Page 101 of Hearts of Stone

Where was I?

I’d been fighting on the parapets of Tonbury Castle, that was the last clear thing I remembered, beating back the English hordes as they tried to overwhelm my master’s demesne. My axe had sliced through the air, taking off the heads of many an enemy, my lord’s men shouting with glee in response. I’d snatched a war club from the hands of a big beast of a man,and used that with my other hand, smashing into skulls. I was a warrior, a fighter, used to the stink of blood and piss and shit, fragrant when mixed with the smoky scent of the fires burning in the fields. It was the wild scent of battle, which was my entire purpose, but as I blinked and stared around me…

Why was I here?

“Wulfstan…”

I stumbled forward, the clang of fetters hanging from the bars of my cell sending me jerking back, because there were more memories to be found there as well, ones I shied away from. But doing that sent me careening into a room that stank of stale blood and rusted metal. I saw devices there that had been used for pursuits no living creature should witness, and as my eyes flicked around the room, I remembered it all. Such casual cruelty, such pleasure gained from other’s torments and I… I had performed every savage rite. The blood on my hands now wasn’t that of a foe met on the battlefield, but of weak creatures trapped in a cage like a rat.

As I was.

“Wulfstan…”

My head jerked up then, as I heard her voice, calling my name, summoning me forward and out of this hellhole. I went gladly. It was a strong rope, thrown out for me to catch in this shifting sea of horror. I stumbled out of the room, into the main foyer of Z Ward, the name of this place, its purpose coming back to me all over again, because that was my curse. I dropped down deep into the stone each time the sun rose, because I didn’t want to surface again. I wanted to stay an immobile carving, dead as stone, rather than face this again.

“Wulfstan…”

It was her voice. Not just any woman’s, but hers… Her name was on the tip of my tongue, ready to be said, if I could just… Instead I walked into the courtyard that surrounded thebuilding, and the irony that a winged creature of my power was being kept locked down in an open space hit me hard. Because as I looked up at the moon and all its stars, I knew what would happen if I took flight. A great crackling net of electricity would make my muscles jump on my bones, my wings spasm and falter and I’d come crashing down.

Again.

“Wulfstan…”

She wasn’t here, not yet. My keen eyes searched the beautiful grounds of the estate to no avail. In The Eyrie there was only one room lit up. I saw silhouettes move, shadows that seemed to shift and dance around her.

Was she the one that had called me forth?

I struggled to remember, my broken brain producing only tiny fragments. Soft eyes, softer hands and a body that fit against mine like a key in a lock. My wings moved instinctively to surround her and keep her safe, even though she wasn’t there.

But she was.

When I breathed deep, I caught a tiny waft of jasmine on the breeze, and it seemed familiar. As I stood, trying to make connections between memories and sensations, something else altogether happened.

Every bird went still and quiet. It felt like the world was holding its breath. Even the far-off noise from the street died away. I looked back at the house for clues, but saw nothing untoward. And then it hit. An invisible hand shoved itself into my chest, sending me spiralling back, my wings flapping wildly as I tried to keep my feet. But this was no breeze to merely buffet me around, this was a silent force that would not be denied. It punched right into me and had me falling back on my arse.

When I rose again, I was an entirely different male.

I shook my head to dislodge the ringing sound that had started up, but once I got all the way to my feet, it was gone.

All of it.

I blinked, then blinked again, seeing the building as if for the first time. I saw the cracks between some of the bricks, zig-zagging along the wall and had a memory of when they were laid. Luther Whiteley had commandeered a massive team of bricklayers to work through the night to build the place rapidly, and I’d watched their progress from the roof of the main house. I looked at the flaking white paint on the gates, two spots worn back to the metal from where my hands had gripped it over and over. I looked down at the concrete floor, and I knew that it had once been kept meticulously clean by a silent crew of cleaners who came in during the day, for that was when Z Ward was at its quietest, when the inmates were left to sleep off whatever had been done to them. But as I looked at the now dingy floor, another memory came to me, one that was more crisp and clear than any others.

The master’s face as he dragged himself across the floor. Or was that me? People who visited the ward thought that I was a sculpture commissioned for the master’s vanity, because our faces were identical. I stroked my jaw. Had I always looked like this? Asking a question now actually resulted in my mind working more logically, but as I searched for the truth in its archives, I knew I would come up with nothing.

Because I was not complete.

It was as if I could see the entirety of my own mind now, and that made clear the gaps. The horror of living in this place had masked them before, but not anymore. I was no longer lost in memories of past torture. I was something I hadn’t been since the first morning I’d gone to stone.

Free.

I strode forward, wings outstretched, eyes scanning the walls and the gates and everything else, searching for signs of the wards that had been cast over the building to keep others outand me in. I gave my wings an experimental flap, the muscles woefully weak, then leapt into the air.

I experienced just the briefest moment of elation, when I felt like I would make it out of my cage, but the intricate web of wards came to life with a crackle, electrifying my body, sending me crashing back down.

My failure didn’t deter me, because as I watched the wards flicker in and out of view above me, I saw where some were thin and weak and others were strong. My legs coiled under me, somehow feeling stronger as I tried again.

“Wulfstan…”

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