THE JEALOUSY OF JALICE

Chapter CHAPTER 3



Jalice let out a choked scream.

A hand shot across her mouth. She wrestled against Annilasia but found the constrictive embrace immobilizing. She tried shouting over the woman’s hand, but her cries came out muffled. Jalice wriggled one of her arms free and shot her elbow back. She heard Annilasia grunt, but the tillishu’s grip didn’t loosen and Jalice’s arm was quickly pinned back down.

Her muscles went numb. She crumpled in defeat as hot tears fell down her face and her nostrils flared. She should’ve listened to the sky’s message. Change—it had been trying to warn her of this betrayal somehow. She should’ve known something was wrong as soon as Annilasia appeared. The wretched woman had left Jalice’s life years ago. Her sudden reappearance had been a sign of trouble, not safety.

“Annilasia, what are you doing?” asked Delilee. Although Jalice couldn’t see her, the volume in the decoy’s voice revealed she now stood above Jalice.

Annilasia didn’t reply. She shifted her weight atop Jalice and removed her hand from the chieftess’s mouth. For a split moment, Jalice was unsure of what was occurring, yet instincts kicked in. She cried out. The sound scratched against her throat, hardly taking to the air. Panic seized her. She tried again, but produced the same weak result, no doubt due to Annilasia jabbing her spine.

“Get off me,” Jalice wheezed. “I’m the Tecalica. I’ll have you burned for this treason.”

A cloth fell past her eyes and settled against her lips. Jalice twisted her head frantically to avoid the gag, but a quick yank from behind tightened the cloth across her mouth.

Jalice winced as Annilasia fastened the knot for the gag, which pulled at the edges of her mouth. Annilasia showed the same cruelty when she wrapped a rope around Jalice’s hands. Brittle strands dug into her wrists while she prayed silently to Sahruum for rescue. With Jalice restrained, Annilasia crawled off her and stood.

Jalice breathed with relief from the release of pressure, but this was short-lived. A heavy boot sank onto her back, a reminder that she wasn’t free. She began to cry again, no longer able to contain the hysteria that had been threatening to overtake her. With heaving convulsions, she sobbed through the gag.

“Annilasia, we can’t do it like this,” Delilee whispered frantically. “How will we get her out without getting caught? The plan only works if she goes with you willingly.”

The plan,” Annilasia mocked flatly. “The plan is to make a change. Stick to your part. This is a setback, but one that I expected.” There was a pause, and then Annilasia spoke again. Only this time, her words held an unusual hint of concern. “Delilee, your face . . .”

“It hurts,” moaned Delilee. “My skin burns like claws are ripping at it.”

“Quiet,” Annilasia snapped. “She’s listening. Draw your hood up. We need to go.”

“You’ll never make it past the wall,” said Delilee. “I don’t even think we’ll make it past the obelisk.”

“You leave that to me. Go ahead of us and make sure there are no surprises waiting outside. There shouldn’t be anyone at the door now. I’ll bring her down.”

Fear swept over Jalice. They’re kidnapping me. A set of hands grabbed at her, and she was hauled to her feet.

For a moment, her vision glazed over as she regained balance. When she lifted her gaze, she found herself face-to-face with Annilasia. Jalice whimpered and pushed back. She trembled as Annilasia seized her shoulder.

“Don’t try anything foolish,” said Annilasia. She pulled out a knife and, with a forceful grip, rotated the Tecalica to face the stairwell before prodding the blade into her back.

Jalice searched for Delilee, but her cousin was nowhere in sight. The two bodies littering the floor ahead stole her attention. The pools of blood had grown, now soaking into the corners of the rug.

Annilasia barked at her to move, and Jalice stumbled forward. She tore her eyes off the bodies to focus on the open passageway, but she couldn’t erase the image. The dead men seared her mind, two striking abnormalities tainting the familiar hall. Her trembling intensified with each step that brought her closer to them. She slowed her pace despite the urge to dash through the opening and escape the scene. The last thing she wanted was to trip and fall on top of the bodies. Nausea swam inside her. She risked a glance down to verify the first step.

Dizziness overtook her at the sight of blood beneath her shoe. She’d stepped in the blood saturating the rug. Her eyes snapped shut and she blindly confirmed the first step with her oes. When she found it, she leapt forward. Upon prying her eyes open, she sighed in relief to find she’d made it past the bodies.

Tears—of remorse for the men as well as disgust at their blood—welled in her eyes. Annilasia’s voice jolted her, and the threat of her knife drove Jalice out of her thoughts and down the staircase.

Like the obelisk outside, intricate carvings were etched deep in the timber walls that wrapped around the stairs. An unbroken sequence of images, the carvings recounted various tribal events and spiritual stories. As Jalice passed them, the wooden faces of beasts and ancestral tribespeople made no move to save her from her plight.

Descending the stairs proved difficult between the minimal balance her restraints allowed and the tears blurring her vision. A few times, Jalice lost her footing, provoking a string of curses from Annilasia. With each step, the shame of the night built inside her. She cringed as her soft boots stained the wood with blood. A string of prayers formed in her head. She hoped at least one might convince Sahruum to prevent further bloodshed within her tower sanctuary.

The last stair opened onto a simple entrance room. Jalice startled at its darkness. The lanterns that hung from the walls were unlit, and a strain of moonlight cast the room in eerie shadows that made the stunning wall carvings seem to lunge out at her. A variety of animal furs hung from the walls like elaborate curtains, embellishments she’d seen every day but that now made her feel entrapped. Aside from these decorations, the room lacked furnishing, in part due to its limited dimensions. Two large doors stood paces from the stairs’ end—the only way out of the tower. Jalice followed the source of the light to one of the doors, which stood ajar with a hooded figure standing in its frame.

Delilee turned at their approach. “It looks clear. No one has noticed the hirishu for this tower are missing.”

Jalice blanched at Delilee’s words, and the knife in her back sharpened. Like the guards outside her bedchamber, Annilasia had slain the hirishu. An impossible feat by the hands of one warrior—yet somehow Annilasia had managed it.

Jalice blinked against her tears, fighting the urge to choke against the gag. She needed to escape somehow. She needed the freedom to scream. More prayers spawned from her frantic thoughts. Sahruum, send the Sachem to me.

A sudden recollection eradicated the desperate plea. The Sachem had departed weeks earlier and wouldn’t arrive in the Fortress until late in the night. Hope ebbed out even as her prayers became more fervent. Sahruum, please send someone, anyone.

Delilee took the lead while Annilasia guided Jalice past the wooden doors into the night. Jalice shivered in the brisk air and craned her neck to beseech the stars, but there was nothing new there.

Darkness swallowed the buildings around them. The Temple loomed above her, its other tower just beyond it. Scattered torches marked the gravel pathways and dotted the Temple grounds. Jalice squinted at the rigid silhouettes stationed closer to the Temple—the other hirishu.

Before Jalice could even think to signal the guards, Annilasia leaned into her.

“If you do anything to alert them,” she whispered into Jalice’s ear, “you’ll be cursing them to the fate of my blade.”

Jalice recalled the bodies in the tower and the pair of hirishu Annilasia had already eliminated. Her mind screamed at her to run. If Annilasia could kill these men, surely she was capable of killing Jalice too. Yet the thought seemed outlandish despite the morbid context of the night’s events. Jalice had grown up with this woman. They had been friends.

But that was long ago. She isn’t the same anymore. The knife at Jalice’s back, prying through layers of clothes to prick her skin, reminded her of that fact. A cold worse than the night’s chill ran through her.

Annilasia was capable of anything now, and it was this fear that kept Jalice quiet.

The women left the Temple’s holy grounds and passed by the ancient obelisk before slipping between the multistoried houses. The chilled breeze bit at their skin, and vapor clouds formed with their every exhale. Like bleak shadows let loose in the night, they slunk about in the darkness.

Jalice’s attention alternated between scanning her surroundings for an unlikely rescuer and maintaining the brisk pace of the others. She was dismayed that, aside from a handful of warriors who kept their distance, the pathways were empty. It’d be several hours before the sun graced the horizon. No one was awake to help her. No one was coming. A numb complacency threatened to choke out her already dissipating hope.

They were halfway to the wall when a voice from behind shouted at them to halt. Hope returned in a powerful surge, but even as it did, Annilasia dug the knife into her back.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the tillishu growled. She flipped the hood of Jalice’s capote over the chieftess’s head and tugged it down. “Turn around and keep quiet.”

Jalice moved with care so as not to trip into the tillishu’s blade, and turned in step with Annilasia towards the voice. Her limited vision revealed at least three sets of legs clad in leather boots that halted several strides from the women. She lifted her head slightly to try and get a better look. Dying stars, they’d recognize me if they had a torch.

“What are you three doing out so late?” asked a rough masculine voice—the same voice that had shouted at them. Jalice assumed them to be warriors, as it was unlikely mere tribespeople were traversing the night.

To Jalice’s bewilderment, Delilee stepped forward and lowered her hood with a confident elegance.

“I am Tecalica Jalice,” Delilee proclaimed. “These two are escorting me to the wall.”

The warriors, clearly startled to have run into the chieftess, let loose gasps and brisk chants of acknowledgment.

Jalice stiffened, incredulous that the warriors could mistake Delilee for the Tecalica. She attempted to lift her head. All they needed was to glimpse her face. Then they’d realize their mistake. She froze when Annilasia growled in her ear.

“I will kill all of them,” whispered Annilasia, “including you.”

Oblivious to the terse exchange, the warriors continued to address Delilee.

“Tecalica, what are you doing outside the tower?” one warrior asked.

“The Sachem is arriving soon,” said Delilee. “I wish to greet him at the gate.”

There was a pause. Jalice’s mind filled with desperate pleas. Sahruum, make them see what’s going on.

“Forgive me, Tecalica, but it’s not safe for you this late at night, even inside the wall.”

“I have a tillishu with me,” said Delilee, gesturing behind her at Annilasia.

Jalice’s ears twitched. Delilee’s voice—there was something different about it. The change was so subtle that Jalice hadn’t noticed it before. The voice sounded strangely familiar yet out of place, like it didn’t quite belong to her cousin. Almost as if she were sick, and yet that wasn’t quite right either.

Annilasia spoke up, her voice bellowing in Jalice’s ear as she addressed the warriors. “Annilasia, tillishu of the Sachem’s warriors. I’ve been personally assigned to the Tecalica’s safety at the gate. No harm will befall her.”

Anxiety twisted inside Jalice, confounded as she was by the warriors’ ignorance.

“Who is the other?” the lead warrior asked.

Yes, ask about me.

“She is my decoy,” answered Delilee. “It is customary for her to travel with me wherever I go.”

Jalice’s breath caught. She’s my decoy! I’m the Tecalica!

“Of course; forgive me,” said the lead warrior, tone dipping into embarrassment at the oversight. “Would you wish for us to accompany you to the gate? An extra set of blades might be—”

“No,” stated Delilee, cutting the man off. A tense pause followed before she continued in a gentler tone. “That is, it would be unecessary, and an insult to the tillishu’s capabilities.”

Desperation itched beneath Jalice’s skin. All she had to do was look up and step forward. They’d see her distress and arrest these wretched women. Yet fear choked out this resolve—fear that Annilasia would simply cut them down before she could hardly flinch.

“Your command is for the best of the tribes,” the warrior replied.

Jalice noted the man’s tone of wariness at Delilee’s refusal yet watched in dismay as the troop departed. Their boots scuffed roughly against the gravel.

She couldn’t let them leave. They were her only chance to escape.

Jalice jerked her head up, but her eyes found the backs of her potential saviors. The instinct to rush after them raced through her. Annilasia wouldn’t be fast enough to slay them and keep Jalice secure. She rode the surge of courage and screamed against the gag, but it was already too late. Annilasia’s hand flew to staunch her already muffled cry as she twisted Jalice around.

“I said not to do anything stupid,” said Annilasia. “Follow Delilee, and don’t try that again. Or you’re going to find out what I can do with an uncooperative prisoner.”

Jalice ignored Annilasia’s threat and glanced over her shoulder. It risked the wrath of another sharp pang from Annilasia’s blade, but she didn’t care. She spotted the last of the warriors turning a corner, seconds away from disappearing.

Jalice let out another muffled scream, but Annilasia silenced her with a shove. The chieftess tripped over her own feet, and because her hands were bound, her face struck the harsh gravel. A stinging discomfort burst over grazed skin on her knees and cheek.

Despair overwhelmed her. She had lost her chance—perhaps her only chance—of avoiding whatever Annilasia had in store for her. Dizziness swirled through her head, and a coiled knot wrenched at her stomach. She hurled the bile burning in her throat. Sputtering against the gag as filth dribbled down her cheeks and neck, she wept. The odor and taste, assaulting her senses, threatened another reactive vomit.

The gong of a bell boomed against the quiet night. Annilasia and Delilee turned on their heels. The sound repeated in a stream of endless thunder as shouts and the roar of tamer beasts joined the growing ruckus.

The Temple bells. Someone had found the dead bodies. Hope swept through Jalice like a river, drowning out the despair. Someone knew she was missing. They were coming to rescue her.

Jalice screamed against the bile-stained gag, refusing to stop when Annilasia grabbed her. She screamed louder, fighting against her captor. Yet it was Delilee who silenced her. Jalice grew still as she beheld her cousin. Perhaps it was the shadows and the moonlight, or perhaps it was the chaos erupting around them and twisting Jalice’s mind, but the woman looking back at her did not look like Delilee.

Delilee’s gaze crossed to Annilasia, and Jalice craned her neck to glimpse the tillishu’s face, wondering if Annilasia held the same confused look she must have had. Instead, Annilasia gave a knowing look that further puzzled Jalice.

Without warning, Delilee turned and sprinted away in the direction of the Temple. Jalice watched in shock as her decoy disappeared into the night.

Where is she going? It seemed unlikely that Delilee intended to turn herself in. Annilasia tugged at her capote, but Jalice pulled back from the woman’s grasp.

Her questions were answered with a splitting shriek from the direction in which Delilee had headed. No longer afraid of the knife, Jalice kicked and flailed her limbs as Annilasia dragged her in the direction of the Fortress wall. Couldn’t Annilasia see that it was over? Delilee had turned back and was surely caught. The tribal warriors would be upon them in moments, and Annilasia would be charged with treason.

“No, Jalice,” grunted Annilasia as if reading her thoughts. “We’re not going back.” With a powerful heave, she twisted Jalice around and shot a hand across her face.

Stars flashed in Jalice’s vision. The world spun violently without mercy as pain burned across her cheek. The vivid details of her circumstances faded, now distant as if happening to someone else. The noises—bells clanging, men shouting, beasts howling—blared around her, but they sank in her ears like sounds underwater.

I should’ve never left my chamber. With only a vague awareness of the mayhem unraveling around her, Jalice staggered down the path after Annilasia. Her fervor to resist vanished as she realized the kidnap attempt had succeeded.


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