Broken World Book Two - StarSword by T C Southwell

She and Kieran were
thrust into a stone cell with a single barred window, a bunk and a
bucket, the floor sealed with tar, and the solid wooden door boomed
shut behind them. The walls seeped dampness in dark streaks of
black slime, and the marks of many prior prisoners scored them,
names and numbers scratched into the stone in mute testimony to
their existence.
    Kieran rose
from the floor where the guards had flung him, wiping blood from
his brow. Talsy was glad that he was not as badly injured as he had
appeared, but hid it as she paced the floor with growing ire.
    "This is just
great! We come here to free the chosen, and get flung in jail by
some petty lord!"
    Kieran went to
the window and peered out at the passing feet and cart wheels.
    "What are we
going to do?" she demanded.
    "I don't
know."
    "So you'll just
sit here until the Black Riders arrive to slit your throat?"
    The warrior
sank down on the rickety bunk. "Perhaps Shern can get us out."
    "You know what
will happen, don't you? When the Hashon Jahar come, Chanter will
try to save me, and he may get hurt!"
    "At least he
can't die."
    "The chosen of
this city will."
    Kieran sighed.
"Then let them free us."
    Talsy swung
away with a frustrated snort. Silence settled in the gloomy room as
she paced up and down. Cold invaded her from the walls, and the
tar's cloying smell made her head ache. After a while, her steps
slowed as her legs joined her skull in aching and her feet became
numb. She wondered if the seer would leave the city without them,
and whether Chanter would know who they were. Would they risk
fleeing into the hostile forest, not knowing if the Mujar would be
there, or would they await certain death in the city? Talsy jumped
as a warm hand took her arm and led her to the bed.
    Kieran pushed
her down and sat beside her, chafing her arms. "You're freezing."
He removed his short cloak and draped it around her shoulders.
"Relax; you're only wearing yourself out."
    "How can I
relax? We have to get out of here!"
    "Pacing
yourself to death won't help. Chanter will save you."
    "He shouldn't
have to! I'm..." She raised a hand to her brow. "He said I wouldn't
need him after he marked me."
    "Why?"
    "The mark..."
She shook her head. "But I don't know how."
    "How to
what?"
    She sighed, her
head pounding so badly now that she could hardly think. "It doesn't
matter."
    "Why are you so
damned cold?" He rubbed her arms again.
    "It's the
Earthpower."
    He stared at
her. "You're not Mujar."
    "No, but I feel
it more than before. I felt it in the wood, before the Dargon
attacked. Did you?"
    He shook his
head. "I only feel it when he uses it."
    "That's a
manifestation, not the real thing. Since he marked me, I can sense
it when he wields it, but only Dolana."
    "So what does
that mean?"
    "I don't know.
It's given me a headache too. Chanter said that Dolana is an
unfriendly power. It's the only one that can trap him, and it's the
most powerful of the four. This place is filled with it, that's why
I'm cold."
    Kieran eyed
her. "But you can't use it."
    "I'm not
Mujar."
    "Well if you
can feel it, maybe you can. Have you tried?"
    She shivered.
"No. Chanter said I wouldn't be able to."
     
    Kieran gave a
disappointed grunt and stripped off his jacket to put around her,
but her chill continued to worsen. As the world outside the window
darkened, two metal bowls containing a tiny amount of watery stew
and soggy bread were pushed under the door. Talsy had no appetite,
so Kieran ate it all. By now, he was worried about her, for she lay
on the bunk racked by shivering spasms. He tried to summon the
guards, but his calls echoed down the empty corridors beyond the
cell, unanswered. After dark, he made a futile attempt to kick down
the door, then lay beside her and tried to warm her, but only
lessened her chill a little.
    Talsy tossed
and turned, keeping him awake. She moaned and tried to push him
away, whispered Chanter's name in beseeching tones and muttered too
softly for him to make out the words.