Page 41 of Aubade Rising
“I’m not going to make apologies for how the rebels choose to settle their quarrels with your captain. He’s handled worse before, I’m sure.” Kitto sounds bored. She waves away the other guards, leaving the three of us alone.
Eskar groans and tries to pull himself towards me. He nearly makes it when Kitto lashes out, landing a kick to his stomach. I catch her eye when I go to help him: it reminds me not to intervene, not to break the tentative bargain we’ve made for his life. She ties his hands to two separate stakes, tight enough to prevent him from wielding.
Her manic laughter smothers his rasping coughs. Every fibre of me wants to pull him close, to protect him from her vengeancebut I continue to hold myself still, even though his eyes are pained, confused about my silence.
“A quick demonstration, Sage.” She leans in, whispering, “A kind of retribution for your lack of transparency earlier.”
The little blood remaining in my face drains as I realise she’s not going to explain my refusal to defend him. The cloying, sweet aroma of Eskar’s blood splits my vision. A trickle runs towards my feet and I shrink from it. Across the room, Kitto removes the leather bracelets covering her forearms, revealing a chaotic mess of thin scars, new and fading. Rolling up her sleeves, her mouth curves in a wicked smile. “Let’s begin then.”
My gaze is locked on Eskar, desperately trying to let him know I don’t want this. I don’t agree with this. It starts.
Kitto’s attitude is obvious now it’s not being used on me. She can suck the air out of your lungs, keeping them empty. Eskar rolls on the floor, smearing blood. His eyes bulge and roll back into his skull, face reddening.
When I can’t take the silence and am about to scream at Kitto to release him, she does. He’s permitted one, huge, gasping lungful of air before it’s squeezed out of him and he’s brought to the edge of unconsciousness again.
A soft smile creeps across her face as she leads him to the brink of asphyxiation, threatening to push him over the edge. Each time, the suffocation lasts a little longer. Despite the cramping starvation from lack of oxygen, Eskar thrashes violently, desperate for relief.
Again and again, she pushes him. I’m fighting against the memories of my torture, trying to stay present in the tiny room. Eskar’s and my gaze lock tight. Every part of me hoping, praying he can see I’m not complicit. Not here willingly.
As the torture wears on he stops noticing me. When his eyes open for a fraction of a second, they stare blearily over my shoulder, unseeing, before screwing up in agony again.
Satisfied she’s made her point, Kitto stops. I sag against the mud wall and fix my eyes on Eskar until I’m certain his breathing, although ragged, is stable.
The guards return and stuff him into one of the honeycomb cell holes and Kitto ushers me away.
We cannot stay here. She’ll kill him.
Chapter 41
Kitto collects me the next morning, to show me the laboratory. I’ve not slept all night, despite having a bed for the first time in weeks. My thoughts are on Eskar, imprisoned in the cells and suffering. Nonetheless, I make sure to be more agreeable.
We make our way through the tunnels, taking another route and discreetly I try to map our journey by scuffing my heel at every corner, creating a shallow mark in the well-trodden mud. It’s not much but it’s a start. Our escape will depend on me.
I’m hopeful the journey to the laboratory will mean a trip outside so I can channel before we arrive but, to my dismay, Kitto opens a thick wooden door embedded in a nondescript corridor and ushers me in.
The setup is rudimentary at best: a few workbenches, some scales and other odd pieces of equipment I don’t recognise. It’s simpler than my first shared laboratory at Athnavar Academy.
Reading into my surprise, Kitto says, “I hope you weren’t expecting top of the line equipment and fancy measurement tools? It’s probably the worst laboratory I’ve ever worked in too but it gets the job done.”
Interesting, I wonder aloud where she worked.
“Nowhere you’d recognise. Let’s say I’m a long way from home.”
Ambiguous. I peer closely at her, searching for clues. Her twisted smile shows she’s enjoying the joke. The lack of daylight has drained her skin of colour which contrasts with eyes so black I can’t see her pupils. Given the propensity for rain and cloud here, I wonder if she’s alluding to studying much further afield. If she has connections outside Trevesiga.
“Let me show you where we are now.” Her pride is evident; she plans to impress. A nasty thread of insecurity pulls at me. What if she’s better, smarter than me?
Deft hands assemble seven crystals on the closest workbench in order of size. Serpentine crystal. I recognise the vivid green colour with navy veining from Howl’s description. Starting with the smallest crystal, the air quiets in the room as she wields. The crystals look ordinary: no polishing or cleaning, just roughly hewn lumps of rock. When the first begins to glow, she moves on. With all seven glowing, getting brighter in intensity the longer they are left on the workbench, I back away to the door, looking for shelter, anticipating an explosion.
Laughing, Kitto pulls a lever and a bell rings. Four men run into the room, grab the crystals with thick leather mitts and run out again. Gesturing for me to follow, Kitto jogs down the tunnels. A couple of turns and we’re in daylight; the men run several feet to the edge of the mist which looms overhead, blocking the sun. They place the crystals down and retreat to the tunnel entrance behind us. Smugly I realise why the lab is based there: it’s got easy access to outside. I’m not the only one with incendiary issues.
We wait a few moments, watching the glowing crystals as they glow brighter and I begin to think she might have nailed it. Then she throws a hand over my eyes and pulls me urgently to her chest. Seven booms ring out across the landscape and echo through the mists, each louder than the previous. Between the bangs, Kitto laughs gleefully, revelling in the destruction. My neck strains as she holds me to her chest. Ears ringing, I push away to survey the damage. Seven concentric burn marks overlap in front of us, deep scores into the earth, the nearest alarmingly close to our feet.
She’s done it though – the magic was stored there temporarily. It’s closer than what I’ve achieved. The only difference I can seeis her access to the right material. Based on Dervla’s theory that if I can fully master the Gallos, if I can gently feed my magic into the crystals, then it might actually work.
Her laughter subsides. “I love the bangs.” Hand on chest, catching her breath, her eyes sparkle. “So, this is where we’ve been stuck for the last few months. But now you’re here, we can finally make some real progress. We need to delay the detonation as long as possible. Ideally, I want to be able to pull the trigger whenever I want.” She reels her objectives off like a shopping list.
Bombs. That’s all she’s interested in. Making bigger and more deadly weapons to cause more damage to ordinary people caught in the crossfire.
