Kastali Dun
Claire's awareness faded in and out for hours on end, sending her into an abyss of inescapable imaginings. The dreams that accompanied this wakeful state were bizarre, as dreams often are when one is subjected to endless drifting. Some were distant memories, blurred by time, while others were near and crisp, like the crunching of dry leaves.
At first, she dreamt of normal things like helping her mom feed the chickens, going to the state fair with her grandpa as a child, and throwing the baseball back and forth with her dad. Then her dreams took a turn.
She found herself in a familiar place, surrounded by lush green foliage, glowing golden lights, and blue mists. Her bare feet delighted in the softness of the mossy ground beneath her toes. This place was joyous. It was home. The last time she was here, she was deprived of its magic. Now, she would stay.
She made her way through the blue mists of the forest, inhaling deeply, taking in every smell, every sound. The scent of damp earth combined with the smell of flowers overwhelmed her senses, but it was the smell of the wood she loved the most. She was inclined to touch one of the trees nearest her. She felt the energy of the great oak; its living essence thrived within. It was happy, everything around her was. She wanted to stay forever...
"This is your home now," a musical voice said from behind her.
She turned and her eyes widened. "Queen Jade."
"We have been waiting for you, Claire..." The Sprite queen held her arms open.
"You...you have?"
"Of course. You bear the mark of our people—the mark of the Sprites. You are one of us."
"Then...I can stay?"
"Forever, if you wish it. This is your home. Your place is here."
The thought brought warmth. She wanted to live within the roots of the trees, to dwell among the unicorns and flowers, to drink up the knowledge offered by such an ancient people. For a few moments her mind drifted, peacefully. Then a new thought occurred to her, a thought filled with apprehension. "I cannot stay," she said. "I must return. My—my place is in Kastali Dun." She could not leave her friends behind. She glanced around the forest. Speaking of friends...How had she gotten here?
"Well, that's too bad. I am afraid I cannot let you leave, my dear." Queen Jade's voice changed. It grew harsh and hostile. The Sprite Queen's face changed too, melting away and turning ugly. The morphing lasted but a few seconds.
"You see? You can never leave. You will be mine forever, my dear." Kane stood before her now, red eyes glowing an awful shade of blood. His evil hiss sent fear shooting through her body like needles. How was he here? Like this? In her dreams?
"Ah, that is a wonderful question. You see, I managed to collect some of your...essence. You so wisely left behind your blood. You don't remember? That night the Vodar injured you on the plains of Kengr...?"
She remembered and shuddered. Her leg gave a painful twinge where she had been cut by the Vodar blade, but the dream continued.
"My magic allows me to use your blood to haunt your dreams, if I so desire. Come to me..."
"No!" she hissed. "I will never be yours." She turned to run, but vice-like fingers closed around her forearm, restricting her progress. She battled, screaming and pulling against the sorcerer.
Her body gave a jolt and her eyes opened. She found herself battling all the same, but from the ground where she sat. The man who held her tightly was not Kane. "Calm down, lassie, calm down!" He had a gruff voice that rubbed her wrong. A foul-smelling cloth rag was placed tightly over her face. At last, she was forced to inhale its pungent odor. The effect made her suddenly dizzy. Everything around her lurched. The man removed the rag. "Yes, I know. Rather horrid, isn't it?"
"Eh, Collier! Quit trying to woo the lass. It's your turn—or you gunna forfeit yer hand?"
"I'll do as I like, Tark. Mind your own. And yes, you might as well toss my cards. I must be away." Collier then looked over his shoulder to a man standing in the corner and said, "My work here is done, Eagle. I trust you'll uphold your end. You got all you need from me for now." He returned his attention to Claire. "There now, that's a good lass. Lie back and relax..." After that, he walked away and tossed the rag he held upon the card table.
Claire fought against her disorientation, trying to gain control of her consciousness. She sat against a wall, stupidly blinking, working to overcome what felt like a horrible drunkenness. Her mind throbbed and her stomach churned. Her eyes barely worked; everything she saw felt disconnected.
The minutes dragged by in stupor. The dizziness somewhat wore off, but her mind continued to struggle. There were other men nearby—all strangers. They were in a small room, no windows. The floor was dirt. She inhaled once, twice, three times. As the putrid fumes of the rag cleared from her nostrils, she discerned the potent smell of earth. They were underground.
Something of awareness began crawling back to her. Her heart pounded harder, faster. She looked down at her hands. Panic set in. Her hands and feet were bound in twine—her hands in her lap, her feet stretched out before her. A thick gag rope filled her mouth with an awful taste, forcing her mouth open as she clenched it with her teeth. Her first instinct was to scream. She did—several times. She called out to the men to free her, then she cursed them, begged them, and finally gave up.
The men did little more than glance her way. All they had heard was garbled nonsense.
Her stomach sickened. Her skin grew clammy and sticky until she was hot and cold all over and shaking with tremors. She took deep breaths of air; her chest heaved as her body launched into full panic mode. Fragments of her memory began to return.
This was all her fault! She'd been such an idiot! Talon had warned her, hadn't he?
Talon...An image of him swam into her mind, head thrown back, laughing, reliving memories of his adolescent days. Her chest sank. He was going to be so angry with her! She'd never be allowed outside of the keep again, if she ever made it back...
Would she make it back?
In earnest, she began screaming again. She pulled against her bonds, struggling pointlessly as she screamed. The harder she pulled, the deeper the twine cut into her wrists. She was too numb and detached to feel the brunt of the pain.
Her frantic behavior finally earned some attention. "No point in screaming bloody murder with a gag muffling your voice, lassie. No one's going to hear you down here...less you can magically increase the volume. No? I didn't think so."
Magically...Her mind sharpened. The word drew something from the depths of her soul. Magic...Her eyes grew round. Instinct kicked in and she did the only thing that felt right. "Talon?! Talon! Please! I need your help!"
She wasn't sure why she called to Talon when she could have called to Reyr, or anyone else for that matter. Maybe it was because she knew that Talon was the most powerful person in the kingdom. Or perhaps it was because she knew that he would do everything in his control to help her. She was his responsibility, after all.
The force behind her telepathic plea had an immediate reaction. "Claire?"
"Talon..." She inhaled sharply. Her body sagged with relief against the wall behind her. "Talon, it's all my fault."
"What happened? Where are you? Have you any idea how worried I have been?"
"Kidnapped—I was kidnapped. They have me. I can't...I'm scared..."
With Talon's voice in her mind, she was not entirely desolate; that brought a measure of relief. It meant there was hope. Still, her fear clawed at her.
"Are you alone?" Talon asked.
"I...no...there are...there are others—men—preoccupied at the moment."
"Are you hurt?"
Her head began to throb, a sure sign of physical trauma. She was disoriented. Her mind felt paralyzed, as if it knew what was happening but couldn't do anything about it. The rest of her appeared in order. "Not...not badly. I'm okay, I think." She spared him the details.
"Thank the gods. I feared..." The thought went unfinished.
"Talon...I'm so sorry. I disobeyed you. I left the keep. I never told you about my ability to communicate with the Drengr. You must be furious with me..."
"Claire..." There was no anger in his voice, only worry. "All that matters is your safety. Tell me where you are."
Even though she spoke to Talon, she felt each Shield's presence in her mind, soothing, reassuring. Reyr was there, anxious to carry out orders, desperate to find her. Jovari was present too, likely pacing back and forth. She felt Koldis's presence, his anger, his desire to deal justice. Bedelth was the patient one, like a silent giant. And then there was Verath. No doubt he was brooding over the strategy of everything. They were all with her—lifelines to her escape.
She broadcast her thoughts loudly for each of them to hear, including them in her conversation with Talon. "I don't know where I am. I can't..." Her eyes swept the room, vaguely taking in details, too befuddled to make sense of anything. "I can't tell."
"Are you restrained?" Talon asked.
"I—yes, my wrists and ankles. I don't really remember what happened. I took the postern door and got lost in the city. One moment I was staring down an alley and the next..." She glanced around again. "I woke up here."
"What do you see?" Talon continued to walk her through questions; the others listened in.
"I'm underground, I think. There are no windows. The walls are made of dirt, the floor too."
"Are you still in the city? Is it a cellar? There are plenty of those in the city."
"I'm still in the city, I think." Her eyes lingered over various aspects of the room. "Yes, it looks like a cellar."
"Any other details?"
She was about to answer when Reyr cut her off. "Talon, we've got to get her out of there! There isn't time for details. Claire, how many men are there? If you can take them, use your magic to break free. You may be able to reach daylight and call for us. We've got guards swarming the city and Drengr patrolling overhead."
Talon expressed immediate disagreement. "Reyr, it sounds dangerous. Claire cannot fight her captors all at once. What if they harm her? I cannot risk it."
"She is strong, Your Grace." Koldis's rich voice offered reassurances. "She has survived much worse, no?"
As the Shields argued with Talon, Claire counted the men in the room. "There are six. Talon, I think I can take them." She wasn't entirely sure this was true, but it was worth a shot—better than sitting and doing nothing.
There was a long silence—perhaps a deliberation—before Talon said, "Good, sever your bonds, but silently. Do you remember how to make your green fire?"
"Yes, of course...wait! You want me to light them on fire?"
"If you can manage."
Confidence flared up inside of her. Why had she been so worried? If she could take on the Vodar with her magical green fire, she could certainly take on six scummy men.
She focused on her bonds first, attempting to break free. She spoke the magic word for cut, "Bita." Her intent was commanding—more commanding than she had ever been. The word came out garbled and nothing happened. She said it again, fighting the enunciation as she worked her tongue around the rope gag. Still, nothing happened. Was it because she couldn't pronounce the word perfectly? No, that wasn't right. She had learned that Magic could be performed without speaking. It was considered a more advanced form, for which she had no formal training. However, she once did it by accident, hurling Caterina into the corridor ceiling. Maybe it would work this time? Using her instincts, she tried again with the same method as before, but this time instead of speaking the word, she imagined it. Nothing happened.
Fear broke through her confidence. Something was wrong—very wrong. Her body wasn't responding to magic.
"Claire?"
"I...I don't understand. Why isn't my magic working? I spoke the words exactly as I've done time and again—exactly as I was trained."
This was bad—really bad. Without her magic, she was entirely helpless.
There was a long silence before Reyr said, "Do you think it's possible, Your Grace? Could it be poison? Dragon's bane, perhaps?
"What's dragon's bane?" she asked. Red flags—major red flags.
"Claire, did they make you drink anything? Eat anything that tasted odd?"
She tried to focus, to remember. "I...No...I haven't...I haven't eaten anything. Nothing to drink."
"You're sure?"
"Wait..." She fell silent. No one spoke. At length, she said, "Now that you mention it, they made me smell something funny—a man named Collier." She remembered the disgusting stench of the rag. She looked around for Collier; he was missing from the bunch. She did not recall counting him among the six. "He was here. He must have slipped away. I don't..."
"There is no other explanation for it," Talon said. "You have been poisoned. It makes sense, you sound rather disoriented."
"Is it...am I...? Am I going to die?" When she thought of poison, she thought of the Vodar. Poison like that required immediate attention.
"Let us hope not—you are not showing symptoms of pain. That alone is a good sign. Whoever captured you was smart enough to suppress your magic. Thank the gods it did not interfere with your ability to communicate with us."
"Talon, the city has thousands of cellars," Reyr pointed out. "If she cannot use magic, then we need a new plan."
Her body began to tremble again. "So...so you're not coming to get me?"
"Not yet. Not until we can narrow down your location," Jovari said.
"We will find you, Claire," Talon assured her. "I need you to bide your time for now. Can you do that for me?"
"I—yes."
"Good. I will find you. I promise." Talon's words were followed by silence, but he never really left her, nor did his Shields. She could still sense them.
She took several deep breaths and willed herself to calm down. Then she watched her captors and surroundings for any hint that might reveal her location. She listened to their conversations, hoping to overhear something important. Unfortunately, nothing happened for a long while.
As time wore on, she felt herself growing stronger. Perhaps the poison was wearing off, working its way out of her system. The idea gave her hope. If she waited long enough...
One of the men at the table stood up and came over to her. He smelled of booze and piss—a less pleasant alternative to Collier. Her nose stung and she crinkled it. Without warning, he shoved the same disgusting rag over her face. "Collier says every couple of hours, so take a big whiff, lassie. Oh, holding your breath, are you? Well, I'm a patient man. Aren't I, Ben? Aren't I patient?"
"Aye," Ben said. "You's a patient man Tark." The men in the room chuckled.
Claire held her breath as long as she could until her eyes were bulging and her lungs were screaming. The man was relentless. At last she was forced to inhale. She took a deep, gasping breath.
"There now. Not so hard, eh?"
Her body jolted and the world around her tipped on its side. Her stomach twisted. Then she nearly blacked out.
"Be nice to the woman, Tark." An authoritative voice sounded from the corner of the room.
"Talon..." she cried. Everything in her gaze was dark. Her mind felt incoherent, as if on the edge of a dream-like state. "Talon..."
"I am here."
His voice was a candle in her darkness—a reminder that she wasn't entirely alone. "They...they did it again. They drugged me...I'm...I'm scared. My heart is...it's racing."
"Shut your eyes and take deep breaths."
She complied, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths, so deep that her lungs stretched until they complained.
"How does that feel? Better?"
"Yes, a little." Her response was a weak whisper of a thought.
"Good, a little is better than nothing. Now, think of something happy, something to take your mind off your fear. Can you do that?"
"I..."
"Tell me about your home."
"My...my home?"
"Yes, your home—beyond the Gate."
"I...you've never asked me that before." Something of her old personality fought its way through. She smiled. "You really want to know?"
"I do. Yes. Tell me about it."
She kept her eyes shut, allowing her mind to float away until she was soaring over corn fields. "I live on a little farm in a place called Indiana. Every year we plant corn as far as the eye can see. The fields smell like damp earth and the dirt is always squishy beneath your toes. When I was little, I liked running barefoot through the fields." She fell silent for a moment, remembering. "When the tassels on the corn are tall enough, and the sun sets over the field, everything glows golden. You can look out from the porch swing and see all the gold along the horizon, and the pinks and oranges in the sky..."
"It sounds beautiful."
"It is." She smiled again. Her heart felt lighter. Whatever Talon was doing—it was working. "Every Saturday morning, Mom makes the most delicious pancakes."
"Pancakes?"
"I always douse them with butter and syrup. God, they're so good. You would love them. And coffee. You people need to invent coffee already."
Talon's chuckle was audible in her mind.
"Whenever I need to get away, I hide out in my room. It's the best room in the house. It's like a library. The walls are covered with shelves of books. So many books I've lost count."
"Is that so? You like to read, then?"
"More than most things, yes." She missed her books. She missed her parents, her home, her world, everything. Despite that, thinking about home helped. She continued to recount little snippets—whatever came to mind—and Talon continued to show interest. The more she recounted, the better she began to feel. The poison's potency remained, but her mind no longer panicked.
She opened her eyes and took stock of her surroundings, still intent on finding something that might reveal her location. There wasn't much in the room to make it identifiable. Several columns of crates were stacked against one wall, unmarked; big oak barrels were stacked against another. She frowned. Something...some piece of information was dying to break free.
"That's it!" She cried at last, triumphant. Her words came out muffled, but she knew what they meant. It was enough.
"Talon, there are barrels, barrels of alcohol! Lots of them"—she counted as she spoke—"twenty at least."
"A tavern?" Reyr was in her mind again, though he had never really left.
"We visited every tavern and inn last night," Koldis said.
"Yes, but we did not search their store rooms, nor their cellars," Reyr reminded him. "She could be hidden in one."
"Is there anything else, Claire?" Talon asked.
Her eyes darted about, trying to find any other clues. At last, she was forced to admit defeat. "There's nothing else distinguishable. A table in the middle of the room. Nothing is labeled. I can't be sure." A feeling of hopelessness came over her. There were hundreds of drinking establishments in the city—hundreds of underground storage rooms...
"We will obtain warrants for all of them if we must," Verath said.
And so, the waiting continued....
Talon's Shields kept up a regular commentary with Claire as they obtained warrant after warrant and began searching establishments throughout the city. Every so often, Talon asked her more questions about her home—likely to keep her mind occupied. He had just asked for an elaboration regarding automobiles when there was a commotion in the cellar.
The card game going on at the table had just ended. The men stood, stretching and giving each other a hard time. One of them began moving about the room. He collected things in a side satchel. "Morgan and I have business in the city," he said. "Keep an eye on her. We will be back soon." They made for the stairs.
Claire saw the opportunity for what it was and seized it. If someone saw them leave, perhaps she could be traced. "Talon, two of the men are leaving. One is the leader."
"Good. What are they wearing?"
She described their clothing, which was plain at best, and then returned her attention to the commotion in the room.
The remaining four men sat back down at the large table in the middle of the room, taking swigs from a bottle they passed between themselves. "Might as well have another round," one of them said. Another card game began. This one was more heated than the others. Tark was by far the nastiest, always cursing and spewing insults. He must have thought himself a real character.
The longer she waited, the more her hopes fell. If Talon and his men were going to capture the leader and his crony, Morgan, they would have done so already.
As the hours ticked by—there was no way to tell how much time actually passed—the men around the table polished off several bottles and their talk grew dirtier. "I need to piss!" Tark roared, then stood up and made for the stairs. On his way there, he spotted Claire as if noticing her for the first time. A cruel smile came to his face, slowly, deliberately. "What are you lookin' at, lassie?"
She shuddered and averted her eyes.
"Like what ya see, eh? Well don't worry, I'll be back in a mo' and you can have a piece of this."
She glanced up in time to see him gesture crudely. The men at the table catcalled in response. Her fear returned; it left her stomach churning.
"Talon...please hurry."
After a minute, which felt like a lifetime, Tark returned as promised. He walked straight over to her, towering above her. His slimy gaze slid over her, making her cringe. She focused on the floor, hiding her shaking hands in the folds of her dirtied, burgundy gown.
"What do you think, boys?" Tark drawled, still towering over her. "Think we got enough time before Eagle returns?"
She began to tremble. Tears pooled up in her eyes, making the small pieces of straw on the floor blurry.
"I think we got plenty o' time," one of the men at the table said. Two of them stood. The other one watched lazily as if this kind of thing happened frequently.
"Claire?" Talon must have sensed something was wrong, because his voice turned from calm to agitated.
She didn't answer—she couldn't answer. She was too senseless over what was happening, or about to happen.
"What do you think, Ben? You hold her and I'll stick her? We can take turns too, if you like."
In her fear, she glanced up to find Tark's nasty smile. "You'd like that wouldn't you, lassie? One final hurrah before we take you up north? And don't worry, if it's to your liking, you'll have plenty o' time with us during the journey."
"I'll hold 'er steady for ya, Tark, long as I get my turn." The one named Ben walked over to her.
She watched with horror as Tark unfastened his belt. A whimper escaped her lips. Tears began falling down her cheeks. Ben reached down to grab her, and she cowered away from him, crying out. His fingers latched painfully around her arm, pulling her up.
There was a loud thud and then the cellar filled with commotion. Thundering footsteps echoed down the stairs. "Ben! Tark!" a voice shouted.
Both men froze. The harsh hands wrapped around her arm disappeared. She gave a sob of relief and scooted up against the wall, as far away as she could get from the men before her. The leader appeared at the foot of the stairs, followed by his crony.
"What in the gods' hell do you think you're doing, eh, Tark? Ben?"
"Just havin' a little fun, sur," Ben called, as if they'd meant nothing by it. "We weren't actually goin' ta touch 'er." They retreated to the table.
"Clarie?! Answer me. What is happening?" Talon's cries were distant whispers. Her mind stumbled and tripped over reality. "Talk to me. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"
"I...they tried...they were going to..." She couldn't say it.
The king's voice sounded in her mind. She had been oblivious to his previous words. Now his voice was so loud it made her ears ring. Only, he wasn't talking to her, he was yelling at Reyr. "I'm done playing by the rules, Reyr. The people's privacy be damned. I do not have all day to wait for signatures on scraps of parchment."
"Talon...I'm...okay." She tried to calm him down.
"Did they touch you?" Talon said at length.
"I...they...tried. Their leader came back. I take it we're going to need a new plan?"
As she was talking, Eagle walked up with a cup of water and a plate of food, bringing her conversation to a halt. He set the cup and plate down in front of her. The sight of the food made her want to vomit.
"Listen, lassie, if you promise to be silent, I will remove your gag so you can eat." Eagle stood over her. She couldn't stomach food, but she nodded anyway.
Satisfied, Eagle removed the ropes from her mouth before giving her a look of warning. She turned her eyes away from him and sat with the plate on her lap, massaging her jaw.
After gulping down the water, she looked down at her food. It was disgusting—hardly a surprise. When she saw a roach crawling out from beneath the bread roll, her stomach heaved. She turned away from the sight and squeezed her eyes shut.
"The lady is too high to enjoy our kind of food," Tark baited. "Too used to eating at the king's table." He came and snatched up the untouched food. Claire hated Tark more than anyone else in the room, and glared at his back when he retreated.
Despite her addled brain, a spurt of quick thinking lent itself to an idea, which came upon her like a flash of lightning. Using her mind, she mustered all the force she had and gave a great, telepathic shout, "Drengr of Kastali Dun, listen for me!" Then, filling her lungs with as much air as she could hold, she let out a long, ear-splitting scream loud enough to shake the earth walls.
Outside she heard the roar of a dragon, followed by another, and then another. Pain erupted on the side of her face as a fist met her head. Her lip split open, filling her mouth with blood. She refused to cry out. Instead she looked up into the nasty face of Tark and said, "You're going to get it now."
Tark's face contorted with rage. "We told you to behave!" He grabbed her by her gown. Eagle appeared beside them and closed his hand around Tark's wrist. "That's enough, Tark," he said. "Our instructions were explicit. We are not to harm her. Now, you heard those dragons out there? They're getting close—maybe onto us already. We need to split. Wagon's upstairs. Get to packing. You've got five minutes."
The other men in the room had already jumped into action. Eagle turned to her. She licked the blood off her lip just in time. He shoved the rope gag back into her mouth and secured it in place. Not that it mattered anymore. They were kidding themselves if they believed the Drengr hadn't already found them—if they believed they could high-tail it out of there in five minutes and get away unseen.
Tark gave her one final look before relinquishing his hold on her. He turned to walk away then said, "Keep your mouth shut, lassie, or you'll taste a lot more than my fist."
She ignored him, calling to Talon instead. "Did it work?"
"It did, you smart girl! Faedrol heard you! He is flying above you n—"
Claire did not hear the rest. Tark came up beside her and pressed the poison-laced rag against her face. The sickening dizzy feelings were upon her again. She took deep breaths, struggling to breathe. The edges of her vision blackened. The room spun out of view. "Talon..."
"Hold on, Claire!" Talon called. "We are coming for you!"
The last thing she saw in her mind was a strange, detached image from the point of view of a dragon. It launched from the balcony of the king's tower, high into the sky. Beside it was a dragon the color of gold. Then everything disappeared and she sank into blissful darkness.
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