The Exiles

32. Deliverance

Rita came down the spiralling secret staircase behind the altar in the great hall. The same steps she'd descended to marry Ovek all those years ago. How her feet allowed her to move, she did not know, but when she heard a faint, angelic voice calling out beyond the hall — "Papa?" — they brought her to a standstill at the foot of those very stairs. Mawsie? Her heart leapt to her throat. Surely, it couldn't be her boy, not her little Mawsie, here, to see his mum in such a state. How? He should be at my brother's—

"Ah, there you are, my queen!" Rava grinned sickly, standing mighty in his regalia. "Here I was, almost thinking you had changed your mind about saving your fam—"

"Papa? Uncle Rea? Amer? Where are you?" This time, the voice was louder than before, as a familiar face, red from straining to open the heavy doors, popped into the hall. His beady brown eyes sparkled as soon as he saw her. "Mama!"

"Mawsie?" Rita couldn't help herself. She rushed towards him like the thousand times she'd wanted to in the cell, but a part of her wondered, is he real? Regardless, she ran towards her son, for her legs could no longer keep her still, nor could Rava catch her on time.

"Mama!" The boy ran into her open arms like she was the sun, the air, and the moon.

"Who is this boy, Lady Rita?" Rava queried behind her.

Rita heard him not as she embraced her son and placed all the kisses in the world on his beautiful head. "How are you here, my boy? How?"

"I don't know, Mama. I was following Attin... even if Ursa told me to go..." He giggled as she nuzzled her head into his neck. "Mama, stop. You're tickling me!"

"Oh, I've missed you so much!" Rita ignored everything around them for this slice of heaven. That was what he was, a slice of heaven in this hell she'd been in for who knows how long. "I've missed you—"

"I've missed you too, Mama. Where have you been all the time?"

"Siege the boy!" Rava bellowed behind them. "Drag them both to me now!"

Immediately, powerful arms pulled Rita back towards the altar.

"No!" she yelled, but too late. Guards ripped little Mawsie from her arms and Rava advanced upon the child menacingly. "No! Please. Don't touch him. Don't touch — I'll do anything you want. Please. Not my baby!"

Rava stopped in front of Mawsie, a faint, victorious smile tugging at his lips. He crouched down to meet her son's gaze. "Did you hear that, Mawsie? Your Mama begs me not to touch you; that she'll do anything I say. Do you think that's true? That she'll do anything I ask?"

Rita watched helplessly as Mawsie peered at her through his thick lashes and nodded.

Rava reached a hand to touch Mawsie, and Rita's heart thudded as her boy tried to escape the stranger's touch. But Rava grabbed his chin and studied him. "Tell me, Mawsie. How did you get here? Did someone bring you? Maybe your Papa?"

Mawsie huffed out his little chest. "No one brought me. They wouldn't let me. So I came on my own. They don't even know I'm here."

"They?" he prodded.

"Mawsie! You don't have to answer him, sweetpea." Rita warned, wishing he would stay mum. If he was right and they were here, she didn't want Rava sending out his guards to round them all up, her family. She needed to buy them time to get out again. But why have they abandoned their battle to come here?

"Oh, but you do, Mawsie. You do have to answer me." Rava smiled at her boy. "I am a perfectly reasonable man, but your mother has promised me something in return for your safety. All of your safety. She gave me her word. And now, I'll make you a deal too. You look like a bright young man." He straightened Mawsie's collar as if he were an uncle who cared. "You answer my questions, and I'll promise you, I'll keep your mother safe. How's about it, Prince Mawsie? Do we have a deal?"