Chains and Broken Magic
Copyright© 2026 by Rachael Jane
Chapter 14: Escape
I know something is different the moment Mara enters my room. She knocks softly ... she always does ... but today her eyes are different. Wide. Bright. Afraid. Determined. She sets the tray down, checks the water bucket, straightens the blanket. Routine motions. But her hands tremble.
“Aelwyn,” she whispers, “I have news.”
My heart stutters. “Lyralyn?”
“She’s safe,” Mara says quickly. “But she’s ... she’s done something.”
I stand straighter. “What?”
Mara glances at the door, then steps closer. “She’s made a way for you to escape.”
The world tilts. Escape. The word feels unreal. Dangerous. Impossible.
“How?” I ask.
Mara reaches into her sleeve and pulls out a small cloth bundle. “With this.”
I open it carefully. Inside is a fine silver powder. It shimmers faintly, like crushed moonlight. Frostleaf. I know its purpose.
“Lyralyn made it,” Mara says. “She said it will mesmerise anyone who inhales it for ten minutes.”
My throat tightens. “She risked everything.”
“She did,” Mara whispers. “For you.”
I close the bundle with shaking hands. “And what about you?”
Mara hesitates. “I’m coming with you ... if you will let me.”
I blink. “Mara...”
“I’m not safe here any more,” she says. “The dwarves ... their hatred of humans is growing. I saw it myself. I can’t stay. And I won’t leave you to escape alone. I know the tunnels and the traps.”
I study her face. She is afraid. But she is resolute.
“Then we do this together,” I say.
She nods.
“Tomorrow,” she whispers. “During your exercise in the arena.”
The next day, the guards come for me. Two of them ... always two ... escort me through the narrow corridors into the exercise arena. The air is cold. The runes glow faintly. My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure they can hear it.
Mara waits near the archway, pretending to check a crate of supplies. When she sees me, she gives the smallest nod. It begins. I walk the perimeter of the yard, as I always do. The guards follow, bored, inattentive. My challenger for today will arrive later, after I’ve been given a chance to warm up. Mara drifts closer, carrying a bucket.
When she passes behind the guards, she whispers, “Now.”
I turn sharply. The guards step toward me ... and Mara throws the powder.
A silver cloud bursts in the air, shimmering like frost. The guards inhale before they can react. Their eyes glaze. Their bodies sway.
Now we have ten minutes.
Mara grabs my wrist. “Come!”
We run.
Mara leads, swift and sure, weaving through the labyrinth of the fortress’s stone corridors. She knows every turn, every alcove, every shadow. I follow close behind, listening for shouts, footsteps, alarms.
No alarm yet.
We work our way through the fortress. We slip past storerooms, forges, sleeping quarters. The air grows warmer, then colder, then warmer again as we pass different sections of the hall.
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