The Silver Siren (Iron Butterfly 3)

My father once mentioned places like the pits, but he said they were called oubliettes, places of forgetting. An appropriate place for me as all I wanted to do was forget what I had done. After I had paced the small area back and forth, I finally collapsed in exhaustion and tears. My voice echoed up the shaft as I cried my heart out.

Pain, unending pain assaulted me.

I kept wiping my hands on my shirt, trying to wipe away the sin I had committed. Murder. I’d murdered Kael, and I truly knew I deserved to die.

I was a monster. I should be exterminated.

This wasn’t really a prison. I knew I could escape from a hole. The question was, without Kael, did I want to?

I was deep into my own self-hatred when a shadow fell over me and a rope plopped on the ground next to my leg. The rope moved back and forth as someone began to descend it. I didn’t care, and they didn’t deserve my attention. The weird rock formation on the wall next to me became extremely interesting, and I decided it required all of my attention. The shadow stepped away from the rope, and I could hear the sound of the rope being pulled back up.

Oh well. I had company. At least I wouldn’t die of boredom. The figure moved to stand in front of me. I recognized her when she kneeled in front of me with a condescending expression. I took my earlier words back. I think I would rather have died alone than face her.

Gwen. The woman Kael had once been engaged to and probably still loved. I pretended the tall beautiful SwordBrother didn’t exist and went back to examining my rock.

Gwen swatted my leg, prompting me to acknowledge her. It didn’t matter. I could ignore one woman. I could see her lips were moving and she was speaking, but I didn’t comprehend one word.

Her brows furrowed and her mouth formed a slim line. She prodded me again with her hand, and I rolled my head and glared at her, mimicking her solemn face. She stood up and I could see her mouth form words. She looked like she was yelling at me. I didn’t care. I really just wanted to close my eyes and wish away the annoying woman.

Then I caught the motion of her black boot as it pulled back to kick me in the side. Now that I wouldn’t allow. Her boot came forward, and I lunged forward and clenched it. I hit her behind the knee, twisted her foot, and pinned it under my arm, forcing her to fall backwards and roll to her stomach. I had full control of her, a great pressure lock on her foot, and I smiled.

“Don’t kick me,” I warned her. “Don’t you ever kick me.”

Her eyes widened in shock, but I didn’t see awe. I saw determination. Gwen screamed against the pain and pushed herself off the ground into me, forcing her leg to bend horribly. She gained enough footing to grasp my braid. She yanked and I saw white blinding stars.

I kicked out with my feet and wrapped them around her neck and squeezed.

Her hand snaked up and gave me a palm strike under the jaw. I lost the upper hand as we rolled again in the dirt.

Kicking and using every trick that I knew, I fought her.

Voices called down to us, but I couldn’t hear them over the beating of my frantic heart. All I knew was the fight. I pummeled the woman and took my own punishment. This wasn’t about killing or injuring her; this was a fight about honor, and somehow we both understood that. It lasted another five minutes.

We were equally matched.

Gwen stood up and wiped at her bleeding lip. She was covered in dirt and scratches, and her cheek was already starting to swell.

My head was pounding and something warm slid down my cheek. And my eye was hurting. However Gwen looked, I probably looked worse.

“Are you done wallowing?” she said, leaning down and resting her weight on her heels.

“I’m not wallowing.”

“I wouldn’t blame you for wallowing; you almost killed Kael. You probably should have been left down here for days not hours.”

“Wait…what?” Kael wasn’t dead? My befuddled brain instantly cleared and recalled the words she’d been yelling at me.

“Get up. Kael’s still alive.”

She stared at me, shook her head, and then whistled. A few seconds later, the large rope dropped down into the pit, followed by a second one that landed next to me. Gwen reached for one and wrapped it around her arm and foot. I walked over to the second and watched.

She smirked. “Pull!” she called. One second she was there; the next, Gwen disappeared, pulled upward.

Taking a deep breath, I mirrored her actions with the rope. My stomach dropped as I too was hauled upward. The sun hit my face, and I had to blink to adjust to the brightness. I pulled myself over the ledge and dusted off my hands. The two SwordBrothers that had pulled me up were winding the rope.

Alek was there, watching us come out of the pit. He reached over and gently touched Gwen’s swollen lip, and he looked at me not with disdain, but respect.

“Where’s Kael?” I demanded.

“In the infirmary,” he answered and turned to walk away.

I ran forward and followed behind him. Apparently, Kael’s abrupt attitude and lack of small talk was a family trait.

Every part of my being wanted to ask annoying questions, just to see if he was as calm as his brother. I followed Alek into a plain building that was similar in architecture to the rest of the village. Curtains closed off a wing. Alek pulled the white material to the side, and we ran into Alba just as she was leaving. She leaned over and whispered something to Alek who nodded his head in understanding.

Alba’s piercing gaze caught mine, but I was unable to read her expression as the small woman left us alone.

The room wasn’t fancy. It was filled with brown cots and a small table with a pitcher of water, a bowl, and a lone stool. There were no others in the wing that we were in, and for that I was grateful.

Kael was sleeping on the cot. A white blanket covered him, and he looked so helpless and young. I was taken aback and stared at him for a few minutes just taking him in, trying to figure out what was different.

He wasn’t in his normal black attire, but a simple white robe, which made his tan skin seem pale against his dark hair. I slowly sat down on the wooden stool, being careful to not disturb his sleep. It was odd, I finally decided, to see him so unadorned and without a single weapon. His eyelids flickered and he turned restlessly. Kael was dreaming. I watched him sleep, fascinated by the turn of events. For once, I was able to watch over him.

His strong chin showed just the lightest bit of stubble, and I studied his profile silently, noticing a small scar. I followed the hollow of his neck down to the exposed part of his chest—the part that the shirt didn’t cover up. I’d never been able to see it before, the pale criss-crossing of scars long healed. His body was covered with them. To have so many and still be so young! Some of the scars looked to be years old.

I turned to Alek who was still behind me watching my actions with interest. “How old are these scars?

“Oh, that long one there is probably a few decades old. That was an accident during weapons training. The small moon shaped one is from two years ago where I knicked him during a small scuffle over a game of cards.” Alek answered matter of factly.

“But that can’t be. Wait how old is Kael?”

Alek let forth a loud laugh as if my question surprised and delighted him. “What? Has my brother never told you?”

“No, I never asked because he only looked to be a few years older than me. But these scars on his body!” I reached out to touch Kael’s bare chest and my hand was enveloped by Kael’s large warm one.