CHAPTER 42

The prison beneath the palace was made up of one long, dark corridor. Cells lining each side were separated by rusted metal bars. Water dripped down the stone perimeter, leaving furry green paths of mold and decay. There were no windows, leaving the space dank and dark, save for the dim light from a few mounted torches.

Guards led Tovi past cells inhabited by prisoners who looked less than half alive. Each of them stared through blank eyes as they sat on the cold stone floor. Coming to a halt near an empty stall, one of the guards twisted an ancient key, which screeched and scraped before the lock popped.

“In you go,” he said gruffly.

As the door swung shut behind her, the voice began. At first, she thought someone was speaking to her, and she looked around for the source. It didn’t take long to realize that the torturous words were in her own mind.

You are worthless Tovi Tivka . . . Completely worthless . . . You abandoned all the people who loved you in Adia, and now you have failed the few friends you had on this mountain . . . You are despicable . . . The pain you put Ganya through has nearly killed her . . . Xanthe will surely die in this place . . . And all of this you have done for yourself . . . You are selfish, Tovi . . . You are worthless . . .

The words and guilt brought her to her knees, and she knelt near the door of her cell, clutching the bars with cold, white hands.

Her mind travelled back to just a few moments before, as she stood in the throne room looking at the mural. Everything had suddenly made so much sense. All the stories she had learned as a child and since coming to the mountain dropped into place in their correct order. She was the child of Prince Ajax, and King Damien feared she and her siblings would one day rebel. He had sent them to die. Silas hadn’t stolen her from her family. He had saved her life, and Tali’s.

She had too many questions to count, but in that instant, while King Damien spewed his hate and lies, she had known without a doubt that Silas—Adwin—was good. He was good, and he loved her. Questions still spun around and around in her mind, but somehow clinging to that truth made everything else a little more bearable.

In the far corner of the cell to her right, a man lay curled on his side. His back was completely blank, void of any marks. Every few minutes he let out a moan of pain and shivered.

To Tovi’s left was an old woman sitting against the back wall picking black crust from under her fingernails. Her pale lavender hair was stringy and dirty, and she had to frequently brush it out of her face. She wore frayed and patched clothing, and she seemed to be talking to herself in a low whisper.

Looking across the narrow corridor to the cells on the other side, Tovi saw a gleam of silver.

“Xanthe . . . ” Tovi whispered.

Xanthe, who had been sitting against the side of her enclosure, looked at Tovi with unspoken disgust. Tovi began to drown in the voice again.

Look what you’ve done to Xanthe . . . She will never forgive you . . . She will die here, and it’s all because of you . . . And your marks? Those marks will never come off . . . You are ruined . . . No one can fix this . . . If Silas sees them, he will hate you for what you have done . . . For what you have become . . . There is no turning back . . . You are worthless . . .

“She won’t talk to you, you know,” came a raspy voice. Turning, Tovi saw the old lady had moved closer, gripping the bars that separated them with gnarled, wrinkled fingers. Large, dull eyes looked through the metal rods, darting between Xanthe and Tovi. “I’ve tried and tried, but she don’t respond to nobody. ‘Cept the visitor man.”

“Who is the visitor man?” Tovi asked, the question echoing through the chamber.

Hesper’s story of his mother’s time in prison flowed back through her memory. Was this the same visitor that had taken his mother away? Tovi‘s heart beat fast as she thought of Silas’ face, hoping with every last bit of strength that the visitor was him.

“Shhhh, the guards sit up top of the stairs, but you still don’t wanna be too loud about these things. The visitor man isn’t allowed, you see,” she whispered. “Come, sit down.” She gestured as if she was in her own living room. They took seats in the corner, each resting their backs against the stone wall. Even with the metal bars between them, they were only inches apart.

Tovi whispered this time. “I’m Tovi.”

“My name’s Ismene.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Longer than I care to guess. If it weren’t for the visitor man, I wouldn’t even know how long a day lasts. As it just so happens, he visits every day, near enough the same time, so we are kinda aware of the passing time. But if it helps you to understand, I was just a mite older than you when I came down those stairs.”

“That’s awful!” Tovi cried, trying her best to hold down her volume.

“Oh, you get used to it, lovey. It’s not so bad. You’ll get used to the voice . . . and sleeping on the rocks. You’ll forget what food tastes like out there, too.”

“You hear the voice?”

“Indeed, I do. That is part of the prison, you see. While you are here, in this here dark and terrible pit, you will hear all the things that old Damien has tried to teach you. The problem is, you are here because of that heart in your hand. The two don’t go together too good, if you know what I mean, and that’s why you hear the voice and feel the pain.

“For the first few years of my time down here, I tried to get rid of it. Damien promised me that if the heart was gone from my hand, I could go back to my family, that life would be perfect again. It’s hazy to me now, but I don’t really think it was ever that perfect to begin with. It’s just another one of his tricks. Anyhow, I tried every which way to get rid of the blasted thing,” she said, holding up her hand for Tovi to see. It was crisscrossed with jagged white scars. “Several times I tried to scratch it away, sometimes with my own nails, sometimes with my teeth, even once by rubbing it over the rusted part of these bars. It never worked.”

Tovi was reminded of her own irrational attempts at scraping the marks off her back.

“Tell me about the visitor. Who is he?”

The ragged lady brought her face close to the bars, and Tovi could feel her warm breath on her skin. “I don’t know his name, but he comes and sits with me every day. Comes and visits with each one of us, without fail. Comes in a secret door so he doesn’t have to pass them guards. He’s as old as me, I reckon, with wrinkles as droopy as mine. And each and every time he comes, he offers to take us away, take us to a better place out yonder. A place more beautiful than we can imagine.”

Tovi’s heart sank. Wrinkles? It couldn’t be Silas. “Why don’t you go with him?” she asked, trying to hide her deep disappointment.

Ismene’s eyes grew sad and she started picking at her fingers again. “I don’t s’pose I know why. He says it’ll be hard, and I just don’t know if I’ve got it in me. I wanna go, just don’t know if I can. Strange things happen in this place. Strange things indeed. See that young feller over on the other side of them bars? One day, he took the visitor man up on his offer. Told him he was ready to leave and get out of here. I heard him with mine own ears. Then, the visitor man says to him, ‘It’s gonna be hard. And it’s gonna be worse before it gets better. But it’ll be worth it.’

“They left, and I thought he was gone for good. He wasn’t the first one to leave with him. But a few minutes later, he was back. Two guards had hold of him, lookin’ confused, tryin’ to figure out how he got out from behind them bars. They was still locked, you see.

“Next day, the visitor man took a ‘specially long time with him, telling him it was okay, and they’d try again. But that boy won’t even look at him no more. Won’t talk to nobody. Guess he’s shamed it didn’t work out the first time.

“So then, when he offers that same freedom to me, I just think about how hard it’s gonna be. I think about how I just don’t think I can make it, and how I’ll feel if I get throwed back in here. And I decide that it’s probably best for me to just stay put.”

After a short silence, Ismene’s head dropped to her chest and she began to snore. Without the distraction of chatter, the voice came back to Tovi.

You are stuck here forever, Tovi . . . There is no chance of escaping from what you have done, all the people you have hurt . . . And even if you could escape, where would you go? . . . Everyone hates you . . . You are alone in this world, and it’s all your fault . . . You failed everyone . . . You failed Ganya . . . You failed Avi . . . You failed Tali . . . You failed Silas . . . And he thinks you are worthless . . .

All Tovi had to keep track of the time were the rhythmic drops of water punctuated by Ismene’s snores and the young man’s painful moans. After what seemed like eternity, she heard footsteps coming down the corridor. Was this the visitor? Was it King Damien? A guard? Who was coming in the middle of the night?

She peered through the darkness and saw a man drawing closer. It was too dark to make out his face, but she recognized his voice immediately.

“Xanthe, are you awake?” came his hushed whispers.

Xanthe’s dress rustled as she moved closer to the bars. “Jairus,” she cried, letting out a sob that echoed against the walls.

“Please don’t cry, sweetheart. I’m going to get you out of here.” They grasped hands through the bars.

“I don’t want you to end up here, too,” Xanthe despaired, releasing one hand to cup the side of his face.

He placed his hand over hers. “I don’t want this life without you, Xanthe. I will find a way. I promise you. We’ll go live somewhere out in the forest. We’ll start over away from this horrible place, away from Grandfather and all that has happened. Don’t give up, Xanthe. Please don’t give up,” he begged.

They kissed softly, allowing their pain and tears to mingle. “I’ll come back when I can. Stay strong, my love.” He turned toward his newfound sister for one agonized second before walking briskly up the aisle, not looking back at the now-sobbing Xanthe.

Tovi’s guilt engulfed her again.

If you had held your temper with Megara, Xanthe wouldn’t be in prison . . . She wouldn’t be in terrible danger . . . She and Jairus wouldn’t be separated . . . They wouldn’t be experiencing this misery . . . How could you do this to your friend? Your brother . . . You are a failure, Tovi Tivka . . . You have ruined their lives . . . Nobody wants you . . . Nobody loves you . . . You are worthless . . .

Tovi didn’t sleep. She lay awake, listening to the voice and Xanthe’s weeping. The longer she lay there, the weaker she felt, as if the voice was draining every last bit of strength and resilience she had left.

Just when she thought she could bear it no more, there was a strange trembling, like the rocks below her were crumbling. She stared into the far corner of her cell where ruffled green leaves and an indigo flower flecked with orange pollen poked up through the floor and bloomed like an umbrella. She crawled over and lay her head beside it, running her fingers over the petals. Warm tears trickled down her cheeks, and she whispered, “Silas . . . ”