“This isn’t a great look for you, gobbo. Aren’t you freezing?”

Ditan could hear the sneer in Eilic’s voice. He didn’t dare turn around to see it because the Sentinel favored slashing him with his knife whenever he slowed. No, I hate wearing clothes, he thought. Stupid long legs.

“It’s not that cold out,” he said instead. Each barb in his flesh stung, each movement drawing a wince as he kept the same brutal pace Eilic insisted on maintaining. He could only imagine how those would snag if his clothing hadn’t been removed earlier during the trial. “I find it quite freeing.”

Eilic jerked him to a halt by tugging his hair. “You are slated to die, gob. Make peace with that.” Glinting metal passed briefly through his peripheral vision as the Sentinel dragged it across Ditan’s cheek. He’s a cutter. That’s cute.

“We all do, Eilic. What’s the point of worrying about it?” Ditan could hear the bustle of people up ahead through the trees. He knew they were getting close to others. The rest of the Vigil from town, I imagine. I hope they’re not all like him. “Yer right though, I’m a bit cold personally.”

“Good,” Eilic said before prodding him. “If you’re lucky, someone will spare you their castoffs. If you’re lucky.”

“Won’t matter if ya just kill me here instead.” There I go, tempting him again, he thought. Do I really have a death wish? Eilic just chuckled instead. That’s not ominous.

Trees parted into a clearing adjacent to the road. Several large wagons were arranged in a circle, while Sentinels loaded supplies into others that seemed to have newly arrived. Ditan couldn’t see Trynneia anywhere.

“This one’s for you,” Eilic said, leading him to a wagon that differed in many ways. Where canvas and wood made up the others, this one bound sturdy oak with thick ribbons of metal. Iron bars graced a door on the rear. Painted symbols ran round the base of the box and the door. It reminded him of his jail cell.

That’s exactly what it is, he realized. Why would they have something like this?

“How thoughtful,” he said. “Is it heated?”

“It can be. You will regret asking about it later.” Eilic drew out a key and unlocked what looked like a warded keyhole. He whispered some words into it and the symbols flared red before darkening. The door gave off a hiss when he opened it. “Get in.”

“Where’s Trynneia?” Ditan looked around desperately for his friend, but Eilic’s violent push thrust him forward, irritating the many wounds on his back.

“I don’t care and neither should you.” Ditan felt another slice clipping through his flesh. “You are bleeding quite a lot. It would be such a pity if you died before my mother arrived.”

Keep that crazy witch away from me. Is that too much to ask?

-It is.- The voices remained faint and ghostly. He could barely hear them.

Well, I don’t want her near me anyway. He struggled to climb in with his legs still loosely bound at the ankles. Two rusting metal steps hung below the door but he couldn’t raise his feet far enough to get purchase. Instead he opted to pull himself up, scraping his bare torso across the rough wood.

Ditan finished hauling himself up and sat on the floor. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness inside. Other than the bars on the door, there were no windows for this wagon. Wooden crates built into the walls and floor provided ample storage and took up much of the room within.

Hooks dangled in a line from the ceiling, barbarous and sharp. Serrated knives, whips, metal cuffs, and various other implements hung from the walls. Blood stained the floor, and the same symbols from the outside repeated themselves and completely covered every surface.

“This looks cozy,” he said, unable to hide the trembling in his voice. “All for me?”

“Yes,” Eilic said, looking pleased with himself. “And me, of course. We’re going to be such good friends.”

“Friends don’t want to kill each other.” This looks like an extended torture vacation box, Ditan thought.

“I know. It’s such a pity. Perhaps I will try to cure you instead. For you it may be one and the same.”

“Well, maybe I’ll learn to love it.” Ditan swallowed. Eilic swung up on a step and kicked him the rest of the way inside.

“Your outlook will only get you so far. I know what you truly are, gob. I will take from you what is needed.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Well, ye’ve certainly given me too much already, between the lovely drink and the bleeding wounds and the inviting accommodations. I’d rather pay ya on my terms.”

Eilic knelt on his chest. “I don’t think so.” He showed Ditan no kindness, gripping his hair and pulling him within. “Like or not, you’re my guest.” The Sentinel tugged the door shut and symbols flared around it. A soft glow suffused the air within, bereft of a source other than the thin stream of sunlight glinting through the bars of the door.

A little help here, guys? Ditan sensed the finality of his imprisonment as the world outside sealed itself away from him. Desperation took root. “My parents have money.” They run a bank, at least. “They’ll pay you for my freedom.” The elements did not respond.

A booming guffaw was Eilic’s immediate response. “A little late for that, gobbo.” The Sentinel ran a length of rope up around one of the hooks and tied it off to the floor. “I’ll figure out how to make this work with your…unfortunate handicap,” Eilic said, fettering Ditan with an iron shackle. He affixed the rope to it and hoisted Ditan up to dangle from the ceiling by his wrist.

Ditan watched the Sentinel work, horrified by how at home the man seemed as he searched through boxes. Eilic cinched his feet together tightly, then bound his left arm behind his back. Each action the Sentinel took caused more pain than the one before. Already, Ditan’s wrist and hand grew numb.

Eilic jerked on the rope and Ditan realized his peril. Several pulleys had escaped his notice, and they worked now to pull him taut. With the free end wound about a winch, the Sentinel cranked until Ditan screamed.

“I’ll let you have that. It’s good sometimes to let your pain out. You see, no one can hear you scream. That’s the pleasure of a Grimcell. You can’t use your powers, and I can use all mine.”

Each symbol gave off a gleaming light as he screamed proportional to his volume. This is absolutely not good. Tryn can’t rescue me if she can’t hear me. No one else will either. I’ll need to get free on my own.

“I see what ya mean about becoming friends, Eilic. We’ll be the very best,” he grunted through clenched teeth. The trickle of his tears itched as they crept down his cheeks, an irritation or annoyance that added to his misery, as ridiculous as that seemed.

“We’ll be very close.” Eilic stood admiring his handiwork. “I’m told I can be excessive in my attentions. I am paid very well to eliminate your kind, but I enjoy certain pleasures that come with it.”

“By ‘pleasure’ ya mean ‘torture’.” Ditan just wanted to get it out there. The way Eilic had affixed the ropes to spinning clasps allowed his struggling to rotate him around ever so slightly. Eilic rotated out of view.

“That is one way of looking at it. I suppose from your point of view it is. When you are so distracted by pain you can’t think, then I know you cannot talk to your elemental friends. The Grimcell does the rest.”

“You lack finesse,” Ditan said. Eilic rotated into view, his arms clasped across his chest, one hand holding a dagger.

“You talk too much.” Eilic cranked the wheel and Ditan screamed again. He could feel the discomfort in his shoulder as his joint began to give. Symbols flared all around him.

“It’s probably a blessing. If I drown you out with my own babbling, I don’t need to listen to you preen about yourself and how much you hate me.”

“So brave.” Eilic smiled, then tugged with full force on the crank. The shock dislocated Ditan’s shoulder. “I see how you enjoy suffering. We shall be grand friends indeed.”

Ditan screamed until his voice grew hoarse. That seems to be a common theme these last few days. I won’t be taking up singing any time soon. The weight of his body dangled from the damaged connections in his shoulder. It was excruciating. “That’s all you’ve got?” Great idea, Ditan, taunt him again.

Delirium tugged at his senses, the shock of his ongoing trauma forcing his mind to cope in whatever manner suited him. No one is coming. No one is listening. Only Eilic stood between him and escape. The Sentinel gripped Ditan’s exposed manhood and turned him around. He gasped.

“I have your vulnerability, and I don’t mean that as a euphemism. This is not an inn or your parent’s house.”

“As I’ve guessed.”

“I have no bed for you. No fresh water. No food. Just pain. Just suffering. I’ll keep you alive only so you can suffer more. Modius has plans for you.” Eilic squeezed. Ditan whimpered. “I do not,” the Sentinel whispered in his ear.

The symbols around the door flared, then it opened. Sariam climbed in, her hair dangling in limp wet curls from her hunched, stooped head. It glistened darkly, her clothing clinging to her with a film of murky red that added to her creepy demeanor. She let loose a soft cackle.

“Hello Mother. How is the girl?”

“She sssleepsss,” Sariam hissed. “Isss he ready?”

Am I ready for what? Sariam ran a hand across his naked backside where blood had crusted above his buttocks. She gave him a suggestive look as she did so, her depraved attempt at eroticism lost on him in his anguish. He wanted to be sick.

Her hands wandered all over his body. He winced every time they crossed the embedded thorns and brambles stuck in his flesh. Sariam pulled them out one by one, the wounds oozing anew. More than once, she licked them. These people are freakishly abnormal. He could only tolerate her. They had removed resistance as an option.

“He has lost a lot of blood and his shoulder is dislocated,” Eilic said.

“Modius will be displeased with you,” Sariam said. “The boy was to be kept whole.”

Ditan saw Eilic’s mouth twitch. “He is. Besides, the gob is a freak. I don’t care what Modius says. Fuck him.”

Sariam rounded on her son and stood to her full height. It surprised Ditan to see her tower over the man by a hand or more. The hunching had hidden the difference well. “I do.” She looked at Ditan. The stunned look on Eilic’s face told him all he needed to know. “Care what he says, that isss,” she said after a pregnant pause. “Leave usss. I will heal him.”

“I will watch,” Eilic said, almost petulant.

“I sssaid leave usss!” Sariam hissed. “The Light illuminatesss your path, my ssson.”

Ditan watched the Red’s growing agitation with her son. So there’s a good deal of tension there. She doesn’t like him either, odd as she is. The thought brought him a dim hope. Eilic spat and threw up his hands.

“Fix him then. Modius will hear about this.”

Sariam cackled. “Yesss he will. Quit being petulant. Let the Light work through me. Ssseal the wardsss behind you.”