Page 26 of Sky of Thorns

Less time has passed than I thought, considering all that has transpired. I close the window, and turn away, lying down on the bed, pulling the coverlet to my shoulders.

Who knows what trials tomorrow will bring me?

***

A knock on the door awakens me from a dreamless slumber and I sit up, my body tensing in defense. The door quickly opens and a tray scrapes across the stone floor before it shuts again. Sunlight is now streaming through the window. The fire has burned down to embers overnight, and I do not see any logs in the room to feed it. The temperature has dropped, the cold stone biting into my feet as I walk carefully over to the food.

At least they aren’t starving me.

Picking up the tray, I carry it over to the table. Slices of bread, a broth, and a small plate of cheese with fruit are strewn across the tray. There is a stoppered pitcher of which I remove the cork and sniff the contents. The sweet smell of wine reaches my senses, followed by the sickly sharp undertone of valerian.

But it seems they’re trying to poison me into submission.

Used in small doses, valerian root helps with treating insomnia. In larger doses, it can render the victim into a comatose state, or worse. Turning to the rest of the food, I notice all of it has been dusted with a fine powder that I do not recognize. I push the plate away and rub my temples, wishing I had learned more than the basic herb lore.

Resentment pushes me away from the table. I try the door, hoping whoever brought my poisoned meal left it unlocked, but the thick wooden door doesn’t budge. Standing on my toes, I grab the iron bars and peer out. A winding staircase spirals down into shadows.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” I call to the dark, my voice, raspy and dry, echoes off the stone before it’s met with silence. My tongue is dry as sandpaper, my stomach growling in protest. When was the last time I ate? A person could last for some time without food and water, the body turning to its stores for energy. Gazing down towards my slender body, I gently prod my bony hips that protrude through the thin fabric of my dress. After two weeks of lean rations on the road, I have little reserve left.

The wooden tub catches my attention in the corner of my periphery, and a smile tugs at the corner of my lips. Without food, a person could fast and live for a couple of weeks. Without hydration, a person could only survive up to a few days. Luckily for me, they unwittingly left me with my greatest necessity untampered.

Repeating Alice’s motions, I pull the wooden beam down, then pull on the chains. I let out a small whoop of victory before cupping my hands and bringing the water to my lips. I greedily gulp at the liquid, filling my aching belly and thirst. A tug at the chain stops the flow and I discreetly push the wood back into place. My body craved more, but I knew if I drank too much too quickly, I would only make myself sick.

I don’t want to know what the punishment is, should I not appear to look like I was adding nourishment to my body, so I push the food carefully around my plate and dump the liquid down the tub’s drain.

***

Hours pass as I watch the trail of the sun move across the floor. I wish I had more than an ounce of my magic. Not that it would do me any good. Just as I am powerless in this mortal body, I would be just as powerless in my mystical equine form, trapped in this locked tower. If only I could turn myself into a bird, then I could fly far away from this nightmare.

The sound of the lock turning whips my head to the door, but it is only Alice and the guard from last night. His tall frame blocks my exit, his eyes watching my every move as I push myself up from the bed. Alice sets a tray with roasted meat, potatoes, vegetables, and dark brown bread on the table along with another corked jug. She frowns at the still full plate from this morning.

“Unicorn, you must eat more,” Alice states matter-of-factly, then frowns taking in my thin form. “You are too thin and you need your strength.”

“I need to leave and return home,” I reply, meeting her glossy stare. My stomach twists with hunger as the scent reaches my nose. I dare not throw the accusation of poison around. They don’t need to know the extent of my knowledge.

She turns away from me and grabs a stack of wood from the guard’s arms, carefully arranging them in the fireplace. With a snap of her fingers, there is a buzz of magic in the air before a blazing fire roars to life.

“The queen will be displeased.”

“She cannot keep me here forever,” I protest, bunching the fabric of my skirts in my hands. “I’m a healer, I have a life duty to fulfill.”

“The queen has plans for you. Your duty is now to serve her. Eat. You will need your strength.” At her words, she grabs the old tray and heads out the door, the guard locking it behind her.

“Wait!” I jump and run to the door, banging against the bars with my fists. “Please.”

They ignore my pleas, continuing down the steps into the darkness. I slump against the wood. Hot tears spill down my cheeks as the silence once again creeps in.

Aramis

NeroandIrideside-by-side in silence as we canter towards Larnwick. A group of soldiers follow behind us with wagons for prisoners and arms to defend the town. According to the guards, the King has sent a troupe to Larnwick already during my absence to inform the people of the incoming danger and protect them. I am only glad Edmund stayed in Shadowvale this time around. He needs to regain his strength and allow his wounds to fully heal. A familiar pressure constricts my chest as I prepare myself for what I will find once we reach our destination.

Thanks to Kieran’s vision, we have a time advantage of two days. Once we reach the town by nightfall, we will set up our defenses and prepare a trap for the rebels, but our plan can only work if the seer’s prediction is accurate. Worst-case scenario, we will reach Larnwick and be welcomed once again by death and destruction. Not as the saviors we should be, but merely there to help with the consequences of the attack.

Memories of the ambush that destroyed Astrakane still haunt me. The seer had foretold of an impending attack that would result in our citizens being ambushed. To prevent this, we decided to arrive a week early. It was only a three-day ride southwest of Shadowvale, so we made the necessary arrangements. However, when we finally arrived in the city, a pungent smell of smoke and burning debris filled the air. The sight that awaited us was nothing short of heart-wrenching. Half of the buildings had been reduced to smoldering ruins, all valuables had been taken, and half of the town’s population, including shifters and elementals alike, had been slaughtered. As we watched the chaos unfold before our eyes, a feeling of hopelessness and despair overwhelmed us. It was as if the gods were playing a cruel trick on us.

What sort of evil creature would kill their own kind and take off with the spoils?

Bile burns in the back of my throat at the memory of loading the surviving shifters into wagons to be questioned. Memories of tears streaming down their faces burn in my mind. It’s not the most desirable outcome, but it is necessary. Ever since the first attacks, Shadowvale’s security council has deemed it safer to capture all the remaining shifters found at the towns and villages ransacked by the rebels and take them to the capital. There, everyone undergoes a trial to uncover potential rebel sympathizers and spies, but blinded by my own hatred for the shifters, I never stopped to consider just how many prisoners were eventually deemed guilty by the royal court. But how could the shifters be both the attackers and the attacked? My theory of the possible existence of two rebel groups comes back to me.

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