The Synod’s Prison

I.

Kite awoke with a jolt. She was disoriented and frightened. She had been sleeping in a seated position, but she had no idea where she was or how she had gotten there.

She could feel a low rumbling and a sensation of motion. She tried to look around without moving very much. She was in…a train car? She had to turn her head a little to see the window. Sure enough, the landscape was racing by.

She focused on slowing her heart rate and breathing. Why was she on a train? She had a headache, and her memories felt fragmented: she recalled pissing off the Synod (again) and hiding from the Browncloaks. She recalled a conversation with her brother, Jarren. She recalled something involving a tree, a doorway, and a jolt of magic. There had been a pool of dark, still water. Had she fallen in? Stepped in? Pushed someone else in?

Was the pool before or after the Synod? She couldn’t remember.

And she remembered absolutely nothing about boarding a train.

A few quick checks confirmed that she had her rings, staff, and blades. Slowly, she leaned into the aisle to get a view of the rest of the train car.

Just as she leaned over, a door at the end of the car opened. A man walked in and gave a start. “I—didn’t expect to see anyone here,” he said.

“Where,” said Kite, “is ‘here’?”

“The Arrival Car,” he said. He shifted oddly. “You should come with me.”

“Arrival from where? And to where?”

He made an uncertain motion with one hand. “It’s complicated.”

Kite looked the other direction. She didn’t see anyone else in this car, but the aisle went on a long way and seemed to get darker as it went. She looked back to the man and stood up. He jumped a little and then smiled nervously.

“Why did you jump?” she asked.

“Because you,” he said, “are dangerous.” He looked over her shoulder. She turned to see what was there, and just saw a dark, empty train car. The darkness was odd, because there was stunningly bright daylight out the windows, which were many.

“Why do you think that I’m dangerous?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you can tell, here.”

“Where is ‘here’?” she asked again.

“The train,” he said. “It’s an odd place.” She waited for elaboration. None came. “You are dangerous, though,” he said. “I’m right about that. Aren’t I?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But I don’t understand what’s going on, wherever we are.”

“That’s why you need to come with me,” he said.

That’s probably why I don’t need to come with you.

She turned and walked away from him, toward the darkness. He scrambled toward her. “You can’t go that way,” he said. “I need you to come this way.”

She ignored him.

“Stop! It’s not, um, safe.”

She turned back to look. He was keeping his distance, still, but closer than he had been. He was shifting from foot to foot. He had something silver in his hand that he was trying to keep hidden. She looked at it pointedly and then looked back at his face. He seemed to struggle with a decision and then lunged for her. She calmly dodged his lunge, which sent him sprawling to the ground. She considered for half a second, and then turned to run away. A few steps into the darkness, she found a ladder and climbed up.

“Wait,” he said. She did not wait.

At the top of the ladder she drew a knife and looked around. The new floor had no seats, just empty space and a few tables. Like the car below, it had a lot of windows. Unlike the car below, this car was brightly lit by the sunlight outside the windows.

Something felt disorienting about this car. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, though.

The man was at the bottom of the ladder. She drew a knife and crouched down to wait. He saw this, and hesitated. “What’s going on?” she said.

“It’s not safe here,” he said.

“I believe you,” she said.

“I can help.”

“That, I don’t believe.” She pointed at him with her knife. “Where are we?”

He hesitated, then answered. “It’s the Synod’s prison.”

What? “This train is the Synod’s prison?” That was ridiculous.

He shrugged. “Or something like that. Most here either knew they were being sentenced to prison, or else crossed the Synod in some way. Especially the ones who show up in the Arrival Car.”

She looked around. “But where are we? And how did we get here?”

“We have no idea,” he said. “Or at least, I don’t. Maybe the Scriveners do. Or the Arxitects.”

None of that meant anything to Kite.

“The train never stops moving,” he said. “I’ve been here for years. It just runs and runs.”

She looked around again, and felt dizzy. All at once she realized what was so disorienting about this car: the windows. Looking out the windows, this car seemed to be exactly the same height above the ground as the car below had been. She craned her neck to try to get a glimpse of the windows in the original car.

The man laughed knowingly. “Yeah. Rules are odd here. Nothing is what it seems.”

“Why do you want me to come with you?”

“Can I come up?” he asked.

She stood up. “Sure, come on,” she said. She kept her knife out, though. The man climbed up slowly. “What’s that?” she said, pointing at the silver apparatus he held.

“It’s nothing,” he said. He slipped it into a pocket. “My name is Hanton,” he said.

“Hanton,” she said, “I want to explore this train. And I don’t want to be bothered.” She looked around the car. “Or,” she added, “handcuffed.”

“Ain’t safe,” said Hanton. “Doors don’t go where they should. You can get lost. You can run into bad people.” He laughed without humor. “This is,” he said, “a prison. It can be unpleasant.” He emphasized this last word in an odd way, despite smiling.

I don’t like this man.

“Is it possible to leave the train?” she asked.

“There’s cars where you can jump off,” said Hanton. “But it’s moving too fast. You just jump off and die.”

“Do people try it?”

“All the time,” he said. “It gets messy.”

“What about escape? Like back to the, uh, normal world?”

“There’s that too,” said Hanton. “But it’s dangerous.”

“I’m kind of dangerous myself, as you pointed out.”

“True.” He considered for a moment. “The escape route, as far as we understand it, is in the Cellar.”

“The Cellar? Why is it called that?”

“Because it’s dark, and cold, and damp, and underground. It’s a Cellar.”

“But we’re on a train. How can there be an underground Cellar on a train?”

He shrugged. “There just is. Things don’t make sense here.” He looked around and fidgeted. “I’ll take you there, and let you see it. And leave, if you want.” They looked at each other. “We need to go back down the ladder.”

“You first,” she said. He went.

She sheathed her knife and turned away from the ladder. Good riddance. She opened a nearby door to begin exploring the train. In it she found a dimly lit room with one table, and a man sitting at the table facing the door, but with his head lowered. The man looked up.

It was Hanton. He smiled.

“I keep telling you the rules are different here,” he said.

She slammed the door. Her heart was beating fast again, and she concentrated on slowing it. The door she had slammed stayed closed.

I need to disentangle myself from this fellow, she thought. And I need to get back to my brother.

After a moment she went back to the ladder and began descending carefully.

When she was halfway down, he made his move. He was quicker than she expected, and stronger. He gripped her wrist hard and brought up the silver handcuff with his other hand. But she had expected it. She lifted her knee hard toward his chin, which he dodged. She reversed his grip on her wrist, grabbing the handcuff, and leaped off the ladder sideways. He cursed and reached for her again but the sideways leap confused his aim, and he grabbed at nothing. She snapped the handcuff around his wrist and cuffed him to the ladder.

He screamed.

Kite climbed back up the ladder.

She was shaken. How had she ended up in a speeding prison? What was it, really? Where was it?

She needed to get back to her brother, Jarron. She needed to get off this train.

She needed to find the Cellar.

She began to explore the train.

II.

At some point in her exploration, a little girl had started following Kite. Her name, Kite had found out, was Sadie-Belle, and she was poor and hungry. Other than that, Kite had not learned much. Sadie-Belle followed well but kept to the corners and shadows.

Kite approached a door. She checked her surroundings. Yes—this was the car she wanted. She opened the door and went in quickly.

She immediately collided with someone and apologized.

There was a large table with several people huddled around it. They immediately stopped their discussion and stared at her.

“Can I help you?” asked a man with slicked-back hair.

“Sorry,” said Kite. “I was just looking for the privy.”

“This isn’t it,” said a pale, dark-haired woman. Kite looked at her curiously. Why the rudeness?

“What are you doing in here?” asked the man with the slick hair.

“Leaving,” said Kite.

“This part of the train is off-limits,” said the pale woman.

The gathering continued to stare at Kite. A man with long hair leaned over and whispered something in the ear of a stocky fellow. The stocky man shook his head, but continued to stare at Kite. It was unsettling.

Discretion and curiosity warred for a moment, and discretion won. Kite turned to leave, but turned the wrong way and bumped into a second person, who cursed.

Curiosity got in a parting shot: as Kite grabbed the door handle, she turned her head and took a last glance. The long-haired man started, and hid something behind his back. The pale woman hissed, and the slick-haired man smiled and started towards Kite. Time to go.

She opened the door and sprinted away.

She finally stopped to rest in the waterfall car. (Why was there a waterfall in a train car? She had no idea.) She sat down. In a moment, Sadie-Belle sat down next to her.

“What did you take?” asked Sadie-Belle.

Kite handed her a piece of cheese. Sadie-Belle broke it and handed half back to Kite. “What else? I saw you snatch something from the people you bumped.”

Clever girl, thought Kite. She pulled out two coin purses. Sadie-Belle’s eyes lit up. “Here,” said Kite. “Take a few coin.”

“I can’t,” said Sadie-Belle. “Coin buys too much trouble, here.”

Maybe everywhere else, too, though Kite. With a pang she thought of Jarron. I’m coming, brother. Just hold on.

“You could use it to buy food,” said Kite.

“Food also buys trouble.”

Kite thought about this. “What if I buy food, and you show me who needs it?”

Sadie-Belle nodded once, and then scampered away.

Kite ate her cheese and then got up to go find food.

I’m coming, Jarron. Just got to find food, and then the Cellar.

III.

Some parts of the train were more rickety and wobbly than others. Kite had asked a couple people if it was because some parts of the train were newer or older than others, but they all just stared blankly at her as though they had no idea what she was talking about.

The Stone Cup Tavern was extremely rickety—it felt like it was about to fall apart. But it had fresh fruit for sale.

Kite went to the bar and asked for a bag of red apples. The bartender stared at her and then shrugged and quoted a price. Kite plunked a few coins on the bar.

She felt the crowd shift behind her. The bartender didn’t pick up the coins. “You know,” he said, “coins have been known to buy trouble here.” The train shuddered and belched.

“I thought they bought red apples here. Didn’t we just agree on a price?”

The bartender smiled. “How much coin,” he said, “do you have hidden in that pouch of yours?”

Kite felt someone crowding her from behind. She sighed.

She reached out as if to retrieve her coins. The bartender tried to grab her wrist, but she was ready for it and quicker than him. She palmed the coins and brushed one to the ground.

“Whoops,” she said with a nervous chuckle. The bartender was still scrabbling on the bar top for an arm that wasn’t there, and the men behind her were distracted by the clanking coin. Kite bent down and then came up fast with her staff. She jabbed one thug in the neck and cracked the other in the temple in one smooth motion. She continued her turn and put everything she had into a two handed swing that caught the bartender along the side of the face. He crumpled to the ground.

The train groaned and staggered and vibrated as Kite grabbed a bagful of red apples, threw a coin on the bar, and walked out of the tavern.

Nobody else touched her or spoke to her.

Her throat ached. I’m coming, Jarron.

I’m coming.

IV.

Sadie-Belle led Kite to a bleak slum called the Dearth. She scrabbled away with four apples, which she presumably gave away, and then came back for four more.

“Kite?” said a voice behind her.

Starteled, Kite looked around. “Lady Vanley?” she said, incredulous. If this were really the Synod’s prison, it shouldn’t be a shock to see someone you once knew. But nevertheless, shocking it was.

“It’s just ‘Vanley,’ here,” said Lady Vanley. “Guess the Synod caught up with you, too.”

“I guess they did,” said Kite. “Honestly, I don’t even remember what happened.”

“How is your brother?” said Vanley. “I was always fond of him.”

I have no idea. “He was well last I checked. I need to get back to him.”

Vanley looked at her oddly. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean?”

Vanley looked away. “It’s none of my business.”

They were silent for a few minutes. “Do you live here?” asked Kite. “In the Dearth?”

“No. I live…elsewhere. I visit the Dearth. To help.”

“Help with what?”

Vanley shrugged. “What I can. Food. Support.” She sighed. “I can’t do much.”

Kite thought she heard whimpering in the distance. Lady Vanley isn’t even a fighter, she thought. What can she do here?

“Are they all prisoners?” Kite asked. “Of the Synod?”

“No, I don’t think so. People are born here. Some live and die here, without ever knowing our world.”

“What’s the connection with the Synod? How did they find it? How do they access it?”

“I have no idea.”

They were silent again for a while.

“My brother and I,” said Kite, “are close. He needs me.”

Vanley looked at her. “I know that, child. It’s just…” she trailed off. “No matter. We are here, and he is there. Done is done.”

“There is a way back, I hear.”

“Yes. Through the Cellar. It’s dangerous, though. And the Synod awaits on the other side, even if you get through.”

“I have to try.”

Vanley shrugged. “We could use you here.”

“It’s hell here.”

“Yes.”

They sat in silence for a minute.

“You could come back with me,” said Kite.

“No.” Vanley laughed. “Thank you for the offer, but no. It’s too dangerous. I don’t have the skill for that journey. And I don’t have the stomach to face the Synod again. Besides,” said Vanley, “I’m needed here. I can help, even if just a little.”

Kite had no answer for that. Sadie-Belle appeared and retrieved some more apples, and promptly vanished again.

“I know it’s been hard on my brother these past years,” said Kite, “and I know I’ve made mistakes. But he needs me.”

“If you say so.”

Kite offered Vanley an apple. Vanley took it gratefully.

“Without me…”

“Without you,” said Vanley, “he might be able to make peace. To pursue compromise. To give ground and maybe fight in a different way.”

Kite felt a lump in her throat. “He could try that with me there, too,” she said. Her voice caught a little. But just a little. She swallowed.

I need to get back. Gods, Jarron, I’m coming.

Sadie-Belle reappeared. This time she crouched down on her heels. “Are you going to stay,” she said, “and help?”

Kite didn’t know how to answer right away, so she took a bite of apple.

Vanley gave a sad smile. “No, dear,” she said. “Kite is just passing through. She needs to go to the Cellar.”

Sadie-Belle looked at Kite with big eyes. “You seem—I thought maybe—the apples…”

“This is not her fight, dear.”

“It's so hard, here. So cruel.” The girl looked at Vanley. “And she is strong. I can feel it.”

Kite shifted uncomfortably. Vanley stood. “I know where the Cellar is,” she said.

Kite handed the bag of apples to Sadie-Belle.

“Let’s go,” she said. Jarron…

V.

Kite stood alone in front of the door that led to the Cellar.

It’s so hard here, the girl had said. And she’s strong. I can feel it.

Kite opened the door.

A hooded man stood there. “I am the guardian of the Cellar,” he said. “To enter, you must tell me something True.”

“The truth is, I need to get back,” said Kite. “I have unfinished business.”

The guardian cocked his head. “No,” he said. “That is not True.”

Kite sighed. “My brother needs me,” she said. “I need—“ her voice caught. “I need to help Jarron.”

“No,” said the guardian.

She is strong.

But she wasn’t strong. Not strong enough to face her past. Not strong enough to face her mistakes. Not strong enough to help her brother.

She felt her eyes start to water.

Kite took a deep breath. “My brother Jarron,” she said, “is at war with the Synod because of me.” She blinked. Her vision blurred. She is strong. “It is my fault and mine alone.” She was crying now. “And as hard as I’ve tried, I have been completely ineffectual in helping him.” I’m so sorry, Jarron. God I’m sorry. Her throat burned.

“That,” said the guardian, “is True.” He stepped aside.

It’s so hard here.

Kite hesitated. She wiped her eyes.

I’ll be back, Jarron. I swear it. I’ll be back and we will fight, or make peace, or leave. Whatever we must do, I will support you. I swear it on my rings, and my blades, and my name.

She turned around.

But first, I have a little girl to help.

She raised her head, straightened her back, and began to walk back toward the Dearth.