Page 12 of The Jester

A series of tiny fizzing noises fill the confines of our enclosure. “Something is stopping it,” says one of the elders. “Dark magic. It is thick in this place. Can’t you all feel it?”

“Yes,” says Rawk. “I feel it.”

“And all this time we thought traders were the stuff of story and legend,” the elder replies. “We were blind. Arrogant. Stupid.”

“Enough,” Rawk mutters. “Lamenting our failings will not set us free.” He might not be an elder yet but, in this brief moment, he almost sounds like one.

There is a long, heavy silence as the weight of our situation settles in the air. Then the wagon – for I assume it’s a wagon we’ve been loaded into – jolts and begins to move.

“What about Alana? She was with us,” Kayan says quietly.

“I’d have thought you’d relish in the idea of her meeting her end on a night like this,” Rawk replies. I can hear the bloodlust in his voice. “A bittersweet irony, no?”

“No,” Kayan bites back. “I would not relish in it, Rawk.”

“Ohhh, Kayan. Always so righteous. Even though you are nothing but a shell. Lesser than even a Shadowkind fae, these days. Utterly, pathetically, useless.”

“Please . . .” I speak without meaning to. “Stop.”

There is a pregnant pause, and then Kayan says, “Alana?”

“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”

“You left your cabin?” Rawk asks, as if only just realising that Kayan said he and Rosalie were with me.

I hesitate, fear burning hot on my cheeks. “Yes. I left.”

Rawk lets out a loud laugh, like a clap of thunder. “Of course, you did. Probably led them to us.” Even with my gates up, I can feel the vitriol in his seething muscles.

“I would never –”

“Quiet.” Rawk’s voice fills the entire wagon. “Shut your fucking mouth, and let me think of how to get us out of this.”

I press my lips together. I am desperate to remove my mask, and my gloves, and to see what is happening. But I can’t. I am bound, like the others, and the collar around my neck makes me feel like I can’t breathe.

Tonight was supposed to bring me freedom. A few short hours ago, I was free. I was soaring above myself, feeling the most alive I have in years.

But now it is all over.

“Did anyone see a stranger tonight? He was wearing a blood-red mask.” I raise my voice, ignoring Rawk’s instruction because here – now – he is not my superior. None of them are.

No one replies.

“Someone must have seen him. He wasn’t from our village. At least, I didn’t recognise him.” Still, no one replies. It is as if I haven’t spoken. As if, even now when we face the same horrible fate, I am still a pariah.

“I didn’t see him,” Kayan whispers. “Do you think he had something to do with the raid?”

I shake my head, even though no one can see me doing so. “No, I just...” I screw my eyes shut in the darkness and try to bite back the tears that are rising in my throat. “He disappeared in the chaos and I’m worried, that’s all.”

“We’re all worried about someone,” snaps one of the older women.

“Does she still have her gloves on?” mutters someone else. Then to me, “Do you still have your gloves on?”

I shift uncomfortably. My wings throb and my shoulder aches from being pinned at a strange angle. Even now, when we are in the grip of a hoard of fae traders, they are afraid of me.

“Are you all right?” Kayan asks quietly.

An ironic smile curves the corners of my mouth. “I have been thinking about tonight for so long,” I sigh. “I thought I finally had a chance to escape from myself.” I shake my head, my neck aching, and stare at the pitch-dark insides of my prison. “Seems I’ve managed to do the opposite – I’m trapped here with the very worst version of myself. The version they all see.”

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