Gabriel forced the prison door open with his shoulder and then tumbled through to the other side with me on his heels. I stopped short however, finding my brother in front of me and barely alive.
He sat in a wooden chair, with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles bound to the legs of the chair. His head drooped forward and I couldn't tell if he was conscious or not. His shoulder length hair was blood-soaked and matted to his head. His body trembled in agonized weakness, his chest heaving unevenly with the effort to breath. His green-ink tattoos stood off his pallid skin in stark contrast, their intricate lines raised from his body as if God created his veins in the shapes of Avalon's choosing.
“Avalon?” I asked carefully, quietly. The sight of so much suffering made me ill.
He lifted his head so that I could just see one swollen, black and blue eye, dripping with blood and making his face nearly unrecognizable. His one shoulder still sagged, like it had the night he was taken from the farm and his clothes were soaked with dried blood.
The stench of the room was almost unbearable, but even worse was Avalon. He was broken and beaten and I could hardly bare to look at him, let alone believe that I let this happen to him for weeks and had done nothing tangible to help him.
I ran to him, kneeling at his feet, afraid to touch him. Carefully, I lifted my hands to his face, cradling his swollen head and matted hair gently, afraid that I would break him completely with the smallest of movements.
Tears flowed freely from my eyes, my spirit and will broken at the sight of him. How could anyone allow such cruelty? I knew that Lucan was evil; I watched how he had easily taken my grandfather's life.
But this was different. This was torture and suffering at a level I could not comprehend.
I thought of Sebastian, my own prisoner, how I felt guilty for not offering a change of clothes. Yet he was fed, accommodated and treated with respect. This was inhumane. Lucan truly was a monster.
My magic moved aggressively next to my brother, longing for him, longing to be divided again between us. But I couldn't even fathom attempting that inevitable failure with him in this state. First, I was determined to heal him. Then, I could conquer trying to give him his magic back.
“I knew you would come,” he whispered through ragged, broken breaths, but I hushed him, knowing I could fix at least the physical damage.
I sent the blue smoke out with purpose, wrapping Avalon in its wispy tufts and turning everything in the room to blue. I felt the healing magic work at his scarred appendages and wounded body. It wove its way around his legs, healing the skin on his ankles and then to his wrists that were raw, to his shoulder that was dislocated and to his back that was etched in scars from countless unanswered questions or small signs of rebellion. His face slowly began to reform into the shape I remembered, and the swelling, gradually began to decrease.
The smoke helped him sit up straighter, feel his muscles again, and find purpose again. I heard the sickening, crunching of bones and saw the inflamed areas of his face, squirt with abused liquid. He was coming to himself again in the gentlest way possible, but still the healing process was agonizing.
“So that's what it does,” he laughed in short bursts of strained whispers, finding the smoke amusing. Only, Avalon.
Gabriel ripped off the restraints from his wrists and then the shackles from his ankles with his magic and Avalon stood up a strong and determined man. His eyes remained tired, but I knew that was only because he didn't have his magic back. That would change as soon as I could get him out of here.
“We have to go, we have to leave now!” I whispered fiercely, pulling on his hand.
“Of course,” he agreed and Gabriel walked from the room first, surveying our escape route and nodding his head. We followed Gabriel, the hallways feeling empty. Something was wrong, I could feel it, but I didn't have time to analyze now. I had to get Avalon as far from the palace as I could, and my magic still wasn't under control. I pretended to be all right, but my magic buzzed uncomfortably underneath my skin and I was dizzy with the effort to keep it contained.
Gabriel was on his phone again, texting frantically the instructions to set the bombs off. From his confidence, I had to believe that the explosives were set and we were just waiting for the scattered teams to push ignite.
I grasped Avalon's hand, pulling him with me as we ran through the solitary hallways waiting for the inevitable fight. I couldn't help but feel the nagging sensation at the back of my neck that something was wrong, there should be Titans, there should be explosions. Everything felt like slow motion and my heart was pounding wildly against my chest in suspense.
We exited a hallway into another corridor, but it was at least one I remembered. We were not far from the doors, not far from exiting the palace, we were almost there. Gabriel slowed his run however, and I felt the room fill with magic that was not mine. Magic that I recognized, magic that I wanted so desperately to forget.
Kiran walked through the opposite side of the corridor, surrounded by Guards on every side. I expected a hundred different emotions to play out on his face, but relief was not one of them. He walked purposely towards me, stopping just short and smiling.
“You're Ok,” he whispered, making the moment surprisingly awkward.
“I'm fine,” I grunted, battle ready and wondering if I was physically able to absorb anymore magic today. My intuition told me I wasn't, but my urgency to leave this palace with my brother was bound and determined.
“Give me Avalon and you'll be able to escape,” Kiran insisted, taking a step forward and holding out his hand expectantly.
“No!” I replied adamantly, “There is no way in hell I would leave him here with you, I'm taking him with me!” I shoved Avalon forcefully behind me as if I were a shield of protection.