Page 12 of These Divided Shores
“You don’t realize what this means,” Jakes hissed. “Your father has two of you now—”
The hall filled with more booted feet, the clank of armor,the steady murmur of prayers. Jakes tugged his hat back on.
Ben processed what Jakes had said. Until now, his imprisonment had been mild. Monxes prayed over him or sang hymns, demanding he repent. Elazar would visit, bemoaning what a disappointment Ben was to him, but he never entered Ben’s cell and lifted his hands only to make the Church’s symbol. Even so, Elazar’s nearness made Ben’s old injuries throb. His jaw ached constantly, his body unable to forget what it felt like to question his father.
What Ben had done on the deck of theAstutohad surpassed mere questioning—he had outright defied Elazar. And all he had received so far was mind-numbing monotony.
Ben had held his breath every day, waiting for this precise moment.
Lu was awake now. She and Ben—one of them would make permanent magic for Elazar.
One of them was expendable.
Three monxes and two defensors stepped around Jakes, filling the hall with more white-feathered hats and billowing navy tunics showing Argrid’s curvedVand crossed swords. The defensors held Lu, who staggered when they halted, her black hair shifting to reveal eyes bloodshot with the emotions Ben had to stomp out in his own body: fury, terror, disgust, hatred.
Ben braced himself as defensors unlocked his cell and shoved her in. All the empty cells, and Elazar was putting them together?
“The Eminence King reminds you to repent,” said a defensor with a bandage around his forehead. He was one Gunnar had burned during their first failure of an escape attempt.
Lu caught herself. The door shut behind her, and the swirling fury in her eyes landed on Ben. Did she blame him for her being at Argrid’s mercy, for the horrors his country had committed?
Her brow relaxed. “You’re all right?”
Ben managed a smile. “Yes—are you? What—”
The group in the hall hadn’t retreated. Jakes stared at the floor, his jaw rippling the short stubble along his chin.
Bumps of dread prickled the skin on the back of Ben’s neck. Elazar wasn’t with this group—surely he would dole out his son’s punishment. But when Ben had been younger, before he had learned to hide his defiance, Elazar had given Ben’s monxe tutors permission to treat him as any other pupil. To do whatever it took to banish insolence in favor of purity.
These weeks of monotony had been a ruse to lull Ben into ease.
He staggered back, heart thundering. He had endured beatings as a child—he was stronger now, harder, he could survive this, he could survive—
But the defensors turned their backs to him. And faced Gunnar.
Jakes didn’t look at Ben as the defensors opened Gunnar’scell. The one with the bandage had a brutal whip coiled at his waist, leather interspersed with shards of glass.
That Elazar had let Gunnar live should have stuck out more. Gunnar had proven he wouldn’t break under torture during his captivity in Argrid. He didn’t matter to Elazar—but defensors watched him and Ben. Monxes heard them talking.
Elazar knew Ben and Gunnar had bonded.
Ben’s heart froze, a biting, icy knot in his chest. He stumbled forward. “Jakes,” he begged, pride be damned. “You can’t do this. You aren’t—”
A torturer. A tool. A weapon.Every word dissolved in his mouth.
“Gunnar isn’t part of this,” Lu tried.
“Repent. Make the potion.” Jakes almost looked sad. “And we’ll stop.”
The monxes started praying—“Let them see reason, Pious God, let them understand”—and it drove into Ben’s mind, dredging up childhood Church services and those moments when praying to an unknown god had brought him peace.
Gunnar watched the defensors enter his cell. Smoke escaped his lips in tight spirals.
The defensors got close, and Gunnar heaved forward, fire licking one’s face.
The defensor only chuckled. “You didn’t think we’d come near you again without Extin, eh?”
Extin made its taker fireproof for a time. Which meant Gunnar couldn’t hurt them.
