Unwilling (Book One of the Compelled Trilogy 1) (25 page)

TWENTY

“WHERE IS MY SISTER?” Elias screamed, spit flying from his mouth in rage. His face was red and he panted angrily. 

“I don’t know my Tal, but someone has come with me who knows where she might be.” Carter said calmly, his gaze looking steadily at Elias, his blond hair tumbling onto his forehead. He tugged on a rope and a man fell to his knees in front of Elias. He was bald and his blue eyes were red rimmed from crying. “He was in her party, he knows where she has gone.” He pulled the rope around the man’s neck, like a noose, again, causing the bald man to gag as it pressed into his Adams apple.

“Jonquil.” Elias mused, bending down on one knee in front of the man. Jonquil flinched as though Elias had struck him and Elias thought he might do just that for his impudence.

“M-M-My, Mo-Moval,” Jonquil stuttered, his eyes downcast, fresh tears forming in them.

“Jonquil,” Elias purred, “won’t you look at me?” He asked softly, his voice sounding disappointed that he had frightened the man so, even though Elias wanted nothing more than to lop off his head. However, Elias was very good at controlling his anger. He’d had years of practice.

Jonquil raised his head, hope beginning to form that Elias, perhaps, would not kill him. “Do you know where my sister is?” Elias asked gently, stroking the side of Jonquil’s face, which leaned into the gesture, like a kitten, wishing to be scratched twixt the ears.

“She was taken.” Jonquil replied, “Three days ago, I know not by whom. Four of our party went to find her. I came to you immediately!” Jonquil said, his words spilling from his mouth in a rush. Jonquil was not prepared for the blow and his head snapped sideways at the impact of Elias’s open hand to the side of his face. Jonquil’s cheek stung and he looked up at Elias, his eyes huge in disbelief.

Elias stood, towering over Jonquil, the sniveling pathetic excuse for a man. “I sent you to protect my sister, to keep her safe as she foolishly pursued me, and what do you do? YOU LET HER GET ABDUCTED!” Elias raged, a vein popping out in his neck from strain.

Jonquil whimpered on the floor, his hands clasped in front of him, his knuckles white from the pressure, “My Moval,” he pleaded, sniffing the snot that ran down from his nose, “My Tal, I will find her, I will bring her to you-“ Elias backhanded him again and Jonquil fell to the floor, his head cracking against the polished marble. He whimpered but made no move to get up. “I did as you said my Moval; I led her astray until you have been ready to see her. I did as you asked my Tal.” Jonquil sniveled, pressing his face into the cool stone floor. “I did as you asked.”

Elias’s eyes flashed as he strode across the room, stopping at a small round table that came up to his waist. He ran his hand across the array of daggers that lay there, their blades glinting in the sun that shone down from a window the table sat under. Elias selected a small one, the blade deadly sharp, the hilt plain brown leather.

Elias twirled it in his hand as he walked back to Jonquil, whose snot was now running into his mouth, his fat ugly tears falling onto the expensive marble. “Jonquil,” Elias began, stooping so he could look the wretched, blubbering man in the eyes, “I want you to take this dagger and carve out your heart.” He handed Jonquil the knife and Jonquil took it, nodding, his eyes blank as he stared at Elias. “If my sister dies because you were too impotent to protect her, you will have carved out my own heart.” He explained. “Go on now.” Elias urged, his voice clipped, his words seething with hostility.

Elias stood and Jonquil sat up, holding the dagger with both hands, the blade pointed at his chest. He looked dazed as he plunged the dagger into his chest, as hard as he could. Jonquil gasped, his eyes wide and shocked. He looked down at the dagger in his chest as if unsure of how it got there, blood seeping out under the wound and he slumped to the ground with a last convulsion.

Vibrant blood pooled across the floor, the red like a shining lake in the middle of the pale white floor, growing larger as every second passed. Elias stood in it a moment, a look of disgust etched into his handsome face.

“Find her, Carter.” Elias said coolly, as though he had not just murdered someone.

Elias strode from the room, taking long strides. He paused in the doorframe; his head turned slightly to the side, Carter saw a flicker of emotion in his hazed eyes, regret, sadness, fear, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, the flicker of light diminishing as his power raged inside him, “and find someone to clean up that filth.” He demanded, without looking back.

TWENTY-ONE

Rowan awoke from her dream, groggy. She wanted to scrub the grit from her eyes, but she couldn’t move her hands. Her eye stung when she opened it, so she left it closed. She had been dreaming about food: thick piles of flapjacks and succulent beef, tender roast swine and juicy apples that crunched as she bit into them. She dreamed about honey tarts so good that in her dream she had eaten six of them. She dreamed that she had gorged herself so much that her stomach had bloated and she could not move for the delicious pain of it.

She wanted desperately to slip back into the dream but the terrain had gotten so rough the horse bounced her head ferociously, which was what had woken her in the first place.

They had made their way out of the forest, the dense trees giving way to smaller trees, then shrubs, then nothing but rocks. They were at the base of a massive mountain and no matter how far Rowan strained her head to the side she couldn’t see the top of it. They had traveled like that for a day now, judging by the sun.             

The path they were on was rocky and slopped, and the horse slipped often on the loose rocks under its feet. Rowan found herself hoping the horse would go down on its side and her head would smash into a jagged rock
, like that one that we just passed, that one would have been good,
and she would bleed out and just die already. That had to be better than whatever plan Kastor had for her. However, the horse always regained its footing
, the damned creature
, and they continued to trek their way along the base of the mountain.

When they finally stopped, two days later, the horse was panting, dragging ragged breaths in and out and Rowan felt each one swell and release under her, like a wave lapping against the shore.
I will die and still have never seen the ocean
, Rowan thought sadly, and it only made her think of Jace, of his beautiful green eyes.

The sun was high in the sky and it beat down on Rowans back. Sticky sweat dripped from her sides. And her forehead. And her arms, stinging her burns as they slipped over the unhealed, scorched flesh.

The horse pulled up short and Rowan turned her head to look around but she couldn’t see past Kastor’s thick leg. Her head pounded as blood swirled around it from hanging half upside down for hours. Kastor swung his leg over the horse, catching Rowans side as it did every time he dismounted.

Rowan tried following him with her limited vision, but she quickly lost sight of him as he doubled back around the horse. She stayed like that for a while, sweating, her head pounding as the horse whinnied and shifted from one foot to the other, impatient in the heat.

Rowan heard rocks tumble as Kastor’s legs came back into view, kicking pebbles and large pale gray rocks away from him. He hoisted her over his shoulder and she went from a bouncing horse to a bouncing man as he carried her. Her face repeatedly smashed into his back.
Forget jagged rocks
, Rowan thought deliriously to herself,
his back muscles are what are going to kill me.

She heard a screeching noise and she cringed, the sound a deafening roar to her already thrashing headache. Kastor didn’t seem to notice and continued pulling a large, metal door that blended perfectly with the whitewashed gray of the rocks, open. It finally flung open, landing on the other side with a bang that sent rocks flying out from it. Out of the corner of her eye, Rowan could make out a gaping black hole in the ground.
Please don’t go in the hole,
she thought.

Rowan knew that if she went down into that hole, with this man, she would never make it out again.

Rowan tried to scream in protest, but her tongue was thick in her mouth and she only made a gargling noise. Kastor made a hopping motion, readjusting her on his shoulder, and descended into the earth.

The air was infinitely cooler down in the pit in the earth and grew colder with each downward step Kastor took. The air smelt moist, and moldy, bringing stinging tears to Rowan’s eyes. It was dark and she wondered how Kastor could see anything. The place felt massive to her, in its darkness
. It could stretch out underneath all of Varasin
, Rowan thought bleakly. She felt despair as they halted, Kastor fumbled with something, trying to use his only hand that wasn’t holding onto her, and a minute later light flared around her as he lit a lantern.

Rowan swiveled her head from side to side trying to look at where they were, but she couldn’t see anything other than more rocks. They took several turns and Rowan tried to remember their path through the underground tunnels but found that she could not make any sense of their direction in the underground labyrinth.

When they finally stopped Kastor opened up another door, this one creaking louder than the first door he had opened and dumped Rowan on the ground. Her tailbone bruising as she struck the ground, hard.

Kastor withdrew a knife from his heavy boot and Rowan flinched away from it, but he only cut the bonds that held her, the ropes falling to the ground soundlessly like dead snakes. Rowan rubbed her wrists, the skin tender, dried blood flaking off the ropes as she picked them up and cast them away from her. Kastor slammed the door on her and she heard the click of a lock and wondered how he had managed to get a cage down here. He didn’t seem smart enough to build a cage with a lock himself. Kastor walked off, leaving Rowan to brood in the silence that washed over her in his absence.

When Rowan turned, her eye adjusting to the dim light cast off by the lantern Kastor had left behind, she gasped to find herself face to face with a sheep. It bah’d at her, then ambled off to chew some grain in a trough on the far left side of the cage. Rowan blinked rapidly, eyeing the food and water laid out for the animal.

I’m not that desperate
, Rowan tried to convince herself, but who was she kidding? She abandoned her pride and crawled over to the water, cupping her hands in the cool liquid and slurped it up. She guzzled it until her stomach hurt and after a minute, she threw it all back up again, her stomach rejecting the liquid after days of emptiness. Her throat burned with acid and she drank the water more slowly after that, pacing herself.

The sheep bah’d again and moved away from her, going to lie down in some straw in another corner of the caged room. Rowan tried the grain, but it was too hard to chew and she spit it back out disappointed. She sat crossed legged on the dirt floor and pondered if the dirt was here naturally, or if Kastor had brought it in for the animal. He didn’t seem like a nice enough man to think about an animal’s comfort and figured that the cave floor must naturally be made of dirt in this part of the rock cave.

Rowan felt exhausted suddenly. She moved slowly toward the sheep, who’s deep and even breathing suggested it was asleep. The air was painfully cold down here and she curled up gingerly by the sheep trying to soak up some of its warmth. It lifted its head and looked at her sleepily as she curled by its side, but didn’t move, and eventually laid its head back down. Rowan bowed in on herself, hugging her arms to her chest as she lay in the straw.  She quickly succumbed to sleep.

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Rowan bolted upright, panic rising in her chest as a banging sound penetrated her slumber. It was dark and she could barely make out shadows in the bleak darkness. She forgot completely where she was as she scrambled to her feet, trying to run. She tripped on something and stumbled into the ground, dirt filling her mouth. Cold liquid sloshed over her, soaking through her clothes and drenching her skin.

She spit out the dirt as something soft brushed against her face and just like that, her memories came crashing back. The mountain, and the hole in the ground, and the sheep; the sheep who was now brushing itself against Rowan trying to reach its water, which she had spilt all over the floor in her mad dash to escape. It bah’d angrily at her and she scrambled away, hugging her knees to her chest as her back rested against the metal bars of her cage.

They were cold against her skin even through her shirt, painfully so. Rowan grew furious and slammed her body back into them, the sound echoing throughout the damp room. She threw herself backwards again and again until her back felt bruised and still she continued. She screamed, grabbing her hair at the sides of her head, a hollow wail rising from her parched throat. When she had no more left in her she slumped over, her cheek pressed to the cool ground.

Rowan breathed dirt in and out of her nose, it suffocated her, she choked on it, and she prayed to all the Gods that she had ever heard of to let her die already. As if in answer, a light shone behind her and she turned her face to it, blinking in the harsh light, her eyes unused to it. She brought her hand to her face, trying to shield out some of the bright light.