Vikter & the Dark Spire

CHAPTER FOUR: ZAYNE

Panic seized Vikter and he bolted from the dining room, through the big chamber, and down the entrance hall to the doors he had come through the night before. He pushed at them and pulled and looked for a knob or a lock or a bar to open it, but it was no use. He was stuck in the Spire and there was no way out.

Dejected, he turned around and slumped against the big doors, sliding to the ground, tears welling in his eyes and his throat tightening with a sob. He felt sick. If there really was no way out of here, he would never see his family again. He had broken his promise to Jak. A tear rolled down his cheek and he let it fall into his lap. How could he have been so stupid?

BANG!

The door at the top of the grand staircase slammed and Vikter looked up to see a man striding slowly down it toward him, his boots thudding upon the marble steps. When the man reached the bottom of the stairs and started walking toward Vikter, the boy rose quickly to his fee, wiping away his tears. This was no mere prisoner.

He was a large man—tall and broad-shouldered. His hair was silver, but cut short. His strong jawline was only partially hidden by a braided beard of the same color. He wore dark armor and a heavy cloak of black fur that only accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. The man was a picture of strength, despite his obvious old age.

"Trying to escape already?" the big man boomed.

Vikter didn't say anything—couldn't say anything. Now that the man was only a few feet away from him, though, he noticed that the man was branded, too, marked with the same symbol on his forehead. So maybe he was a prisoner after all?

"You chose to come in here, didn't you?" the man asked again. "No one is to blame but you for your being here. There is no escaping this castle. There are only two ways out. Come along with me and I will show them to you and you can decide which suits you better."

The man grinned imperiously before turning back toward the dining room and motioning for Vikter to follow.

Vikter allowed the big man to usher him into the dining room again, intrigued by the man's words. If there was a way out, Vikter wanted to know about it. When he and the big man entered the dining hall, all the men stopped eating and stared at them.

"Good morning, my lads..." the big man said as he strode smugly into the room, grinning as all the men hurried to put down their utensils and dab their faces with a napkin. Vikter sat down next to Gunther who was looking even more surly than before.

The big man paced circled the table, eyeing the men uncomfortably. Nobody said a word.

"The Spire is the home you have chosen for yourselves." he said, as if he was reciting something from memory. "You came here willingly. You enjoy its bounties and pleasures. And lucky for you, you will never have to leave. Are there any who wish this was not so?"

Nervous energy filled the room as the men sitting at the table glanced up and down its length as if eager to see if anyone would speak up. Just as it seemed no one was going to say anything, a man seated at the opposite end of the table stood. Gunther muttered something under his breath and looked down, dejected. Other men, too, seemed offended by the man.

From what he could see of the man, Vikter could tell he was younger than Demetrius and Gunther, but he was skinny and constantly twitching and itching a pink rash that covered his body. The longer he stood, the more the men at the table shook their heads and said things like, "I can't believe it!" or "Think you're better than us, huh?" or "Are you crazy?" The big man simply shook his head as he walked around the table to the man.

"Are you certain?" he asked as he leaned in closer to the man's ear. Obviously disturbed, the skinny man shook and twitched and stammered out an answer, but the big man ignored him.