Page 28 of Sea of Stars

“Only children dream of monsters in the dark. How old are you?” He implored.

“Sometimes nightmares come to those who know too much,” I said, glaring at my captor.

“You are wiser than you look,” he replied. He studied me and then added, “Why did you not answer my questions when I found you early this morning?”

“It probably had something to do with the blow to the head I received,” I said sarcastically. My chair jumped forwards as I tried to fight my way out of the bindings.

The man whipped out his wooden cudgel from the counter behind him. He had reflexes faster than I had ever seen before. He backed up, laughing. “Feisty too,” he said. He continued studying me as he placed the cudgel back down behind him. “How did a young woman like you happen to be traveling alone?” the old man implored as he took a huge gulp from his cup.

“I wasn’t alone,” I said without pause. “I was traveling with a friend. He had gone ahead to make camp. He’ll be back to find me,” I added.

The old man shook his head the whole time I spoke. “No sense in lying, girly. I’ve been trained to spot a liar when I see one. Now tell me the truth!” His voice had grown angry in a hurry. I cowered away from him as he threw his empty cup next to my chair. The cup shattered, scattering shards of glass everywhere.

“My friend’s name is Lyntel. He will try to find me,” I said, but even I wasn’t convinced by my words. Lyntel was long gone by now. And there was no way he’d know if I was in danger.

The old man grabbed his wooden club from the counter again and pointed it at me. “You are not as wise as I thought,” he sneered. “You are but a childish fool.” He turned his back to me. When he turned around a moment later a smile was on his face. The cudgel looked threatening in his hand. “Please answer my question truthfully,” he said kindly.

I stared at him, very aware of the fact that a mad man was standing before me. “I’m not a child, I'm nineteen,” I said.

“No, no, no,” he replied. He scrunched his face and he closed his eyes as he tried to control his anger. “I meant the other part of the question, girly. Why were you traveling alone in these parts?”

I didn’t know what to say to the man. If he knew for certain I was alone there would be no reason for him not to kill me. Before I could think of what to say the man started walking toward the door. I didn’t have time to waste here. Breghton was already at the castle and training his troops.

“Wait, sir, come back! I need your help! I’m meant to be the next ruler of the kingdom!”

The old man continued walking, and started giggling, the anger completely erased. “More lies. I already heard that excuse a few days ago. I didn't believe it then, and I don't believe it now," he laughed and closed the door behind him.

“Death, death, death,” the words were being repeated over and over. I opened my eyes and saw the old man hunched in a corner staring at me. His wooden cudgel was on the ground in front of him. He had his arms wrapped around his legs and he was rocking back and forth.

“Achates!” called a pleasant female voice from another room.

The old man shook himself out of his daze and stood. The light streaming into the room made the wrinkles on the man’s face more apparent. There were raised lines on his arms, most likely scars from torture similar to mine. He cocked his head to one side and stared at me, just as he had when he had found me in the pit, but this time his eyes were filled with fear.

“Achates!” The voice sounded again.

The old man scampered out of the room

in a hurry, starting to repeat the words, “death, death, death,” once again.

How am I going to get away from this maniac? The sun was just beginning to set. Yellow, rolling valleys dipped and rose as far as I could see. It was just like looking out beyond the Iron Gates, except the grass was dead. The sun streamed into the room and made my eye catch a marking on the floor. I used all my might to try and make my body leap into the air. It caused the chair to jump slightly forwards. After a few attempts I was able to see that a symbol had been written into the dirt floor. It was a symbol that I had seen many times. I looked down at my shoulder and noticed that my shirt was torn. The markings on my body were clearly visible. I gulped. This symbol on the floor was the one that was most frequent on my body. The crazy old man’s words echoed in my head: “death, death, death.”

The human from the tree had said one of the marks on my body meant death. I had chosen not to believe his words. But now a new crazy man seemed to agree about the symbol’s meaning. I began to wonder if two crazy people somehow made a sane person. Achates. For me, the name held no meaning. I shivered. The word death still seemed to linger around me, in the air and on my skin.

I didn’t have time to dwell on crazy men's notions. I twisted my body and flung it backward, trying to maneuver the chair. When I was positioned where I wanted to be, I held my breath and attempted to put all my weight to one side. The chair tilted and fell to the ground with a light thud. Luckily I had landed right where I wanted to. I looked behind me and picked up a shard of glass with the tips of my fingers. I tried to turn it towards the rope, but it slipped and I dropped it back on the floor. After a few more attempts I successfully began to saw at the rope. The edges of the glass were sharp and sliced at my fingers. I focused on my freedom.

Every few minutes I would pause in my work and glance at the door that Achates always disappeared through. My hair had gotten dirty in the ditch I had fallen into, so it was barely helpful at detecting his footsteps. I’d just have to keep looking for shadows beneath the door. When the rope was finally threadbare I dropped the glass and pulled my hands away from each other with all my might. The rope snapped and I brought my hands in front of me. My wrists were red from the burn of the rope and my palms were badly cut. I wiped the blood on my pants as I peered at the ropes binding my ankles.

“Heavens,” a voice cracked. It was the same voice I had heard calling for Achates earlier. An older woman, many years my senior, stood in front of the door. Her hair was a dark gray like Achates, but it was long like all female divinares. She didn't look wiry and strange like Swishel had, so she must not have been quite as old. She wore a deep blue dress with a leather belt around her waist. She held one hand on the knob as if she was going to bolt at any second, but her other hand covered her mouth and tears streamed down her wrinkly cheeks. Her eyes were the same blue as mine.

“It can’t be true?” she questioned.

I looked at the woman blankly. “What can't be true?” I replied. I felt awkward tied to a chair on the floor, talking to her feet. “Can you please untie me?”

The woman shook her head back and forth. “All those innocent divinares...” the lady was no longer asking a question. Her body trembled as she spoke. Her tone was distraught, but not accusatory.

“No, please believe me.” I couldn’t stop the violent sobs that quickly escaped from me. My chest heaved as the sobbing grew. “I have been cursed. I need your help,” I gasped.

“Oh, child,” she sighed. “I fear I do understand.” She still had tears falling from her eyes as she turned and walked out the door she had come, leaving it open behind her.

---