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Quin

“I’m fine,” Ruan answered. I doubt it. The Castle’s chilling voice interrupted. No, no. Not again.

Ruan jumped up and staggered away in the direction of his sword, but only made it part-way before collapsing. I didn’t think you were fine. Quin got stiffly to his feet. Didn’t even bother using my crutch. He picked it up and began hobbling toward Ruan.

“No, you don’t.” It was the Castle’s voice. Quin froze. “Look, I think your idea is hateful. I don’t know what or who you are, but you’re evil, whether you’re a being or a piece of rock. I don’t care what you do to me, I’m not going to hurt anyone, no matter who they are.”

Suddenly everything around him faded. The noise of the Castle’s voice boomed shut, like a great door; the people, the cave, everything became foggy. Quin looked nervously behind him.

The castle’s voice spoke again, closer this time, more like a whisper. “You. You have to be dealt with more carefully. What shall your consequence be?”

(author’s note: from now on, nothing the Castle says or does to Quin is audible/visible to others, but Quin’s reactions still are.) 

Quin could feel his heart thundering in his chest, catching in his throat. Panic. It was the way it always started. His hands started to tremble

“I could make you relive your mother’s death, your accident. But then, you do that every day, so you’re much too used to it…”

No. Whatever you’re going to say, don’t say it.  A knot tightened in Quin’s stomach. Qatar, where’s Qatar? Quin turned around, looking for him. Qatar still stood by the dying fire, watching the chaos around him. At least he was as clear as normal, not foggy like every one else. Quin breathed a sigh of release, then tensed suddenly. Too clear.  Qatar was too clear. No. No, no, no.

“No. He’s my brother. I won’t do it.”

“Oh, won’t you, now?”  A great hand all of rock reached down through the dream-world and clamped Quin around the chest, squeezing his bruised ribs so tightly he gasped.

The next second he stood in front of Qatar, his brother gazing at him with his dark, distant eyes.

Ten months ago those eyes were an open book. He could read everything in them, whether Qatar wanted him to or not. Now the book was shut, bound with an iron clasp.

“Do it.” the Castle’s voice whispered in his ear.

“No,” Quin hissed back.

The hand tightened on his ribs. Quin bit his tongue. I’m going to die for this. Everything he had said before to Ruan seemed like a child’s play. ‘I should have died instead of her.’ How often he’d thought it! The great hand tightened. “You’re just flesh and blood, little boy. Or should I say Little Brother? the only thing that can resist me is diamond. You couldn’t do anything.”

“I won’t do it.”

Suddenly a thread of suspicion appeared in Qatar’s dark eyes.

“Do what, Little Brother?”

“Do it.” The hand gripped tighter. Quin couldn’t breath. He heard a rib start to crack. “Death here isn’t like death in your world. You’re still here. With me. I can give you death and flashbacks.–only you’d never get out.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” it was almost a sob.

Qatar started to back away. “easy, Little Brother. Nobody’s trying to hurt you.”

Words caught in his throat and choked him. But they are.

“No problem,” hissed the voice. Quin glanced down. A knife was in his hand, long and sharp and dangerous.

“Do it. I’m losing patience.” The hand tightened on his chest, and the lump in his throat. “Okay,” he gasped. “I will.”

“Not good enough. Do it now.”

The knife flashed out. The next instant Quin was lying on the floor, gasping for breath. He was clutching a knife in one hand. The fog and the death-grip were gone, but Qatar was staring at him, his face dark with shock and anger.

I did it.

Quin squeezed his eyes shut.

“Little Brother!” Qatar spit the words out, and stumbled backward a few steps.

Tears pricked at the back of Quin’s eyes. He couldn’t look up to meet the hurt in his brother’s face.

 It’s just like everybody said. I’m a coward.