Frost Arch (38 page)

I turned my attention back to the Mages who were now at the bottom of the stairs. There were three of them, all dark shadows against the light meaning I had no idea who they were or if I knew them. Two of the men were tall and broad shouldered. The one on the left supported a thick bat in one hand, and the one on the right carried a large set of jingling keys. I guessed that these men were guards or alike. In between the guards was a shorter and narrower man, with a slight pot-belly undoubtedly due to too many spoils in life. I could tell right away who this silhouette belonged to - my worst nightmare.

“Master.” The guard carrying the bat said, bowing in the direction of the cell.

“Good lord man, it stinks down here.” Master Forsythe scolded his company, stepping closer to the cell bars which I was behind.

“Apologies, Master.”

“No, no. It’s not your fault.” Forsythe waved his hand dismissively, “Disgusting humans.” He said in an undertone, “Well what are you waiting for lad, unlock the cell!”

“Right you are, Master.” The man with the set of keys hurried forwards and fumbled, looking for the correct one. While Forsythe sighed impatiently the door unlocked and the guard with the large bat stepped into the cell and approached me. I barely had time to react for I had not expected it. With one sweeping blow the bat came crashing down on my legs. I cried out in pain and tried to move away but the shackles made it horribly difficult to escape. Next the bat came down swiftly upon my ribs and the pain that followed seared through my whole body. I cried out and stifled a sob. Broken ribs. Again.

“Make one move when the Master enters, and it will be the last thing you do, disgusting human.” The guard hissed at me, spraying my face with spit.

“I’m not-” I began defensively yet my punishment for uttering a single syllable came swiftly and the bat came crashing down upon my ribs. I cried out in pain again and lay in a heap on the floor. I figured that he had broken at least two ribs. Tears welling in my eyes, my shin and ribs throbbing angrily, I lay perfectly still as the guard retreated and made way for Sebastian Forsythe.

The older man stepped forwards and stared down at me, though I did not look him in the face. Curled in a ball, and shying away I tried to pretend that I no longer existed. Non existence had to be better than what lay ahead. Yet somewhere in the back of my mind I realised that I was not as scared of dying as I’d originally thought. Now that the time had come, all of my fear seemed to have been replaced with hopelessness. Had I really given up so easy?

“So.” Forsythe said as though he had finally gotten the better of me, “So.”

“So what?” I hissed, yet I instantly regretted it. The guard with the bat shot forwards and kicked me in the stomach. Coughing and spluttering I forced myself to look up at Forsythe who was nothing more than a black silhouette against the light shining through the trap door.

“You only managed to elude escape for a mere twenty four hours.” He said, his tone rather disappointed, “I expected better.”

I had learnt by now to keep my mouth shut, as much as I wanted to talk back, I knew it would only result in more pain.

“You deserve this, you know.” Forsythe continued, now pacing before me, “You thought you could fool us? We are far superior to your kind.”

I thought perhaps that Sebastian Forsythe had lost the plot. I hadn’t the slightest idea what he was going on about.

“First you tricked the blind Power-Seer into believing that you are one of us. I have been saying for years that he has lost his touch. Next you hoodwink Charles into letting you into my manor, and we foolishly take you in. And then what do we do? Pay you for your ‘services’ like you were actually one of us.”

My mind buzzed. This was not making sense one bit. I wanted to talk, to ask to have this whole fiasco explained to me.

Forsythe continued, “Once you had infiltrated the manor as an equal and gained the households trust you decided it was time to make a little profit, did you?” He sneered, “Thought you’d go sneaking around and thieve my prized possessions?”

“No!” I gasped, without thinking.

The guard made to move forwards once again but Sebastian held up a hand to stop him.

“Wait.” He said sharply before turning back to me, “What did you say?”

I pressed my lips together tightly and wondered why my heart hadn’t exploded out of my chest in fear. If only they would give me enough time to explain, then perhaps Forsythe would understand. Did he not have the Power to uncover lies?

“You’ve made a mistake.” I whispered almost inaudibly. Scared as I was to speak, things needed to be said – to be cleared up. There was obviously some kind of confusion. They made it sound like I was some sort of … criminal.

“We’ve made a mistake, have we?” Forsythe sneered, yet I could detect uncertainty in his voice. Did he detect the truth in mine?

“I don’t know who you think I am,” I whispered quickly, sitting up now, “But I swear that I haven’t hoodwinked anyone. I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The guard stepped forwards and slapped me across the face. I tasted blood almost instantly.

“Filth.” The guard hissed, spraying me with spit, “Funny though, Master.”

“What is funny?” Forsythe said impatiently.

“Never seen one who could talk before.” The guard replied, stepping back.

“Surely it is heard of.”

The guard shrugged, “Well they could have secret groups. Organisations that we don’t know about. You know? Plotting to take over again.”

“Don’t be daft, Porter.” Forsythe sighed, “All humans are currently enslaved. There are no wild ones.”

“Human?” I blurted before I could stop myself, “You think I’m human? No!” I cried out as the guard Porter raised his hand to me.

“Stop.” Forsythe commanded.

Porter lowered his hand and other guard shuffled on the spot uncomfortably.

“You say that you are not human, do you?” Forsythe directed at me, “Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not human.” He challenged.

Forsythe knelt beside me and I forced myself to squint into his cold, dark eyes.

“I’m not human.” I said sincerely, “I’m a Fire Mage.”

He sneered. He could obviously tell I wasn’t lying, though it seemed he was determined to make me suffer for ruining his private little collection.

“Prove it.” He hissed.

My heart dropped.

“I … can’t.” I whispered.

“You can’t?” Forsythe repeated, his voice dripping with false sympathy, “Pity.”

“You know I’m not lying!” I exclaimed angrily, “Why are you doing this to your own kind?”

But of course I knew the answer already. Perhaps Sebastian Forsythe wished to keep his little collection of human gadgets a secret and was using my current lack of Power as an excuse to have me imprisoned as punishment. Of course he knew that I was a Mage, and clearly no one was going to believe a word I said if Sebastian deemed me a liar.

Forsythe ignored me and straightened up, “You will be kept here until we get the information we need from you.”

Without another word he stepped from the cell and watched as the door closed.

“Wait, please.” My voice trembled and my heart pounded frantically, “Where is Jack?”

“Jack who?” Forsythe said absentmindedly, picking at some lint upon his clothes.

“Jack … Jack Greenwood.” I said rather befuddled, “The boy who was-”

“Greenwood, the healer boy?” Forsythe raised an eyebrow and scoffed as I nodded frantically, “What does he have to do with anything?”

One of the guards chimed in, “We accidentally attacked the young Mage on our hunt for the human, sir. Knocked him out good and proper of course, but we didn’t realise he was a Mage, see?”

“She had an accomplice?” Forsythe said suddenly stern. It seemed he had been unaware of Jack’s presence in this whole fiasco.

“No, sir. The Healer lad said he’d been hoodwinked. At first we thought he might be a human too, sir, but he showed us his Power and we let him go.”

“You let him go?” Forsythe repeated slowly.

“Of course, Sir. He … he was a Mage.” Porter said uncertainly.

“But he was helping the human.” Even I could detect the lie in Forsythe’s voice as he referred to me as Human.

“Sorry sir, but our department doesn’t handle criminal Mage’s. We specialise in Human affairs and enslavement, like catching runaways like this one.” He jerked his thumb in my direction.

Forsythe pinched the bridge of his nose in an annoyed fashion and heaved a sigh before continuing, “Very well. I suppose it doesn’t matter anyway. The boy is insignificant in the scheme of things, yet useful at the manor.”

My heart rate slowed down. Jack would be safe. He was in no danger. I could have cracked a smile yet it was hardly appropriate at the time.

Time escaped me as I sat in the freezing dungeon. I was given meals after what felt like an immense amount of time. I tried to count the hours between each meal, but they were so far apart that I would lose count every time. Hours and hours. More than ten hours between each meal. More than twenty.

I was being given one meal every twenty-four hours. This is how I counted the days. Every time the tiny meal was thrown at my feet I scratched a little tally mark into the moss covering the stone wall. My hunger was made even worse, because I was halving every one of my meals with the tiny human girl who shared my cell. She was close to death and I guessed she hadn’t eaten for a very long time. I assumed that she had been forgotten about like every other body in the room. I wondered why the humans hadn’t turned on each other and resorted to cannibalism to stay alive. I felt disgusted that I had even thought that of them. They were not animals. Right now we were equals.

I wondered why I was being fed, and the human girl not. Whatever the case, I was sure Sebastian Forsythe did not want me dead just yet.

It had taken a lot of persuading to get the human to eat the food I provided her with. She shied away and cowered at the very sight of me, yet after much deliberation I had forced the food into her hand and put her hand to her mouth. Very unsure, she began to eat, and now every time a meal was given to me, she perked her head up hopefully like a mistreated dog.

After my eighth meal and eighth day, the frail girl shuffled out of her corner and sat beside me while we shared the tiny portion. She was so thin that her bones jutted out harshly and I thought she might break if a gust of wind came along.

I had a lot of time to think while I sat there, day after day. My tally on the wall now showed that I had been living in this dungeon for twelve days. I was beginning to notice how thin I too was becoming, yet of course nowhere near as thin as my human companion. Looking down at my hands I studied my twig-like wrists and sighed.

Mostly I had been thinking about Jack and Hawthorne. I wondered where Jack was, and what he was doing. Was he thinking about me? Did he even know where I was? Somehow I knew he was perfectly safe, and that gave me peace. But then Hawthorne would pop into my mind, and my heart ached for my best friend. My pet. He had been stolen from me, and I had no way to help him. I often wondered if he were still alive, and if he was, was he being treated okay? What if he were harmed, tortured on a daily basis? The reason I had rescued Hawthorne was to prevent some sick Mage from dissecting him. Clearly that was why he had been stolen.

When these thoughts entered my mind I found it very hard to stay calm. I would often find myself shaking uncontrollably, but I was too weak to have a tantrum.

On my twentieth day of imprisonment I realised that I was slowly wasting away. I no longer bothered to sit up, stretch my muscles or try to make myself more comfortable. I just lay there unmoving. A couple of times my meal arrived and I didn’t even bother to reach for it. My human companion, seemingly realising that I had lost hope had brought the tray to me, and like I had done to her, forced the food into my very hand. The gesture made my chest ache with emotion but I was too tired and indifferent about the world to care now. I was going to die here, it was clear to me now. I was not going to go out with a bang and a fight, like I had expected. I was going to lay here and let death take me. Perhaps I would take death’s hand with a sigh of relief.

I didn’t bother opening my eyes anymore, and I soon lost count of the days. I’m not sure how much time slipped by as I lay curled in a ball upon the floor, my eyes closed because I did not have enough energy to open them. I often slipped in and out of consciousness, though I seemed to come around when the guards stomped down the stairs to throw the food at me. The clanking of their boots annoyed me and I wished for silence once more.

However, when I next heard the sound of footsteps it was not the familiar clanking and stomping of the bad tempered guards. These foot falls were much softer, and by the sound of it this person did not pick their feet up enough when they walked, for I could hear their shoes scuffing along on the stone. The heavy boots of the guards could not be heard. I was tempted to peek, yet my eyes seemed glued shut. I realised now that my brain was more alert than it had been for several weeks, yet my body was so weak that I could not muster up the strength to be the slightest bit interested in my surroundings.