Dimensions

Chapter 16: The Old King

Written by FuturePresentPast

Horace called for another man, Lewis, who gently heaved Dylan away, and left Carina and I contemplating Horace's bargain.

"But why would he want the crown?" I say to no one in particular, though Carina seems to be listening intently, "I mean, I get the whole 'I want to be a handsome Prince Charming' thing, but he doesn't seem like that sort of person to me. Why would someone just say that unless they want change?"

Carina seems hesitant to speak, and when she does I know why, but I don't mind. "Like your father."

"Like my father..." and as those words slip out, tears follow. For the first time since I found my father dead what seems like years ago, I cry. The tears are welcome though, because this time I'm with one of my best friends, instead of Lady Tavrell trying to be sympathetic when I can tell every tear is fake.

I remember me and Dylan shutting Lord Tavrell and the others in my ensuite. I wonder if they have got out yet.

They must have done... guests had been invited to a banquet that night. Once they found the palace empty, they would surely have found some random servant to search the whole house until they found everyone, of course they wouldn't do anything themselves.

But what if they didn't?

What if they're still in there? What if I killed them?

I can't have killed them- they have water in there, so they only need food, and they can survive three weeks without that.

Anyway- I can't think of that.

I brush the tears from my cheeks, and smile through blurred eyes. Carina wraps her arm around me comfortingly, and doesn't seem to mind when my tears to start to flow again, soaking into her top.

Hours pass in silence, and at some point I shuffle away from Carina and huddle in the opposite corner. I'm not trying to be rude antisocial, I just want to be alone, and Carina respects that. That's why I like her, I think. She's always the first one to stick up for you, but most of all she understands when you don't want to talk, or tell her what's wrong, or just be alone.

For the second time since I woke up in here, the sun sets dull and grey in the west, lighting the room almost enough to see properly just for a few minutes. I take advantage of this to try and look down the dark, damp corridor that leads away from the door holding me in. The faint light shines jus ta bit off the drips running down the walls, illuminating greenish moss growing over the stone, and another wrought iron gate at the end. I guess this leads to the main building, where hopefully Dylan is lying, peacefully sedated while someone fixes him up.

I understand it is a big job, seeing as his bone was even showing through in places, but even so they've been gone for at least four or five hours.

The room is once more plunged into darkness, as the fiery sun dips below the horizon. I fade dozily in and out of consciousness, but remain on the look out for movement in the corridor. I am aware of Carina shifting slightly in her sleep, but she doesn't wake up at all for at least an hour, until we are both woken with a start by the clanging of an iron gate slamming shut.

Dylan hobbles towards us, supported by two crude wooden crutches. His legs are bandages, and finally he is completely clean, with not a spot of blood in sight. Behind him, walked a tired looking Horace. He had evidently done all the medical stuff himself, firstly because he looks absolutely exhausted, and secondly because I can still see the faint stains of dried blood on his hands. Lewis didn't seem like the type to be cleaning up bloody legs and stitching skin over bone. Even in the dim light, I saw him turn green and look slightly faint as he saw Dylan earlier. I doubt he'd have the stomach for something like that.