Twisting Every Way

Chapter 18

He took five long strides to meet them, kneeling next to Felix.

"Not dead," he said in a soft voice just above a whisper.

"You were almost out too," he added, hefting Felix into his arms. He loped off, not waiting to see if Emya would follow. More afraid of losing Felix than this stranger, Emya scampered after him.

"Who are you?" she asked, jogging to keep up with his long stride.

"Artyem. I am one of the Guard of Civim," he said as though that was reason enough to trust him.

"The what?"

"The Citadel," he said. "I thought Felix would have told you."

He knew Felix; maybe she could trust him.

"He hasn't told me much. He's sick."

"I can see that," he said. "Stay close, we're nearly there."

Sure enough, as they summited a particularly steep slope—one that Emya had to crawl near the top for fear of slipping—the tree line appeared. Beyond, lights twinkled among houses, silhouetted in the last rays of the setting sun. Artyem did not stop to admire the charming scene, nor to let her catch her breath, instead striding with urgent haste toward the village.

When they arrived it was fully dark, but villagers still wandered the streets under tall lamps and light streaming from windows. The villagers smiled pleasantly as they passed by with a careless expression, not unlike the way her neighbors had looked before they utterly lost their minds. She stuck close on Artyem's heels. The houses were unlike those in her village. Constructed out of wood and with windows that were impossibly clear, Emya could see the inhabitants inside laughing and talking. She looked away quickly, afraid to catch the manic gleam in their eyes she'd seen in so many of her neighbors.

A large building, larger even than the council chamber, loomed before them. Light poured from its enormous windows. Artyem took the steps leading up to the huge double doors two at a time. A man stood at the door, dressed in beautiful, well-made slacks, shirt and jacket. She thought he must be someone of importance as he opened the door for them.

The inside of the house was magnificent. Emya could hardly take it all in. Bright white stone lined the floor, and the walls were colored a light blue. They ascended a curved staircase with a banister of ornately carved poles and smooth railing. Detailed paintings of richly-dressed people in dark wood frames lined the walls. If only she could have stopped to admire them, but she was falling behind Artyem's unrelenting pace. Past the stairs, they walked down a hall with wooden floors. She couldn't believe she was stepping on something as precious as wood, but the village was on the edge of a forest, so their attitude must have been a little different. Artyem, now a distance ahead of her, pushed open the door at the end of the hall.

"What happened?" Emya heard a woman say as she caught up.

"He's been attacked by the Faolgal," replied Artyem.

Emya entered the room as Artyem laid Felix in a small, clean bed. A woman in a white dress sat on the edge and examined him. Artyem stepped back.

"There is much more wrong with him than an attack from the Faolgal," the woman said, looking over him with a practiced eye.

"If there wasn't, he would not have been attacked in the first place," Artyem said flatly.

"What was he doing there?"

"That I do not know, but I will find out."

Abruptly he took Emya by her arm, twirled her around, and marched her out. In the hallway, he pushed her back against the wall and towered over her, blocking escape. He was more intimidating in the light. His heavy clothes were scratched and scorched like flesh. A belt encircled his waist, two long knives, and a sword secured in it. Even more unsettling was his face, which had one long scar that ran from his cheek to a mangled ear before disappearing into his short, black hair. Despite this, his features, though grim and scrutinizing, were youthful. He couldn't have been much older than Emya or Felix.

"Who are you and how did you come to be with him?" He jutted his chin in the direction of the room where Felix lay unconscious.

"My village," she said in a quiet voice. "He was there. We escaped together."

"Your village held him captive?" he asked in stark disbelief. Emya shook her head quickly.

"He came with savage men. They made themselves our leaders and brought him with them as their captive. They were using him for..." she couldn't bring herself to tell him. What if Felix didn't want his secret to be revealed? What if Artyem hated magic too? He might kill Felix, and her for good measure. Or he might want to take their magic, as his fearsome appearance reminded her of the Kings.

"For what?" he pressed impatiently. "I need to know what they did to him."

Emya wrapped her arms around herself and stared at the floor. If she did not tell him, he might harm her. If she did tell him, the same result. She could feel him watching her, looming. The world seemed to close in around her, encasing the two of them in a tiny box with no escape. She tottered a little.

"We can't help him unless we know what's been done to him," he said more gently. She looked up through her lashes. He'd taken a step back and was looking at her a little less severely.

The words wouldn't come; too long had she suppressed them. Only once had she let them out and the Kings had taken advantage of her for it. She could not let that happen again.

The door opened behind them and the woman stuck her head out. Artyem half turned.

"I know what is wrong," she said. "You can stop interrogating her."

Artyem relaxed, visibly relieved. "Can you help him?"

"Yes, but he will need weeks to recover."

Artyem sighed in relief. "He can take all the time he needs, but I doubt it will be more than a week or two."

Shaking her head in disbelief, the woman disappeared into the room, closing the door behind her. Artyem turned back to Emya.

"You're going to tell me what happened," he said, his voice soft but firm. "But it can wait for now. Come."

He turned and strode away. With no choice but to follow, she trotted after him. Through a maze of halls and corridors, he led her up another flight of stairs to a nondescript wooden door. Opening it, he gestured for her to enter.

Inside was a comfortably sized room, a large, plush bed, a table against the wall with one chair, and a washbasin. Emya turned, Artyem had not followed her in.

"Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning." He shut the door, his heavy boots thudding on the floor as he retreated. Like the Kings, he ordered her about with no explanation. With a long sigh, she sank onto the floor, tears welling up. She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Her shoulder and head pulsed with pain and blood soaked her clothing. She couldn't bring herself to lie in the bed and get the beautiful blankets dirty and bloody. For a long while she sat like that until there was a gentle tap on the door. It opened without waiting for her response.

"Oh, my dear," said the woman who'd taken charge of Felix. "You're as much as a mess as poor Felix. Worry not, I'll take care of you."

Emya was silent except for hisses of pain that escaped her lips as the woman cleaned and bandaged her shoulder. Then she helped Emya up and guided her to the washbasin where she washed Emya's hair and wounded scalp. She applied a soothing salve to the gash and wrapped her head in a towel.

"Here's a nightdress," she said, handing her a neatly folded bundle. "You can take a proper bath tomorrow; do you need help getting changed?"

Emya shook her head and the woman wished her good night. She should have asked the woman to help her dress. Hot tears beaded in her eyes from the searing pain in her shoulder as she pulled her shirt over her head. Thankfully the nightdress buttoned up in the front. She slid her injured arm into the sleeve without too much complaint from her shoulder. Feeling a little better, she crawled into bed.




Thank you all for reading! There are three more chapters left in this book which is available in ebook and paperback on Amazon, Barns & Noble, and many more. You can also order a copy from your local book store. You can also read the sequel Winding Ever Higher, which is available as an ebook.