The Exiles

31c. Chymer Keep

After an excruciatingly long time, unable to breathe, the seven of them plodded into the antechamber outside the room in the hall, near where Rava waited for his bride with the Priestess of Oath. Nessa gasped for air as her lungs burned and her ribs released.

Somehow, Vanylla and her legs had tangled up in the portal. In her effort to detangle herself from her sister, Nessa lost her balance, her back hitting the closed doors, rattling them on their frame. "Ow," she let out, not meaning to.

Amer's hand flew to her mouth from across the floor — he too had landed somehow on his belly. "Not so loud, Ness!"

"What was that?" They heard a voice faintly reach them from the closed doors to their right, and Nessa assumed rightly that it was either the hall or the hallway outside the antechamber.

"Cabbage!" Ursa muttered, springing to her feet the fastest. "Quick, hide. Behind the drapes."

Before Nessa knew what they were doing, all seven of them were scrambling to hide behind the drapes that fell from ceiling to floor over the windows to the left and the right of the doors. The side Nessa scrambled to, along with Amer — who handled and manoeuvred her and Vanylla quickly behind the curtain — overlooked a manicured garden. It was lush, with a small dusting of frost falling on the hedges that grew around the courtyard like a tall wall. What lay beyond, she could not make out, but what she could tell was that the daylight was fading fast. Too fast and her heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest. I saw Mama get married when the moon rose. Beyond the tall hedge wall, the silvery light of the moon was rising like an unwelcomed halo. We have less than an hour to reach her...

A vision blitzed through her mind. The soldier could see Attin and Ursa and Papa and Uncle Rea on the floor, all trying to help Attin to his feet, to hide him behind the other drapes, but they were too late. They'd been caught. The vision pressed forward, showing their arrest, them being dragged to the dungeons. She saw some curved axe glint in the air, striking down on someone whose face she couldn't quite make out. Nessa gasped as the vision died.

"Amer—" but again, her brother threw his hand over her mouth and held her tight, as close to the wall as they could get without falling out of the window. Beside them, Nessa could feel Vanylla shaking as she clutched at Amer's hip.

"Shh! Someone's coming," Amer breathed into her ear.

That's when she heard the faint steps before the door to their right groaned on its hinges and from the corner of the curtain, she could see someone step into the small room that was barely the size of their entire cottage back home. He stood so close she could reach out and touch him. Reach out and touch him! Her mind urged, and before she knew it, before Amer anchored her hand to her side, Nessa brushed the tip of her middle finger onto the man's ceremonial tunic and mouthed, 'You see nothing. Nothing at all. Just an empty room.'

She did not know if it would work.

A loud, firm voice from the inside asked, "Well, what is it?"

Nessa held her breath. In fact, she felt Amer hold his, too, and Vanylla dug her fingernails in Nessa's arm as she clutched it hard.

You see nothing. Just an empty room...

"Uh... nothing, my lord, but I thought I heard something..."

"You're always hearing things, Rambold! Now go see how far off the queen is. I'm getting impatient!"

See nothing as you leave. Nessa whispered nervously and retrieved her hand as the man nodded and left via the opposite doors.

***

Attin had struggled to reverse the portal after hearing Nessa say 'No,' too late. He'd fought hard to take them back to their starting position outside the Keep, yet his sides had ripped open, red hot again as if the blade had found its mark anew, and the excruciating pain hadn't let him make the journey. Instead of taking them back outside the city walls, he'd almost landed them right in front of the man they were trying to avoid for a little longer, till they could secure their mother. Rava. When he'd seen the man, his wayward thought — Is that what he looks like? — had almost plonked them straight on top of him.