Aila stretched her arms and got to her feet, Kelsey’s voice starting to irritate her. She glanced around the bare chamber, but there was nowhere to sit apart from the damp, stone floor. She walked towards the door until the chain fastened to her right wrist went taut. With her left hand outstretched, she could almost touch the sturdy wooden boards of the door, her fingers just inches away.
Footsteps echoed from the cellar passageways, and she took a step back as the door was unlocked. Maxin peered into the chamber, his crossbow levelled at the prisoners. He narrowed his eyes at them, then opened the door more fully. The other guard, and a young man in his teens entered the chamber, carrying a wooden pallet. They placed it in the corner of the room, then left, leaving Maxin alone.
‘This will take a few minutes,’ he said. ‘Don’t move or interfere.’
‘Do you know what would make me more cooperative?’ said Kelsey.
The guard looked her up and down.
‘Cigarettes,’ she said.
The other two men came back in, carrying blankets and a chair. Maxin watched them as they placed them down, then they left again.
‘Well?’ said Kelsey.
Maxin shook his head. ‘Fire hazard.’
‘You’re kidding, aye? Fire hazard? Is this the way it’s going to be? Are you going to feed us, or is food considered to be a choking hazard?’
‘You’ll be fed.’
The men returned, one of them carrying a large chamber pot, which he placed alongside the bed pallet. The other had a clay jug and a wicker basket, and he laid them down onto the floor.
‘That everything?’ said Maxin.
‘Yes, sir,’ said the other guard.
‘Everything except cigarettes,’ muttered Kelsey.
Amalia strode into the room as the others left, though Maxin hung back at the doorway, keeping his crossbow trained on the prisoners.
‘Welcome to your new home,’ Amalia beamed.
Aila edged back a step.
‘Don’t be nervous, granddaughter; if you behave, then there needn’t be a repeat of what occurred earlier. I imagine you have a few questions, so let me forestall them by telling you where we are. Have you heard of the town of Stoneship?’
Neither Aila nor Kelsey spoke.
‘I didn’t think you would have,’ Amalia said. ‘There is a string of ancient fortresses along the northern coast of Khatanax, built to repel invaders from a long-forgotten era, and Stoneship is one of those fortresses. In other words, we’re as far away from Shawe Myre as it’s possible to get. No one will find us here; it’s cut off from the rest of Kinell, and ships rarely stop. I bought this place for a pittance; it was built into the old sea walls, and it’s the perfect place to lie low for a while.’
‘And then what?’ said Kelsey. ‘You can’t be planning on staying on Lostwell forever.’
‘I have no fixed plans,’ she said. ‘One must await events, before one can decide the next move.’
‘You coward,’ muttered Aila.
Amalia smiled. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard. You had a chance to help us all, and you ran away.’
‘And why would I wish to help you? You and your friends destroyed my rule in the City, and I hear it is now run by mortals. But, more than that, so much more, you murdered Marcus; did you think I would forgive or forget?’ She took a step closer to Aila, her eyes dark. ‘I swore then that I would torture you for a millennium, so perhaps you should be grateful that I have not yet started. Your presence here irked me at first, but now I can see that you will be of use to me. I cannot kill Kelsey, but I can hurt you.’
‘You’ve got us where you want us,’ said Kelsey. ‘There’s no need to hurt anyone.’
The former God-Queen ignored her. ‘Do you know what else I can hurt, granddaughter? Or should I say “who else?”’
Aila said nothing, and backed up against the wall by the window slit.
‘Did you think I wouldn’t be able to tell?’ Amalia went on. ‘I knew the moment I touched your skin. You have another life inside you, a tiny, fragile life.’
‘What?’ said Kelsey.
Amalia laughed. ‘Didn’t she tell you? She’s pregnant. I could have easily snuffed out its life, but I didn’t; I refrained. Leverage, let’s call it; another reason to behave yourselves.’
Kelsey hobbled over, and raised an arm protectively in front of Aila, who said nothing, her eyes glaring at the former God-Queen with rage and fear.
Amalia laughed again, but it was a little forced. She turned away, and made as if she were inspecting their room.
‘We might go back to the City,’ she said, almost conversationally.
‘What city?’ said Kelsey.
‘The City, Holdfast girl. The place Aila comes from.’
Aila snapped out of her shock at Amalia’s words. She hadn’t felt so scared for a long time, and she knew at once that she wanted to keep the baby, but she also realised that she was now under Amalia’s power. She would do what she had to do to protect the life growing within her, even if that meant obeying her grandmother.
‘You would go back to the City?’ she said.
‘I know you think me well-travelled, granddaughter,’ she said, ‘but I have only ever been to three worlds – this one, the City, and my homeworld.’
‘Your homeworld?’ said Aila.
‘Yes. Did you think I appeared spontaneously one day? I was, actually, born to a mother and a father in a real place. However, my homeworld was a casualty of the god wars long ago, and is nothing more than a wasteland. Times would be desperate indeed, if I were to consider travelling back there.’
‘You’ve never been to Implacatus?’ said Kelsey.
‘No, and I have no desire to. The City is the only viable option. I had wanted Belinda to come with me, but it now looks as though that is well nigh impossible. So, we wait. If the Ascendants have the Sextant, then we see what they do with it. They
