“We have little time,” said Viele, “and with so many extra it will be tight, but you can all come too.”

  “Oh, so generous he is,” said Barro. This prompted a ripple of unimpressed mutterings throughout his compatriots.

  “Look, Barro, I’d rather see you all rot in here, truth be told. However, we only have one shot at this, and I will not jeopardise it by getting into a fight with you.” Viele pointed past the crowd of prisoners towards the prison entrance. “That is our way out. If you stick to the plan as I tell it, we can all get out of here tonight.”

  “What you talkin’ ‘bout?” said Barro. “That’s no way out. Even if we get through the door, there’s only slaughter waiting on the other side.

  “You said it yourself: we’ve been dealing with the guards. There are many that are still loyal to me and my men. We’ve organised it so that, at the next changing of the guards, those loyal few will make up most of the new guards. It won’t be a clean escape, but with significantly fewer arrows hitting their mark, we’ll stand a chance.”

  “Sounds risky.”

  “Of course it’s risky - it’s a prison break. If you’d rather not take the risk…”

  “You callin’ me yella?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  “I’d run through a thousand arra’s, no sweatin’. Just… you know, the door.” Barro raised one eyebrow at Viele and puffed up his chest. He was so proud to have spotted the flaw in Viele’s plan.

  “That door is old. Like the rest of this place, it has seen better days. On the signal, my men will push it back against the stopper. With enough force, one or both will break.” He turned to his men. “Easy, eh, lads?” They cheered. “For us.” Viele smiled at Barro. “Then we’ll be through and running, freedom just yards away.”

  Barro bristled at what he took to be mockery. “Ha! They think they’ll leave us till the end, lads. Give the nod an’ cut us down. We’ll break down that sorry little door, an’ we’ll be the first ta takes a sip o’ overdue freedom. Them’s the terms.”

  Viele played along, pretending to give the terms real thought with a stroke of his chin. “You drive a hard bargain, Barro. I accept. It makes no matter who goes first. We’ll all be free before the sunrise.”

  Viele turned to one of his men. “What is the time?”

  His man looked up at the glass roof and observed the shadows cast by the moonlight. “Approaching the hour of ten.”

  “Good lord, Barro, you’ve occupied quite enough of our time! The changing of the guards takes place at ten. To the door!”

  “To the door!” said Barro.

  The mob of prisoners raced towards the entrance, followed by Viele and some, but not all, of his men. “Take it anti-clockwise. Avoid the left-hand side. There is a dead drop there,” Viele called to the men in front.

  “We know, we know,” said Barro.

  The mob crashed into the revolving door, but it held firm. Only a handful of men actually had their hands on the door itself. Behind them, a mass of shoulders and elbows pushed hard. So hard that it took as much strength to keep the door from crushing those in front as it did to break it.

  “Push! Push! It will give.” Barro was deep in the middle of the crush. Everyone around him was straining hard. Their focus on pushing whatever, or whoever, was in front of them forward. Veins bulged, muscles tore, feet slipped and were quickly re-positioned. The door started to creak.

  “It’s going, it’s going!,” said Viele from a position at the back of the mob. “Freedom is near,” he called, backing away. He turned and walked back to the far end of the atrium. His men rallied around him.

  “Raffa, Benson,” he motioned to the two men who sat, with sullen faces, nearby. “You nearly soured the deal for all of us. But I understand your motive. You can come with us, but you will be last. We cannot be delayed further by waiting for you to be judged. If you make it out, you know where we’ll be. You will be welcome.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Raffa and Benson said in unison.

  Viele turned to the rest of his men. “Time to see if the whengata keep their word.”

  ***

  The whengata placed a pair of tiny hands on Elfbones’ temples. Up close, Elfbones could see that the skull sat upon the whengata’s head, but it wasn’t being worn. It was a part of the creature, fused to its body. It obscured the upper part of the whengata’s face. Elfbones could see beneath it an array of six black eyes set into a mantle of course hair. This drooped over a mouth that unnerved Elfbones. Not because it appeared so alien, as the rest of the whengata did, but because it didn’t. It was familiar - a mouth much like his own. A human mouth, articulate and expressive in a way that the creature’s eyes were not.

  “We feed upon the lie,” said the whengata. “Answer truthfully.”

  The hands shifted on Elfbones’ temples. As though they were searching for a more comfortable orientation. The whengata’s mouth hung open as though the mechanism for closing it had broken. Elfbones closed his eyes. There was a warmth growing inside his head - not painful, but an unusual presence that was not welcome.

  Elfbones focussed his thinking, trying to concentrate on past times when he had been happy. Memories of better times that might have brought some comfort. He knew they were there in his head somewhere, but they escaped him. Only thoughts of his current situation were present. His capture and trial before King Jasper. His imprisonment. His memory in that instant only seemed to stretch back as far as the night at the palace. Then it looped around to the current moment and back again. A whirlpool of memory, dark and inescapable.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The whengata let out a sigh, “You were witness to another’s judgment,” its voice had changed, softened somewhat. “The interrogation cannot be fairly administered as it usually would be.”

  “No, please,” begged Elfbones, “I barely remember what you asked him, or what he answered. Please give me a chance.”

  The whengata hung silently for a while, tiny hands stuck to Elfbones’ temples. A thick drop of saliva dripped from its slack lower lip to the floor. The warmth in Elfbones’ head seemed restless, moving about in a way that made him feel slightly nauseated. It was like a powerful spotlight was moving over the folds of his brain - in and out of each crevice, leaving no shadow uninterrogated.

  “You will answer the final question. That will be acceptable to us.”

  Elfbones fell silent, recognising the chance he was being given.

  “Answer it well,” said the whengata. “Were you fairly imprisoned here in Schadbane?”

  Elfbones’ mind rushed to answer, but he held back and analysed the question. Could it be a trick? It appeared to be so simple. But the earlier questions - the ones asked of the other prisoner - had seemed unnecessarily complicated. They were obviously devised to befuddle the mind and increase the risk of answering incorrectly, thereby giving the whengata their delicious lie. This struck Elfbones as less than honourable. However, with enough thought, even the simplest of minds should have been able to unravel the questions’ logic and answer correctly. Perhaps they saw it as a punishment for haste.

  This question was not a complicated one. Elfbones could not see the trick to it, if there was one.

  An honest answer is all that is needed to be set free.

  Fear had gripped his heart for too long. It was exhausting. Either he was about to gain his freedom, or this was the end for him. He simply had to choose. A question had been asked. He had given it enough thought.

  A burning in his chest reminded him to breathe. With the next breath, he answered, “No.”

  “You are free to go.” The whengata let go of Elfbones and scuttled across the wall. It paused before vanishing into the shadows of the hive and spoke to Elfbones one last time. “The royal lineage has fallen far.” With that, it returned to its siblings inside the mountain.

  Elfbones wasn’t going to disagree. He pulled open the door and left the prison.

  The night air was so much colder than the chamber. It didn’t matter to Elfbones. It was refreshing. He was free and, better yet, no longer a wanted man.

  Above the exit door was a balcony. It stuck out over the doorway and blocked Elfbones’ view of the guard posted there. Stepping out from the doorway, and around the bushes blocking it from view, he looked up to find the balcony empty. Elfbones’ stomach sank to his ankles. A ladder led down to the balcony from the roof. This appeared to be the only way to access it. Looking to its top, Elfbones caught sight of a leg disappearing out of view.

  “Wait! Come back!” he called. “I need to tell you my name!” There was no reply. Maybe it’s time for the changing of the guards, thought Elfbones. “I’ll wait! I’ll be right here!”

  “No point in waiting.”

  Elfbones jumped out of his skin.

  “The guards are busy at the other end,” said Viele, stepping through the exit doorway. His men followed, one by one. Elfbones didn’t know what to think. They were calm - filing out as though it was a regular doorway, not the exit to a prison.

  “But, the whengata…” the words finally escaped Elfbones’ mouth.

  “Don’t fret. You didn’t suffer through that ordeal unnecessarily. They have judged us all. We simply deferred our release until such a time as the circumstances were right and we could leave together,” said Viele.

  “They just let you walk out?”

  “Today, yes. We all went through the judgement though, don’t you worry. While we technically broke the law of the land, our punishment was deemed to be political in nature and therefore unjust.” Viele watched as the last man exited the prison and closed the door.

  Elfbones looked back into the chamber as the door closed.

  “Wait,” called Elfbones, “there were two more. I saw them. Were they with you?”

  “Yes,” said Viele, “they were.” He turned to face his men. “The schedule has changed, but nothing else. You know what to do.”

  The men immediately split into small groups. Each headed in a different direction. Some towards the town, some towards the palace. All avoided the established paths and tracks, vanishing into the vegetation. One slipped silently around the corner and followed the prison wall toward the main entrance. A handful remained with Viele, whose gaze had risen.

  “I’ve never seen a star so large in the sky.”

  Elfbones looked towards the night sky. The comet hung almost as large as the moon.

  “It’s much bigger than before,” he said.

  “We will take it as a good omen,” said Viele. He turned to his men, and they busied themselves with whispers and conspiratorial looks.

  “I mean, since earlier this evening,” said Elfbones. No one was listening. Viele was deep in discussions.

  Elfbones felt directionless, unsure what to do next. Sitting and staring at the comet, he allowed himself a moment of vacant-minded relaxation. He felt it was earned.

  In time, a figure rounded the corner. The member of Viele’s group who had headed alone towards the entrance.

  “Garoop. How’s it look?” said Viele.

  “I think we underestimated how much Barro and his lot desire freedom. They’re still going.”

  “They’re beyond the door?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Really?”

  “They’re using parts of the door as shields. They are fierce. I don’t much envy the guards. Even the archers up top. They’re going after all of them. It’s a frenzy.”

  “We will have a problem if even one gets through.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Viele turned to Elfbones. “Make the most of your freedom, lad. I will not stop you from going where you will, but I recommend you avoid Riiktigendslig for the moment. It won’t be safe here for a while.”

  “I’m expected in town. Well, I was expected…” said Elfbones.

  “With what is about to happen, I am sure no one would be too upset if you fail to show up. Take the pass, or carry on past and take up the coastal path. Put all this behind you.” Viele looked at Elfbones’ clothes. “Return to Kern.” He patted Elfbones on the shoulder. “And be well.”

  With that, he turned his back on Elfbones and joined his men. They rounded the corner and hurried towards the prison entrance.

  Elfbones was alone, again looking down on the town of Riiktigendslig. Again mulling over which direction to take. Viele’s warning concerned him. Given recent events, a warm bed in town was tempting. Plus, the whengata had pardoned him. But the guard hadn’t taken his name. This meant he didn’t know where he stood, legally speaking, in the kingdom. What a hassle. What was the right thing to do?

  The decision arrived surprisingly promptly. He would put Riiktigendslig behind him and return to the academy. He had arrived via the coastal path and would return the same way.

  The mountain pass piqued his curiosity, though. Rationality slapped down the curiosity. Stick to what you know, he thought. No more adventures for the time being. The way to the the coastal path passed near. He could take a peek on the way if still curious.

  Setting off, an immense feeling of exhaustion enveloped him. After walking for only ten minutes, he decided to rest before continuing the journey. A short distance away, a tree stood alone at the side of the track. Its branches were broad and low enough that Elfbones managed to drag himself into them.

  Resting against the tree’s trunk, he looked towards the pass. There was the little shack. The starry sky etched its silhouette atop the ridge. There was a tree nearby. It, too, appeared to be occupied. In its black branches sat a shadow. A shadow with its arm outstretched - reaching up to the sky, reaching towards the growing comet.