Arden (Mages of the Flame #1) FIRST DRAFT

Part 23: Sallus

Donovan shouldered his way through the remains of the door. Blackened splinters littered the stone steps and the floor beyond. The guard area was empty, but to his right, through the metal bars of the cell corridor heard the prisoners in the dark.

Rebel fighters flowed through the doorway behind him, checking locks and securing the room. Bronwyn came next and Chester was the last to enter, still supporting Lydia. She gripped the sleeve of his robe with one hand and in the other was the bow she refused to put down.

Donovan said, "Bronwyn. We will test the building. You free the prisoners." He barked at the fighters and they formed around him. One opened the door carefully, peered through, then gave the all clear. Then they were gone.

Bronwyn rattled the barred door separating them from the cells beyond, and to her surprise it opened.

"I'll find the keys," said Chester. Lydia, wincing, slumped into a chair. Chester searched the obvious places but found nothing. No hooks or cubby holes held the keys, and the single closet contained only a bucket and mop.

"What about the fireplace?" said Lydia. She pointed at a couple of black cracked lumps of wood in a pile of ash.

Bronwyn knelt down and coaxed the dead fire back to life with her gifts. There was almost nothing left. Only a whimper of flame remained, but she found it and drew it out of the ashes to burn again. One black stump popped into life.

Bronwyn lit a spare torch and carried it through to the cells. Rooms designed for one held six apiece. She willed the flame brighter and scanned the faces under the dancing shadows. No Morrigan. Perhaps freeing him so easily was too much to hope for, but freedom was still hers to give.

"Stand back," she warned. She held the torch closer to the locks and concentrated. Flames sucked into the keyholes like water down a drain. There was a spark and a ping and the first lock was open.

Eager hands opened the door, pushed past their saviour, and fled.

Bronwyn repeated the act on the next cell, and the next until all the doors were open. As the last of the prisoners fled out into the plaza the three rebels heard the banging of armoured feet echoing toward the inner door Donovan and his men had used.

"Donovan's back," said Chester.

"Already," said Bronwyn.

Chester reached for the door and opened it.

"Wait!" said Lydia.

The three guards tensed as Chester flung open the door to welcome what he thought would be his companions.

Chester leapt backward, tripped over Lydia's leg and fell. One quick instinctive blast of wind slammed the door in the face of the lead guard, and put out Bronwyn's torch.

Lydia yelped in pain and snatched up an arrow.

"Chester!" Bronwyn complained.

The guards kicked open the door and charged into the room. A Mage followed one step behind them.

Chester rolled and rose to one knee. Lydia notched her arrow, drew and released.

Bronwyn swung the torch two-handed into the face of the nearest guard. He blocked it with one armoured forearm and swung his short sword back at her. The torch fell to the floor. The guard shoved her away with one hand, sending her to her knees. He stepped over the torch and raised his sword.

Lydia's arrow missed and disappeared through the doorway. The guards spread out. The Mage picked up the torch and raised it to the ceiling.

New flames roared to life.