Chapter Ten
Andi
The voice of the toothless guard shivers down my spine, paralysing every muscle in my body. Myles tightens his grip around my waist.
“We can do this the easy way—” Toothless gestures to the temple behind him. “Or the hard way.”
The sharp sound of his sword being drawn from its sheath is reminiscent of the thin ice on the lake, fracturing beneath my feet. The looming threat of the frozen depths waiting to submerge me.
My pounding heart pulsates in my ears. Four guards stalk around the edge of my peripheral vision, predators pursuing their prey. I swivel on my heels, my wide eyes meeting the vicious glare of toothless.
Myles’s fingers slip off my waist as he reaches for a wooden barrel, throwing it towards the guards. The crash caught one unprepared, knocking him to the ground. Within seconds, the others draw their weapons and step towards us. Myles grabs my arm and drags me with him.
We sprint down the lane, tumble around corners, leaving clattering objects in our wake.
Terrified to slow down as we barrel past folk, the yells of protest rebound off the cramped alley.
Myles tips over a tower of wooden boxes and crates onto the ground behind us, hoping all the debris will slow our hunters down.
Blocking our exit are waiting guards, with swords drawn. We skid to a stop, creating a fog of gravel sailing through the air. Using the distraction, we search for another escape route.
An army of red emerges through the mist. “Myles…” I say, my voice quivering as I reach for him.
He doesn’t answer; instead, he focuses his attention on a decaying door to our right.
With one almighty kick, the door flies off its hinges, flying into a dusty storeroom.
Myles yanks my arm, dragging me behind him, and my feet barely touch the floor.
Once inside, he heaves a bookshelf over barricading the door. Giving us just enough time to run.
The guards kick the bookshelf out of the way, while we rush through the old building, until we reach the front door.
Having been lying dormant for a while, it creaks and groans when opened.
We speed down the cobblestoned roads of Oldtown, slipping past the drunken clientele of the tavern and stumbling down the wooden steps into the cellar.
Hearing shouting from above, we conceal ourselves between whisky barrels and crates of wine.
The cellar is silent, save a few rats, squeaking and scavenging.
Above us stomp heavy footsteps and loud voices.
I hold my breath waiting for the guards to find us hiding down here.
Several harrowing minutes pass before the footsteps disappear, and I let out an unsteady breath.
Myles rests his head against the back wall as relief washes over us both.
He stares at me with his eyes full of pain.
Pain for the woman he loves being chased.
Or pain from the loss of a peaceful life he dreamed of, destroyed. Because of me. His dream of the house by the willow tree was always a fantasy, a dream not made for us. Or at least for me.
Myles strains his neck to look over the barrels before whispering, “I think it’s safe.”
One quiet step at a time, we make our way to the cellar exit. Myles lifts the door open, peering outside before allowing me to follow. We walk towards the bridge, making no sound that would alert them to our presence. With no sign of anyone at all, we make the quick decision to run for it.
“Gotcha.”
A guard slips out of a door behind us, smashing the hilt of his sword into Myles’ head, another grabs me from behind and covers my mouth.
I bite the hand as hard as I can and my mouth fills with a metallic taste, making my stomach churn, but it does the job.
The guard screams, dropping me to the ground.
I crawl along towards Myles, wiping the blood from my chin.
Someone smacks me over the back of my head.
My vision blurs, and I feel as though I weigh nothing.
I am thrown over a shoulder and taken back into town.
Through spotty vision, I watch as multiple guards kick and punch Myles, leaving him beaten on the ground, blood pouring down his face.
Kicking and screaming, I’m followed by the guards who viciously beat Myles.
Tossed onto the steps of the temple, landing with a thud and a loud crack at my ribs, my breath hitches at the pain.
“We have been lenient with you all, yet you still disobey Lord Adrian’s orders.”
An irate yell from above me spits with each word. I cry out in pain, turning to see the man who displays so much anger. The captain.
Lenient? Is that what you call assault? I want to cry out, but my words sink in my chest along with what’s left of my breath. Women around me clutch their remaining clothes or tend to their beaten faces. They didn’t run, and yet, this is the ‘leniency’ they were shown.
What will become of me? Not only did I run, but guards were also hurt in my attempt.
A hand clamps down on my hair, and I yell in pain as he brings me up to his old, weathered face.
His armour is painted in blood splatters, matching the colour of his maroon tunic.
The captain yanks off my cloak, throwing it to the ground, and flings me with my back against a wall, his hand tight around my throat.
He indicates to another guard, who then ties my hands together with a piece of rope so tight, it burns my skin.
“This stupid bitch tried to run, twice,” he announces to the gathering horde.
The crowd shout over the top of each other, at him, at me. I can’t tell. Their cries are a mixture of outrage and indignation. Folk like a show, and that’s what the guards are going to give them.
Leaning into my face, the captain’s breath is a combination of rotten fish, beer and tobacco. I’m going to throw up.
“Now, sweetie, why were you running? Got something to hide?”
I spit at his feet; he punches me, and blood pools in my mouth. I spit it onto his face, glaring at him with all the rage I can rouse, hoping it’s enough to hide my fear. Determined not to let him break me.
He wipes his face, clenching his hand into a fist. My eyes widen with terror as it bangs into my jaw, so hard my head slams back against the stone.
I shake my head to remove the multicoloured spots from my vision, but with the sheer force of his attacks, it’s hard to budge.
The townsfolk watch me with a mixture of pity and disgust.
Mum screams as she, Elana and Wyatt, break through to the front of the crowd.
My blurry eyes scan over Wyatt, Mum’s arm is draped over him, blood still dripping from his head.
His eye is swollen shut, already turning a deep shade of purple.
He tries to hobble towards me, barely able to stand on his own two feet. I shake my head. I’m beyond help.
The best thing he can do is to stay with Mum and Elana. Keep them safe.
Wyatt lowers his chin, understanding me, he tries to usher Mum and Elana away. I don’t want them to see me like this, and they’ll be in danger too, if they try to help, or if the guards discover they are my family.
“Well, well,” The captain says, holding out a glowing compass. “Do you know what this is? It senses magic. Since we arrived in this pathetic little town, it hasn’t flickered with light until now. Look, it’s blazing.”
The captain grips my throat tighter before spinning me around, smacking my head into the wall, the uneven stones slicing into my face.
“Let’s see if it’s wrong, shall we?” he whispers into my ear. “I’ll tell you one thing though, don’t think for a second, you’ll be let off. You’ll get what’s coming to you.”
Tears stream down my cheek, stinging the fresh cuts across my skin.
With one hand, he grabs the neck of my dress and rips it down the middle.
His nails scratch down my neck and back, and I freeze, trying not to show any more pain.
The crowd gasps, and the captain laughs as he traces my mark with his finger.
His rough touch causes bile to rise in my throat.
He whispers in my ear, “Guess we found out your little secret.” He yanks me backwards, thrusting me against the wall.
I yelp with another crack from my ribs. With a forceful punch into my stomach, he winds me.
Audible gasps sound from the bystanders; unwilling to risk themselves to help, until someone yells from the back.
“Touch her again and I’ll rip out your throat.”
Myles emerges from the crowd, sword in hand, and guards rush at him from all sides.
He slices his sword down on a guard’s shoulder, driving deep into his collarbone.
Using his foot to remove his sword, blood spurts out as the guard clutches his neck before falling to the ground.
In a quick movement, Myles spins round, smacking the hilt of his sword on another guard’s head, slashing through the back of the knee.
Myles lifts his head to meet the captain’s eye, taking one look at me, his eyes darken. The sight of blood pouring down my face ignites a spark in him.
He pulls a dagger from his belt, tossing it into the eye of a descending guard. I try to extricate myself from the captain’s grip, screaming for Myles before the captain digs his fingers deep into my throat, cutting off air.
He leans into me, saying, “Your man, I take it?” He moves to the side, so we can both watch Myles attempt to fight off his men.
“It’s admirable for him to try and fight for you.
Alas, it’s pointless.” Laughing, he brushes the loose strands of my hair off my bruising face.
“Doesn’t he know, you belong to Adrian?” His hand trails down my cheeks, wiping away stray tears, down my jaw to my necklace.
“What a pretty little trinket. Think I’ll have that, give it to the wife. Or mistress.”
Laughing, he wrenches it off me, stinging my neck as it rips open my skin. Blood trickles down my chest, but I can’t focus on the searing pain, not when Myles is surrounded and struggling. He’ll never be able to beat them. There are too many.
Anger boils my blood, my eyes snap to the captain with his hand still squeezing my neck. Ire courses through every vein, every muscle, a pulsing ripple flows through my body. The rope scratching against my wrists dissolves.
Reflected in the captain’s terrified face are my jet-black eyes, as dark as the hair on my head. I grab hold of his arm and neck, forcing all my fury into him. He shrieks, his skin withers beneath my touch, his body turning to dust.
The crowd gasps and screams, folk fleeing at the sight.
My body levitates off the ground, with an ear-piercing screech, my head falls, and my body contorts. A white light erupts from within me, zapping fire in all directions, burning all it touches. I turn my attention to the guards around Myles.’
Movements turn to slow motion as I watch a guard push his sword into Myles' chest. His face twists in pain, turning to me just before he slumps down to the ground.
I clench my outstretched fist, my knuckles turning as white as my fire, draining all life from the guard’s body. Warmth and light pulse through my blood, as theirs boils inside them. Crimson tears escape their eyes; their skin and bones evaporating into nothing. Their wails, gratifying.
Gasping for breath as my body lands on the ground, the flame flickers out. I try to stand but crumble to my knees. I crawl across the ground to Myles, hauling him onto my lap, desperately placing pressure onto his wounds to stop the bleeding.
“No, no…”
Gazing up at me, he brings his hand to my face. “I was meant to find you, I wish…” He splutters blood; I hush him.
He reaches his hand into his pocket and shakily pulls out a silver ring. “I was waiting…for the right time.” He takes my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger, my heart thunders in my chest, taking in the red-stained silver ring.
I shout at the spectators, “Somebody help us.”
No one moves; instead, they are frozen in place. This is not the Vendyl I know. The folk of this town would never stand by and watch as someone dies. Where is the community spirit we’re known for?
“Please,” I beg.
“I wanted… the perfect time, you… You deserve that,” Myles croaks, reaching up to stroke my hair. “I wish… more time.” He gasps for breath, and my lip trembles.
“Don’t talk,” I hush him. “There has to be something we can do. Somebody help me. Please!” I screech at the folk standing around me, gawking at our misery.
No one moves, not even an inch.
“I dream…our little cottage…by the…willow tree…” He grunts as he struggles for breath. “I’ll be waiting for you…”
A copper taste dusts my lips as I lean down to kiss him. His chest falls one last time, and life fades from his eyes.