Activity

Before I start, whatever the castle says to Qatar is heard/seen by everybody. The dream world was Quin’s thing.

Qatar

Quin stood in front of him, his eyes full of terror and confusion.

“I won’t do it,” he panted.

“Do what, Little Brother?”

“I don’t have a weapon.” His voice was small and weak, and pain flashed across his face.

What’s he talking about? Realization dawned suddenly, and Qatar stepped back. What are you doing? Whatever’s going on with you it can’t be that bad.

“Take it easy, Little Brother. Nobody’s trying to hurt you.”

Quin’s eyes were lit with fear, horror, and something like desperation.

The Castle’s challenge.

he felt suddenly sick. He wouldn’t really–

“Wait, wait…”

pain, hot and quick shot through his thigh, and Quin collapsed on the ground in front of him gasping for air. One shaking hand held a knife. A streak of blood appeared on the tunic Niarok had lent Qatar.

he stabbed me.

Rage, hot and uncontrollable welled up in his mind. “Little Brother.” he spit the words out as if he hated them. “You miserable little beast. I was willing to call it an accident. Willing to say it wasn’t your fault. But all along I knew it was. ”

He couldn’t see anything in the room anymore, except his brother’s hand clutching a knife. “I knew it was just because you were a little coward. Yellow-livered, running from danger like a dog with it’s tail tucked.” He was shouting. Quin started to shake, sobs ripping through his body.

“Do something about it.”

Qatar couldn’t tell if it was the voice of the castle or the voice of his mind. He didn’t care. He knelt down and picked up the knife. “I didn’t even know you carried this, little brother.”

Only a half brother.  It sounded like the castle’s voice.

He threw the knife away. “Knives are for rope and leather, not people.”

A spire  of rock suddenly appeared before him, shaped like a spear. “You’ve never checked your anger before. Let it go now.”

He clenched his fist. He was so close to Quin. All it would take was one flick of his arm. He didn’t move.

“You all have so many objections to pain and death.” the spear came closer. “I have none.”

Qatar looked down again. His hand trembled, just three inches from Quin’s cheek. One blow. That’s all it will take. He looked up at the giant spear, aimed for his heart, and back at Quin. Then we’d be even. The cut on his thigh burned.

little brother, where did you get that knife!

The spear drew back. “Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.”

Qatar drew his hand back, and the spear started to lower. He looked at Quin. His tiny, shrunken form was spread flat on the castle floor shaking with either fright or tears. Repugnance washed over him like a flood.

“Coward.”  He clenched his fist. He’d wanted to do it for ten months.

The spear lowered.

Qatar pushed himself to his feet and let his hand fall to his side.

“No.”

the spear hit him with the power of  a running horse, full in the chest. perfect shot. For a moment it only felt like he’d lost wind. Then the pain came. Dark, boiling. He could feel his knees trembling, then giving way. His head hit the stone floor with a sickening crack, and all around him he could feel hot, sticky blood. So this is what it feels like.

For a moment he felt terror, like he’d seen in Quin’s face. He reached out his hand, looking for some human contact. For someone. Anyone.

his fingres met Quin’s wrist and he squeezed as tight as his slipping strength could hold.

I love you, Little Brother.

Dark.