Shadow and Wild Magic

Interesting character, this Shadow fellow. A creator of long-shot plans for sure. Ezra leaned against the wall between his and Shadow’s cell. How many more sindurs had he heard in there? At least two. Another one returned shortly after Shadow had shared his plan.

During his stay here, Ezra had noted three things.

One—the smell here was worse than a whale’s stomach. And Ezra had been in a whale’s stomach.

Two—he was far from the only one here. After three days since his capture, he’d gone through five interrogations and two walks in the Pig’s Pen, as the sithrax called it. The Pig’s Pen was the prison yard. All prisoners gathered there at lunchtime. He’d seen humans, dark elves, and even sithrax here. But sindurs? Those were the rare kind. Sindurs got killed or returned if they disobeyed, not imprisoned in the Fortress of Stahl.

Three—after lunch, the guards didn’t lock the doors until nightfall, until all prisoners had returned to their cell. Ezra didn’t know why, but it seemed like those lizards wanted to lock everything at once. This left a window of opportunity. He hadn’t shared this information with Shadow yet. He wanted to study it more, see if there was a pattern. A pattern in prison was a vulnerability.

This was far from Ezra’s first time in prison, let alone a Fortress. The Sultan of Galies would probably remember him. After all, he was the Collector, and he always got into trouble.

He’d missed this. He could admit that to himself now. Maybe he was a little deranged, but he’d miss this feeling of excitement. The adrenaline.

“Are you still there?” Shadow asked on the other end of the wall.

His accent was thick and melodious. He rolled the Rs almost like a Gaelisi peasant. Ezra imagined him red with yellow eyes, like the previous sindur he’d met. He missed that little boy too! Luky was his name. Ezra hadn’t written to him in ages.

“Yes,” Ezra eventually answered. “I’m thinking, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“I’ll tell you later.” Ezra paused and thought. It was almost lunchtime. The guards would come soon and send the prisoners down the Pig’s Pen. “They’ll take us to the prison yard in a bit. I’ll see you there.”

“The prison yard?” Shadow sounded confused.

“Yes, for lunch. Hope you like sandworms.”

Shadow didn’t respond, but Ezra was sure he was making a disgusted face.

The Pig’s Pen was the same as the previous days. Walls of steel surrounding a square of sand. Prisoners looking lost in the corners, against the walls seeking shade. In the middle was a large pot of sandworm mash, the only food the sithrax gave the prisoners of Stahl. It was disgusting, but Ezra had to eat something. One guard stood by the pot and waited for hungry prisoners to stand in line.

Even in the sithrax land of Rallis, prison had the same rules. Make friends. But Ezra didn’t feel like talking to the gang of dark elves, the two scar-faced wood elves, or the bulky humans who played some made-up game with rocks. There was only one person—man-cat he wanted to make friends with.

They’d taken Ezra out of his cell before Shadow. Ezra didn’t know what the man-cat looked like, but he was staring at the yard’s entrance, expecting a red sindur to come out. He waited and waited until two red cats came out. One skinny, one slow. Both didn’t look like the Shadow type. The sindur that followed, though, now, that was an interesting one. All black. His fur seemed so smooth that it was shiny. He was tall for a sindur, and he certainly looked more athletic than the slow red one. He wore a sand-colored tunic. Well, it was pretty much dark brown by now. Dirty and muddy. If Shadow had to be one of these cats, Ezra hoped it’d be the black one. He looked like a sindur who’d have a chance at escaping.

Ezra walked to him, passing the dark elves. When he came face to face with the black sindur, the latter examined him with bright green eyes.

“Is that you, Shadow?” Ezra checked.

The black sindur nodded, then he hesitated. “Are you the man next to us?”

This was definitely Shadow. Ezra recognized his voice and the thick accent. The other two sindurs, now three, stared at him cautiously. Shadow said something to them in Sindawr. The slow red sindur looked like he was disapproving of Ezra. Ezra didn’t speak their language, so he had no idea what was said. Common, Taz, and a bit of Elven were enough to get him by in this world.

The red sindurs walked away and went to stand in line by the food pot. The other one, all grey and probably female, lay her hand on Shadow’s shoulder. She said something, then joined the others. Shadow’s attention finally returned to Ezra.

“Your friends?” Ezra asked and pointed.

“We were fleeing together,” Shadow replied.

“And you were going to cross the Barrier.” Ezra looked around. “Do you see your mage anywhere?” he asked quietly.

Shadow briefly scanned the area. “No. But I’m sure he’s here.”

Ezra noticed the guards patrolling around the Pig’s Pen. They’d stopped walking and were now looking at him and Shadow. The two had to be discreet and not attract too much attention. A sindur talking to a human was definitely something suspicious.

“Let’s get in the line,” Ezra said. “I’ll stand behind you.”

Shadow queued up behind the grey sindur. Ezra was next, but he made sure to keep his distance. They could still talk here.

“Who are all these people?” Shadow asked, looking slightly over his shoulder.

“Other prisoners. Don’t bother with them too much. Some of them actually deserve to be here.”

“What about you? What did you do?”

Ezra chuckled softly. “I was caught sniffing around Lahok’s archives. Did you know the sithrax actually have libraries? I didn’t, and I was astonished.”

“What did you do in the archives?” Shadow asked, whispering.

“I was looking for something,” Ezra replied.

Before Shadow could ask more, they had reached the food pot. The guard served him and Ezra a bowl of mashed sandworms. Disgusting, but Ezra had eaten similar things in his past. He could shrug it off.

“Best if we sit separately,” Ezra advised the black sindur. “I’ll talk to you back in the cell.”

“Okay.”

Ezra walked away. He picked the same corner as the previous days, the human corner. He had no interest in talking to them, and they left him alone anyway. That was one of the advantages of his reputation. Even in Rallis, people had heard of Ezra. The legend of the Collector was still alive and well.