The Parallels
SIX

“Hold her!” a woman’s voice commands.

The Herrings have caught me. Soon I’ll feel the whip tear open my fresh wounds. I fight against the hands holding me down; then I recognize Darius’s voice.

“It’s almost over,” he says. “She’s drawing out the last of the Starflower.”

I cling to his steady certainty. The veils Darius cast over Stirlarst Lake prevented the use of magic to travel directly there. The closest one could get was seventy miles away, which meant we’d journeyed nearly a week on foot before the Starflower rendered me too weak to continue. I barely remember the last few days let alone how we came to be in a warmly-lit cabin on the edge of a crystal blue lake.

Another torrent of agony flashes down my spine, and I scream into the sweat-drenched cloth spread out beneath me. After a few moments, Darius releases his vise grip, and I go limp with relief. The echo of pain is there, but it’s nothing more than a faint murmur.

“Darius, time for you to leave,” the woman’s voice says with gentle authority. “Best to lie here a little while longer until the Ice Blossom fully settles in. Most poisoned with Starflower don’t live through that treatment.” She speaks from directly behind me before moving to my side and placing a cold cloth on the back of my neck. “I’m going to check my work.” I feel the warmth from her hands hovering above my scars. “If I’ve done this correctly you shouldn’t feel any pain.”

“And if you didn’t?” I ask.

“Then I’m sorry.” She gently places her fingers on my back, and I breathe a long sigh of relief. There’s no pain. No dull ache.

“I don’t understand. Where am I?” I ask.

She laughs. “I think you’re ready to sit up.”

I pull my hands to my side and am about to push myself up when I remember I am completely naked save for the blanket over my legs. I ease myself back down, motioning to my naked upper half.

She chuckles. “I’ve seen most of you already, girl.”

“Let’s at least pretend I have some dignity left,” I say lightly.

“Spirited too.” She cocks her head to the side, stares at me for a moment, then walks to the door.

“I’ll be outside with Darius. Call to us when you feel presentable,” she says sarcastically.

A sage colored dress hangs on a nearby chair. Next to it sits a steaming mug of tea. I pick up the dress, surprised by its lightness as it drapes over my body. At first, the dress loosely hangs until the hairs on my arms prickle with the undercurrent of magic, and the fabric tightens to form perfectly to my frame. The emerald sleeves wrap securely around my arms without being constrictive, and two long slits draw up the sides of the billowing skirt to allow for ample movement. Interweaving flowers and vines wrapped around two opposing daggers decorate the front.

“It’s a warrior’s dress.”

I jump at the sound of Miriam’s voice. She’s standing in the doorway watching me. The wind unfurls tendrils of her long black hair, winding them around her neck and shoulders. She doesn’t make a sound as she shuts the door and walks to me. From the way she holds herself, I wonder if she was the warrior who wore it last.

“It was mine when I was just a girl.” Bits of green reflect in her near black eyes. “Here.” She crosses behind me and brushes my hair off my back before tying the two loose ribbons on my waist. “We’ll need to keep your wounds aerated and apply Ice Blossom twice a day for the next few days,” she says delicately. “But all of the Starflower is gone, thank the Mire.”

She turns me around. I can’t help but see the similarities between her and Levain, though subtle they may be. Both have a calming presence laced with a matronly sternness that tells me they’re not to be crossed.

“Thank you for helping me.” I tap my two fingers to my heart.

She nods slightly. “If you’d like, I can fix your hair, so it stays up and away from your wounds.”

I sigh heavily, and she directs me to the nearby stool, handing me the fragrant mug of tea in the process. She opens the drawer of a nearby hutch and returns with a small box full of leather cord. She stands behind me and begins braiding small sections of my hair. I take another sip of tea. Its warmth spreads out over me, but my back remains cool.

“How is that you’re still here?” I ask.

Most skilled healers were forced to relocate to Fairvale on the orders of Blackthorne. He didn’t want to leave any advantages for those that did not adhere to Purist ideology.

She secures the last braid to my head then takes a seat on the chair directly across from me.

“Darius is a gifted veiler, as you can imagine.” A mage who managed to infiltrate the Herrings and then become their leader would be nothing short of gifted. “In his time living here and visiting, he created layer upon layer of untraceable veils. He’s protected me all these years.”

“Is Darius your son?” I ask frankly, unsure of the connection.

She shakes her head slightly, smiling to herself. “Not by blood, no, but in every other way that matters, yes.”

As if on cue, the cabin door swings open, bringing with it a gust of cold air. I look over my shoulder. Darius stands in the doorway. Two hares dangle from his hands. His gaze falls on us and lingers on me a little while longer before he kicks the door shut.

“I’ve found us some dinner.” He looks just as tired as before, but his steps are lighter, less guarded.

Miriam rises from her seat. “I’ll make a stew to go with those,” she says, gesturing to the rabbits. I begin to stand, but her voice stops me. “Drink your tea and rest.”

Miriam’s slender frame and delicate features don’t reveal the fighter I gather she was trained to be, given the ease with which she handles a knife in the kitchen. I would bet that paired with Darius’ muscular build and sheer size, that they’d be deadly fighting together. I observe their movements until I’m finally allowed to help, even if it’s only to pour honey mead. When dinner sits before us, we give thanks to the Mire and drop into a comfortable quiet. It’s not until his second helping that Darius finally speaks.

“They’ll be expecting me soon,” he says between bites.

“Then you’ll go.” Miriam leans back and looks to me, then back to Darius. “Nothing has changed.”

Darius leans back. “She wants to go too.” He nods to me, and I can tell by his tone that he thinks it’s a bad idea.

If he didn’t bother hiding his emotions, then I certainly wasn’t going to. “You act like I have a choice in the matter. Haven’t you already made up your mind?”

Miriam touches my shoulder affectionately. “You’re not our prisoner, Julianne. You most certainly do have a choice.” She looks back at Darius.

He quickly interjects. “The choice is to remain here until I return and can escort you back to Northpoint or go there yourself.” His tone is surprisingly stern.

It mustn’t be precisely what Miriam meant because she fires back. “Or,” she says pointedly, “you go with him.”

“Now wait a minute.” He sets his cup down hard enough that the wine spills over the edge. “She can’t come with me.”

“Why is that? You’re a commander, remember? No one will dare question you.” Miriam waves her arms in the air before settling them on her lap.

I’d only just said the same thing to him yesterday, or what that a week ago? The days have bled together since I left my kin.

Darius’s knuckles turn white as he grips the sides of the table. “And why would she come with me, huh? What’s the point? I can free them on my own.” He clenches his jaw in a wave of anger so palpable I can taste it.

Miriam’s voice drops. “Because,” she rests her hand on his, “people need to see what’s happening. If things are going to change, people need to know. You said it yourself only two moons ago. No one knows what’s going on and because of that, no one will dare fight against the atrocities you’ve seen or against the people causing them. Not in the way they should be fighting at least.” I note the tinge of disgust that laces the last of her words.

“My uncle Silas was captured by the Herrings during the Great Purge.” This gets his attention. “He’s never told me about what happened, but he’s scared of the dark.” I look up at him in earnest. “What kind of thing makes a grown man scared of the dark?” We hold each other’s gaze. Miriam stays silent between us but takes my hand under the table.

“The sort of thing you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to forget,” Darius finally says, reaching for his cup. “If you wish to accompany me then I won’t try to stop you.” He pauses. “Not that I think I could anyway.” Being amenable wasn’t a strength of mine.

“When do we leave?” I ask before he changes his mind.

Darius looks at me once again before rising from the table and leaving the cabin.

Miriam shakes her head. “He doesn’t want to put you in danger, he just doesn’t know to say it.”

“My kin will have already arrived safely to Northpoint by now, so if I can help free the other prisoners and lead them to safety, then I have to try at least.”

Miriam leans back. “Ay, he believes there’s a chance, otherwise he’d have taken you to Northpoint already.” She looks to the cabin door. “He’s spent the last five years fighting to become commander so that he could save as many as possible. He’s either scared that will fall apart once you arrive...” she pauses and meets my gaze. There’s an unsettling knowing in her eyes as if she sees through me, “or he’s scared of something else entirely.”

I can barely keep my eyes open the next morning as I pull on my dirty, bloodstained tunic. We’d spent most of the night pouring over maps and finalizing our story. Darius insisted I wear my dirty clothes. Personal prisoners usually kept by high-ranking Herrings never remained alive for more than a few days, so it would be vital that I appear on the verge of death.

I needn’t ask why they died so soon—the answer is written on his face as we pack. I lace the strings on my pants and remind myself that everything I’m seeing is just a mirage. Darius dresses just outside the kitchen window. Miriam says he refuses to enter the cabin veiled as a Herring. Studded leather armor spans the length of his body that’s coated with jet-black animal hair, like that of a bear, though retains his human features as well. He’s part man, part animal and unrecognizable from the Darius I’d come to know over the past few days.

I stare down at my own hands, which look normal, but when I glance in Miriam’s small hand mirror, I realize the extent of the veil. My bloodshot eyes pop against the grayish hue of my thin skin. I don’t dare look at my back, scared that the reality matches what I’ve imagined. I’m the perfect prisoner of a Herring commander: frail, weak, and broken.

“You look terrible,” Miriam says, appraising me. She leans in closer. “And you smell terrible too.” “Good work,” she calls to Darius, who is securing the last of our belongings in his bag.

One look from Darius tells me that Miriam is right.

He kneels in the doorway. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with Miriam.” Even his voice is different. He smiles ever so slightly, giving me hope that he believes that this will work. “You do stink. I can smell you from here.”

I respond with a creative hand gesture, which makes him smile even wider, causing his bottom fangs to jut out even further. For just a moment, I think he forgets he’s veiled. Though when Miriam hands me my belt, and I remember the Everberry inside, my face falls along with his smile. He takes one more look at me and steps away from the cabin positioning himself at the edge of the lake. I feel Miriam watching me as I watch Darius.

“I can’t imagine,” I mumble to myself fixated on his figure trying to picture the real Darius hidden beneath the disguise.

“Imagine what, dear?” Miriam comes to stand by my side.

“He’s trying to save as many as he can, but at what cost? How much time does he spend pretending to be a Herring compared to the time he allows himself to be…”

“A man.” She finishes my thought.

“Ay.” In a way I pity him and the undertaking he’s given to himself.

Miriam pulls my hair away from my back. “You should have this,” she says holding out a transference stone in her palm. I look up at her questioningly. “He gave it to me years ago as a means to escape just in case they ever found me.”

“Who was looking for you?” I take the stone and tuck it away.

“A story for another time,” she says, smoothing my hair just as Levain had done a hundred times before.

“You’ll have to tell me about that when I return,” I say, hoping to sound more confident than I feel.

“Hold onto your spirit. For what you’re about to see will shake its very foundation,” she says darkly.

“It’s time,” Darius calls from outside.

We bid Miriam goodbye and replace ourselves looking out over the water.

“If anything should go wrong, don’t hesitate to use the stone to travel back here,” he says not taking his eyes from the still surface.

He palms his transference stone in one hand and extends his other to me. I take his hand and the ground gives way beneath our feet. Every part of me stretches, as if being spread thin over something sharp.

I cry out in pain, and then as quickly as it comes, it disappears. I fall to the ground in front of the distant, jagged mountains of the Twin Frontiers Post.

The mountains split open, revealing a wide gap flanked on either side by towers built into the rock face. Both are mirror images of the other, sleek and ominous with only a few windows positioned at their tops.

“Sorry about that,” he says, without so much as glancing at me. “I should have warned you.” He pauses. “Now pick yourself up because they’ll be watching us soon.” I slowly stand.

He removes a red candle from his pack. It’s small enough to fit in his hand and when he lights it a magnificent plume of red smoke erupts from the wick and jettisons toward the towers. The smoke quickly rises and winds its way toward the towers. Just before it reaches the stone columns, it splits into two, disappearing through the narrow slits. Darius yanks me forward and pulls me to his side.

“The smoke was my signal for entry. Each Herring has his candle which bears his signature.” He brings his face inches from mine and I have to remind myself that it’s all an illusion as his fangs come dangerously close. “Remember to keep your eyes to the ground once we’re in there. No matter what you hear, keep your gaze down.”

“Why?” I ask pulling back against his grip.

“Because it shows that I broke you and that you’re mine.” Disgust coats his words, and I can’t help but feel guilty for putting him in this situation.

“Like this?” I bow my head and sink my neck into my shoulders.

“Exactly.” He yanks me forward, and we begin our march to the post.

As we approach, the sky darkens as if the sun itself is afraid to shine here.

“Remember what I said.” He pulls me closer to him, and I get the feeling it’s not for show this time. The ground shakes violently as the grinding of stone slices through the silence.

“Commander.” A gruff voice barks from overhead.

Darius doesn’t respond as he shoves me inside and follows closely behind. We immediately face two staircases, one ascending and one descending. Unfortunately, we choose the one that leads underground. We reach the one-hundredth step just as a darkened chamber comes into view. I bite my tongue to keep from retching. The air down here is stale with the stench of body odor and ale.

I know it’s him before he speaks because my bracelet burns my skin. “Commander! We thought she’d delayed you.”

“Ay.” He squeezes my arm. “She was a feisty one, but I broke her just like any other wild thing.”

When he grabs my backside, it takes everything in me not to react. The others howl and cheer.

Camus’s blood-spattered boots come into my field of vision. “Let us know if she needs further taming.” He licks his lips hungrily. “The boys and I would be happy to help.”

A low, guttural growl comes from Darius. “She’s mine.” He whispers ferociously, tightening his grip around my waist.

Camus’s boots disappear as he backs away. The scraping of dishes assures me that he’s taken his place with the others once again.

“Funny,” Camus says between bites, “all these years without a woman, and you take the wildest.” I hold my breath frightened that he’s seen right through our mirage. Instead, Camus slaps the table and shouts, “A wild woman for our wild commander!”

The clinking of glasses follows. They’re celebrating what they think is my submission to their great leader—they couldn’t be more wrong. One of them rises and hands Darius a mug full of ale. He plays along and empties it in one gulp. Another Herring rises and refills it.

“Plenty to go around though, right boys?” Camus’s question is met with an excited murmuring.

Darius sits down and hoists me onto his knee. I sink into him; the closeness of the Herrings has set me on edge.

“Got ourselves a new catch.” Another Herring grunts. “Came upon a lot of them near Fewth Road.”

My heart stops. Darius must sense my reaction because he sets his hand on my knee.

“Put up a fight they did.” Camus continues. “Pathetic.” He spits.

Darius asks the question that I cannot. “Any dead?” He takes a drink, pretending not to care, but his grip tells me otherwise.

“A few,” Camus scoffs, “able to capture two mages and a few skilled soldiers. Betcha they’ll fetch a high price at auction. Those Fairvale richies are tired of the old crows and baby birds we sendin’ em.” He laughs.

Their lives mean nothing to him. My fingernails dig small trenches into my palms.

Camus takes another long drink, belches, and continues. “One ’em mages tried using his magic on me. Funny kind. Made me feel all sad and sorry for him. Sliced ’em right open. Didn’t feel so sorry then.”

Rhian. I lean into Darius, bearing my full weight onto him. We need a reason to leave and get back to our plan. He understands my cue and finishes his drink.

“Best get her to my chambers if I still want some use out of her.” He smacks Camus on the back. “Least another day before I throw ’er in with the rest. Richies will pay a fine price for ’er if she lasts.”

“We’ll bet on it commander, what’s your wager?” Camus chuckles.

A few coins drop onto the table including one Darius removes from his satchel, and I remind myself that it’s all a ruse.

“Give ’er till morning,” he says as he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder like a piece of meat. “I’ll sort the lot tonight,” he calls to them.

I hang limply over his back, feeling as close to the Fade as I look.

When we’re out of sight from the others, Darius puts me down. I’m about to talk, but he covers my mouth with his hand.

“Keep your voice low; these walls have been known to listen.” His breath is hot against my ear.

I keep staring at the floor while he leads me down a dark corridor and through a large doorway at its end. Inside is a bed and a chair, nothing more. When he latches the door he immediately drops the veil, not bearing to be a Herring for another moment. His arms are around me in a minute.

My knees buckle. “They found my village. They have my kin.” I whisper to him. I think about the last time I saw Rhian. How could I have left things like that? “Darius, what if…what if they killed,” I can’t bear to finish. The veil had never failed us. I was so sure they’d be safe.

He pulls away from me and paces. “There are two guards stationed at each cell,” he begins, “and there are two different tunnels for the mages and the inerts. Beyond that, there are guards at each entry point, not to mention the archers positioned at the top of each tower.”

“Then we split up,” I say. “I can use Miriam’s transference stone and take my kin to Northpoint. Once you’ve found the mages, you can meet us there.”

His response is immediate. “No,” he says firmly. “If they catch you, Camus’ orders are to remind the prisoners about the punishment for escape.” I imagine the punishments I’m picturing are just about in line with the reality.

The answer becomes clear. “Can’t you slip the guard something? Buy us time?” I see the struggle in his eyes.

He’s spent his entire life infiltrating the Herrings. If he took this risk and something went wrong, everything he had worked for would be destroyed. But if I stood by and did nothing, then everyone I’d loved would be killed, including myself. Even if it means failing, I must at least try.

“Darius please!” I plea. “I can’t leave them here. I can’t leave here knowing that I could have helped.” I don’t bother wiping the tears that pool on my lashes.

“Stay here,” he mutters and leaves the room.

The click of the lock and the sound of his retreating steps are all that break the stifling silence of this underground prison.

“Jules.” Darius stands in the doorway what seems like hours later.

“Where were you?” My voice is raw. I’d exhausted myself by pacing and finally collapsed into the chair.

He gently closes the door and walks to me. “I was making sure the two guards protecting your kin drank the last of the sleep tonic I slipped in their ale. We should easily be able to get past their unconscious bodies when it’s time.” He crosses to the bed and reveals two hidden daggers tucked underneath. “All of the mages are in the same cell, thank the Mire.”

He hands me a small dagger, but I flash him my bracelet, and he tucks the blade into his wrist cuff instead.

“Won’t they know you poisoned them?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I veiled myself to look like another Herring who was seeking a night’s rest before continuing onto Fairvale. As far as they know, some Herring they’ve never met was the culprit. Each pack wants to be the one who brings the most mages to Blackthorne,” he explains.

“This won’t be the first time a Herring has tried to free the prisoners and claim them as their own.”

Once he’s finished securing his weapons, he removes the transference stone from his pocket and holds it tightly in his hand.

I place my hand atop his closed fist; it looks like a child’s compared to his own. “Thank you,” I say staring past the veil and into the eyes of the real Darius. He hesitates for just a second before placing his free hand over my own. We’d both need the Mire’s good graces if we were going to succeed and we know it. I close my eyes. “Mire shed light on us through the next few hours,” I whisper. When I open my eyes again, Darius is smiling. “What’s the plan?” I ask soundly.

“I can veil us up until we reach the holding area where they’re keeping the mages.” He holds up the transference stone.

“Why only until the holding area?” I ask.

“Because a purification ward protects their cell.” I raise my eyebrows. “It’s the way they keep the mages from using their magic and breaking free.”

“The ward strips away magic just like the ropes the Herrings use. I can’t go through the purification ward. It will drain my magic, and then I won’t be able to get us out of here. If this is going to work, then I must remain veiled. I’ll be right on the other side of the gate.”

“And what about my people?”

“The auction won’t be for another few days. That’s plenty of time for another escape.” His features soften. “I’ll make sure they’re safe.” He passes to the bed and secures his bag across his chest.

“Wait,” the realization of what he’s saying settles in, “you’re not coming to Northpoint with us?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll need to return here. Once they’ve noticed the mages have escaped it will be my job to punish the guards and order a search.”

Of course. He wouldn’t give up his position, not while there were still countless others he could save.

“But what if you’re caught?”

“They won’t suspect me, especially not after I finish with mage’s guards.” The sinister way he says it makes me certain that no one here doubts his authority.

I dip my head low, getting into character once again. “Let’s go,” I say.

It feels like hours have passed since our arrival, but there’s no way of knowing what time it is this far below ground. Darius slings me over his shoulder once again and we shuffle through the main chamber where a few sounds echo off the walls though the chamber is empty. I can barely see the floor, but Darius’s steps are sure-footed, reminding me that he’s likely walked this passageway a thousand times. Finally, we reach the end of the tunnel where two guards lay unconscious.

“May have slipped them a little more than necessary.” He steps over them to a large metal gate. “This is where I leave you.” He hands me a set of heavy keys. “I will be waiting for you right here.”

“How far until I reach the mages?” I peer past the gate and down into a dimly lit hallway.

“No more than one hundred paces.” He pulls out his dagger and hands it to me, knowing that my cassiterite blade will be useless inside. “Just in case.”

He feigns a smile, but I can tell he’s nervous. “Once you reach a silver door use this key,” he holds up a polished key. “They’re being held in the room on the other side. Be quick, be silent.” He looks down at me. “I’ll veil you until you’ve opened the gate.”

“Darius?” I stare at the key in my hand. “What happens if I fail? To them I mean?” I look down the dark hallway again.

“Mage blood is too valuable to Blackthorne. Camus won’t risk harming them.” I hold my breath as I feel his hand slide over mine.

He continues. “But he’ll be sure to make them watch as he drains every drop from you.”

I breathe in deeply. “Thank you, for everything, for protecting my kin,” I pause, “and Lanel.”

I look at him one last time before turning the key. I tap the side of my belt where the Everberry rests. Silas’s words echo in my head - don’t let them take you alive. Indeed, I won’t.