When I shine the light of the torch in Gideon's face, he raises his head. In the two decades I've been holding him prisoner, I've seen many emotions on his face: mostly anger, defiance, even resignation at times. This one is new. It's pure hatred.

"You shouldn't let yourself go like this. Clean up this room and by the sake of the Moon Goddess, wash yourself. The stench in here is abhorrent." I point the light at the little vegetable garden he uses to keep himself fed and squint at a small plant. "Is that an apple tree?"

"What do you want, Marush?"

"Talk. But before we do, where did you get the seeds for the tree?" I distinctively remember only dropping off seeds for vegetables he despises. Apples are different. He loves them.

"An enchanted bird?"

Bloody hell. "Don't insult my intelligence. Who was down here?"

"No one." His shoulders slack and his face reflects the total defeat I noticed the last few times. "A couple of apple seeds were mixed in with the rest. What else could it be? Everyone thinks I'm dead, so who would even come looking for me?"

Fair point.

"Now what do you want, Marush?"

I decide to forget about the apple tree. Let him have this little treat. What I'm about to tell him will be a good punch in the gut; if he still had his own Na Miodóg, he'd probably off himself. "Guess who has been staying with us at the Iomaire Draíochta?"

"Santa Claus?"

"Not quite." I smirk. "Your daughter, Raelyn."

The little bit of color he has left in his cheeks drains from his face. "How did you find her?"

"She was exposed to magic, which freed her own powers. I then invited her to come to the Highlands to train with me. She is strong—not like a Sentinel—but decent. Which brings me to my first question. I know from Sazith that timing her birth with the lunar eclipse gives her fire powers, but why bother? Why was this so important to you?"

"Go to hell, Marush. I'm not going to tell you anything."

Big mistake. With one leap, I'm next to him and ram my elbow into his mouth. He goes down with a groan. Before he can get to his feet, I squat next to him, grabbing his hair. One pull forces eye contact. "You will cooperate, or I swear. . ."

"What?" Chuckling, he spits blood onto the floor. "You can't kill me without a Na Miodóg, so what do you have in mind? Lock me up? Oh wait, you're already doing that."

I should've bloody killed him when I had the chance. Letting go of his hair, I stand and look down on his meager frame. One kick in the middle of his stomach has him roll into a ball.

"I can do much worse than lock you up. You might not die, but you are not immune to pain. Or maybe I take it out on your daughter. If she hasn't taken her blood promise in the next three months, she will turn into a regular werewolf. And after burning down the territory of the Northern Light pack, she is no longer welcome among their kind. What do you think they'll do to her once they find out she has no more magic? My bet, they'll probably skin her alive."

"Why would she burn down Raynes's territory?"

"In her defense, I made her do it." I laugh. "She is like a piece of clay in my hands, so easy to mold and manipulate. A shame really that she might lose all of her powers. And if it weren't for the malediction, she'd make a good mistress. I would've shagged her senseless."

I take a step back and ready myself for another kick when a sudden rope around my ankles makes me stumble. My knees hit the ground hard and I struggle to keep my balance. In the next breath, he is on top of me. Battering down with years of penned up frustration, he aims his fists at my head. Blow after blow hit my skull and temple until the world explodes in stars.

When he lifts my upper torso and slams it onto the cold ground, the wind is knocked out of me. I stretch out my arm and pull the door close before he can escape. Nausea churns in my gut as my stomach bears the brunt of Gideon's next punishment. With every kick that finds its mark, pain shoots to the tips of my nerve ends. I choke on my blood, the humming in my ears threatening to pull me under.

Focus on your breathing.

It's to no avail. My body isn't fast enough to heal itself and shadows cloud my mind. The pain is all consuming. Agony cuts through me with every breath, every twitch, every shout. For a beat, he steps back, but the moment of respite is short lived. I holler out when a wooden stake drills through my sternum. Air bubbles in my chest from the blood flooding my lungs. There's nothing left but torment and the metallic taste in my mouth. The buzzing in my head threatens to split my skull.

With my last ditch effort, I scrape my fingernails over the metal that makes up the ground. The power of my life essence weaves a powerful link chain from the small particles that break loose, ready to guard me, eager to turn into my soldier. Too weak to lift my head, I send the chain on its way to fight my attacker.

Make him stop.

For the longest, I lay on my side, wheezing and immobilized by the overpowering pain. The nausea has turned to bile in my mouth. Controlling my breathing, I manage to pull myself into a sitting position. Eyes closed, I pull the stake from my chest. The splinters coming loose pierce my insides like nails drilling through my bones. For a beat, I fight a new dizzy spell. Healing energy radiates from my clutched hands over the wound, fusing the torn-apart blood vessels, soothing the cuts and abrasions like a balm, cooling the bruises before they can settle deep within my tissue. With every new breath, more pain is released into the air. Finally, I'm able to heave myself up, although my knees are still a bit wobbly.

I stare down at Gideon on the ground. My metal warriors have done a number on him; the chain is solidly wrapped around him with only the head sticking out. Despite metal being his second strongest power, he won't be able to break the links. The special iron ore I harvested in the depth of an African mountain range will give me full control, just as it keeps him confined within these walls. It's the type of metal that only submits to the will of a Metal Sentinel.

"That was a very stupid move," I hiss.

He smirks. "But it felt good."

I tighten the chain until he groans, just to give him a taste of what is in store for him.

"Back to Raelyn. Why did you time her birth with the lunar eclipse?"

His only response is the smirk plastered on his lips. Closing my hand, I tauten the metal to squeeze him like a bug. Breaking bones crack and I picture his insides bursting.

"Stop." The word is no louder than a wheeze. Pain has dilated his pupils; they almost cover his gray irises.

I loosen the links and give him a few moments to heal.

"It was Kaleidopae. She told me that it was a crucial part of her plan."

Kaleidopae?

My brows furrow.

What on earth is he on about?

"What plan? And Mother died almost two hundred years ago. Don't tell me she truly found a way to cross back into the land of the living from the afterlife."

"I'm not sure how, but she has found a way to travel back and forth across the spirit line and communicate with other Caomhnóirs."

Which includes him and Sazith, and potentially the hybrid. "And what is Kaleidopae's plan?"

"No idea." When the chains retightens, he grunts. "Look, I was nothing but the hired help. No one ever tells me anything."

"You were a bloody Sentinel. I doubt you just blindly followed orders without questioning them."

"Maybe I didn't want to know. Call me ignorant all you want, but when a warlock like Kaleidopae asks you for a favor, you don't challenge her, no matter if spirit or alive."

Mother certainly had this effect on people. I can't recall even a single warlock who wasn't scared shitless of her.

"Okay, let's move on. The night Raelyn was born, you left a pendant for her protection. The stone in that pendant was my Cloch Draíochta."

"I swear I didn't know."

"Who gave it to you? And don't give me that bullshit that it was Kaleidopae. Spirits can't carry tangible things."

He shakes his head; he doesn't want to answer me.

Suit yourself, old friend.

Moving my fingers as if playing a beautiful tune on a piano, I let the chain works its magic. Eyes closed, I allow the power to flow, relishing first Gideon's grunts that turn into shouts. It's not until only gurgles remain as he chokes on his blood that I stop the chain from compressing him into a meatball.

I smirk down on him. "Were you saying something?"

Blood bubbles from his mouth and every vein in his eyes has burst, coating the white with a pinkish red. His lips try to form words but only a raspy breath escapes.

I squat down and lean closer. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you."

"Sazith." The word fans warm against my cheek.

"Very good. Do you know where the rest of my Na Miodóg is?"

"No."

I squint at him, not quite buying his denial, but the torment burning in his eyes is enough to convince me that he is too far gone to be deceitful. I stand, not yet willing to free him from his misery. There is one more punch to deliver.

"If you are wondering what happened to Nadja, they killed her. Even if you ever make it out of here, she's gone."

Fresh pain clouds over his eyes. Only brokenness remains. His physical wounds will undoubtedly heal, but losing the love of his life will scar his soul for the remainder of his pitiful existence on earth. No means to recover.

My gaze flicks around the prison. His cot has collapsed after he used one of its legs as the stake to stab me, and the little apple tree lies unrooted on the ground, stripped off its bark that functioned as the tripping rope. No army created from the heart of wood would ever be strong enough to measure up to the forces of metal—a masterpiece during the creation of warlocks. Kaleidopae might've been powerful, but in the end, her strength as Earth Sentinel could've never measured up to my metal powers. I was made to rule, not only the warlock community but all the other inferior creatures as well.

My focus shifts back to Gideon gasping on the ground, still wrapped tightly in my ironclad net of indestructible metal. A few days of discomfort will teach him not to mess with me again. "I'll be back soon."

"You can't win this, Marush. Surrender your power and you might still have a chance."

I snort. Fat chance. Power is the only thing worth striving for. "Once I've retrieved my Na Miodóg, I was going to take you out of your misery, so you could be with Nadja in the afterlife. On second thought, that would be too easy. I'll go after your daughter instead. That way, you lost everything of meaning in this world."

He doesn't make a sound, but his eyes betray him. The defeat is stronger than ever before. Smiling, I turn and open the door, glancing one more time over my shoulder before I lock him away in his prison again. He stares stoically at the wall; all fight has left him.

Many moons ago, when we were still like brothers, I would've given my life for him. Now he only reminds me of the one thing he took from me. Losing Nadja will be a scar we will share, even if it's a piece of knowledge he will never be privy to.

~~~~

© Sally Mason 2018

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