The Fanged Throne

Chapter 3

The walls crashed loudly around Elora; the air had become too difficult to breathe. She lifted her shirt to cover her mouth from breathing in the thick smoke. Her eyes had started to water, leaving long trails down her filthy cheeks. Shouts were rising up from downstairs, she could hear the startled and terrified cries of the prisoners locked in their cells. The clanging of metal against metal meant that the prison guards were fighting back against whoever had attacked them.

A group of prison guards ran past her locked door, their furious and urgent words whispered hints of insurgents and bandits. Throughout the years there was talk about an impending attack by insurgents from the east of Wirenth, they opposed King Ylyndar's heavy-handed oppressive rule. Not many had believed that an attack would ever happen, and now it seemed to be happening.

Desperately, she banged her fists against the door, she couldn't stay in here any longer, the smoke had become too thick and dark. The glass in the window shattered as another loud boom shook the grounds of the prison, this time stronger. Ignoring the door, she ran across the room to the broken window and looked down. The drop was too far, she wouldn't make it. Her heart pounded erratically in her chest as the frustration and terror threatened to swallow her. She needed to get out. Now!

Again, she returned to the door. Using all her strength she rammed her shoulder into the door, over and over again. It barely budged and her shoulder now throbbed. The desperation of the situation clawed up her throat as she fell onto her hands and knees, her vision became blurry. She couldn't breathe.

She wasn't sure how long she had been lying there before an almighty blast had blown open the entrance to her room. Dazed and confused she looked up to see a figure wearing a long dark cloak, her knees cried out as she scrambled onto her feet. Her blood stilled; this isn't an insurgent... Before she could react, the cloaked figure reached toward Elora and she felt their ice-cold fingers wrap around her wrist. The moment their hand made contact with her skin, white-hot pain coursed through her body, arching her back. The pain rushed through her body up to her head in a flash, Elora groaned as she tried to pull her arm away. The pain in her head blossomed and she tilted her head back, trying to get rid of it. Rapidly before her eyes, the room had melted away.

Elora's whole body froze, she now stood in a dark room.

The only light came from a small dirty window high near the roof. The sun cast a warm golden glow into the room. The walls were dark and looked like they were moving. Tilting her head to the side, she studied the wall and thought that it almost looked as if it were breathing. Her foot had stepped forward against her own will, screaming in her head for her body to turn away, she walked up to the wall and pressed her hand against it. A terrible sound begun to fill the room, loud and shrill. It was coming from within, she was screaming. The walls weren't just moving, they were alive. The dark red substance running down the walls was warm and pulsing, bubbling, and gurgling through the cracks in the stone wall. The wall, like a muscle, contracted against her hand. She felt a choking sensation overcome her as the hot, warm metallic smell suffocated her senses. Something cold touched her bare feet. The touch was so jarring and unexpected. She stood frozen as a single black snake slithered over her feet slowly and disappeared into the dark corners of the room. She wanted to follow.

Suddenly a flash of pain tore through her vision, bringing her back to reality. Gasping she fell to her knees on the floor, her hands clutched her head. Fingernails digging into the soft flesh. When the pain had subsided, she glanced up, looking for the cloaked figure. They were gone.

Barely clinging to consciousness Elora pushed herself up and forced herself to move. The shouts of the guards fighting against the insurgents were loud and echoed down the hallway. Urgently she threw off her nightgown and yanked on her pants and shirt, laced up her leather slippers and stuffed the paper and coin into her pockets. This was her chance. Quickly she sprinted down the hallway and the stairs. Some of the steps were completely missing and the walls around them had crumbled, letting in the icy wind. Her foot had missed a step and she went hurtling down the stairs, landing roughly on her side at the bottom in a pile of dust.

Eyes closed in pain; she rolled over onto her back and gazed up into the trembling roof of the prison in a daze. Sitting up slowly, Elora noticed that the distinct sound of fighting swords had silenced. Cries of agony replaced the battle cries; the attackers had left.

But what had they come here for? Not wanting to waste any time she stood up, ignoring the shooting pain from her fall. The smoke from the fire still filled the air and the dust from the rubble added to the haziness of the building.

A group of prisoners entered the hallway and ran past her, bumping her shoulder as they went. She could hear the guards running behind them, shouting at them to stop. Not wanting to get caught, she ran after them. Her feet nimbly stepped over the loose stones on the floor, making sure not to trip. The guards' voices were getting louder behind her as they got closer. Elora searched around the hallway for somewhere to hide, she needed to separate herself from the rest of the escapees. Up ahead she saw some of the prisoners running towards the entrance. Predictable! She scoffed to herself. Unlike the other prisoners, she turned right down another hallway and headed towards the staff quarters. The smoke wasn't as thick in this part of the prison and was visibly empty. Slowing down a bit, she lightly jogged past the various rooms and into the small courtyard at the back of the prison.

Towards the centre of the garden was a small set of wooden benches and tables, their legs wobbly and bent. The far end of the garden had a shed where supplies were stored, a few bare shrubs lay wilting alongside the wall, their arms barely poked through the thick snow. The black night made it difficult to see clearly, but at least it had covered her footsteps in the snow. The door to the supply shed was unlocked, they probably didn't expect any prisoners to be in this area. When she opened the door, a damp mouldy smell hung about the small room. She would wait it out here.

The first warm tendrils of the sunrise poked through the shed's windows woke Elora up from where she slept on the hard ground. Squinting out the window, she saw that the courtyard was empty and the wooden carts that were usually resting against the wall were gone. Perfect! Checking one more time for people, she exited the shed and ran across the garden into the building.

It would be faster if she went through the courtyard and into the stable yard, but it was far too exposed. There would be nowhere for her hide, and at this time in the morning, the place would be crawling with guards looking for prisoners trying to escape through the perimeter walls. No, her best and safest way was to sneak her way back through the prison, using the staff hallways.

Taking a deep breath, Elora swung open the door into the hallway and waited for someone to shout at her. Nothing. As quiet as she could, she made her way down the hallway, her shoes tapped lightly on the ground. Up ahead she heard some prisoners being led up the stairs, they had been caught. Pressed against the wall she waited for them to pass before she sprinted, keeping her head down, through the room. The door to the stable yard beckoned at her in the distance. Glancing behind her once, she hesitated, briefly, then ran as fast she could make her legs move towards the door. Holding her breath as her hand wrapped around the door handle, she pushed the door open.