Empire Island, Exile the First

Chapter 18

I had no idea how long it took, but I thought my bladder was going to explode when somebody finally opened the door again and said my name.

"Kairos," they whispered and I didn't look up from where I was laying on the floor.

They walked over to me, looked down and said, "I brought you something to eat. It's a treat for your special day."

I looked up and found Sarai looking down at me with a wicker basket of fresh fruit and baking. She held a thermos with ice cold water in her other hand.

"I need the bathroom," I said, my voice catching in my throat.

"I have a bucket," she said, looking to the side as if ashamed. I wasn't sure if she was ashamed of her participation in keeping me captive or if the idea of peeing in a bucket filled her with embarrassment.

Either way, she was a human garbage pile for being here in my opinion.

"Can you stand up?" she asked, reaching down to help me. I managed to get to my feet and avoid devouring everything she'd brought me by thinking about my bladder and not my stomach.

"How long have I been here?" I asked.

"Three days," she said. "It's almost time, though, so you'll be out soon."

"Time for what?" I asked.

"You'll find out," she said and her face lit up with this idiotic excitement, as if the danger I was in was like the excitement of Christmas.

She left and I let her go without any more fighting. I did my business on the bucket and wiped with the thick, soft toilet paper they'd sent. I must've been going to die or something tonight if this was how well they treated me. It was like Mara's version of a last supper.

Speaking of which, I couldn't wait to find out what they'd brought me.

I picked up an orange and left it, then opened a paper bag, taking out the most incredible looking cinnamon bun I'd ever seen. If only it'd been served warm with a slab of butter on it, it would've been heaven.

I lifted it to my nose, closed my eyes and inhaled deeply.

And promptly threw it down.

Somebody had covered it with a sticky paste of concentrated poppy seed and spelled it with something toxic and powerful. At least that's what it smelled and felt like, I hoped. Or else I had just thrown away good food.

It kind of made sense, though, for them to layer everything in a drug and with magic that wouldn't kill me, but would knock me flat on my ass until they could do whatever they needed to do to me.

I pulled the other items out of the basket, an avocado sandwich, a homemade granola bar and some hummus with carrots for dipping. All of it carried the odor of sickly sweet poppy and cloying magic. The only safe items I could tell were the orange and the carrots, so I hunched in the light from under the door and ate them alone in the dark. The fragrant orange gave me a boost of energy I desperately needed and the crunching carrots woke me up, making me feel connected to life again. To reality.

Scent and sound, the two things that drew me back from the misery I'd been floating in. The self-hatred and sense of failure I'd simmered in while kept in this little wooden cell.

After I ate, I stood and stretched and began to go through some yoga forms, throwing in tai chi I'd been taught years ago. The movements were slow and beautiful, but as I sped them up, I felt like I gained power.

My self-pity slowly shed with each pass of an arm, with each graceful clench of a fist.

I found myself again, here in the dark, and came out swinging when they came to get me. Despite my underlying unaddressed trauma and depression, I was a survivor. I had coped this whole time, since I left Empire. But now, I'd actively fight to regain my sense of purpose.