I’m about to admit that I’m out of ideas when I notice an island just off the shore of Dather by Sard. Libertas is written in a small cursive print next to it. A small memory starts to return to me. I close my eyes and my father’s face swims into view. I watch as he hands me a small book. I see my little hand reach across the cover and open the book. The first page is a map of a single island. Scribbled across the top of the page is the title Libertas.
The island is broken up into five sections with the capital placed directly in the center. I hear my father’s voice say, “This is where we are moving to Adaline. This is where our new home will be.” There’s a loud knock on the door and I see worry rise in my father’s face.
I open my eyes and see the orange flick of a fire in front of me. I’m back in the woods. “Here. We are going here.” I let my index finger grace the map where Libertas is located.
“All right, then that’s where we are headed.” I look up to him and see a confused look on his face.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing, I just realized I don’t think I’ve ever heard anything about that island,” he says perplexed.
“I think I remember my father talking about it before,” I mumble. I hand the map back to Alexander and he places it back in his bag.
“Tomorrow will be another long day of traveling so we should get some rest,” Alexander says between a large yawn. He stands and starts to move his things into the small cave.
“In a second,” I say and lay down on the forest floor. I lay here on my side, watching the glowing orange fire dance against the black night backdrop. The thought of putting myself inside a small and closed space makes me sick. So instead, I lay out by the fire. It doesn’t take long for the bright orange flames to pull me into a heavy trance, and after a while my eyelids fall closed.
I awake to oddly familiar surroundings. The cold stone ground, being surrounded by a dark and dim light, the feeling of soreness in my back, and the eerie silence. It all suddenly reminds me of the cell my mother, Titus, and I were in for seven years. Then, pictures of Alexander and I in the woods appear in my mind. Did I just dream all of that?
My heart quickens as flashes of my life in the prison mix in with those of Alexander and I can’t keep the two straight. I’m caught somewhere between reality and what’s in my head. I hear the screams of the other children in the prison, slowly dying from starvation, their cries ringing in my ears. The man in the cell next to mine, Mr. Stevens, crying over the loss of his wife and daughter still haunting me. “I didn’t want to do it,” he cries over and over on an endless loop trying to force himself to believe he did the right thing by killing them so they wouldn’t have to suffer. All of these horrible things aching inside of me, but there’s one light. I see Alexander’s face, pure and comforting. It’s like coming home after being lost for so long. The flashes from the prison cell stop coming and the only sound in the dark room is my heavy breathing.
I roll over, half expecting to see my mother and Titus lying in the corner on the old torn up mattress, but find myself coming face to face with a sleeping Alexander. Relief and sadness wash over me. Relief that the memories from last night were not a dream, that I actually am here with Alexander, but sadness because it just reminds me again that my mother and Titus are really gone.
Alexander must have moved us into the cave after I had fallen asleep. It’s still dark outside, but I can start to make out rays of sunlight. I crawl to the entrance of the cave and try not to wake Alexander. I take in deep breaths of the morning air and remind myself that I am not locked up. I am not trapped. I look out of our small quiet cave and I see that our fire has died off overnight. I can still make out hints of smoke coming off the still warm stones.
There’s a soft sound of running water from the creek to my left. I look back into the cave and see Alexander still asleep, and then I turn back to the creek and see fish swimming through it. My first thought is to use my gift to move the fish from the creek to the hot stones. I look into the creek and follow the slimy creatures with my eyes. I focus harder and harder and try to see them from the creek to the stones. The creek starts to ripple and splash, but I can’t get control of any of the fish. It’s no use. The adrenaline from escaping the castle made using this gift much easier.
When I was younger my father used to take me out into the woods all the time. I remember one specific summer day when we had gone together. I was only five so my father carried me up on his shoulders. We had been walking along a creek that day and I remember looking down over his head at the little fish swimming in the currents.
“Daddy, I want a pet fish,” I squealed and kicked my feet against his chest.
“Adaline, we can’t take these little guys back with us. We have nothing to carry them in. Plus this is their home,”
