Beyond the Glow

Chapter 4

A wave of panic pushes me forwards, across the room and my hand pushes into the hole in the wall, shoving me into just the scene I had feared. I stand looking down upon Hangar, straddling someone and giving them punches to the face. We are back in the dining room, but the table is overturned and the stand where my lamp usually sits is on its side, the glass casing shattered all over the hardwood floor. 

One of the large floor to ceiling windows is wide open, and cold night air spills into the room. The curtains are ripped, and tatters of the dark fabric rest on the floor. The china cabinet is tipped on its side, and various cutlery and fancy dishes are laying on the floor, some broken. 

My lamp, which must have fallen from the persons belt when they landed was sitting a few feet away, and I reach for it. Gripping the smooth handle and picking it up from the ground. It makes a slight scraping sound as I pull it up, and Hangar turns to me, shock, then grim acceptance at seeing me alive settling on his face. 

His fists are covered in blood, and his whip hangs from his belt. I stare at him, anger and fear waging a war in the depths of my stomach. This man had beaten me, at the command of Cynthia. Hangar stands, blocking the person from my view. Over all the years that Cynthia had had him whip me, he had never spoken in anything other than various grunts. Even now, facing me, he says nothing. His eyes show his confidence, thinking that I won't do anything, that I'm too scared. But he is not my master, and at the moment, she is busy somewhere else. Nowhere near her to keep him safe any longer. 

He uncurls his whip from the loop at his belt, the leather slapping the ground lightly. I don't move. "Fool," I say, "Don't you know the power you're dealing with?" In answer, he steps closer, and I narrow my eyes. Fear and anger battle for control in my stomach. Anger won, and the hand holding my lamp shakes as I lift it. I cradle the lamp to my chest, and close my eyes. Hangar lunges for me, I can hear him running before I open my eyes to see the whip whistling down towards me. 

But as it makes contact with my face, only a faint feeling, like a feather brushing my cheek comes to me. Hangar cries out in pain, across his face a long strip of skin has been split open, from his cheek it trails down to his chin, and reappears in a less deep slash on his chest.  It will surely scar. The whip in his hand faintly glows, and I know my enchantment was a success.

In his anger, Hangar doesn't stop to ponder how I hurt him, instead just jumping forward to lash at me again, this time swiping at my legs, aiming to make them collapse from under me. Instead, the whip wraps itself around his legs and with a final wobble, he falls. Writhing on the ground and trying to unwind the leather from his legs. 

I step around him, hurrying over to whoever it was that he had been beating to a pulp. The person, whoever it was, is unconscious. His face was too swollen for me to see exactly who he was. No time to waste, I darted a look over my shoulder, and saw Hangar untangling himself, he would be free any minute. I needed to leave now. Quickly, I took the belt off the person, who I can now see is a man, and with a quick hope that whoever it was won't get blood on the carpets, I send him into the lamp, he should automatically be healed in there. Hooking the lamp onto the belt, I tie it around my waist and turn to Hangar. 

Hangar has finally untangled his legs, and discarding the whip, stands to face me. He stands where the table used to be, for the first time since I've ever known him, he speaks, a heavy accent lacing the words. "You will not leave this place alive, pretty girl." He growls, pulling a knife from a pocket in his pants, "I was trying to finish the job down there, but I guess it wasn't good enough to let you die on your own."  

I suck in a breath, I need to get out of here; I can't die now, not now that I have someone with me and finally a chance to be free. But Cynthia will never let me leave willingly, and apparently, neither will her devoted servant. He is all that stands in between me and the life I crave, away from Cynthia and her beatings. Sure, I would have to stay hidden till she died, but when that happened, I would finally be able to age normally. I wouldn't be tied to anyone anymore. It was all I wanted.

My hands tighten into fists; one reaching for the lamp at my belt. Hangar sees the movement, and doesn't give me time to arm myself. He leaps at me, and I to dive to the side. Wildly, I search for a weapon, and pick up a large shard of one of the broken plates. I hold it in front of me defensively, but Hangar just laughs at my puny weapon, coming closer. He begins to circle the table, and so do I, trying to stay on the side away from him.

"Well isn't this the cutest thing."

I freeze. Cynthia. Hangar stops moving, and turns to face Cynthia, who lingers in the shadows. Her blond hair glows in the moonlight, and her eyes have a dangerous gleam, and they don't look away from me. "An escape attempt? Why Asra, I thought you liked it here." 

Hangar straightens up, "There was an-"

"Shut up Hangar, can't you see I am busy?" Cynthia cuts him off. "Give me that dagger, than you go wait for me downstairs. I will deal with you later." Hangar hands her his dagger, and starts to leave; although obviously wanting to tell her about the other man, who has, mysteriously enough, disappeared from the room. 

"But-"

"Now Hangar." 

"Yes, madam." Sulkily, Hangar leaves the room. 

"Now for you." Cynthia turns to me, coming into the light a bit more. There's a big red welt on her forehead, and I eye it. What did she do? The shard of plate is still in my hand, and Cynthia's gaze turns to it. "Drop it." Grudgingly, my finger start to jerkily unhook themselves from around the edges of the shard. "Now Asra." The shard falls from my hand and shatters into tinier pieces on the floor. "Good."

Cynthia comes forward, slivers of broken plates crack under her feet as she walks. I start to back away, but Cynthia stops me with one look. She reaches up, and wraps a but of my hair around her finger, playing with it in her hand. I suppress a shudder, back to my show-no-fear state. 

"Where were you hoping to go Asra?" She whispers in my ear, "Everyone in this city knows who you are, I made sure of it. One look from the wrong person, and you'd be right back here, with me." My body quakes, shes right, but is it so bad to hope? My hand strays to the lamp, gently rubbing the side for comfort. 

I can hear it release, but I don't dare to look, keeping my eyes on Cynthia. 

A tear leaks out of my eye, and Cynthia pouts, her hands reach up to cup my face. She brings me closer to her, and touches her forehead to mine. "You'll never be free of me. I will always find you." Then she takes a step back.

Right into the knife of the nobleman with the lock picks.