Alaric’s iron gauntlet cracks hard against Helena’s mouth, causing blood to burst from her bottom lip. She stumbles back into the guard behind her. She finds no comfort against his hard chest. Instead, the guard shoves her back into her place in the circle. The king continues laying out his expectations, never stopping to answer her question. “Whoever completes the tunnel proves themselves to be strong enough to be my emissary into Cassé. You track down and bring that traitor to me, and you earn your freedom. Simple as that.”
Whimpers break out among the four other criminals, some in delight and others in terror. Alaric’s eyes flash with excitement, certain he’s baited the trap well enough that they will comply. After all, who could resist the potential reward of their freedom? Alaric’s satisfied smile reminds Helena of a fat housecat toying with five scrawny mice, more interested in killing the frightened rodents for cruel amusement rather than food.
Helena takes a moment to examine each of the other prisoners, sizing up her competition while she stands close to them. The first is a burly, broad shouldered man named Bryn. He wears a gross, dirty patch over his left eye, but his shoulders are still broad and muscular. It appears he’s kept up with his workout routine, finding ways to maintain his strength even from the depths of his cell. She faintly recalls Bryn’s transgressions against the court—the destruction of a local tavern that was a favorite among the guards. It was the guards’ retaliation to take one of his eyes. Helena had never understood why Bryn had earned a long stay in the prisons for such a thing, but his time on the inside had not managed to break his defiant spirit. Bryn stares hatefully at Alaric, harsh unspoken curses screaming from his hateful gaze.
The second, a young girl, looks like she can barely stand up straight, her mousy brown hair draping over her face. Whatever her crime, it must have been after Helena had earned her cell. She looks to be barely fifteen! Helena’s gut clenches at the thought of a child locked away in this place. What could she possibly have done to deserve this fate? The girl peeks through the curtain of her hair, her burnished caramel eyes landing squarely on Helena’s outraged face. She seems to shrink into herself under Helena’s scrutiny, and Helena forces herself to inspect the rest of the prisoners, hoping to ease the girl’s fear.
The third is a notorious thief by the name of Ellis. Helena remembers him well; she’d watched his trial and sentencing, marveling at his flippant, borderline defiant personality. He’d been caught sneaking out of a princess’s chambers with her tiara when he was only seven years old. He smiled all through his trial, and he practically skipped toward the prison guards, waving and blowing kisses in the air to all who watched him disappear. Looking at him now, Helena estimates his age to be around eighteen. His rail thin body and tired eyes are the only signs of prison life. Catching Helena’s eye, he smiles and winks, proving his spirit remains unbroken.
The last is another child, barely thirteen years old and hardly fit for such a task. His voice wavers as he addresses the king. “But no one’s ever survived the tunnel, Your Majesty. So how can one of us do it?”
Helena holds her breath, awed by the child’s bravery. She might be crazy enough to endure the punishments for speaking out of turn, but she had not expected a boy to follow suit. Watching Alaric’s eyes cut in the direction of the boy, Helena wishes she could grab the child and shield him. He shouldn’t be in a place like this! What could the boy have done that was so wrong? Her hands rattle the chains around her wrists as she instinctively reaches for him. But when her feet lurch forward, the guard behind her drags his hands across her waist, securing her in place before she can offer aid to the child.
“Well, just because nobody’s done it before doesn’t mean you can’t survive the tunnel! And I’d say that whichever one of you can accomplish it will prove to be worthy, wouldn’t you?” the king responds as he kicks the boy’s knees out from under him. He moans as they crack against the tiles, tears pouring from his pain widened eyes. “And if the tunnel kills you—well, that frees up a cell for another traitor, doesn’t it? Now, speak out of turn again, and I will not let the healers work on you. Think you’ll survive the tunnel without their aid?” He ignores the boy’s shudders as he addresses the group once more. “The guard behind you is your trainer. They will oversee your healing and progress until next we meet.” The sharp strikes of Alaric’s boots clatter on the stones as he strides to the exit. “Oh, and Helena, I chose your guard especially because I know you and he have such a good history. Enjoy your reunion, however short it may be.” He laughs to himself as the steel outer door screeches on its hinges.
Helena waits while the other prisoners and guards disperse to the infirmaries and kitchens. She can barely force her breath from her lungs as she listens to the sounds around her. Surely Alaric wouldn’t be that cruel? Even as she thinks the question, she scolds herself for being naïve. What am I saying? That bastard thrives on twisting needles of
