Damion rushes over to the cells closest to him, which are therefore the ones closest to the entrance, and begins unlocking the gates. Tribespeople and other prisoners alike come tumbling out. They emerge silently, as instructed by Orrian, to not risk attracting any more attention.
They needn’t have bothered. A pit opens in my stomach as the unmistakable sliding of a bolt somewhere above sounds once more.
“Damion!” Orrian hisses daringly loudly.
Damion sprints the length of the hallway to begin fumbling at our lock, meanwhile Orrian stands almost nose-to-nose on the other side, kicking his feet impatiently.
“I told you to unlock this one first,” Orrian complains half-heartedly, his attention fixed on the entrance beyond his people.
Damion doesn’t even bother to answer, allowing the soft click to do his talking for him. Orrian immediately yanks open the door and steps out of the cell with me hot on his heels.
“OI! GET BACK IN YOUR CELL!” a shout cries from the far end. Becker.
Over the heads of the tribespeople, I catch glimpses of armour in the shadow of the tunnel. I can only see three or four of them from here, but they are forced into single-file and so there is no telling if more are hidden behind them. They have their swords drawn and are slowly advancing towards us. Orrian’s people, weak and unarmed, back away from Becker and his soldiers as they rush in.
The inhabitants of the first cells are forced to retreat all the way down the tunnel, even if they had wanted to obey Becker’s orders, they would be unable to as he and his men stand between them and their abandoned cages. The bodies press into us as they are herded to our side of the dungeon, the furthest possible point from the exit. A sea of bodies now stands before myself and my mother.
“We need to go!” Orrian yells at me before charging to aid his people. I watch as he uses one of his men to catapult himself over their heads, diving through the air to tackle a soldier to the ground. The first strike, his tribal army follows his lead.
An iron gauntlet shoots its way out from the masses and pulls its owner through using the iron bars. The soldier swings and I avoid the blow only by throwing myself at his unarmed side. I hear a yelp behind me as I tackle the man around the waist. My weight alone wouldn’t be enough to topple him but thankfully Damion joins in the move, wiping a now bloody forearm across my face as he lunges. The soldier collapses and I pull Damion to his feet moments before the guard disappears. Horas has managed to reach through the bars and grab his arm, wrestling the sword from his grip as the soldier is swept away beneath the sea of trampling feet.
“Here!” Horas shouts, chucking the sword to me which I miraculously catch by the handle. My breath catches as memories swarm me, imaginary redness slides up my fingertips. A distant groan resonates between my ears for only me to hear.
“The keys! I dropped the keys!” Damion screams over the carnage.
I curse, Mother is still yet to be released from her cell. In fact, only three of the cells have been freed so far, the majority of the tribespeople are forced to remain in their own enclosures. They shout support and encouragement, occasionally managing to disrupt a soldier as they claw out from between their bars, but for the most part they are useless. I can’t panic, these people would have my back, so I need to have theirs.
An opening forms across the path and I throw myself into the barrier that separates my mother from the brawling. I drag Damion after me with my free hand.
“We’ve lost the keys,” I say, panicking.
My mother’s arm shoots out from between the bars and keeps me on my feet as I am knocked hard from behind. She squeezes my hand and the aching to free her grows stronger than I ever.
“Go! Find Alice!” she commands.
“No. I can’t leave you,” tears sting my eyes as I realise I might have to.
“I’ll be fine, get out of here. Find Alice. NO!” she screams moments before another force smashes into my side. Unlike the other, this blow was too heavy and targeted to not be purposeful.
I go tumbling past Damion and my head collides with the cold floor. I need to get up before I am buried, I claw at the bars and Damion grabs my sword arm, hauling me to my feet.
Becker stands before me.
I ready my blade, but before either of us can strike the crowd collides with him from behind. Avlym’s tormentor comes flying towards me, attempting to seize the opportunity and jab at my chest as he does. I parry the strike aside and kick his legs out from beneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground.
In mere seconds our positions have been reversed, it is I who now stands over him. He tries to raise his blade but his hand is immediately crushed beneath a boot, his fingers are protected but the force is still enough to send his weapon out of his grip.
My sword tip hovers over Becker’s throat. He has tortured us for too long, caused too much pain, so much suffering, and here he is in the heat of battle at my mercy. The fight raging around me blurs into the background, I am knocked and bumped into but in this world, there is just me and the monster at my feet. One thrust and his tyranny will cease to exist.
“Dale,” above all the chaos around me, I still catch my mother whisper my name.
I know I can’t do it now. As much as I want to, as much as that revenged-fuelled demon inside me urges me too, I cannot kill the
