Ring of Fire (Ring of Fire #1)

Chapter 1

Iam so fucked! Looking out at the dark swells of Dead Man Bay, Scarlen, as she was now known, thanks to her lies, tightened her stomach muscles as another roll of water whiplashed the Warden Kliner, the boat to the notorious prison Horstal Island.

She huddled her chin further into the thin black rain cloak the guards had handed out to the six prisoners sitting starboard side on deck as the rumble in the sky told all the storm had arrived.

The young woman to her side glanced at the two cloaked guards patrolling close by, then at a glass-walled cabin, and Scarlen also had to wonder if they would be ushered inside once the rain fell in full force.

Another boom hit the sky, and spits of icy water sprayed into her weary eyes, sending a flurry of shivers along her spine as something resembling pity burrowed deeper within.

She had no one to blame for her nightmare of a situation but herself, and she wasn’t certain her father would save her.

Surely he would have received word by now.

He must know of her whereabouts. In his defence, she had used someone else’s name when caught stealing food, not thinking a first offence would land her six months on Horstal Island, of all places.

She hoped the rumours of the young offender institution weren’t entirely accurate.

Wide brown eyes holding confidence peered her way as rain flattened the spikes on the orange hair of her neighbour, pressing it against a dark neck. ‘I’m Dionne. Dee for short.’

‘Scarlen.’

‘Which Borough you from?’

‘Borough South. Southern City.’ It was best Scarlen didn’t pinpoint Sevon as her home, as it would be rare for food theft to take place the furthest south. In cities, crime was a little higher. ‘You?’

‘Borough North. Redlands. It’s close to the Borough Mids border.’

One of the poorer Boroughs, far from Scarlen’s life on the warm southern coast where tropical waters flowed and bright flowers grew even in the depths of some of the sandy forests. So much golden sand in the south. So much heat. The magick strong and so old, it was mostly forgotten.

‘First time?’ asked Dionne.

Scarlen nodded, tucking back a tendril of damp silver hair fallen from her plait, the black tip adding an extra drip to her neck on moving. ‘Your first time?’

‘Second. Green Block Two, this time.’

‘I don’t know what that means.’

Dionne glanced at the guards talking to each other. ‘You not heard about Horstal?’

‘I have, but I don’t know how things work there.’

Dionne swiped rain from her nose, the chinking of the chains binding her wrists entering the noise of the wind for a moment. ‘You want a heads-up?’

Scarlen shrugged a little. ‘Do I need one?’

‘Always helps to know things. Why do you think they’re transporting us in the dark?’

Scarlen glanced towards the beacon guiding them to the wharf as its creamy-yellow light flashed through the grim mist. ‘It’s winter, it gets dark early. Didn’t overthink it.’

‘Wrong. It’s so we can’t navigate the bay, like it makes a difference. It’s a two-mile swim in deathly rips to the mainland, and the water is freezing even in summer.’ Dionne held her hands up to show the metal cuffs. ‘These aren’t needed.’

Scarlen looked at her own chains, then over at the lad at the far end of the bench seat. ‘He’s not chained.’

‘See the white ring around his neck? That’s his shackle.’

‘What is it?’

‘An enchanted collar. They’re called Rings. Stops the shapeshifters from changing form.’ She gestured to the blonde girl next to him. ‘She’s got Rings on her wrists because she’s a witch. Can’t do magick with those cuffs.’ A long sigh flowed. ‘Aww, they look young. Bet they’re only sixteen.’

‘They can send you here at that age?’

Dionne gave Scarlen the once-over. ‘You don’t know much about Horstal at all, do you?’

It was a prison. How much was there to know? And seeing how she’d lived most of her life locked up in one section of her home, perhaps the adjustment wouldn’t be too hard.

‘Sixteen to twenty-three,’ added Dionne. ‘Sixteen to eighteen are in Section One. Nineteen to twenty-three, Section Two.’ She thumbed her chest. ‘I’m nineteen.’

‘Me too.’

‘Your first offence petty?’

‘I was hungry, so I stole some bread. Got caught.’

Dionne’s brows knitted as curiosity filled her eyes. ‘That’s unusual. Something like that would warrant you a warning.’

‘The guard who arrested me said the same thing, but the judge had other ideas. Apparently fed up with food theft.’

‘It is on the rise.’

Scarlen had no idea. She’d never stolen anything in her life before that moment. Never needed to. If she hadn’t been pickpocketed of her money, she wouldn’t have been so desperate. ‘So, will I be in Section Two, then?’

‘You’ll be in Green Block Two.’ Dionne paused as a guard walked by.

There was a rule of silence on board, but with the wet gusts howling, not much could be heard the other side of the deck.

‘There are three blocks. Red, Amber, and Green. Green is for low crimes, like yours. I’m a thief as well.

’ She shrugged. ‘Like you, girl has got to eat. And I have a little brother to feed. He’s only twelve.

He’s staying with a neighbour while I’m in here. ’

‘I take it Red Block is for serious crimes?’

‘Yep. Murderers, maniacs, that sort. Last time I was here, there were about forty of them. That block is away from the others. Way more secure. The whole prison houses over three hundred inmates, but it’s never run at full capacity.

Normally around the two-fifty mark, and most are in Amber.

They’ll probably be about eighty-odd in Green, but it won’t seem as much in our block because we’re separated from Section One. Oh, and there are single cells only.’

Scarlen could see the outline of Horstal Island. The massive grey slab of a building flanked by two watchtowers at the front, one with the beacon. ‘Are we separated from the men as well?’

‘The men are in the next dorm, a cross-barred door between us. There is one guard to every ten inmates, the rules are strict, and all males are sterilised on admission.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘It’s only temporary. Things return to normal as soon as they’ve left the island.

It’s just precaution, as sex happens, and the guards don’t want to look after babies.

There’s a witch in admissions, does what needs to be done to the men.

She’s the same one who makes the Rings.’ Dionne gestured at the guard strolling by.

‘And puts lightning into their batons. Hence the name lightning rods. One prod of that thing and you see stars. That’s what they say. ’

‘Do people get prodded often?’

‘Depends on the screw.’

‘What’s a screw?’

Dionne pointed at the guard. ‘It’s what inmates call them.’

‘Why?’

A small chuckle slipped from Dionne, which seemed so out of place on such a dismal journey. ‘You’ll see.’

Scarlen got the impression she didn’t want to see. Inhaling the brine in the air, she tried once more to steady the nausea creeping up each time the waves rolled the vessel. It was a slow and torturous ride, one she figured might be done to add to the agony of what was to come.

With the exception of the wild weather, it was pretty quiet on board, as no one else seemed interested in small talk or any talk. Most heads were dipped, and bodies huddled.

‘I swear this trip will kill us before Horstal tries,’ said Dionne.

Scarlen widened her eyes at the statement. ‘How dangerous is it in there?’

‘Very. But keep your head down, your nose out of anyone’s business, and don’t join a gang. Most of us don’t care about divides, but the gangs are filled with hate for anyone not from their Borough.’

‘There are gangs?’

‘Two, to be precise. One from Borough North, call themselves Flames, and the other from Borough Mids, known as Pirates. Some of the Rebels are in there as well, but they don’t class themselves as a gang.’

She knew all about Rebels. The whole of Zanstonia did, whatever the Borough.

They were known to be against the king, and their leader had been executed last year for trying to kidnap …

well, her. She assumed her father had killed those who hadn’t managed to escape.

Dionne seemed to know a lot. Perhaps she might have an answer. ‘Aren’t Rebels executed?’

‘Some are, depends on their crime, like anyone else, but the law says you can’t be executed under the age of twenty-three, so anyone below that age given the death penalty is sent here.

’ She jerked her chin at the island, then blinked away the rain on her long lashes.

‘Anyone on Horstal Island with the death penalty is hanged in the courtyard on the day of their twenty-third birthday.’

It wasn’t just the chill in the air that caused Scarlen’s body to tense. The thought of knowing that was coming would be terrifying.

‘Last time I was an inmate, there were five Rebels in there. Four of them got caught trying to break into the king’s palace. He arrested them for treason. I got to watch one of them hang.’ Dionne shook her head, spits of water flicking off her hair. ‘That’s not something I’ll ever unsee.’

‘Why did you watch?’

‘You don’t get a choice.’

Scarlen hoped no one was due to hang while she served her time. ‘That’s harsh.’

‘Fucked up, more like. But, hey, that’s Horstal. Wait till you see what else they do to us.’

The skipper yelled something that was lost to the wind, and the guards stepped closer to the prisoners as the Warden Kliner bumped against the wharf.

Scarlen swallowed hard as she stood upon wobbly legs. Breathe, just breathe.

Dionne tapped her hand while the guards weren’t looking. ‘Just remember what I told you, and you’ll be all right. You’re small enough to not stick out like a sore thumb.’ She followed up with a soft smile.