voice carried to him over the smell of bacon frying. “Not to worry. I’ll keep a close eye on you to make sure you don’t die, but I doubt it will come to that.”
Time passed with agonizing slowness, while Will sweated and suffered. The pain was even worse than what he had felt after being bitten by the emerald viper. I’m going to kill him if I ever get free, thought Will.
Once dinner was finished, his grandfather sat down nearby and began eating. “Would you like some?” offered the old man. Then he laughed. “No, I suppose not.” He finished eating and then went about the chore of washing the dishes, all the while seeming as though he had not a care in the world.
Eventually, Will lost touch with the outside world. He was trapped in a prison of pain, without any hope of reprieve. In his mind’s eye, he could almost see the flame of his turyn, burning and straining against a cage of green light. A voice intruded on his awareness, “Imagine you’re squeezing a muscle, or maybe your fist. You have to tense it tightly, as though you’re trying to squeeze the life out of something.”
He couldn’t tense anything, since his body was paralyzed, which forced him to do what the old man asked purely in his imagination. Will visualized it in various ways, as a fist, or as though he was hugging something tightly, but nothing seemed to work. In the end, he imagined his grandfather’s neck and thought about choking the old man to death. That didn’t work either, which seemed like a real shame.
As the evening wore on, Will found his mind disassociating itself from his body, making the pain feel distant, almost unimportant. He began to think more clearly, and then, almost by accident, he happened upon the solution.
It was impossible to describe, but once he found it, he knew it was right. A secret place inside himself that pulsed and burned, producing the turyn that was causing him so much agony. Mentally, he caught hold of it and squeezed. Nothing happened at first, but gradually his pain began to fade, and a refreshing sensation of coolness washed over his body.
His breathing became easier, and he knew he had done it. Opening his eyes, the one part of his body still under his control, he glanced around to see if his grandfather had noticed. From the corner of his left eye, he spotted the old man still sitting in the chair across from him. Arrogan was sound asleep.
He wanted to shout with frustration, but the paralysis made it impossible. I did it, you ornery old geezer! Let me go! In his anger, his grip on the source slipped for a moment, but he hastily got it back under control.
The rest of the night was less painful, but it was a misery nonetheless. Will was tired and weary from the long hours of agony, and he quickly slipped into slumber, but after a half an hour or so the pain returned. He woke as the burning began, and he was forced to reassert his control over the source of his turyn. The cycle repeated itself throughout the night, until the sun began to peek through the windows.
When he woke the final time, the room was bright and he could smell eggs cooking. He had become so accustomed to paralysis that it was several moments before he discovered he could move.
Arrogan greeted him with a smile when he sat up. “Are you hungry?”
“For blood, you sadistic bastard!” Will growled. “How could you do that to me? I nearly died!”
“Not even close,” said his grandfather. “You should be proud. You learned in a day what some take months or years to manage. Of course, it was all due to my enlightened teaching methods, but still, you are due some of the credit.”
Will cast about, looking for the axe. Where did I leave it? The porch, it was on the porch. Feeling a new determination, he got to his feet to go retrieve it. His mentor didn’t even watch as he left the room, so intent was the old man on his cooking.
He returned a moment later, quietly, placing each foot slowly so as not to make any noise and alert his oppressor. With the axe held diagonally, close to his chest, he approached until he was only a few feet from the evil bastard who claimed to be his guardian, then he raised his weapon.
Arrogan was