Chapter 19
A Narrow Escape
The morning came too quickly. My body became alert almost the instant I heard movement at the cellar door. My limbs felt cold and sluggish. It had been a long time since I’d felt the bite of nippy air. The tiger in me had always kept me warm. It was strange being just me again. Not only was I missing my furry half but I found I was longing for the connection I felt with the goddess as well.
Though the young version of her sat very close, our link had been severed. It was as if the goddess and all that she was had never existed. The world needed her. With a start, I realized I needed her too. There was a great comfort in feeling the steady presence of someone always at your side. Even when we were apart, she was like an anchor tethering me not only to her but to the world.
As I reflected, I found I missed her glower and her self-assurance. Her mocking laugh, the one that used to irritate me, had somehow changed into something self-deprecating instead of a thing she used to hurt me. Now that I knew her better, I could see it for what it was. She’d been testing me, pushing me, to find out if I’d stay or if I’d run. Too often I’d run. The irony was, it took the remembrances of my younger self to realize Ana’s worth.
On the outside, she was fearsome, beautiful, untouchable. But I’d seen her melt whenever she found a child who needed her. I’d watched as she fought tooth and nail to defend the weak. She took no thought for herself. There was not a vain bone in her body. She was loyal to a fault and expected the same from her men and, I realized, from me. I was the companion the universe had fashioned for her and yet my heart and mind had never been hers. Not fully.
A man with a torch came down the row of cages and pulled out the children, encasing their thin wrists in iron and hobbling their ankles so they couldn’t run. They were given a sip of water, a crust of bread, and then were assigned various tasks. One by one they headed upstairs, disappearing from view.
When they passed by me, their wide eyes glanced toward my cage, and I could see they recognized me as the storyteller. A few smiled tentatively. The most frightening thing about watching the procession was seeing the relief on their faces when they were told they’d be spending the day sweeping floors, beating rugs, or helping carry wood to the kitchens. If they were happy about that, something else was seriously wrong. Soon the cellar was nearly empty, leaving Anamika and me as the only remaining captives.
A few men stopped at her cage. “You’ll be serving the master personally again tonight, so I’d get some rest while you can,” one of them said, tossing a crust of bread at her and handing through a cup of water. The man laughed. His smarmy expression confirmed my deepest fears. “He’s taken quite a liking to you. Can’t say I blame him though. It’s those eyes of hers, isn’t it?” he asked his companion.
“Imagine what she’ll look like in a couple years,” his fellow said and whistled.
“True,” the first man said, then frowned. “Of course, he’ll wear her out long before she becomes a woman.”
Enraged, I sprang to my feet and wrapped my hands tightly around the bars of my cage. My temper boiled hot enough to melt the iron. “Don’t even speak to her,” I warned, my voice hushed and menacing. “If either of you come near her again, I will kill you. Your pain and suffering will be so slow and terrible you’ll beg for death. That I promise you.”
One of the men inched back as if sensing my sincerity. The other boldly stepped forward and insinuated that I, too, must have a thing for green eyes. That was the last mistake the man made. Quick as a snake, my hand shot out and I grabbed the front of his shirt. Yanking him toward me hard, I bashed his face against the cage. His nose broke and blood streamed down his face. Before he could reach for his sword, I pushed his hand away and took it myself.
Grabbing the scrambling man’s neck, I ran him through the belly, then yanked the sword back to stab his friend as well, but the man hurried toward the stairs, shouting for help. Lifting the sword, I slammed it down on the lock of my cage, shoved the dead man aside, and did the same to Ana’s lock. When it broke, I opened her cage and beckoned her forward. She shook her head, her green eyes wide and frightened.
“I won’t hurt you,” I said. “I promise. Your father sent me to rescue you.”
“My…my father?” she asked.
“Yes. It was all I could do to prevent Sunil from following me.” I tried to smile but feared it looked more like a grimace.
Her eyes filled with tears at the mention of her brother, and she reached up a trembling hand and placed it in mine. She got up hesitantly as I glanced at the open cellar door. It was only a matter of time until reinforcements showed up, and moving slowly to encourage her trust was eating up the minutes. I tried not to think about what had been done to her, especially when I saw her limp. When I felt sure she’d come with me, I said, “Now stay behind me. I’m going to have to fight. When we get upstairs, I want you to find a place to hide. I’ll come for you, I promise.”
She nodded and we started up to the cellar door. A mercenary met me at the top, but I dispatched him quickly enough and threw his body down the stairs. Reaching back behind me, I felt for Ana and brushed her shoulder with my fingertips. I tried to ignore the fact that she immediately pulled away. “Come on,” I said gently. “We’ve got to keep going.”
My eyes stung in the light after being trapped in the dark for so long. I was met only by the frightened faces of two children when we reached the main level of the house. I gestured that they should join us and get behind me. We made slow progress through the rooms. The clinking chains of the children made me wince. Soon I had Anamika and six of the others. I had no idea how I was going to get us out safely. With the number of men guarding the citadel, it was practically impossible, but I had to try.
I held my finger to my lips to keep the children quiet as I peeked in room after room. They were all empty. As silently as I could, I opened cupboards, looking for more weapons or for keys to the children’s chains, but found nothing except a kitchen knife. I slid it into the waistband of the sash wrapped around my waist. Creeping through the house, I came upon the front door and opened it just a crack. There were too many guards.
Pressing my head against the door, I whispered a silent plea for help though I didn’t really know who could help me. The children followed me to the back of the house, moving as soundlessly as they could. It was surprising just how good they were at being quiet. It wasn’t right. Children should be laughing and playing, not cowering in fear.
My eyes took in everything as we passed through the back of the house—the lack of adults, the hasty mess that been left in a recently vacated kitchen, the pile of dirt on a half-swept floor. This was a trap. I could feel it. When I peeked out the back door and saw no one, I breathed a little sigh of relief. Turning to the children, I warned them to stay behind me and follow my lead. From the angle of the sun, I could tell it was midmorning. We made it all the way to the corner of the house, but there were too many men for me to get past.
Stealing back in the direction we’d come, I looked around the other corner and saw a similar scene. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a sword being drawn. Slowly, I turned and saw that we’d been surrounded. While we’d been creeping around the house, the men on the other side had gotten into position. Several of them held children in tight grips while many others had bows and arrows trained on me, ready to fire.
All I had was a handful of children now pressed behind me against the house, a bloody sword, and a knife. I’d failed. The irrational hope that luck would somehow find me burned away and blackened, leaving an ashy taste in my mouth. Looking up, I could see dozens of reinforcements who’d been hidden before, suddenly standing up on the battlements above. The master of the slaves stood among them looking down on me with a mixture of disappointment and sorrow.
Wearing a new turban, this time green, the man who bought me pushed through his men and clapped his hands, a saccharine grin on his face. “Well done,” he said. “I must commend you for getting this far.”
I said nothing in response.
He eyed me shrewdly. “I have to say, I’m a bit surprised. You didn’t go after the treasure I thought you would.” The man peered at the children behind me, specifically Anamika. “Though I cannot disparage your good taste”—he reached into a bag and pulled out the phoenix egg—“I have to admit that I’m disappointed to see that you chose to leave this behind. Perhaps it is not as valuable as I thought it was.”
The turbaned man rolled the egg between his hands and continued. “It was left on a table in plain view for you, but you passed right by it, as if you didn’t even care about it at all. But, then, I suppose it is possible you would have returned for it later.”
The phoenix egg sparkled in the light of the sun. Truthfully, I hadn’t even seen it. I was too focused on saving Anamika to give the truth stone any thought.
The man instructed a few of his soldiers to remove the children as well as the sword I carried. I gave it over easily. So far, they hadn’t discovered the knife. While they were distracted with the children, I casually pulled it out of my sash and pressed it into the young boy’s hands who stood behind me on the left. I recognized him as the one who resided in the cell beside mine. When I glanced back, the knife had totally disappeared and there was no sign of it in his clothing. I winked when he gave me a slight nod.
The turbaned man approached, not at all afraid of me. I suppose he shouldn’t have been, not with over fifty men at his disposal. When the men had led off every child except Anamika, a man stepped up and took hold of her arm. “Gently, gently,” the turbaned man warned. “No one hurts this one but me.” He gave Ana a cloying smile, touching her cheek with his finger, and she visibly shrank. It was if all the bones in her body were melting beneath his gaze.
“Get your hands off her,” I threatened.
My new owner turned interested eyes on me and laughed heartily. “Have you fallen under her spell as well? She is a pleasant diversion. I have to admit as much.”
He watched Ana until her slight form disappeared into the house. My hands tightened into fists. I wanted to sink my claws into his quivering belly and slowly eviscerate him, then watch as the scavengers closed in. Only then, after he’d suffered, would I open my mouth and bite down on his skull, crushing it while I ripped his head from the stump of his neck so that the last thing he’d ever see would be my teeth before he spun into the darkness where such evil souls belonged.
“Now then,” he said, oblivious to my dark thoughts. “I think you and I have much to talk about.” For a heavy man, he moved quickly. Spinning, he shouted over his shoulder, “Bring him.”
Now that I’d been outside, the redolent stench of the cellars was obvious to me, even without my tiger nose. The man I’d killed was still in the same spot, and the turbaned man slipped in his blood, smashing his shoulder on a cage. “Clean that up,” he hissed angrily at a man behind him as he straightened his tunic.
Without ceremony, I was slammed into the same chair I’d sat in before. My feet were manacled to the floor but only one of my hands was fastened behind my back. The burly guard took my other arm and slammed it down on the table. I tried to wrench it away, especially when the turbaned man slid a blade from the pouch he’d set down. “Hold him,” he said as he approached.
They had to bring in another man to hold me down. An hour later I was exhausted and bleeding from several deep cuts on my forearm. He hadn’t even asked me a question. “Now then,” he said, as he walked behind me. “I’ve left your fingers and hands alone for the time being simply because I think you might need them to release the magic inside the egg.”
“What makes you think it has magic?”
He raised his eyebrows. “There are many stories of such treasures. I’m a man who barters for money but also in secrets. I know something of value when I see it. There is magic in this stone. I’d bet my life on it.”
“I know value when I see it too,” I spat. “And you aren’t worth the lice living on the backs of beetles, eating the dung that clings to your camel’s—”
The punch came from the side and I felt a molar loosen in the back of my mouth. I spat blood and was gratified to see it landed on the turbaned man’s pristine jewel-crusted shoes. He hopped back and picked up a knife with a carved hilt. His face mottled, he brought the blade to my throat and could have easily drawn it across, especially when his guards grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, exposing it.
He seemed to think better of ending my life, and his eyes grew thoughtful as he drew the side of the blade down one cheekbone and then the other in a menacing sort of caress. “You’ll regret that,” he said, almost too pleasantly. “Now then, where was I? Ah, yes. I was talking about value and why I’ve left your fingers attached to your hands. I would assume you are intelligent enough to value them. I am fairly certain you don’t need two ears though.”
He pressed the knife into the skin between my ear and my scalp. “What do you want to know?” I asked as warm blood trickled down my face.
“You already know the answer to that question,” he said, panting with something akin to joy. “Don’t waste my time.”
“I’ll tell you how to work the magic,” I said. “But you have to give me something in return.”
He paused. “Is your life not enough of a gift?” he asked.
“Let her go and I’ll stay here, work for you, be your slave, whatever you want. Just let her go.”
“Of whom do you speak?” he asked, walking around to face me.
“You already know the answer to that question,” I said with a mocking grin.
Livid, he slammed the knife down, pinning my hand to the table. It hurt but I’d been hurt worse before. Fiendish delight lit his face, but his exuberant expression soon fell when he saw I didn’t scream, beg for my life, or even flinch.
I looked down at the knife and then lifted my head to show him I had no fear of anything he could do. He narrowed his eyes slyly, then lifted another knife and plunged it into my shoulder. Blood pooled around the wound, coursing thickly as he twisted it. I grunted but, again, didn’t cry out, sensing he was the type who liked that sort of thing.
The puffs of his breath washed over me as he stared into my face, seeking signs of my faltering. The fact that he enjoyed the torture was obvious. That, more than the pain he inflicted, made me want to hurl my dinner, not that I actually had any food in my belly.
“This is becoming monotonous,” I said. “Either kill me or let her go. I’m not afraid of death. I’ve stared it in the face too many times, but I assure you, I am a man of my word. I will tell you the secrets of the egg if you release her. You just have to decide how badly you want it.”
He studied my face intently. Finally, he pulled away and nodded to his guard, who removed the knives and tightly wrapped my wounds. The tang of my own blood permeated the room. Slowly, patiently, the turbaned man cleaned his knives and inserted them back into the pouch of tools he used to torture people. I watched him with indifference as I pressed my tongue against my loose tooth.
This man had a lot in common with Lokesh, I decided. But Lokesh was a hard act to follow. I’d seen much worse than this fellow could dish out. The blood soaked the wrapping on my shoulder and hand and continued to trickle down my face as well. The hot beads of blood dripped from my chin and stained my shirt, but I felt distant from the whole thing.
Strangely, I was almost grateful to Lokesh for that. Overcoming him had given me a level of self-confidence that I’d never had before. His utter ruthlessness required us to elevate all our heroic, brave instincts to fight him as equals. Without him, I wouldn’t have the fortitude and strength I possessed. Any other villain I’d faced since—warlords, despots, tyrants, and criminals—just couldn’t compare. This one, though, deserved to die. And would, in fact, perish at my hands or claws, at my first opportunity.
He didn’t scare me. His knives, the posturing, and his flights of rage were nothing more than inconveniences. I honestly didn’t care about the weapons he traded either, or the fact that he bought and used slaves. But a man who did such things to children deserved the wrath of the goddess and her tiger, and one way or another, we would rain it down upon him.
When his knives were put away, I said, “Take the stone between your hands.” After he did, I added, “Now, tell me that you will let the girl go free.”
He hesitated for just a beat and then said, “Yes, yes. If you tell me the secret of the magic, I’ll set her free.”
The phoenix egg stayed dark. “You’re lying,” I said.
“You are in no position to question—”
I shook my head. “No. I mean, I know you are lying because the stone stays dark. When someone speaks the truth, the stone glows from within. Watch it carefully, and I will show you.” Leaning forward, I said, “When I escape, and I assure you I will, there will be no shadow too dark, no closet too hidden for me to find you, and when I do, I will bring your death within that hour.”
When I finished speaking, the truth stone glowed with an inner light, and the turbaned man lifted his hands away quickly, crying out, “It lives!”
“Yes,” I said. “It is a living thing, and when the truth is spoken, it glows.”
He sat back and rotated the stone, peering at it carefully as it dimmed. Tilting his head, he said, “This is a trick.”
“It is no trick,” I said. “Test it yourself. See if you can trap it in a lie.”
The man sat back, licking his lips as he looked from the stone to me with heavy lids. “My mother died when I was four,” he began.
The stone glowed, illuminating his face with a devilish light.
“I love camels,” was his next attempt and the fire inside the stone darkened. “I can trust my personal guard,” he said, and the stone stayed dim. He made eye contact with the guard at my side and the man swallowed, his forearms tensing.
Ignoring the guard for the moment, he uttered statement after statement, declaring everything from his favorite fruit to the name of a mouse he’d once kept as a pet to the place where he kept his gold. Truth, lie, lie. He then practiced on his guard, asking him a series of questions, and it quickly became evident that all was not as he had supposed within his household. This went on for some time until he finally sat back, satisfied.
“This is a valuable treasure, indeed,” the man said. “With such an object, no man will ever be able to lie to me again. There are so many possibilities.”
My mind worked at the same time his did. There were many things a man such as him could use the stone for. It was dangerous leaving it in his hands.
“Why did you leave it behind?” he asked me, pulling me from my thoughts.
I shrugged. “Saving the children was more important.”
He glanced down at the stone but it remained dark.
Sighing, I said, “I didn’t see it.”
The egg glowed.
“Ah.” He smiled contentedly. “I find there is much I want to ask you, but I confess that I’d like to test out this stone of truth a bit further first. Take him back to his cell,” he said to the guard and then warned him. “And do not think I will forget the truths the stone revealed about your loyalty,” he said. “I’d tread very carefully if I were you.”
The nervous guard bowed quickly and jerked me to my feet, cuffing me for good measure before his master left, shutting the door behind him.
“He’s going to kill you, you know,” I said as he escorted me back to my cell.
“Shut up,” he warned.
The man shoved me into my cell and headed up and out the cellar door, locking it as he did. Even though it was early afternoon, we were all plunged in darkness. I took the edge of my shirt and pressed it against my bleeding mouth.
When the footsteps above disappeared, I heard a soft voice nearby. “I’ve still got the knife,” the boy whispered. “I’ve used it to open my lock.”
“Good job, son,” I said. “Do you think you can open mine?”
“I think so.”
“Be careful. When you hear them come back, make sure you get back in your cell and close the door.”
“I will.”
A moment later, I heard the swing of his door as it creaked open, and soon the young boy was working on my lock.
“I can’t do it,” he said. “Here. You can try yourself,” he added, trying to pass me the knife through the bars of my cage.
“You’re going to have to do it,” I said gently. “My hand has been injured.”
“Did he take your fingers?” a voice two cells away asked. “He took two of mine.”
I sucked in a deep breath, trying to swallow the pain I felt for this young person who’d suffered at the hands of the soulless turbaned man. “No,” I answered quietly. “I just can’t move my hand. I’m sorry he hurt you,” I told him. “We’re going to get free. All of us.”
It took several more minutes for the boy to pick my lock. Then he moved to another cell. He’d opened several locks and had started working on the other side when we heard the click of boots on the floor above us. “Hurry back to your cell!” I said. “Don’t forget to shut your door and hide the knife!”
The boy had just managed to get into his cell and shut the door when the cellar door opened. “Here’s your dinner,” the man said as he ladled a pungent stew into a bowl and shoved it toward the grasping hands of each child. When he reached the third cell, he banged his arm against it and the door creaked open.
“You bleeding idiot!” the man said to his helper guard. “If the master found out you’d left the cage unlocked, he’d break your ankles and leave you in the desert to rot!” In disgust, he locked the door and then studied the next one. “This one too? Unbelievable! Check them all.”
When they got to my cage, they both eyed me suspiciously, but I lay facing them, pressing my shirt to my mouth, and groaning. They searched me but found nothing. Continuing on, they methodically tested all the cages, and since only a few had been unlocked, the guard blamed his fellow rather than suspecting foul play.
Once all of us had a bowl of stew and a cup of water, they opened Ana’s cage and pulled her out. “Master wants to see you,” the man said. They stood clear of me though I still lay prone near the wall. They must have heard the story of how I’d killed the other guard.
The moment they disappeared and the cellar door closed, my young friend began picking his lock again. “Hurry,” I said. “I’ve got to help her.”
When he opened his cage, he began frantically working on mine. Once mine was unlocked, I took the knife from him and headed to the cellar door. Even with the weapon, there was no way to open it. I cursed the fact that Ana was in the hands of the turbaned man and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
The young man tugged at my shirt and asked if he should open the other cells. I shook my head and then explained since he couldn’t see me, “No, not tonight. We have to wait for the right opportunity. I need to figure out a plan of escape that will succeed.”
We returned to our cages and I gave him my stew but drained the cup of water. I sat awake all that night with my head in my hands, imagining the terrible suffering my Ana was going through. This was my fault. If I had been a better tracker… If I hadn’t left the door to our home open… If I hadn’t run every time things became hard… Over and over I berated myself.
Every day, I kept vigil over her small cage, watching her trembling limbs and the way she stared distantly at nothing. Every night, I made myself look as she was removed from her cage and taken upstairs to entertain the turbaned man. The man had only come down once to summon Ana himself. He stared directly at me as he did so, fully knowing he was breaking his promise. In the torchlight, I could see there was something different about him.
His skin looked sallow. He’d lost flesh and the veins in his hands appeared dark, almost black beneath his skin. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot and his fingers shook as he told his men to hurry. I remembered then the warning the phoenix had given me. He’d said that the heart of the phoenix within the truth stone would destroy anyone who used it to hurt others. Perhaps the turbaned man’s sickly mien was indicative of this.
The fifth night, our opportunity came. We listened for the telltale click of the lock on the cellar door after Ana was escorted upstairs, but it never came. My skin was feverish and I knew I was suffering from blood poisoning. My wounds had gone untreated and they were beginning to fester. Despite this, I was determined to save Ana at any cost, even if I died in the process.
My young friend opened his cage and mine with his secreted knife and then proceeded to open the remaining cages. Since they weren’t shackled, the children were able to move quietly. In the time we’d been together, they’d given me a detailed description of the home. One even knew of a hidden passage that led out from the master’s bedchamber in case of attack. Our plan was to head directly to the master’s room, kill him and any guards who stood in our way, and then make our escape through the passage.
Quietly, I lifted the cellar door and motioned for the children to go out first. They were adept at finding hiding spots. Their instructions were to stay hidden while I engaged the guards and then follow me as silently as possible. When the last child had disappeared, I crept out and made my way directly to the master’s chamber.
I took out one guard by slashing his throat, catching his body as he fell. Leaving him behind, I went on. When I looked back, I saw the children stashing his body in a cupboard and cleaning up the blood. There was a brief scuffle as I took out two more. As quickly as the first, the bodies were taken away. Then we were at the hall leading to the master’s chamber. Lacking an easy way to sneak up on them, I knew I’d have to attack them directly.
Before I could, the brave boy who I’d called my captain darted out into the hall and then stood there long enough for the guards to see him. They called out after him and gave chase. I took down one and then sunk my knife into the spine of the second as he was dragging the boy back to the cellar. The children tossed the bodies into the cellar and locked it. Now nothing stood between us and the door.
I tried the handle but it was locked. Quietly, I put the knife between the two doors and lifted the latch. The room was lit by a small coal fire and a huge bed sat in the center of the room. On a nearby table, sitting on a pillow, was the gleaming truth stone. I pointed to the young boy who’d been my right hand and the stone and he nodded. He nabbed the stone and handed it to one of the girls behind him as he dug through a pile of clothes until he found a shirt and made a makeshift bag from it.
The master was sprawled on the bed, snoring loudly. As I approached, I noticed his skin was now tinged blue and it appeared as if it was peeling in many places. It wasn’t until I got closer that I could see a small body pressed against his. I slid the blanket down a bit and saw Anamika, her eyes glossy and wide as she stared up at me. Her face contorted in pain and she whimpered softly. I cursed softly, knowing I probably looked like just another looming man in the dim room, and quickly stepped back so she couldn’t see me.
While I was at the bed, the children found the hidden passage, and the young boy was waving his arm, making sure all of our young prisoners escaped. Raising my knife, I plunged it into the neck of the snoring man, who woke suddenly, squealing like a pig. Quickly, I dashed around the bed and scooped up Ana in my arms. She suddenly came alive, bucking and kicking, but I’d grabbed the blanket at the same time and wrapped it around her, securing her limbs and wishing I had more time to be gentle with her.
With a final look at the dying man, I turned and headed down the passage following the light of a torch held by one of the children. Ana suddenly stopped struggling. Her head fell to one side, her eyes still open. It was as if she’d locked herself far away. My own eyes filled with tears as I bent close and whispered to her, “Please forgive me.”