The Rokkoh Adventures

Rokkoh and the Final Year, Chapter 8

Seven days down, twenty-three to go. Walking laps around the Frozen Chamber helps keep the cold at bay during the day. At night, a small fire and multiple layers do their best. Through the bars at the top of the Frozen Chamber, the sun gleams in its cold stare. Snow drifts here and there up above, but an invisible barrier keeps the little flakes from forming hills inside the single-cell prison. Nighttime smoke, though, has thus far been able to escape and not poison me in my sleep. The bars tease and taunt, the space between them enough for someone to slip through if they squeeze. But getting up to them is an impossible task.

The surrounding stone sits smooth in its surmounting circle. Scaling the walls proved to be a fruitless endeavor long ago. A fight that left broken noses and bruised ribs a few years ago landed me within these walls, though it had been summer and this place's moniker had been Baltevmt's Maw at the time. I had only spent one day baking in the heat then, and I had thought it could not be any worse. I never thought winter's bite could cut to my bones so effortlessly, even with the layers. That's a mistake I won't soon forget.

The sun's light wanes. As the moon takes over and fills the land with its own luminescence, my stomach begins to beg. The tray Cy left behind for my afternoon meals sits patient and empty near the ring of rocks and ashy remains of last night's fire. My bedroll and additional blanket wait there as well. A waste hole is quarantined by the entrance, an iron door with a tiny square barred window.

Snow crunches from beyond that door, but the darkness of the little window is too much to show who approaches. Metal jingles a high jig for a moment before scraping into the iron door. The lock there clicks, the hinges screech in protest, and through the doorway steps the figure. With a snap of two fingers, the small fire pit lites and comes to life. Cy points to the empty tray, and I fetch it for him without hesitation. For it he hands me a new one, this one carrying a fresh bowl of soup and half loaf of bread. He steps back toward the door, pausing within the frame to remove something from his pocket. A miniscule vial makes his huge hands look even bigger; its odd pink contents pour into the waste hole before returning to his coat pocket. Without a word, Cy closes the door and locks it once more. His footsteps fade after a few steps, and I return to solitude.

The soup brings warmth with its flavorful vegetables and broth. I take it slow in front of the fire, let myself enjoy the thawing of my limbs. Despite my careful rationing, the slices of bread soak up the liquid remainders all too soon. I relax back against the wall, stomach full and body warming up.

Crunching returns from outside, this pair of feet lighter on the snow. Just as soon as it comes, it disappears. My eyes glue to the iron door. Why is Cy back and trying to be quiet? Has the Baroness changed her mind and decided to let me back inside early? What spurred on this sudden change? Did Wassim come clean and take responsibility for his actions? Seems unlikely, in hindsight.

Something brushes against the outer wall, but the sound comes and goes so quick that I wonder if I had heard anything at all. My eyes stay on the door, ready for it to creak open once more and reveal Cy's wide and tall frame. But there is only silence. Not even the wind cuts through the dark of night with its eerie whistling. Only the crackling fire remains.

"Psst..." The hushed attention-grabber draws my eyes upward. Legs dangle over the edge and in between two of the bars. Wrapped in a thick coat and sitting atop the wall is Kym. She gives a little wave with a gloved hand, and I simply stare in wonder. Pushing herself from her perch, she lands with precision and ease near the door.

"Hey," she says with a cool little smirk.

Wide but blank eyes just stare at her. This isn't real. She isn't real. My mind has finally snapped after a week-long bout of isolation and has begun hallucinating. At least it went with something nice and calming instead of diving headfirst into nightmare territory. Perhaps that will come later, when I least suspect it.