The Exiles

22. Flicker of a firefly

A flicker of light, like a firefly, danced before her eyes in the distance. The only speck of light in that all-consuming darkness. Darkness didn't scare Rita Silvertongue. No. What she feared was never seeing light again; the light of her family, the light of her little ones growing into their own, just as Amer, Ursa, and Attin had done. She also feared for Nessa. Her thoughts constantly pulled back to her daughter, shielded and lying at the edge of the Cerulean waters. So close, yet so far. If only the King's men had taken a moment longer to reach them. If only—

Footsteps hitting the cold, wet stone floor ricocheted off the narrow walls and Rita snapped her head up. The gag in her mouth made it impossible for her to speak. Rita wondered what was the point of it anyway as she couldn't speak anyway, not with the soothsayer's hex upon her. She hated the feel of the rough material in her mouth, the way it made her thirst for water.

Her arms too were shackled to two long chains embedded in the slime-covered wall behind her. But she held her head high. Whoever was coming her way would not see defeat, but behold her defiance instead. She was not a woman to take lightly, even if she was bound, gagged or hexed. There was no man in this land or the next that Rita Anteri-Chymer lowered her head or her gaze for. Her father had taught her well. She shall bow to no one. Not even the devious, self-proclaimed 'King' himself who had his men tie her up, like the coward he was.

The sound of heels grew louder and louder until that firefly of a flicker turned into a raging flame of a torch. It lit half of the man's face that held it.

King Rava the Usurper—that's was what Rita had called him all these years. Rava the betrayer; a simple thief. A petty thief. And a crown upon his head did not make him her King.

He stood a while in his splendor before he spoke as if daring her to speak. "You look as lovely as ever, my dear."

Rita grunted against her restraints and gag.

"And fiery, as ever!"

Let me free and we shall see how fiery I can be!

"Now, why on Chymer would I do that, Your Highness?" He leaned closer to the bars of her prison and Rita could see the sneer upon his pox-scared face.

She had forgotten for a moment that Rava's weave gifted him the power to read minds, minds that were open and naïve to his talent. The same talent that no doubt caused her family to fall from grace, for Rita could think of no one else who had been in a better position to destroy her family the way it had been all those years ago, with cunning.

He'd been trusted, far too trusted with royal lives and royal secrets.

Rita closed her eyes and tried hard to shield her mind from him. It was something she was apt at doing once upon a time, seeing how she'd grown up with him. But years of living freely on Earth had taken their toll. Her shields were as rusty as her shackles.

"Why do you fight me, my Rita the Brave? Why is it you hate me so?" Rava walked through the iron bars, as if it were smoke, coming to caress her cold cheek. "All I've ever done is love you."

His fingers brushed her skin and Rita felt her skin crawl. She snapped her head away from him but could not do more, not bound the way she was.

"Shush!" he cooed. "These years have not been kind to you, have they?" The pad of his thumb lingered on Rita's lower lip. She had the urge to bite him if only she could. "You used to love me once."

As a brother! She jerked her face away from his touch again, only to have him grip her face harder.

"Don't make me regret my order to not hurt you." The darkness in his eyes flickered to life for a moment. "You're alive because of my mercy, and you will do as you're told. You will tell me where your family is... where that useless husband of yours is! Tell me where he is and I'll let your children go, unharmed."