty hand, and drags me out of my cell.
The hallway we turn down is so narrow the twins have to walk one in front of the other.
Elex stops briefly to throw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
I don’t fight it. I don’t have the energy to.
Whatever that vision was, it felt like it damn near killed me.
A part of me wishes it had. At least then I would die my way, not theirs. Then the suffering would end.
We twist and turn through the cramped halls, my head dangling down Elex’s back. The blood rushing to it makes the ache unbearable. I push against Elex’s back, trying to bring my head back up to relieve the pressure.
We stop. A door creaks. The stench of sterilizing oils and blazing lights assault my senses.
Elex walks me across the small white room and plops me down on a freezing metal table.
They secure straps around my chest, arms, legs, and forehead.
I squirm, but my muscles are too weak to do much else.
I’m unaware of the other presence in the room until it speaks.
“This is her?” The grating voice sounds bored and unimpressed. “Does she know what she is?”
The man the voice belongs to comes into view from behind my head to stand by my shoulder.
He’s short and balding, his gray hair cut close to his head.
He’s wearing a white coat I’ve heard members of the House of Rejuvenation wear.
On the breast pocket of the thick wool coat is another embroidered symbol, only this one is orange with three triangles connected in the middle by a hexagon.
He must be a member of the Asa family. I’ve done some research on the Exalted families over the years.
Asked around, bought some information when I could, things like that.
But I could only get information on certain houses.
The ones that are the most active. Like the Asas.
They’re called rejuvenators, but are just glorified, overpriced healers.
They claim they can heal any injury whether physical, mental, or spiritual with nothing but their hands, but they’re just a bunch of puffed-up con artists.
Though I’m starting to wonder whether all magic is fake. My mind wanders back to the wigmaker. To Boldroc, the statue that I’m not so sure didn’t move. The pain I felt when the wigmaker put her hands on me. The cold afterward. Even the weird premonitions I’ve been having. Especially those.
“Not sure. Not as far as we know,” Elex shrugs, snapping my attention back to the current conversation.
Right. Focus now, existential crisis later.
Rejuvenator Asa makes a small humming noise. “Has she seized or seemed to stare off into space?” he asks.
Elex and Osper share a look. “She just did, back in her cell,” Osper says, his eyebrows coming together.
“Did one of you touch her? Skin to skin?”
Osper nods. I flash a vicious smile his way. I’m barely hanging on to consciousness, but I fight back oblivion. It seems as though I might finally get some answers here.
“Hm.” Rejuvenator Asa rubs his chin. “I’d say she probably had a vision of your future, boy.” I startle and stare up at him, my eyes wide.
“Yes child,” he says, finally looking at me. “I know you can see and sense the future. It’s in your blood. We know who and what you are. What we don’t know is how you’re accomplishing it. How you’re taking the gifts without the talisman.”
My mind can’t make sense of his words. Taking gifts? What gifts? What am I? I have no idea how to respond, so I clamp my mouth shut. Better to give them nothing than to say the wrong thing.
“Tell me how you’re doing it, girl.” His voice is calm, but his beady eyes betray the anger simmering under the surface. I blink up at him.
“Tell me!” His voice echoes off the clean, white walls, startling me. I stare him down and clench my jaw so tightly it aches.
“No matter.” He sighs and smooths his hands down his coat, regaining his composure. “I’ll find out soon enough.”
He rounds the metal slab until he’s standing at my head and places his bony, ice-cold fingers on both of my temples, applying a small amount of pressure as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
A faint orange glow emanates from his fingers in my peripheral, and I feel a small scratch in my mind.
The sensation grows and grows until there’s pain like I’ve never felt before.
It feels as though he’s ripping my skull apart slowly and digging through my mind with sharp claws.
A scream tears at my throat, and I thrash against my binds and his grip.
There’s no escape. Black begins to creep into my vision and I’m certain I’m dying. Certain that he’s killing me.
Thank the gods and goddesses. Death take me.
With that final thought, my world goes black. I sink into the abyss, letting it consume me. Letting go of all the pain. Releasing any of the resentment I’ve ever felt toward my mother and my father, my world. I feel at peace. I’m ready to die.
A light shines through the void, pulling me to it. I think I’ll finally see my mother again, my father. All those who died before me. I go toward the light, welcoming my demise.
The scent of sterile oils hits my nostrils.
No.
My eyes flutter open, struggling to focus.
No. No. No. NO!
I’m still in the bright, white room strapped to the metal table. My body aches and my head pounds. My breathing picks up and my heart takes off at a wild speed. I turn my head as far as my binds allow and see Rejuvenator Asa. He’s sitting in a corner of the room sipping on tea and reading a book.
Gods and goddesses, please no. Please help me. Please let this end. Please. I pray silently. They’ve never answered me before, but if they were ever going to, now would be a good time.
He turns to face me, placing down his teacup. “Good, you’re awake.” He gets up and slowly stalks toward me, rolling up the sleeves of his white coat, like he’s a predator and I’m his prey. “Let’s try again, shall we?” I start to pull at my binds.
“It’s no use, child. You’re just wasting your energy.” Asa sighs. He places his hands on my head once again and closes his eyes.
A tear breaks free, rolling down my temple and soaking into my hair.