SPIDERS
A scream shattered Karigan’s sleep. To her surprise, it was not her own.
“Bloody hells!” cried Mel, who sat up beside her.
“What’s going on?” Fergal asked, his voice thick with sleep.
It was too dark to see anything.
“Megan?” Karigan asked. “You all right?”
“Sp-sp-spiders. All over me! I swear!” Sounds of rustling and swatting came from her direction.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if there were mice in this place, too,” Mel said.
“Mice?” Megan squawked.
“Not helping,” Karigan informed Mel.
Mel yawned and slumped back into her straw, taking most of their shared blanket with her.
When Megan continued to fuss and sounded like she was weeping again, Karigan said, “Megan, what makes you think you are covered in spiders?”
“I was up there in the rafters, in their webs.”
“I know. Do you feel like you are being bitten?”
“Bitten?”
Karigan could well picture the horror on her face. “Are you?”
“I—I don’t know. Now I feel itchy all over, and ticklish like they’re crawling all over me with their legs.” The last came out with immense loathing.
Karigan took a moment to consider how spiders would be crawling on Megan if not with their legs. “Tell me, before you started feeling . . . tickled, were you dreaming or thinking about spiders?”
“Of course I was. I was up in the rafters with them. I was covered in their webs.”
“Could you have been having a vivid dream?” Megan might well be covered in spiders, but Karigan doubted it, and there wasn’t much they could do about it even if she were, except to blindly swat at her in the dark. The thought did hold some appeal.
“I—” Megan said. “Maybe.”
“Dreams can do that to you.” Karigan knew it to be true. “Are the spiders tickling you now?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so.”
“Then try to relax and think of something pleasant.”
“Mmm,” Megan said. “Yards and yards of ribbon in every color . . .”
Karigan sank into her straw once more, tried to tug some blanket from Mel’s iron grip, and had a feeling she was about to dream about spiders. Dreams of spiders, however, were overshadowed by the familiar fear and darkness of torture and helplessness repeatedly playing through her mind. Nyssa was a huge shadow that loomed over her, her whip hissing through the air. The flaying of flesh, the splatter of blood. Karigan was locked in place, unable to move, unable to cry out.
She woke panting with sweat streaming down her face, and found the world still enclosed in night. Her fellow captives remained asleep, their breaths peaceful. She must not have screamed and was thankful for it. Then she started shivering, not sure if it was the sweat cooling on her skin or the fear evoked by the dream. She tried to clamp her mouth shut to quiet the chattering of her teeth, and reclaimed some of the blanket from Mel.
Then she worked on slowing her breathing, and though she was loathe to close her eyes, she did so. She called on the visualization she’d used to reach the starry meadow. Enver’s voice seemed to whisper to her and guide her along the tranquil path, but she hadn’t gotten far when a wall slammed down blocking the way.
“What?” she murmured. It had happened before, but never so soon, never so forcefully.
Your Greenies blocked me out before, Nyssa said, but you didn’t think I could do the same to you?
“You are dead,” Karigan whispered.
And you speak with ghosts.
There had been a time when she could command ghosts, but it had never worked with Nyssa. She was not even sure if Nyssa was, in fact, a ghost or her own mind punishing her.
Either way, I am here.
“Go to the hells,” Karigan said.
Nyssa laughed as she faded away. Karigan sat in the dark shivering.
“You look terrible,” Fergal told Karigan in the morning.
Megan’s expression indicated she didn’t think this was anything new.
Everything hurt. She’d dozed on and off, sitting against the stone wall. The cold had seeped into her back.
“Are you sick?” Mel asked, raising herself onto her elbow.
“No. Didn’t sleep well.” She had been waiting all night for Nyssa to return and taunt her. She almost dreaded the wait more than the actual experience.
The usual morning guard came in and pointed at Karigan. “You. Get the slops.”
With some difficulty, Karigan wearily climbed to her feet and tried to hide the pain as she straightened up. The others watched as she fetched the slops bucket. When she stepped outside, the fresh air did little to revive her. After she dumped the slops, she was sent back for the water buckets.
“One of us can do that today,” Fergal told the guard.
“No. She will do it,” the guard replied.
Karigan gathered the water buckets. It had been good of Fergal to speak up, but he would not have been able to carry both with his wounded shoulder, and she didn’t want to expose the others to the additional danger outside the hut, especially the young women with all the “rough men” around, as Megan had called them.
When she reached the spring, she didn’t splash her face this time, but dunked her whole head in, and it helped wake her some. Carrying the buckets back was even harder this time, however, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming. As it was, she had to set them down and rest for a moment. The guard smirked the whole time.
When she stepped back into the hut, she set the buckets down immediately and stretched her back. She restrained the tears this time, not wanting the others to see. She did try to walk the pain out, using some of the stretches Renn had shown her.
“I don’t get it,” Fergal said, “why do they choose only you to go for the water?”
“They know,” Karigan said, “that it is difficult for me and it amuses them.”
“Difficult?” Mel asked. “How?”
“She—” Fergal began, but Karigan’s glare stopped him.
“Bad back,” Karigan said. Fergal might know the truth, but she felt she had to show some strength for Mel and Megan.
After their morning meal, Renn arrived leaning on a stick and walking with a pronounced limp. A bandage was tied around his thigh.
“What happened?” Fergal asked.
“Torq’s lieutenant didn’t like the taste of the medicine I gave him for his indigestion, so he stabbed me in the leg.”
Megan’s hand went to her mouth.
“Fortunately I am a mender,” Renn said, “and could treat the wound. I see we have another person here . . .” When Mel was introduced, he said, “I thought they were only collecting Green Riders. Where are you from, young lady?”
“Selium,” Mel replied. “Well, Sacor City, actually. I go to school in Selium.”
“She’s not a Green Rider,” Karigan said quietly, “but our colonel’s daughter.”
Renn gave Mel another look. “So you are guilty by association.”
That made Mel smile. “Very.”
He then turned to Fergal. “Let’s take a look at that shoulder.” As he passed through a beam of light, it revealed a welt and bruise beneath his eye.
When he finished with Fergal, he asked Karigan, “Have you been doing your stretches?”
“Yes, but carrying water buckets is still hard.”
“I brought more liniment. I can apply some now, and later one of your friends here can put some on for you.”
“No,” Karigan replied. “What you put on will be fine.”
He looked at her for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.” He removed a jar from his basket. Mel and Megan watched expectantly.
“Would you two mind giving us some space?” she asked.
They exchanged glances, shrugged, and moved to sit beside Fergal.
Karigan made sure her back was away from them before removing her greatcoat so Renn could get to work. He lifted the back of her shirt and began to apply the liniment. It was aromatic and he worked it in with gentle expertise. She sighed as he loosened stiff and sore muscles and the liniment soothed the pain. It was not as efficacious as the evaleoren of the Eletians, but it was very good.
“How is Fergal’s wound?” she asked in a quiet voice.
“He is mending well despite the circumstances.”
“Thank goodness.” She winced when he placed pressure on a tender spot. “We need to get out of here—you, too.”
“I would like nothing better, Rider, but I am not leaving without my family.”
“They have your family here, too?”
“Yes. To ensure my cooperation.”
“I’m sorry.” That complicated an already complicated situation. “How many in your family?”
“My wife, Cora, and two children, a girl and boy, nine and twelve, respectively.”
How would she get all those people out? A wrong move and the Raiders would not hesitate to kill Renn’s family. Not only would that be a tragedy for all concerned, but she believed it might very well prevent the existence of Cade in the future.