Remnant of Power

Chapter Thirty-two

Yavenna

Yavenna's blood ran cold in her veins as Breanna locked the door. She rolled her wrists, trying to reach the rope ties. She was in trouble now. If the mage came to her tonight, what would happen to her? Would he just ask her questions or would she look in his eyes and vanish forever? And if she couldn't escape, how would she get Mal free?

There was no one who'd come looking for her; Sharva must have been the "little bird" who told Breanna where she was going. And the mage could arrive at any moment. Oh, if only she still had her dagger, there might have been some way of manoeuvring it to cut the rope.

She exhaled. There was no way to get free. What was she going to do?

She suddenly remembered how she'd been feeling stronger for the past year or so. Apart from the man who tried to attack her, she'd had no need to actually use the new strength. She hadn't really tried to test herself, apart from when she threw the rocks. The truth was, she hadn't wanted to test herself, hadn't wanted to find out that something strange had happened to her. She'd just tried to ignore it and forget about it. But now, in fact, it might be the only thing that could help her. Would the strange strength be enough to get her out of this room?

Concentrating on her right wrist she tried to wrench it up from the arm of the chair. The rope burnt into her wrist, and then with a snap, the arm broke off the chair, and left her with the armrest dangling from the rope around her freed wrist. She wrenched the left wrist, this time, the rope frayed and tore. How wonderful! She pulled the armrest free of the rope and bent over to release her ankles. She was left with deep red rope burns to her wrists and ankles, but within minutes she was free from the chair. Now to get out.

Yavenna knew the door was locked, she'd heard Breanna turn the key. She couldn't think how to open it without making a terrible noise. But somehow, she had to.

As she stood there, staring at the door, she heard a scraping sound. Someone was turning the lock. Oh, please no! Despair washed over her like a bath tub being emptied. She'd missed her chance to escape. It was the mage. It could only be him.

She stepped to one side, what should she do? She looked back into the room and saw the broken armrest on the floor, long splinters protruding from one side where it had shattered. She darted to get it. Maybe she could stab him in the face with it. Blood pounding in her ears like a blacksmith's hammer, she stood behind the door, waiting.

Very slowly the door opened. A small white face surrounded by a mass of frizzy auburn hair looked around the edge of it.

"Quick, Yavenna, come on, they'll kill me if they find out it's me that's let you out."

Yavenna was nearly sick with relief. She put a hand either side of Arielle's face and pulled her to her, kissing her in the middle of her cheek. "Thank you so much." She looked her in the eyes. "I won't forget this. Ever." Arielle simply gave her a rueful half-smile, shrugged her shoulders and stepped aside.

Licking a smudge of blood off her wrist, Yavenna stepped out of the room and looked up and down the corridor. There were no guards to be seen.

She ran up the stairs towards Mal's room until just before she reached the top, forcing herself to slow down as she approached the landing. There might still be a guard in this corridor. She dropped down to lie flat against the last few steps and inched her head level with the wooden floor. Then instantly drew it back again. There was a huge group of guards in the corridor outside his room! How could there be? Last night there had been one guard, today there were more than twenty! Ice flooded through her veins. How was she going to get to Mal's room to get him out? There was no way she could sneak past twenty guards. She slumped back onto the stairs. She certainly couldn't fight them all, although perhaps she could've managed two.

Taking a deep breath, she slid back down the stairs on her belly. Chewing her lip, she crawled to a doorway and pressed herself against the door, her mind whirling. She'd kissed Mal. It had meant something. And he was wounded. She bit her knuckle. She would not leave him here. She'd seen what the King had done to him; if he was here much longer the King might kill him. There was no way she was going to risk that. She was going to get him out and then he'd be safe. She would wait. The guards would probably move somewhere else soon.

Heavy footsteps thudded from the other end of the corridor up a different set of stairs. A voice shouted to the guards.

"On high alert now, men. Something's happened with Princess Yavenna. As you know, she's had a breakdown or a delusion. Well, now they think she's trying to run away from the castle. They think she might even be dangerous. For her own safety, she must be stopped and she must be found. Our lives will be forfeit if we don't find her." More thuds. "And they think she might try to come up here first, so while you're on watch be twice as careful. And you stay here till you're told you can go."

Yavenna's heart banged in her chest. He was talking about her. They were looking for her. What could she do?

An image of the King flashed in front of her eyes. She remembered the feel of his fleshy lips on her hand, his hot hands on her arm. If she stayed here now there'd be no way to avoid the wedding. No way to avoid the hot hands. The mage would stay with her till the ceremony. There was nothing she could do. She certainly couldn't fight a mage.

She looked up at the stairs. Twenty guards. All of them looking out for her. There was no way she could get to Mal. The landing in front of her went blurry. The mage was coming for her. She had to leave today.

She tried to think.

The noise of the guards upstairs seemed like thunder in the ancient building.

She didn't know what to do.

She couldn't leave Mal.

Her throat was suddenly dry; she wanted to cough, but she couldn't make any noise. She swallowed. Then her throat clenched tighter as she heard another noise.

A light tap of footsteps coming up from the floor below.

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