Days and Night

Life in the Pocket settled into a routine. There wasn’t much to do, so my father thought that as long as we had the free time, I should practice my magic. So every morning, I stood in the field as Granny coached me on the fundamentals of magic—even though I already knew the fundamentals. I mean, obviously, I did, considering how I could use some magic now. But every time I brought that up to Granny, she would gently rap me on the head with her staff. “I could only half teach you in the Empire, late at night behind closed doors, hiding from the patrols,” she said. “When I was learning magic as a girl, my mother made me practice breathing exercises for seven years before she taught me a spell. That’s the way our people have always learned. Honestly, it’s a wonder you can do any magic at all. Now, close your eyes, breathe deeply, and visualize the Expanse.”

But you couldn’t practice magic all day, and Granny grew tired easily. So I had plenty of time to kill. Back in the Empire, I would have spent free time like this with the few friends I had, but that wasn’t an option here. Bekah had discovered a library/archive left by the whatever ancient mages who had built this place. She practically spent all day and night there, eagerly pouring over the dusty pages.

“It’s boorrinnnggg,” I complained one day to Shemman as he and Jepha ate the meal I had brought them. “I never thought I’d miss the Empire school.”

Shemman chewed and swallowed. “Did you take pleasure in school?”

“No way. They spent all the time teaching us how the Golden Monarchs were mages who were cruel and evil and generally massive jerks who used their magic to build an empire and oppress everybody else. That’s why the Empire discriminates against mages.”

Shemman nodded sagely. “For that very reason, the Aijalon warrior monasteries have long trained in methods of fighting the devils and their magic.”

Japha spoke up. “Brother, Miss Rakel said that is a bad word! You can’t say bad words!”

“Indeed. A slip of the tongue from long habit. I apologize, Rakel.”

“It’s fine. Every day, after school, I’d come home and learn about the real history from my dad and my…mom.” The latter word came with a spike of remembrance, and of grief.

It must have shown on my face, because Shemman said “I do not wish to pry into personal matters. However, I did see your father when we fought, but I have not seen your mother. Is she…”

“She died,” I said, my voice husky. “It was a mob. There was a drought, and they heard she had magic that could stop the rain. My father didn’t get there in time, and…”

“I am sorry,” Shemman said. “I should not have asked.”

“Yeah.” I wiped away the tears that had started leaking. “Let’s talk about something else.” I thought desperately for some other topic. The dark, damp room that contained the jail cell was not producing much in the way of conversation topics, but I gave it a shot anyway. “Um, what do you like to do for fun?”

“Well, as you no doubt can see, I have little opportunity for doing fun things in this cage,” Shemman replied dryly.

“Don’t be silly. I meant back home.”

“We had little free time in the monastery; much of the time we had was spent in training.”

“Yeah, I get the ‘trained to be a child soldier’ thing, but I mean when you weren’t training. What did you do with your friends?”

“Er…”

I grinned. “Aw, did you not have many friends?”

“That is not it!”

Japha piped up “but brother, you always said you did not need companions, because your studies of the blade were enough.”

“You are not helping things, brother!”

I gave a hardy laugh. Shemman went red in the face. “It is not funny!”

“Having no friends isn’t funny, but your reaction is!” That made him grow even redder as I kept laughing.

When I finished teasing him, I asked what he learned at the monastery. He was evasive: “we learned techniques.” But despite my pressing him, he didn’t say more.

Over the next few days, I started looking forward to my time talking with Shemman and Japha more and more. Some days I would only chat with them for a few minutes, while others I would spend hours in the room with their cell.

“I wish Liah would come down here and talk with you some time,” I complained one day, nibbling on a slice of bread while the boys finished their meal.

“Who is Liah?” asked Shemman.

“Another girl. She’s two years older than me, but she was the only mage anywhere near Bekah’s and my age. So our parents thought we should play together.”

“I see. And why do you wish her to talk with me?”

“So she can bug somebody else!” I exploded. “Every day, at meals, she grinds her teeth, just to get at me. She knows I hate it.”

Experimentally, Japha began grinding his teeth as he ate. Shemman told him to stop.

Shemman said “we rarely have visitors other than yourself.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your father came once to check the integrity of this cage. Satisfied, he left without saying a word.”

“How rude of him.”

Shemman cocked his head curiously. “I think it rather normal, no? Indeed, if you will forgive my saying so, Rakel, I think it is you who acts oddly by spending such lengths of time speaking to prisoners.”

I swung my legs. “I can stop, if you want.”

“No need. Despite our differences, I find our conversations enjoyable. They break the monotony.” He paused for a moment to glance at Japha. The younger boy was scratching something into the wall with the bone left over from his meal. It looked like a stick figure throwing a spear at some round blob that I assumed was an animal. The boy seemed engrossed in his artwork. Shemman beckoned me to come closer to the cage. I did so, and he leaned in and lowered his voice. “I worry for my brother. The monastery teaches patience, but he is still a child. He needs time to run around, and this cage is too cramped for such play.”

I thought back to how the boys Japha’s age acted at school. “I get that.”

“So, then, may I ask you a favor?” I assented. “Tonight, when the rest are asleep. I ask you let him out temporarily, that he may run and stretch his legs.”

I took a moment to think about it. “My dad would get awfully mad if he found out.” I grinned with excitement. “Let’s do it.”

Although there was no sun or moon in the Pocket, it did follow cycles of light and near-darkness that came close enough to day and night. Bekah had measured them one time and said that the “day” and “night” were each slightly longer than a real day-night in the real world, but I still couldn’t tell the difference.

We rarely wasted candles during the dark cycles, especially since the Pocket never grew darker than a moonlit night, and the buildings seemed to allow the light in, despite their lack of windows; another mystery created by the mages who built this place. So when I snuck out in the “night,” I had no trouble seeing my way back through the familiar passages.

When I got to the cages, both brothers were lying still. I thought they were asleep, but at the sound of my feet on the floor they both rose. I held up the key. “Snuck straight under my father’s nose,” I boasted.

Japha looked excited. Shemman, face calm, said “let’s begin.” I inserted the key, turned it, and threw the cell door open wide. Faster than I could react, I felt a force slam me into the wall.

Shemman had exploded from the cell like a bolt from the most high-power autocrossbow. I tried to shout but one hand was over my mouth. The other had my hands pinned to the side. He used his body weight to prevent me from moving.

“Do not struggle,” he warned, his face just inches from mine. “I do not want to hurt you if I do not have to.” Over his shoulder, I saw Japha emerge from the cage, too. Shemman said “we shall go to your grandmother. She will use her magics to open the way to the real world. Japha and I shall leave this place.” He repeated “I do not want to hurt you.”

Our faces were so close that I could see his expression clearly, despite the dim lighting. I was no expert on reading people. That was Liah’s area of expertise. But at this distance, his feelings were unmistakable: his face showed fear. And even more clearly, regret.

So I kneed him in the groin. Hard.

With a whimper, he collapsed, curled into a ball. I stood over him, panting. Before I could think what to do, I heard laughing and clapping coming from Japha. He acted for all the world like he had just watched a comedy act at a circus.

All I could think to say was to ask Shemman “what did you tell your brother you were going to do?”

He replied, his voice pitched even higher than mine, “I told him to watch, for I would put on a show.”

“That you did, I guess.” I picked him up and half-helped, half-dragged him back into the cell. Japha followed us in. After Shemman was situated and seemed to have partially recovered, I said “that was pretty stupid, you know. You heard Granny back then. She can’t open the portal to the real world yet, even if she wants to.”

“I thought she was lying.”

“Like I said, stupid.” I playfully bonked him on the head.

“What a cruel woman,” he complained, although I could see that despite his pain, he was smiling.

“Hmph.” I put my hands on my hips, imitating how I thought a snobby upper-class girl would act. “That’s rich, coming from the man who just assaulted a girl minutes ago.”

“Says the girl who just assaulted me.”

“It was self-defense! Besides, I really did it for your sake.”

“For my sake?”

“Deep down, you didn’t want to leave. I know you’d miss me too much!”

“Do not flatter yourself,” he said.

I grinned. Then with a mental start, I realized I only smiled like this around him. I had said I thought he would miss me, but the truth was, I would miss him. I enjoyed his company; I had no one else I could banter with like this. The thought sent a flush across my face, quite apart from the remnants of the fear (or was it excitement?) of being attacked. “Well!” I said to cover it. “I’ve had quite enough for one night. I’m going to bed.”

Japha piped up “don’t forget to lock the door, Miss Rakel.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose I better do that.”

Shemman said “I suppose you better.”

I closed the cage and re-locked it. As I turned to leave, Shemman called out. “Rakel. You may not believe it, but I truly am sorry. I should not have done it, and I shall not do such a thing again.”

“You better not.” In a whisper, I added “and yes, I do believe you.”