Yuragwyn: Yours

---Chapter 26

₰Traugott₰

I have lost; I have failed. We will all die here in a Granzian prison. They all hate me now. Even if we did manage to escape, they wouldn't go with me.

There is no hope. Maybe if I had taken the arrow instead, Enion would be leading the Yuragwynian army into victory instead of me failing my country by languishing in the enemy prison.

∞Kaitra∞

It is hard to get comfortable in a square barely larger than your arm span. I ache all over, and my burns throb without rest. My eyes have become accustomed to the dark, and the stone walling etches are a bit clearer now. I know Traugott is to my right, and Calanthe to his right. From the direction of the voices during Traugott's story, Briallen is across the hall from me. .

I groan and roll over, wishing I could lie on my stomach for a while. As I turn, a dull pressure embeds in my leg. I jump at the feeling and flounder around for the object. The hard hilt brushes against my fingers, and lively shivers dance up and down my spine, awakened from their tingly sleep. In the rush and flurry of that last day in the sunlight, I had forgotten all about my hidden weapon.

I rip the sheath off and brace myself for the nick on my finger, teeth gritted and eyes closed tight. The blade still rests on my palm and makes no magical leap into the air. Instead, it weighs heavily on me until I collapse into a puddle of dirty, soiled dress and grimy person.

The thud from my fall jars Traugott. "Kaitra, what's wrong? Kaitra?"

But I cannot answer. All that is left of me becomes a mound of tears and frustration and loneliness. I have been strong all this time, for two, maybe three, possibly four long months. I have held up my walls, but now trapped in physical ones, there is little need to keep my own intact. I can almost see my parents, cooking bacon and eggs for breakfast and reading a days-old paper. My heart claws for them, for their loving arms, and I want nothing more than to go home.

My mother's smiling face fades into a shining lady's with silver hair and gray blue eyes. She reaches out to me, and tears overflow as I recognize the woman in my mind. Lady Carys beams back at me, Lord Cadfael coming up on her side. They hold out their hands, beckoning me to join them in their home in Cordina.

These dungeon walls too are jumbling my thoughts and tricking my mind. Everything, everything in this world is united to convince me that I am the daughter of these two soldiers and of Yuragwyn. How could this be true? I am little more helpful than a tethered butterfly in this dungeon: chained and fragile.

My door squeals open, and I face a guard, the tenth time since being thrown down here- thus is the only way to count hours and days. He pitches my meal at me and shoves the door to again, not even glancing at my other hand.

Once he is gone down the hall, I begin to stab at the door, hoping to escape and maybe even take Calanthe with me before the guards come running back. The blade, though, does little better than a small tin weight, as though it was not sharpened at all. The more I punch at the thick wood before me, the more I cry.

Finally, when I am all shriveled up inside from the lack of water, I force myself to eat and lay back down for another mind-numbed stretch.

₰Traugott₰

"Kaitra?" I whisper. The heavy pounding in her cell woke me up but now I hear nothing from her. "Kaitra!"

"What, Traugott?" She asks wearily. Her voice is cracked, parched.

"What ails you?"

"I cannot puncture the door with my dagger. This is hopeless."

I say nothing for a while. Even with a weapon, these walls are impenetrable. Why is it that this dagger would fail us in our deepest need? "Kaitra, how did you get here? In our world?"

"Really, Traugott, I would rather not think about it."

I shake my head, the first sliver of hope peering through the soiled darkness. "No, please. This could help us. How did that blade bear you here?"

"I am interested as well," Calanthe says, her first words since my confession. Her voice brings an ache to my heart. Maybe, if this all goes as I hope, I can redeem myself to her trust.

Briallen only clears her throat, and Kaitra begins:

"Well, my parents gave me the box and its key one morning. They thought it really special, and so of course I became curious. The next morning, leaning against my tree on my mountain, I decided to open the box and unsheathe the knife. I don't know how it happened. It was in my hand and then it was cutting my finger and then it was lying in my palm again. I never moved it. It was winter there, and a drop of blood fell on one of the white oak leaves and stained it. Then I was where you- you found me."

Footprints descend the stairs, and we quiet quickly. In the week we have been exiled to this dungeon, we have learned not to speak around the Granzians. They have kicked at us more than once for this disobedience. They make no mention of our fate, though, and I worry now that he wants only to kill us slowly or perhaps use us as weight for a forced surrender. I can neither accept nor amend this, but I would willingly die for my country. Truthfully, it is long overdue.

Kaitra's door creaks open, and I presume her food is tossed towards her. I do my best to put my hair behind my ears and untangle my scruff as he comes to my own.

"Get up."

I ask no questions, only follow. I stand with a lesser soldier as the guard who opened the door goes to retrieve Calanthe and Briallen. I look at the girls for the first time since our captivity and can hardly see. The light, even in the dingy basement, is blinding to my now nocturnal eyes. They all turn their backs to me.

The guards escort us to the bathrooms and bar the doors. I only hope Kaitra manages to hold on to that dagger. We might have use for it yet.

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