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Chapter 12 Red Affairs

  Our king was still in Jordan’s city, in his castle. Velmon, after several days, had yet to be found. Gallow came every morning to update me on my scheduled release, but by the day, freedom felt further away. He told me while many believed Velmon had already left our island, there was a chance he remained within our borders. Our king refused to leave until he had proper answers.

  That was Jordan’s reason for keeping me. Even if my lord believed I was innocent, the king had to be certain. In any case, my time was spent waiting. Perhaps I was less than comfortable, but I was safe and knew with time, I’d see the outside again.

  Quill, on the other hand, was in far worse conditions. They beat him. They tortured him. It had been three days since the fall of the Salt Barrel. It had been three days since I last saw Quill. On the fourth day, he was finally tossed into our cell. Unconscious, my uneven peer was bloody and on the verge of death. They clipped several of his finger tips till bone was exposed and cut into the flesh of his bare chest. Sweat, like a toad’s layer of slime, coated Quill’s body. But he shivered as if freezing cold.

  Prim and Brisk neglected to help me assist Quill, but there was little that we could do under our circumstances. I washed his wounds with our cleanest water. After ripping my shirt, I used it to wrap his hand to keep his tormented fingers from feeling the sting of open air. Still, he didn’t wake till after the passing of a full day. It was the middle of the night. I was seated on the floor with my back to a wall while Quill was lying beside me. I might have been sleeping, but when he started to move, I became alert.

  Could he open his eyes after what they’d done? His face was swollen like a bruised plum.

  “Bastien?” He muttered and strained to reach for my arm till he noticed his hand was wrapped.

  Two days passed, and we remained prisoners of the king kept in Jordan’s cells. If there were any relief, perhaps I’d count Quill’s recovery. He was sure to have many scars, and his hand had yet to be healed, but his face was returning to its better features. My heart could not have taken the loss had he died. In that world or any other, Quill was my only friend. A thief was my only and closest companion.

  In the years prior to my becoming a guard, I lived in several disjointed realities. I was a peasant, a commoner, a lesser citizen of the kingdom. Still, thanks to my father’s accumulated gold from numerous tours of war, I received the tutelage and study of a royal. Nobility wouldn’t dine at my table, but my privilege also put off other commoners. When my mother and father asked me what I wanted to do with my life, perhaps I should have chosen to become a breeder like my brother. Lyle never had my struggles. He had many friends. Maybe there was a time when I was like everyone else, a time when I knew names that I might ask to play. I was such a child then. When I began my studies, suddenly there was no one. I had no one for years till I had Quill. Did I have him? I wondered. Regardless, I couldn’t lose him, even if we were facing adversity in our friendship.

  Quill and I sat together for long hours watching Prim and Brisk bicker with one another on the opposite side of our shared cell.

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  “Why did they clip your fingers?” I asked.

  “They asked if I was a witch, and I told them a lie,” he explained.

  Prim, during her daily routine, made an effort to convince a guard to come to our cell. She tried everything from exposing her breasts through our bars to calling out in lustful pleas for help. The only attention she received was from Brisk, who pestered her for affection.

  “You don’t deserve this,” I said before adding with my eyes shut, “You’re as innocent as the rest of us.”

  “I’m a thief, aren’t I? There’s nothing innocent about me,” Quill argued with a soft, sarcastic laugh.

  There was a grimace that I noticed he shot whenever his injured hand moved or bumped against anything. He attempted to hide it, but we both knew the pain was a constant.

  “Why do you think we’re still alive?” I wondered aloud, to which he answered, “The gods saved us.”

  “The gods are dead,” I said.

  “They’ll come back someday. Gods don’t die; they sleep.”

  “But they didn’t save us,” I argued.

  With my head to the wall, I turned my eyes to the ceiling and watched as a spider wrapped a beetle.

  “I almost died a meaningless death. I nearly left this earth before seeing its wonders or meeting its people. The next time death pulls at my sleeve; I want to know in my heart that I’ve found the right place to say goodbye,” I spoke honestly, but could I believe my own words?

  “You’ll have to see more if that’s your wish,” Quill told me.

  Were we acquainted again? Had he forgiven my na?ve thoughts? Had I forgiven him for theft?

  “You can go anywhere. Why choose to be a prisoner for the rest of your life?”

  My eyes came down from the ceiling till I saw that he was watching me. Was he going to answer? Could he? I couldn’t imagine there was a reason valid enough to subject one’s self to such lower living.

  “My teacher, before she died, she and I planned to travel,” Quill started, and it perhaps startled me.

  I wasn’t prepared to learn of his past? He often kept it well guarded.

  “I told everyone of the adventure we meant to embark on, and it came at the cost of her life. We were in a city on another island far from here, where witches were in short supply. Everyone wanted her, but I was too blind to see my privilege,” he added.

  Hesitantly, I asked, “What happened to her?”

  “She died shortly after teaching me to escape. They would have captured me, probably killed me, had they known I had power like hers.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I’m a prisoner because it’s what I deserve. No one would ever have a fool like me as a student, a worker, a friend.”

  “I’m your friend,” I said, but he quickly argued, “I stole from you.”

  “We avoided death together. My father would say that makes us brothers.”

  If that wasn’t worth something, I couldn’t imagine what was. Quill didn’t deserve to be in that place, and neither did I.

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