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Chapter 48: Story 15; Shattered; Part 7

  They came for her at dawn. Not to her cell this time—somewhere different. Maybe Theron thought a change would unsettle her.

  The Inquisitor's quarters were warmer than her cell. The morning sun streamed in through the window, brightening up the room and blinding her. The chair—simple wood, bolted to the floor—faced away from the window. Almost comfortable if she ignored the fact that she was a prisoner. It'd felt like months already but it couldn’t have been that long, could it? Lack of sleep and minimal food made it hard for her to keep track. And the constant questions at any hour of the day or night.

  The bruises were fading to yellow-green, at least. But the shoulder was still wrong when she moved it, the ribs still stabbed when she breathed deep, and the bone-deep aches hadn't lessened at all. Sleep—what little she was allowed—was uncomfortable. Everything else made it worse.

  Theron sat across from her, hands folded on the small table between them. No instruments of torture. No threats. Just patience, worn like a well-fitted coat.

  "Let's try again," he said. His voice carried the mild tone of someone discussing the weather. "Your name?"

  Silence.

  "Where you're from?"

  Silence.

  "The nature of your mission in Eldmere?"

  Seren stared at the wall behind his left shoulder. Stone. Grey. Solid. She could focus on that.

  Theron nodded, as if she'd answered. "I understand. Your determination is admirable." He stood, moved to pour two cups of water from a pitcher.

  "You're thirsty, I expect." He set her cup beyond her reach—the bindings would prevent her from getting to it even if she tried.

  She was. Her throat felt like sand. The water might as well have been on the moon.

  "As you prefer." He drank from his own cup, acting as if she had a choice to take the sip she needed. He returned to his chair. "I have time. Do you?"

  The question hung in the air, deceptively gentle.

  "Your friends are still in the city," Theron continued. "My people are searching. Methodical. Thorough. We'll find them eventually. The cockatrice is particularly distinctive. The hyena as well. Even the young man—he performed in the market yesterday, I'm told. Drew quite a crowd before some local thugs took his earnings and beat him."

  Seren's fingers twitched. She caught it, stopped it, but too late.

  Theron's pen moved across parchment. "The young man matters to you."

  Damn it.

  "They all do, I suspect." He set the pen down, leaned back. "You're the protector. That makes you predictable. Perhaps after we catch the young man, or the cockatrice, you'll be more cooperative."

  Seren met his eyes then.

  "Am I wasting my time?" Theron smiled—small, professional. "I don't think so. I've already learned quite a bit. Your silence is... eloquent."

  He stood, moved to where Stormdrink lay on the floor as if discarded.

  Lying there. On the floor. Like trash.

  Seren's jaw tightened. Her blade—that Masaru gave her—just dumped on the cold stone. Theron knew it bothered her. That's why he did it. Disrespected. Discarded.

  The blade was straight and proud when Theron touched it. Like a sword should be. Then it turned limp, like wet leather, offering no resistance as he closed his fingers around the hilt and lifted it.

  "This weapon fascinates me." He turned it in his hands. "Rigid and responsive in your grip. Completely useless in mine. I've never seen anything like it. Where did you acquire it?"

  Silence.

  "How long have you carried it?"

  Silence.

  "What happened during the fight?" He'd asked this before, but reminding her of the events that led to her capture would increase her guilt. Make her question her ability as a warrior. Lose her confidence. All these little things were things he reminded her during their torture sessions. "I saw the accidents. Guard after guard. Perfect technique on your part, yet not one killing blow landed. Were you cursed? Unable to kill despite your training?"

  Seren's jaw tightened.

  "Or perhaps..." Theron's finger traced the blade's edge. "Perhaps the curse isn't yours. Perhaps it's the sword itself." It’s the first time he suggested it could be her sword.

  He set it down, returned to his chair. Picked up his pen.

  He made a note, then looked up. "The administrator works hard, you know. Benjamin. Signing so many documents. Trade agreements. Church installations. Military transfers. He barely sleeps."

  The name hit like a fist.

  Seren went very still. Too still. Her eyes fixed on the wall, but something shifted in her breathing—just for a heartbeat, just the smallest catch.

  Theron's pen stopped moving.

  The silence stretched.

  "Ah," he said softly. "There."

  Seren cursed internally. She hadn't said anything. Hadn't moved. Just that tiny, involuntary reaction to Benjamin's title.

  Theron leaned forward, eyes sharp behind the mild expression. "Not just any mission. You're here for Benjamin."

  She forced her face neutral. Too late.

  "How interesting." He tapped his pen against the parchment. "You arrived when Jorvan consolidated power. I know your ship—this is no secret to me. You attempted palace infiltration—multiple times. And now..." He smiled. "Now I mention the administrator, and your entire body language changes. You care about him."

  Seren said nothing.

  "Or perhaps..." Theron's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it’s something else. Regardless, I suspect whatever you’re up to has to do with him."

  He stood, moved to the door. Stood there for a time then he turned back to Seren. "Thank you for the conversation. Most enlightening."

  The door closed.

  Seren sat alone in the warm room, staring at her treacherous hands. She hadn't said a word. Hadn't confirmed anything.

  But Theron had gotten exactly what he needed.

  And now Benjamin was even more isolated than before.

  ***

  The cave kept the rain off. That was about all Kith could say for it.

  Cold. Damp. The fire—such as it was—produced more smoke than heat. Wet wood, because everything was wet now. It had started raining yesterday and hadn't stopped.

  Dain crouched by the stream outside, trying to catch fish with his bare hands. He'd been at it for an hour. Caught nothing. Would catch nothing. But hunger made people do stupid things.

  Pip sat wrapped in Dain's cloak by the smoky fire, shivering. Her clothes hung nearby, still damp from when she'd fallen in the river yesterday. Trying to catch fish. Same stupid idea, different person.

  She'd been shivering all night. Might be getting sick. Probably was getting sick.

  Cocky huddled in the back of the cave, feathers fluffed against the cold. He hadn't spoken in days. Just stared at nothing.

  Prattle perched on a rock near the fire, unusually quiet. Even the bird had run out of things to say.

  Kith watched Dain's hands dart into the water. Miss. Again.

  They'd left the city a few days ago. A farmer had chased them off his land with a pitchfork, shouting about thieves and vagrants. They'd run. Found this cave. Thought maybe they could survive out here.

  They were wrong.

  At least in the city there were buildings. Walls. Places to hide that weren't actively trying to kill you with cold and damp. But it still tried in other ways.

  "Maybe we should go back," Pip said quietly. Her voice was hoarse.

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  "To what?" Kith asked. "Guards? Starvation? At least here we have..." She looked around the cave. "Rain. Cold. Wet wood. Tremendous."

  "Maybe we should've told the eels we were leaving," Dain said, giving up on the fish. He walked back to the cave, hands empty, dripping wet.

  "How?" Kith asked. "We hadn’t seen them in days to tell them we were leaving, remember?"

  "They could still find us," Pip said quietly.

  "If they know to look," Dain said.

  "But they don't know where we went." Cocky added, finally speaking for the first time in days. He sounded utterly defeated. Not like a king without a crown. A bird who’d given up all hope.

  Silence.

  No. They didn't.

  Dain sat by the fire. He was soaked. Everything was soaked.

  "I'm cold," Pip whispered.

  "I know." Dain pulled the cloak tighter around her. He'd be cold too now.

  They sat in silence. Rain hitting on rock outside hard and fast. A drenching rain. The fire crackling weakly.

  This was it. This was how they'd end. Not captured. Not executed. Just... slowly dying in a cave because they were too weak and too stupid to do anything else.

  Movement in the stream.

  Kith's ear moved toward the sound.

  An eel surfaced. Pale in the grey water.

  "I found you." The eel's voice was clear, matter-of-fact. "Took some effort. You've moved quite a distance from the city."

  Kith moved to the cave entrance. "Keen?"

  "Correct. I've also secured assistance." The eel circled once, efficiently. "A nightmare. She's bringing food."

  "A nightmare?" Kith asked.

  "Carnivorous equine. Consumes carrion primarily. I explained your situation. She agreed to help."

  Heavy footsteps. Something large approaching through the rain.

  Kith tensed.

  The rain... stopped.

  Just stopped.

  A horse appeared at the cave entrance.

  Black coat, soaked from rain. Pale eyes that caught the dim firelight wrong. Massive bat wings folded against its sides, dripping. A horn like a rhino's low on its forehead.

  The creature shook itself. Water flew everywhere. The weak fire hissed and smoked as the droplets landed.

  Then she dropped something at the cave entrance. A rabbit. Very dead.

  Pip made a small sound. Pressed back against the cave wall.

  Dain froze.

  Cocky's head came up.

  Prattle ruffled his feathers. Said nothing.

  "Everyone," Keen said from the stream, "this is Petunia."

  The nightmare horse dipped her head politely. "Nice to meet you all."

  Nobody moved.

  "The rabbit," Petunia said, nudging it forward with her nose, "is for you. It is fresh."

  "I'm Kith," Kith said, finding her voice.

  Dain moved forward slowly. Picked up the rabbit. Still warm. "Thank you" he said. "I'm Dain," he said quietly.

  "You're very welcome, Dain and nice to meet you Kith."

  Pip coughed—wet, rattling. Petunia's ears swiveled toward the sound immediately. Her pale eyes focused on the child wrapped in the cloak by the smoky fire.

  "And you are?" Petunia asked gently.

  "Pip," the girl said, voice hoarse.

  "Nice to meet you, Pip." Petunia's tone softened. "You sound unwell."

  "She fell in the river yesterday," Kith said. "Been shivering ever since."

  Petunia studied Pip for a long moment. Then looked at the rest of them—soaked, skeletal, desperate.

  "I'll be back," Petunia said. Not a question. A statement. She turned, then paused. Looked at Cocky, who'd been silent in the back of the cave. "I didn't catch your name."

  "Cocky," he said quietly.

  "Nice to meet you, Cocky." She nodded once. "Keen will check on you. If there's anything urgent, let him know."

  Then she walked away—didn't fly, just walked. Her hooves silent on the wet ground despite her size.

  They stared after her.

  "Did that just happen?" Dain asked.

  "Affirmative," Keen said from the stream. "Petunia is... thorough. She'll return."

  Kith looked at the rabbit in her hands. At Pip, who'd stopped shivering quite so hard—maybe from hope, maybe from shock. At Dain. At Cocky, who was actually standing now.

  The rain had stopped.

  A nightmare horse had brought them food. And promised to come back.

  "We eat," Kith said. "Now."

  Dain was already moving, pulling out his knife. "We don't have a pot to cook it in."

  "We have fire," Kith said. "We'll manage."

  For the first time in days, Cocky spoke. "That was... unexpected."

  "Petuna is a good sort," Keen said. "I anticipated skepticism regarding a carnivorous horse. Your reaction was better than I expected."

  "You did well," Kith said, looking at the eel. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome. I'll be back this evening."

  The eel slipped back beneath the surface.

  They worked quickly. Skinned the rabbit. Spitted it on a stick. Held it over the smoky fire.

  It wasn't much. But it was something.

  And the rain had stopped.

  ***

  They were sucking on the bones chewing on the gristle when Sleech arrived.

  The older eel surfaced in the drain with deliberate slowness.

  "Newsss," he said. His voice was measured. Careful. "Big newsss."

  Dain looked up. "What news?"

  "Ship comesss. Black Ballad. Merren-man returnsss."

  Silence.

  Then: "What?" Cocky stood. "Merren's back?"

  "Yesss. Eelsss at docks report. Black ship. Tall-man on deck. Coming to harbor. Coming now."

  Dain's hands started shaking. Not from weakness this time.

  Cocky made a sound—half cry, half laugh.

  "How long?" Kith demanded. "How long until they dock?"

  "Soon. Very soon. Before dark."

  Merren was back.

  With Ink.

  And presumably—hopefully—with hope.

  Kith looked at her companions. At the rabbit bones they were too desperate to give up on yet. At Cocky, who was standing now for the first time in days.

  Two miracles in one day.

  Food.

  And Merren returning.

  Maybe—just maybe—they could survive one more day.

  ***

  The guards were bored.

  Seren could hear them through the door. Two voices. Garanwyn accents.

  "...been standing here for hours. Watching two locked doors."

  "Orders are orders."

  "For what? The woman doesn't talk, the administrator doesn't move. Neither of 'em are going anywhere."

  "Theron said—"

  "Theron's not here. He's down at the docks. Something about a ship coming in."

  A pause.

  "So... break?"

  "Just for a bit. Get some food. We'll be back before anyone notices."

  "If we get caught, I’m blaming you."

  Footsteps. Receding. Down the corridor.

  Silence.

  Seren sat very still. Listened.

  Nothing.

  The guards were gone.

  Administrator. Benjamin? Surely!

  She stood carefully. Moved to the wall that separated her cell from the next. Pressed her ear against the cold stone.

  Silence.

  Then—breathing. Someone was there.

  "Hello?" she said quietly.

  The breathing stopped.

  "I know you're there," Seren continued. "I can hear you."

  A long pause. Then: "Who are you?"

  A man's voice. Tired. Cautious.

  "My name is Seren. I was captured trying to get a message to the administrator. Is that you?"

  Another pause. "Yes, I'm Benjamin. That's me."

  Seren's breath caught. The administrator. Right next door.

  "I know who you are," she said. "I have something to tell you. Something important."

  "What?"

  "King Cocky is alive."

  Silence.

  Then she heard his shaky voice, "What did you say?"

  "King Cocky. The cockatrice. He's alive. The hyena didn't kill him—it was staged. Kith was helping him fake his death so he could save Eldmere. He's hiding in the city with friends. He's alive."

  More silence. Longer this time.

  When Benjamin spoke again, his voice was different. Stronger. "You're certain?"

  "I'm traveling with him. With Kith. With others. We've been trying to reach you. To tell you. But Theron caught us. Not us, sorry, just me."

  "I see." She heard him moving. Sitting down, maybe. Processing. "That's... that changes things."

  "He needs you," Seren said. "That's why we kept trying. He needs his administrator. The people need both of you."

  "Where is he? Is he safe?"

  "Hidden. Safe for now. Well, he was when I was caught anyway. My friends are protecting him."

  Benjamin laughed—short, bitter. "And here I thought I was alone. That there was no hope."

  "There's hope," Seren said firmly. "We sent an ambassador to Caladwyth and Vyrden. He's trying to get help."

  "How do you know this?"

  "Because Cocky sent him."

  "Thank you. For telling me. For trying to reach me. For—" His voice caught slightly. "For letting me know I'm not alone in this."

  "You're not alone," Seren said. "None of us are."

  Footsteps in the corridor.

  "Guards," Benjamin whispered.

  They both went silent.

  The footsteps passed. Kept going.

  False alarm.

  "They'll be back soon," Benjamin said quietly. "We don't have much time."

  A pause. Then: "How are they treating you?"

  "Like you, I imagine. Thin soup. Questions. They wake me at random."

  "Me too." There was something in his voice - understanding. "The interrupted sleep. Don't let it break you. That's what they want."

  "I know, but—"

  "Just rest when you can," Benjamin said. "Your body will catch up. The stress about not sleeping - that's what breaks you. Not the actual lack of sleep."

  Seren was quiet for a moment. A weight lifted. "You're certain?"

  "I'm certain. I've been managing it for weeks."

  "Thank you," she said quietly.

  More footsteps. Closer this time.

  The guards returning.

  Seren moved back to her pallet. Sat down. Made it look like she'd never moved. Not that it would matter, she was behind a door.

  The bolt scraped. The door opened.

  The guards looked in. Saw her sitting there, same as they'd left her.

  The door closed again.

  Seren lay back on the thin pallet.

  Now Benjamin knew Cocky was alive.

  Seren lay back on the thin pallet. Benjamin's words echoing in her mind. Just rest when you can.

  She closed her eyes.

  For the first time in two weeks, sleep came easily.

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