Age of War

Chapter 14

This living death was not the end of it. Even if she was forgiven and brought back into the light, they had taken something from her that she knew she’d never get back, not without a lifetime of exemplary service. That was the worst thing about all the time she had to think, because now this one thing went round and round in her head, no matter how hard she tried to bury the memory. They took her Cyclops. She no longer had care of the beast she’d looked after and trained for most of her life. She didn’t know who had it now. Not Jonin. He shared this part of her punishment, and she felt indescribable shame that he would lose the prestige and joy of working with his own Cyclops because of her actions. He’d refused to speak to her after the judgment was done. She doubted he ever would again, even if he did get the chance. She was more alone than she’d ever imagined being, and Malick did nothing to assuage that bone-deep grief. It would well up when she was in the darkness, tramping across uneven rocky ground, and sometimes escape as a sob that echoed around whatever nameless pit she was currently traversing. At night, in the small cell down here that was now hers, she would weep for what she’d lost. At first she’d been determined to face her fate defiantly, refusing to give in to misery. That was what they wanted: to break her. She wouldn’t let them. If this was what she was forced to do, she was determined to be the best at it she could be, and then they’d see she was contrite and welcome her back… But no. No one checked on her. No one came looking. She could sit in her cell all day, and no one – not even Malick – would know the difference. This was just an exile, and she had no illusions that it would come to any end but her death, alone and forgotten in the dark.

Time went on, moving unknowably. She slept when she was tired, and ate the food rolled down a chute to them in a barrel each week when she was hungry. The exit from this forlorn realm was up a long, steep flight of stairs. There was no door or gate at the top, but she had no hope of escape – the passage from the stairs led right back to the Circle. She’d be caught, and then what? Death, perhaps, would have been a mercy, but she was still of Atlantis, even if she was reduced to grubbing around its roots, and it was not in her to simply give up. So she trudged onwards, stuck with her thoughts, contemplating a future that looked less and less likely to contain anything but stinking caves with each passing day. It was as she had this gloomy thought that she saw once again the faint glimmer of Malick’s lamp in the distance. She frowned at that. This was not normally one of the places she bumped into him. She raised her own lantern and waited patiently. Normally it took him an achingly long period of time to reach her from across this, one of the largest vaults in the network, but the light was moving surprisingly fast. She felt a moment’s hesitation. What if it wasn’t Malick? She’d fully explored the perimeter and knew there was no exit to any natural caves from here, so no creature besides them would find its way in. After a few minutes, she could make out the shape of the old Keeper though, his pale face nodding blankly in the orange light. He was capering towards her in an awkward run-cum-shuffle and she wondered what was going on.

“Malick?” she said into the darkness.

“Yes…yes…” he mumbled, audible in the titanic void. “Come…must come…”

He stopped a few strides from her and bobbed his head up and down. His eyes were unfocussed and she was never certain whether he was actually looking at her or not.

“Come? Come where? What’s happening?”

“Important…very…” His wrinkled brow creased even further and he looked puzzled and worried for a moment, but then he waddled towards her and took her hand. She was surprised and nearly shouted at him to get off her, but he was already tugging insistently, leading her back across the chamber.

“Malick? Tell me what’s going on, please…”

“See…come and see…important.”

He was always like this. Fragments of sentences. How long since he’d actually had a conversation with someone? He was truly broken. Would that be her eventually? “Slow down, Malick,” she said and pulled her hand free of him. He slowly came to a halt and then peered around in confusion. “I can keep up, Malick,” she said, adopting the same tone she’d have used to talk to a child, “just lead me to whatever it is.”