Across the Gray Waters

Malik did not sleep. None of them slept. There was no conceivable way they could have even tried to get any rest. The confined space was no wider than Malik’s outstretched arms. There were no places to lie down or to even sit and rest. The ceiling was only just high enough for Malik to stand without having to crouch. He was at least thankful for that. Mollie, Malik, Embre, and Egg were all shoved into the same small cell. Then left alone with no nourishment or a private place to evacuate if they needed to go. 

Malik did not have the nerves to think about his discomfort. The entire night he worried about the morning to come. What were Malum’s plans with them? When the soldiers came in the morning, they would take them to Sweet Tongue, but Malum never said where that would be. Sweet Tongue could be anywhere in Luberg or even outside of Luberg by now. Malik tried to focus on anything else. He tried to think about Khris and his betrayal. 

Khris had been with the Tempre the entire time. He had led them right to where they needed to be, pretending to be the voice of reason. Malik assumed Khris sipped wine with Malum in his rooms. They would reminisce about how much of a fool the others had been. Khris would laugh as he recounted their whole desperate tale. 

During the night, Mollie’s hand slipped into Malik’s. He had curled his fingers around her cold palm. They said nothing, but Malik knew Mollie shared in the same fear that ran through his veins. 

When the keys to the door rattled sometime later, Malik shook the daze from his mind. He had not slept, or at least not a normal sleep. He had been in a daze, thinking of a faraway place, but his body did not feel rested. His legs and back were stiff from standing all night. His neck ached from him leaning his head, in fear of smacking the ceiling. Mollie and Embre looked no better. The soldiers did not care. They prodded and poked all three of them with the ends of their spears. They did not verbalize any instructions, but Malik did not need to hear the words to know he must follow. 

“Theoretically, how many could Egg kill?” Malik asked. 

Mollie did not lean over to whisper back to him. “There will be no killing.” 

Malik thought the answer reeked. He knew the only way out would be to carve every man and woman who tried to stop them. There would be none of that without Mollie and Egg helping. Even then, it seemed unlikely. Malik closed his eyes, trying to keep from wobbling with fatigue. He felt more tired than he had ever felt before. There had been countless nights Abrie had pushed him to go without sleep and again through the next day. Standing in that cell had been different somehow. Maybe being captured and held like an animal weighed on him. Or maybe it was the pain that squeezed his muscles. Malik did not have the time to discover the reason; he just knew it existed. 

The guards led them back the way they had come the night before. There were several sets of winding stairs, followed by icy stone floor, and oil lamps hanging on all the sconces to guide them along. Malik doubted Bently even knew this wing of his castle existed. There would be no servants, maids, or royals wandering here. Instead, there were cobwebs, cold drafts, and empty hearths. Malik wished to be anywhere but here. 

The men did not show care for his sore legs, setting a demanding pace. Wherever they were being taken, it was important they arrived with haste. Malum must have ordered a prompt arrival. He wondered again if Sweet Tongue was in the city of Gray Waters. Would Malik be slit from ear to ear by Sweet Tongue here in this castle? Would he get to see Abrie again before it happened? He resolved that if he did, he would apologize to him. It had never been Malik’s intentions to be a coward. Abrie had known all these years, though. That must have been why he never trained him or guided him toward the Tempre Warriors. Abrie had known his charge was a coward and had protected him from getting himself killed. 

Abrie deserved much more than the simple sorry he would receive. That would be all Malik had left to give him. There was nothing else left. Even Callie and Sally were out there in front of the city. They had not tethered them to trees, and Malik hoped they would wander to a nice farm. Animals would receive a much better welcome than any human ever would. 

The first guard stopped so abruptly in front of two wooden doors Malik almost ran headfirst into him. Luckily, Malik stopped just in time. If he had not, even with Malum’s word, he would have received a backhand. The two soldiers looked back. They did not say a word, but they counted with their eyes to make sure no one had gone away. 

Satisfied, they heaved on the doors together, opening them to the outside. Malik felt the cool air pulling at the front of his shirt. Then he heard the hustle and bustle of daily working men. They yelled out terms that held no meaning to him, but Malik soon gathered they were standard terms for boats, ships, and rafts. They were next to the Gray Waters. The namesake of the city. 

Hundreds of boats came and went. Many of them docked from the night before or came in today. Others pushed off to start on the next leg of their trading journey. Some vessels were transportation rafts, tasked with guiding nobles, workers, merchants, and others across the expansive Gray Waters to the other side of Luberg. Malik knew the mountains lay just on the other side of the Gray Waters. There was no way to see them from here but sailing for a day or two would bring them close. 

The soldiers came to a stop in front of a boat ramp. It was not the biggest boat on the dock, nor was it the smallest. The portly captain waddled down the loading ramp and looked over the crop brought to him. 

“This is the lot then?” 

The soldiers held out a small slip of paper, which the captain took. He read it for a few moments in silence, then crumpled it and tossed it into the lapping waters. 

“That will do it then.” 

He turned to start his way back up the loading ramp and paused halfway up. “Well come on then,” he motioned toward the four of them. 

Malik did not move. The others beside him did not move. He would not get on a ship as a captive. Malik wanted to believe he could fight at least this. The captain stopped gesturing after a few moments and looked to the soldiers. 

“They seem to be quite the stubborn lot.” 

The soldiers did not reply but grabbed the three around their arms. Egg was still clasping onto Mollie. 

“Good, bring them up and we will find a place to stow them away quite nicely. Someplace quiet and out of the way,” the captain was talking loud, but Malik figured he talked to himself. 

The room they found was not extravagant by any means. It was without luxuries. There were no windows to let in light and when the door shut, with the lock clicking behind the captain, Malik could not see a thing. 

Malik could still hear the captain talking on the other side of the door. The soldiers were quiet or gone, Malik did not know which. Then a second voice came answering the captain. 

“I will work to pay my fees,” the voice said. 

Malik strained to hear, recognizing the owner of the voice. 

“What do you know about boats?” the captain asked. 

“I know plenty about boats,” Khris said. 

Malik felt his heart racing. It had not been enough to get them captured; now Khris worked his way into seeing them all the way to Sweet Tongue. Malik tried to contain his anger, but it did not work. He slammed his fist into the door as hard as he could muster. The door did not budge, but his fist throbbed with the poor decision. 

“Calm yourself,” Mollie said, putting a hand onto his shoulder. 

Malik knew Mollie was probably right. Punching the wall would not help them. Punching the wall would only leave him with a broken wrist. Then he would be even more useless than he had been before. Malik pulled his hand toward his chest, trying to calm the throbbing pain. 

“We will figure out a way to get out of this,” Mollie said. 

Malik wanted to believe her, but he doubted it. Malik slid down the wall, sitting onto the floor. Khris and the captain had moved along now. He could no longer hear either of them, but it did not matter. If Malik ever got free, he would make sure killing Khris was his first mission. 

Mollie sat beside him. Embre was somewhere else in the room. Malik could not see far enough to know where she was. 

“Is everyone okay?” Malik asked. 

“Other than being scared out of my mind, I am okay,” Embre answered from somewhere in front of him. 

Mollie shifted. “We will be fine.” She sounded distant, even though he could physically feel her right beside him. 

“How far is the trip across the Gray Waters?” Embre asked. 

 “It matters how fast this boat is, but normally around two days,” Malik answered. 

“You have ridden this way before then?” Embre asked. 

Malik tried not to think about Abrie again. He wondered if they would meet with Sweet Tongue. Dying was a downfall, but at least he could say goodbye. 

“A few times. I have played in the city a handful of times with Abrie,” Malik answered. 

“It would have been fun to play here once,” Mollie said. 

Malik did not like how her voice sounded resigned to the death at the end of the journey. He did not know exactly what he expected it to sound like, but he hated hearing that tone. 

“I heard Khris,” Malik said after a few moments of silence. 

Malik could not see the others, but he was sure they had to have heard him. 

“He was buying his way onto the ship. Probably to see us handed to Sweet Tongue with his own eyes,” Malik said. 

“I thought he was a friend,” Embre was the first to respond. 

“He was a friend,” Mollie said. 

“Some friend,” Malik chided. 

“Something went wrong with Khris. I don’t know what it was, but something went wrong,” Mollie sounded like she tried to convince herself. 

“What went wrong is that Khris’ dad was a Tempre Warrior. Malum even said he may have been one of the more sadistic warriors. Can you imagine that maybe he killed our parents?” Malik said. 

“Couldn’t have killed mine.” Mollie shifted again. “My parents were killed after Khris’ dad was already dead.” 

Malik supposed she was right, but that did not change a thing. 

“Could have still been my parents, or the parents of countless other children. The Tempre are ruthless killers.” 

“I don’t know,” Mollie said, but there was no conviction behind it. 

Malik decided he would not press. Khris had been closer to Mollie before his betrayal. Malik had felt something odd about Khris since the day he had joined them. Malik was still on board with having left him at the first village, but it was too late for that now. Now he had put them on a boat toward death. 

“I am going to stretch out and get some sleep,” Mollie said. 

Malik felt tired as well. Standing in the cell all night had been unbearable. Mollie leaned over and laid her head on Malik’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. Then he leaned his head back against the wall. He did not know where Embre was, but somewhere in the darkness he heard her breathing slow. Malik closed his eyes and tried to calm his racing thoughts. 

The door creaked open only a hair, but Malik’s eyes shot open in panic. He had been sleeping, dreaming of better days, but the light brought him right back to reality. Still trapped on a moving boat toward the other side of Luberg. 

Malik watched the door shut again after a shadow slipped in. Malik listened for the footfalls, but whoever it was did not move. He heard them fumbling with something, and then the strike of a flint lit a small candle. Malik looked over, seeing Mollie’s eyes wide. Across the compact room, Embre laid down, but her eyes were wide open as well. Egg stood, staring right at the person who had lit the candle. 

Malik jumped to his feet, seeing Khris. He would not have to wait until escaping to kill him; he could do it now. Khris held up his hands in a pleading gesture, but Malik was quick. Rage coursed through his veins. He would strangle Khris to death. Mollie was quicker; she pressed her shoulder into Malik’s chest. 

“Wait, a minute!” 

Malik looked over her, toward Khris, who was still back pedaling away from him. 

“I did not come here to hurt you!”

“No, you will wait for Sweet Tongue to do that for you,” Malik replied. 

Khris shook his head. He had hit the wall and there was no place to back up any further. 

“That is not true,” Khris tried to keep his voice from wavering. Malik could see the struggle. 

“What did you come here for?” Mollie rounded on Khris. “You left us to rot in that cell. You did not attempt to help us.” 

Khris looked down at his feet, as if he were truly ashamed of his actions. “I know.” He looked up over the ridge of his eyebrows. “I wanted to help, but I am not a fighter. Malum took me to his rooms and tried to get me to talk about you all, but I refused. He sent me to my own rooms, but the doors were not open. He locked me into the room, and I could not get to you fast enough.”  

Malik laughed. “Must have been hard being locked in a room with a fire and a bed.”

Khris looked at him, steeling his hands. “It was not my choice. Malum has confused me with someone else.” 

It was Malik’s turn to shake his head. “No, he knew exactly who you were,” Malik said. 

“My father was a trader, not a Tempre.” 

“Your father was a cold-blooded killer,” Malik shot back. 

Khris fought back the tears. “I just can’t believe that.” 

Malik believed him. That made Malik even more upset. He turned away from Khris. Mollie would not move out of his way, and he tired of staring at Khris. 

“I did not betray any of you,” Khris continued. “I had no idea. If my father was truly a Tempre, then it is news to even me.”

“You never suspected it once?” Mollie asked. 

“It could make sense, if I stopped to think about it now, but my father was not an evil man. He did well by my mother and I. He always brought me things from his travels. He never struck my mom. The villagers did not like him, but I figured that had always been because he did not work or live there.” 

“If you couldn’t tell your father was a ruthless killer, then you are blind,” Malik said. 

“I could tell my father loved his family, and that was all that mattered to me,” Khris retorted. 

“What are you doing here now then?” Mollie asked. 

“I want to help you guys,” Khris said. 

“How?” Mollie asked. 

There was no answer for a few moments. Malik turned back around to face Khris, who was still not meeting eyes with Mollie. 

“I am not sure yet, but I bought my passage onto the boat. I will travel with you for the entire duration of the trip. The captain said it would take just over two days. I will figure something out to get you all out of here by then.” 

Malik doubted Khris would help get them out of anywhere. The most he would do would get thrown in here with them. Then Malik could take his opportunity to get vengeance for his parents. 

“I have to go now though. I just wanted to tell you all I was here, and I will help you.”. Then he made a clumsy stumble toward the door. No one moved to stop him. He opened the door only a smidge and slipped out again, leaving the room pitch-black. 

Khris had not even done the courtesy of leaving them with the candle. Little good it would have done them anyhow. Malik felt around the room for the wall and sat back down. There was nothing to do on a boat but wait. That was true, even as a passenger. While a prisoner, there was even less. Sleep and wait. They were the two things left to them. 

Mollie stumbled and fell, but Malik could not see to help her. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Just not used to the moving boat,” she replied. 

“Has been awhile since I have been on a boat,” Malik said. He thought for a moment. “I think the last time had to have been three years ago. Abrie and I sailed to a place the natives referred to as the Seeing Eyes. In all reality, it was nothing more than two side-by-side waterfalls overlooking a forest expanse. It was beautiful, though. The natives had made up an entire religion around it. There, they did not fall into line with the popular religion of the Saints. They believed the waterfalls had once been brothers sent to the Earth to keep the forest alive. Hence, the forest provided nutrients and shelter for the people there. They were the ever-watching eyes.” Malik had not been a fan of the place. The natives did not pay well, their food was bad, and they did not believe in ale. 

“Do you think Khris has a shot at helping us escape?” Embre asked, sounding like a hopeful child. 

Malik thought about his travels and focused back onto the problems they faced now. 

“Khris is probably not even looking for a way to help us,” Malik replied. 

He hated to always be the negative voice of reason, but it was likely the reality. 

“I think Khris was telling the truth,” Mollie said. 

Malik figured Mollie had stayed sitting wherever she had fallen. He missed the warmth of her skin. It had been a slight comfort. 

“I think we are wishing for things unlikely to occur,” Malik said in an almost whisper. He lost conviction of the thought halfway through saying it. Maybe he was just being a negative sore. 

There was no reason to believe any of them would ever see freedom again, but there was little reason to keep hammering it home. To die with a little of hope would not be the worst thing to happen to them. 

“Maybe Khris will find a way to help us,” Malik said. 

He did not believe it for a minute, but he tried to convince himself.

No one replied to him. Being in the dark had a way of making one reflect on everything in their lives. Malik could not help but think about everything he had ever done to get to this point. 

He closed his eyes, not that he could see anything with them open anyhow. Against the back of his eyelids, he saw the swirling shapes of his village running from the Tempre Warriors. The Tempre had come from out of the woods next to his village home. His village was small, he did at least remember that much. His mother and father were not important fixtures in the village. He remembered his father helped in the farms and his mother stayed at home with him during the day. At night, his mother tended the bar at the local tavern, and he stayed with a young woman whose name he could not recall. 

The Tempre had not come directly for his home, but Malik had only known about the attack once it hit his door. The sitter had screamed as the Tempre pushed her over onto the ground. Malik was so small they did not bother with pushing him. He turned and ran out the back door. He knew the village well, but did not remember running through the streets. Most of the night escaped his recall. All he remembered were the hundreds of screams. He did not remember seeing anyone killed, beaten, or otherwise harmed, but he remembered their screams. They grated at his ears, and he continued to run. He ran for his mother. He knew she was at the tavern just a small run away from their home. Malik never reached the tavern. The screams rose, and he remembered the smoke curling into the night sky. Somewhere along the way, the Tempre Warriors had lit a fire, consuming most of the surrounding structures. The tavern stood out like a lantern in the black of the night. Malik had frozen there. He did not remember moving. He remembered listening to the screams of everyone he had ever known, but he did not remember seeing them. He did not remember the faces of the Tempre. Malik had closed his eyes and grew roots. 

Sometime the next day, Abrie had found Malik wandering up the road. Abrie did not pressure him into talking. Abrie smelled like smoke and ash, but Malik did not know where Abrie had come from, or how he had found him. It did not matter. After that, Malik grew the grand delusion that he would someday fight the Tempre Warriors. He convinced himself someday he would cause their demise. He would avenge his parents. He would not freeze to the ground the next time he saw them. 

The image in his mind jumped. He saw the scarred face of Sweet Tongue starring back at him. He was back just outside of the traveling village of the Borrowers. He knew if he waited long enough, Timbre would show up and rescue them. Malik knew that if he had pulled the string and shot the arrow that Sweet Tongue would have never had the chance to attack them a second time. Malik had frozen there again. He had frozen so many times in so many battles. 

He had let his friends down, his family down, and he had let Abrie down. There was no one in the world he had saved. He was a failure, and that was who he was. 

The darkness swirled around him and made it feel like his world spun. The waves lapping against the boat did not help. Malik felt like the walls closed in on him and he felt like his skin crawled away from his body. His heart raced faster in his chest, and his breath came harder and harder. Malik felt like screaming into the darkness. He had to make it retreat from him. 

Just as he was about to let it go, filling the room with his screams, the door opened again. It let in only a sliver of light, but it was enough for Malik to see the calm face of Mollie starring back at him. He took a deep breath and kept the screams at bay. 

The door slid open further this time. Malik saw two shapes emerging into the light. One was their old companion, Khris. The other, Malik did not know. Each of them carried a tray of food and drink. There was nothing ravishing on the trays, but Malik’s stomach ached from the hunger. His throat was dry from the lack of water. He thought of charging Khris again, but Mollie would not have allowed it. Even if he had succeeded, she would scold him for his efforts. 

Khris did not show recognition of the captives. He slid the tray down to the ground, as did the other sailor. 

“Eat up,” the sailor said. 

On the trays dried bread, cheese, crackers, and bowls of dirty water called to them. None of it looked appealing, but Malik would still devour it all. Mollie and Embre moved in closer to the trays. Khris and the other man backed to the door. The sailor exited first and Khris watched as the three came forward for the tray. He looked like he pitied them. Malik hated him for that pity even more. 

Khris walked for the door and did not say a word as he closed them back into the blackness.