Scorched Treachery by Rebecca Ethington

us. Ryland screamed until his cries turned to sobs, his sobs turning to whimpers, and then silence.
    Cail laughed, the grind of the metal as the cell door closed echoing around the rock. Then there was nothing. I didn’t move. I didn’t flinch. I kept my head rolled into my shoulder, my eyes staring at Talon’s sleeping form, silently begging him to wake up. I wasn’t sure if Talon waking up would take away my terror or add to it. I didn’t know what I would do if they beat him in front of me. I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep my mouth shut.
    I tried to focus on something good as I waited for Cail to leave, the prison silent with expectation. But he didn’t leave. I could hear his breathing as it picked up before the squeal of the door to my cell sounded, the door opening slowly.
    “What did they do to you?” he said. I almost didn’t recognize his voice.
    I couldn’t help it ; I looked up. Cail walked in, and I recoiled. I wanted to plead with him that I had said nothing, that I had remained silent, but I couldn’t let the words filter to my tongue.
    My brother looked at me, the hard line of his jaw gone, and his eyes soft. I saw the look of hope in his eyes that I had only seen a handful of times as a child. I glimpsed the look of the love and dedication that he had shown me as he raised me. He had given me the same look during the battle at the LaRue estate only a few months before. He had looked at me with sadness as he begged me to kill him. His hand had clenched over his heart, his voice howling as he gasped in pain when Edmund sent him a warning for whatever he had been about to do. I was as confused about his reaction then as I was now. My blood flared in curiosity, the sharp edge of fear cutting through my joints.
    “Does… does it hurt?” he asked as he kneeled in front of me.
    I couldn’t trust this. Brother or not, Cail only hurt those around him. Always. Every part of me recoiled as he kneeled in front of me, his hand moving up to touch the metal bands around my wrists. I gasped as I moved myself into the wall in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. My skin ached as I attempted to pull myself closer to the stone; my eyes wide and focused on the soft face of my brother who knelt right in front me. I felt the metal click as the shackles opened. My hands fell into my lap, my weak and pained shoulders unable to support them.
    “I’m sorry, Wynifred. Dad is mean sometimes.” I froze, my eyes wide as my breath caught, tears threatening. This was familiar, this voice and those words. This was the brother I had known as a child. He reached forward, my breath stalling in expectation of a hit. But nothing came; his soft hand reached out and rested against my cheek.
    I stared into his eyes, the pressure against my cheek soft and gentle, and waited for my breathing to regulate. I couldn’t seem to gain control of it. Everything screamed at me to attack him, to run. Deep down, I wondered if that would be what he would want. A reason to attack. But Cail wasn’t like that. He didn’t need a reason. He just liked to cause pain. I couldn’t trust this, I couldn’t. I cringed away, trying to ignore the burn of tears that would never come, letting the sharp knife of pain dig into me as I attempted to wish away this trick that he was playing on me.
    I felt my breathing calm and my heart rate slow. It took me a minute to figure out what was going on. Without my own magic to alert me to the change, I had missed the fact that Cail was calming me.
    “It’s okay, Wynifred,” he said, his voice only a whispered breath against my skin. “I’ll make all the bad go away.”
    I couldn’t breathe. I could not force myself to inhale. I was too shocked, too scared. I felt the pain in my shoulders lessen, the fire in my wrists leave. My brother smiled at me, his face twitching just a bit.
    I wanted to reach up to him, to comfort him, but before I could even move, his hand flew to the skin over his