Disclaimer: Go read chapter 1. It'll keep applying.
When Ali woke up, she had a throbbing headache. She was in a dark wagon. At first she though she was alone, but then she heard Kashil's voice. "Ali? Are you awake?"
"Yes." She dragged herself upright. "My head hurts."
"I'm not surprised. that guard really whacked you one."
"What happened?"
"They dragged us into the Temple, and then a little while later, they brought us into this wagon. They're taking us to the Children's Cloister."
"I knew that." Ali's headache and her fear made her short with her friend. "And we'll be trained until we become novices or until they say we have witch-powers and then they'll burn us."
"Vkandis have mercy..."
"His priests got us into this," Ali said sullenly.
"Don't be blasphemous!" Kashil fretted. "Not with the Sunpriests so near!"
"I don't care! My head hurts and I want to go home!"
"I'm afraid that's out of the question," a harsh female voice told them.
Both children snapped their heads around as a ray of light shot into the dark interior of the wagon with the opening of the back curtain. The woman commander crawled inside. "This is for you, girl." She held out a cup to Ali.
She eyed it, and its holder, suspiciously. The woman wasn't as old as she'd first thought, in her mid to late twenties, with wisps of dark hair escaping from under her helmet and sharp, almost hawk-like features. She smiled at Ali. "It's for the headache I'm guessing you have."
Ali cautiously took the cup and drank. It tasted foul, but her head felt better almost instantly. "Thank you."
"I'm Ralca. Who are you?"
Ali hesitated, than said, "Ali. That's my friend Kashil."
Ralca opened her mouth, as if to say more, but a call from outside cut her off. "Ralca! What are you doing in there?"
"Giving the girl something for her head! I'm coming, Jarin!" With a last glance over her shoulder, she ducked under the curtain and back into the sunlight.
"She seems nice," Kashil began.
"She hit me over the head, she dragged me in here, she's helping bring us to the Children's Cloister, and you say she's nice?" Ali asked incredulously.
"I just meant—"
Ali sighed. "I'm sorry, Kashil. I'm just homesick, and I'm never going to see my family again."
Ralca hopped back onto her horse. "What was all that about?" Jarin asked.
"I just gave her something for her headache! I was responsible for it, so I felt I owed it to her," she snapped.
Jarin raised his hands to stave off her verbal attack. "Sorry! I just didn't want her thinking you'd help them escape or anything! That's always the first thought they have, you know."
"No, I don't know, and I don't want to."
"Ralca, Ralca, my love, lighten up!" Jarin smiled charmingly. "What's bothering you?"
"Nothing, Jarin. Really." Ralca knew the lie for what it was even as she spoke it. There was a lot bothering her, and none of it was going to be solved easily.
Ralca brought Ali and Kashil their dinner that night, and breakfast the next morning. Kashil asked how long they would be traveling like this, and Ralca told them that it was another five days' journey to the Cloister. "A lot can happen in five days," Ali told her friend when Ralca had left.
"Not to us," he replied sadly. "I want to go home, Ali. I miss my mother and my father and even all my annoying brothers and sisters."
Ali nodded. "Me too. I never knew I liked any of my sisters so much."
Ralca brought them food for the next four days. Both children were terrified at the thought of actually entering the Cloister on the morrow. The next morning, just after breakfast, Ali turned to Kashil and whispered, "Let's run away."
"Run away? How?"
She thought for a minute. "We break at noon today, right? Like we always do? And they let us out to relieve ourselves, and eat. We'll just run."
"Are you sure."
No, Ali thought. "Yes," she said.
They followed Ali's plan, waiting until the wagon stopped. Ali looked at Kashil. "Ready?"
"No. Let's go."
Ralca opened the wagon door, and they both bolted.
The warrior was thrown down as they banged the door open the rest of the way. They tore across the camp, leaving soldiers flailing behind. Some set up the alarm.
Ali dodged a big soldier's grasp but fell into another's. She kicked, bit, and scratched frantically, but to no avail. "Run, Kashil!" she told him.
The boy had made it out of the camp and was racing for the woods. An archer next to Ali and her captor lifted his bow and fired at Kashil's back. "No!" Ali cried, throwing out her hand.
The arrow appeared in her hand. Ali gasped. The man dropped her. "Heretic!" he shouted, reaching for his sword.
Ali threw the arrow at him, but her witch-powers reached him first. She Fetched his sword away, into her hand, and threw him to the ground with her mind. She got to her feet, trying to follow Kashil.
A Sunpriest, the only one riding with the party, ran up before her. "Back, witch!" he shouted. Ali felt a barrier fall across her mind, blocking her power. The priest struck her across the face. She fell back into the first soldier's arms.
The last thing she saw before he slammed his fist into her skull, rendering her unconscious, was Ralca, running towards them.
Ralca stared into the fire, resting her chin in her hands. Jarin walked up and sat next to her. "Worried about the boy that escaped? Don't worry, we'll find him."
"No, I'm worried about the girl who didn't. They're going to burn her, you know. They're going to kill her slowly."
"She's a heretic," Jarin pointed out. "What do you think they should do to her? I think you got a little attached to her. It's not like you to let something get in the way of a job, Ralca. Are you sure everything's fine?"
"No, it's not. They're going to kill her."
"Ralca, if you intervene, they'll kill you. Stop worrying about the little witch. It'll be the death of you, and I don't want you dead. Really, I don't. Do you know how hard it is for me to actually find a woman who likes me?"
"Yes, I do. Believe me, I do." Ralca grinned at him. "Lucky for you I'm crazy."
Ali felt awful when she woke up, even worse than when she'd awoken in the wagon with Kashil. Her head hurt, and she had bruises all over her body. They must have beaten her before locking her up in here...wherever "here" was.
She sat painfully up and looked around. She was in a small cell, with old straw in one corner and a grate in the solid wood door. Other than that, the damp stone was completely bare. Ali got to her feet and began to pace—there was nothing else to do. One, two, three, four, five and turn, one, two, three, four, five and turn, one, two, three...
The seconds became minutes, and the minutes became an entire candlemark before something finally happened. A hunk of stale bread and a shallow bowl of water were thrust through the grate. Ali ate the bread and drank the water, then curled up on the straw and cried herself to sleep. Her powers were still locked down, and she couldn't rescue herself, and no one was going to come for her.
She spent the next day in prison before they dragged her out. Ignoring her frantic questions, they took her to a Sunpriest and told her to confess. Ali didn't know what to say. "I didn't do anything," she protested.
A guard slapped her across the face. "Liar! You have powers, witch! You can confess that now and die with a clean conscience, or we can burn you now."
Tears came to Ali's eyes, and not just from the pain in her stinging cheek. "But I didn't do anything!" she wailed.
"Take her away," said the priest. "Burn her. Call the children at the Cloister to witness it, and call all the soldiers who guarded the wagon her friend escaped from."
Ali began to cry, and the guards took her back to her cell. Half a candlemark later, they came back for her and dragged her to the burning post. Crying hysterically, Ali tried to fight, tried to get away. The held her tighter and tied her to the post.
Ali heard a warcry screamed suddenly. She looked up, and through her tears, she saw Ralca. The woman had drawn her sword and was fighting her way to the burning post, kicking and slashing furiously. She sliced the ropes at Ali's side and shoved her away. "Go!" she shouted at her. "Get out of here!"
The people pressed her, grabbing at her arms. A priest slashed at Ralca and got in the way of her blade as she parried. He fell wounded to the ground, and Ali felt the wall in her mind disappear.
She Fetched herself.
She didn't know it could be done until she did it, but one instant she was pulling away from hands and the next she was away from the crowd, looking back at them. "Run!" she heard Ralca yell again, and then a cry of pain as a sword tore her side.
Ali turned to obey, and gasped as a white horse ran seemingly out of nowhere. A Hellhorse from Valdemar! her mind cried.
She tried to dodge around it, but it blocked her path. :Run away!: a voice said in her head. :Run, Ali!:
Ralca screamed as the sword sliced her side, then again as an arrow struck her hip. She saw Ali running away, saw the Hellhorse run up. she fell to her knees, blood flowing freely from her wounds. "Run, Ali," she murmured. "Ride away on your horse, and get away from here."
She brought her sword up to block an overhand strike at her head, dodged another, and landed face down on the ground, snapping the arrow shaft and driving the tip deeper into her body. Someone kicked her hard. Blows began to rain in from all sides as her sword fell from her nerveless grip.
"Run, Ali," she whispered again, and darkness took her.
The last thing she heard was the sound of harness bells.
No, the story isn't done yet! And not every chapter will end with someone getting knocked out, this was a coincidence. REVIEW.