Simon roughly grabbed my shoulder, his thin fingers biting through the ragged cloth of my shirt to pinch muscles and nerves. “Get in there,” the warlock said. He gave me a hard shove and I fell into the shallow circular pit in the center of the room. My knees hit the hard compact dirt, sending a sharp pain down to the bone.
Placing my hands against the dirt floor, I pushed back to my feet and my eyes fell on Bryce. Oh God. Now I remembered why this place seemed so familiar. The young boy lay on his side, his breathing ragged as the air slipped between split lips in short, quick gasps. Dirt and blood crusted his face. His clothes had been taken away, revealing an all-too-thin frame covered in ugly bruises and long, festering cuts. Pain glazed his eyes, making me wonder if he was aware of where he was and that I was near him.
I backpedaled until my back slammed into the wall of the dueling pit. Turning, I looked up at Simon. My hands were on the chest-high rim, ready to climb out of the arena. I couldn’t do it. I knew why I was here and I couldn’t do it.
Simon stepped directly in front of me, blocking my escape. “This is your third and final chance to finish this. You kill him and we will move on with your training, or we will keep him alive indefinitely, locked in constant pain. Kill him or I kill you.” Placing his foot on my shoulder, the warlock shoved me backward, away from the wall and into the center of the pit.
I stumbled, but managed to stay on my feet. Swallowing back the bile in my throat, I looked down at the wounded apprentice again. Three days ago, Bryce and I had been placed in the dueling pit. We had both been learning curses used in fighting, and our mentors had decided that the best way to prove we were proficient was a duel to the death. I won the duel, but refused to kill Bryce. I had been locked in a cell, while Bryce had been beaten and tortured as they waited for me to submit to their wishes.
Shaking my head, I tried to backpedal again when I heard Bryce give a little whimper. His head moved so that he was now looking up at me. Pain cut heavy lines through his young face, sweat glistened on his brow. His lips moved, forming the words Help me but he lacked the strength to put sound to it. There was only one way to help him, to remove the pain and the fear.
My hands were trembling when I raised them, gathering together the energy I needed. I kept repeating in my head that if I did it quickly, Bryce wouldn’t feel more pain, he wouldn’t have a chance to be afraid.
“No!” Simon’s harsh voice sliced through the silence. A wave of energy swept through the room, pushing the magic I had pulled from my fingertips. I twisted around to look at my mentor in confusion. “You had your chance to kill him with magic and you threw it away. You’ll kill him with this.”
Simon reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out something that he tossed into the pit. I looked down and my stomach lurched. At my feet was a small wooden dagger. The tip was sharp, but the blade was dull. There would be no saving Bryce from pain.
Slowly, I bent down and picked it up. It was incredibly light and smooth. It didn’t feel like a weapon, but a toy I might have used when I played pirates with my brother in the backyard so many years ago. You couldn’t kill someone with a toy. It wasn’t right.
“Do it! You have until the count of three or I will kill you!” Simon shrieked, his voice cracking in his growing rage. “One!”
“Gage.” A woman’s voice gently drew my attention back to Bryce.
My head jerked up and I saw Lilith lying on the ground next to the pain-filled apprentice. She was on her side in a languorous pose with one arm curled around his head. “Send him to me, Gage. He’s in such pain. Set him free.”
“Two!”
“Set him free, Gage. Help your friend.”
“Three!”
I screamed, my voice hammering against the cold stone walls as I charged across the pit toward Bryce. The wooden blade was jerked over my head as I fell to my knees next to his prone body. All I saw were Bryce’s brown eyes widening in terror so that I was nearly drowning in them as I brought the knife down. The boy screamed in pain as the blade broke through his chest, but I had to bring all my weight down on the knife to push it through his heart.
Blood splashed over my hands and I remember thinking that it wasn’t as warm as I thought it would be. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as I watched the light fade from his wide eyes.
A cold hand cupped my cheek and I looked up to stare into the dark pools of nothing that composed Lilith’s eyes. She was smiling at me. “I’ll be coming for you soon, Gage. And you’ll set me free.”
I screamed, the sound ripped out of my throat like a banshee’s wail. Something shook me hard and I jerked upright to find myself sitting on my bed with my brother kneeling on the edge, his hands braced on my shoulders. He said something, but I didn’t hear it past the pounding in my ears. As I gasped for air to scream again, my stomach lurched.
Shoving him aside, I jumped off the bed only to get tangled in the sheets. I fell to my hands and knees, but managed to crawl the final few feet across the room to the small wastebasket before I started heaving my guts up. Bile burned its way along my throat and my lungs locked up, crying out for air. I couldn’t purge my mind of the memory, but my body could purge the contents of my stomach. Tears streamed down my cheeks, but I doubted it was because of the vomiting.
When the spasms stopped, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and fell to my side near the basket. I sucked in deep breaths, willing the shakes to stop as I lay there with my eyes closed. My skin was clammy and covered in a cold sweat, while my entire body hurt as if I had pulled every muscle.
I hadn’t had a nightmare about my time in the Towers for years, and never one about Bryce. I had suppressed that bitch of a memory until I had forgotten about it completely. I had been thirteen when Simon first took me to that damned dueling pit. Bryce looked like he was no more than ten or eleven at the time. We had never met before that day, but I could still remember that nervous smile he had flashed me before we found out what we were expected to do. I remember thinking that he seemed like an okay kid and that if I had met him at home, he would have been someone I would have ridden bikes or played wiffle ball with. Instead, I killed him.
Looking back nearly fifteen years later, I wasn’t sure what had spurred me on to kill him. I wanted to say I had been saving him from more pain and torture. Oh God, I wanted that to be the reason. But a slick and horrible voice whispered in my ear that I had killed Bryce because I had been afraid to die.
“Gage?”
I flinched at Robert’s voice despite its soft and gentle tone. The old wounds were suddenly fresh and the memory was raw in my mind. I was having trouble climbing back into the present, where I was free of Simon and the Towers.
“What time is it?” My voice was rough and hoarse as it escaped my injured throat. I lay on the floor with one arm thrown over my eyes, blocking out the world a little longer. I wasn’t ready to look at my brother when I could still see Bryce’s wide brown eyes in my mind. Even more, I didn’t want my brother to look at me.
“A little after one.”
“Could you start some coffee? I’ve got to jump in the shower before I head to the parlor.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I got it.” He didn’t move for several seconds and I think he was debating whether to ask me something, but he must have decided against it because he left my bedroom without speaking.
When I was alone again, I moved my arm from my eyes and looked around my messy bedroom. The heavy curtains were pulled over the two windows, blanketing the room in a thick darkness that was broken only by light pouring from the open door. Clean and dirty clothes were strewn everywhere along with all the other bits of flotsam accumulated in the normal course of a life. The familiar helped to push back the swell of ugly memories from the Towers and the pain dulled to a throbbing ache that sank in to become a part of my soul.
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