Chapter Twenty-One
"Jareth, Alena, Vela and Lokath
travelled for several weeks to the capital,
then hid in the Firian Woods until Tuqsan was teeming with visitors—
visitors who had come to celebrate the most spectacular celebration in all of Arsinuae—
The festival of Three Moons …"
—The Pasegean Scrolls
"Are you sure it’s safe to be in the city?"
Vela nodded. "Of course. The Moondance festival is to be held this night, so Tuqsan shall be overrun with people. Since it is a religious holiday, security will be low."
Jareth looked puzzled. "Strange, isn’t it? I mean, you’d think that there’d be more men protecting the Queen when so many people are in the city, wouldn’t you?"
She shrugged. "Should we question that which saves our lives?"
Grinning, Jareth motioned them into an alleyway. "Never mind that now. We’ve got to get into the castle somehow without raising alarm. Any ideas?" Although he had directed the question at Vela, whose skills in this department were unrivalled, Lokath spoke up.
"The dungeons."
They all stared at him. "The dungeons?" Alena questioned.
"Where won’t they expect us to come from …? The place where they’ll put us if they catch us."
Vela placed her hand on his shoulder. "Lokath, the dungeons will be one of the most heavily guarded places in the castle … does anyone else have an idea?"
Jareth and Alena both shook their heads apologetically. "Vela," Lokath pleaded, "please. If I’m ever going to get my life back, I have to make decisions on my own. Jareth and Alena don’t appear to have a problem with it … why do you?"
"Well, I mean … I just have a bad feeling, that’s all." Vela couldn’t tell him why she didn’t want him to revisit the dungeons; not after all the work she’d done to help him! She knew that if their suspicions were correct, and if the mercenaries had kidnapped Lokath that he would have been transported back to Chail for questioning. This could destroy him; cause him to relapse into what he was before I helped him! He could become angry and— Vela shuddered at the thought of Lokath’s actions once he remembered.
Still, there was nothing she could do but hope that his mind would be too focussed on the task at hand to remember anything from his life before.
No!
Chunia awoke, returning to the real world, the world that hated her, the world which wanted her dead—the world which had made her suffer.
She knew her time was near … the dreams of Jarrad had grown stronger, more painful with every passing day. As if he was getting closer, ever closer. But, since several days beforehand, they had stayed at the same intensity, as if he had stopped. Chunia willed him on, hoping for a quick death.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind. Chunia opened her mouth to scream but a rag was instantly shoved inside it. "Don’t say a word …" The voice sounded strangely familiar to Chunia, but she could not place it. "… or you’ll die right now."
This can’t be happening! Chunia’s mind was racing, trying to comprehend the situation. What about Jarrad?!
So, she said nothing. She was blindfolded then gagged properly, before being pushed roughly onto a chair. Then, they spoke. "Oh, your highness … so sorry for the intrusion. However, once I make my point clear to you—" she placed the point of her dagger at Chunia’s neck "—excuse the pun, if you will. What was I saying?" Then, she smiled. "Oh, that’s right. You can’t talk. You can’t scream. There’s only one thing you can do."
Jenko pulled the gag down, challenging her to scream. "What is it? I’ll do anything!"
Shoving the gag back into her mouth, Jenko scowled. "DIE!" And, with that, she pulled Chunia to her feet, then plunged the dagger into her stomach. Chunia felt like she was falling, and the world began to darken. With her last ounce of strength, she pushed at her assassin with all her might.
Jenko, not expecting an attack, stumbled backward, through the doorway and onto the balcony. She bumped up against the railing, causing her to lose her balance. Jenko screamed as she toppled over the edge, and continued to scream until her mouth met the cobblestones below.
Chunia collapsed to the ground, holding her stomach, trying to stop the blood gushing from her wound. Several moments later, she passed out from the pain.
The Chailan dungeons had two entrances: One branching from the castle foyer, the other just off the western road to Tuqsan, which was how most of the prisoners were led there. The wagons would stop there to unload the captured and collect their reward. Only one guard manned this entrance during the festival, as special guards were enlisted to patrol the streets for pickpockets, vagrants and drunkards. That single guard was easily knocked out, leaving the entryway free for the four adventurers to rush inside.
The miasma of Chailan dungeons was unrivalled throughout the Arsinuaen empire. This was not the first time Lokath had experienced it, and while he felt a sense of familiarity about the place, he could not remember. Jareth was also surprised by the fact that it seemed familiar to him, but that it had changed since he knew it. Alena was shocked by the brutality, while Vela did not even flinch.
What surprised them all was the lack of security. Obviously they feel that the uncaptured criminals are more dangerous than those already locked up. Alena was saddened by the suffering these people accepted as normal.
One cry was louder than the others, though. Lokath recognised that sound immediately. "Brianne!"
A whimper came from one of the cells, then a question. "Lokath?"
He rushed to the door, banging on it with his fists. "It won’t budge!"
Jareth and Alena glanced at each other for a moment, then tapped Vela’s shoulder. "We have a score to settle, and it cannot wait. Apologise for us, please … Lokath shall understand. Follow us upstairs when you are finished here." With that, they hurried along the passageways, longing for an end to the miserable dungeons.
Lokath slammed his body against the door numerous times, then glanced to Vela for help. His eyes pleaded for her to do something to repay the debt he owed Brianne. Kicking herself already, she grasped the battleaxe she had bought on the way to Tuqsan. "Stand back!" she called to Brianne, then began to chop into the wooden door. It was strong, but Vela’s skill and muscle soon broke through.
The door collapsed, and Brianne rushed out, rivers of white on her blackened face. "Brianne … what happened?" A concerned look spread across Lokath’s face. Brianne collapsed onto his chest, sobbing, choking out words which had no connection to the other. Lokath pushed her away for a moment and grasped her hands. "Brianne, you’ve got to calm down. Breathe, Brianne … breathe!"
Finally, Brianne stopped sobbing and took deep breaths. A few minutes later, she had regained her composure. "Oh, Lokath … it was so bad! So horrible … you don’t know how horrible. He—They … killed her. Mother. And kicked me out. I cried and cried but they didn’t stop. I crawled for who knows how long … time meant nothing. I was as if everything vanished but trying to numb the ache inside. Physical pain took my mind away from it, so I did whatever I could to push myself to the limit. Death would have been welcome, but it would not come. She … Elanora sent you, instead." Brianne threw her arms around Lokath, holding him and never wanting to let go.
Vela was growing impatient. "We must catch up with Alena and Jareth … quickly, now." They half-walked, half-ran through the labyrinth that were the Chailan dungeons. Eventually, they came to a large room which seemed familiar to Lokath. "Torture chamber," Vela murmured.
They ran through it, hoping that the door at the end of the room might lead them into the castle. Lokath tripped over a loose stone, and fell to the ground. Vela and Brianne rushed to him, struggling to help him. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw a bone pendant in front of him, caught between a stone. He pulled it loose and stared at the engraving.
"Syrah …"
Everything fell into place. He remembered her voice, her laugh, her smile, her eyes … Syrah. His life came back to him, and he remembered his mother, his father, when he was arrested for stealing in Capurna, who Vela really was.
A venomous look overcame his face. He stared up at Vela, then yelled: "Traitor!"
