Queen of the Spinners

He picked up the saddlebags Roanne had been packing. "You obviously will not be needing any of these things. I prefer to see you dressed in pretty gowns, so that is all you will be allowed from now on. I shall have a selection made for you that suits my tastes."

He turned away from her and began to leave. "By the way, all my reassurances are off if you do not tell where the books are first thing in the morning. In that case, you will be whipped until you wish you were dead. One way or the other, you will tell me." He blew a kiss at her, of all things, then turned and left.

Roanne tried to scream, but could not with her mouth full. She ran for the doors, only to be pulled up just short of them, her feet flying out from beneath her, landing her hard on her backside. Her anger took control, providing a focus for her thoughts. She would kill him, or escape. Something would come up to give her the chance. The books, they were still under the bed since she had not packed them. They might have a way to break the spell that held her. There was not time for that, though, it would take days to sort through the old tomes she had.

She moved slowly toward the door until she felt the tether grow taunt, then searched the air behind her until she felt the brush of a thin strand of tightly compacted air. It was easy for her to recognize it for what it was by comparing the feel to that around her throat. She pulled on it as hard as she could, hoping it would break, but knowing that was not likely. She had felt the crushing strength of the walls Calum had used to trap her.

Gathering the air leash as she went, she made her way back toward the bedroom, lighting the room with an almost negligent thought and gesture that brought the lamps to life. The dagger and sword were gone with her bags, but she had other things that were just as sharp, the scissors she used to trim the split ends from her hair, another dagger that was more ornamental, but still sharp. The strand of air might not break, but maybe it could be cut. It didn't work. In frustration she threw the dagger across the room.

Panic threatened to overwhelm her again, she could feel the tears coming, and she had the urge to curl up on the bed and simply cry. She concentrated on her anger, giving the tether a hard yank, then pulled again harder and longer.

It was hardly louder than a whisper, but in the silence of the night it caught the edge of her attention. Puzzled she looked around, then pulled again, and again heard the noise. Careful to gather the tether as she moved, she made her way over to the bed.

The bed, not the tether, was the weak link in Calum's trap. Following the feel of the tether, she found it was connected to the post right where the post was anchored to the foot of the bed. Roanne lay down, bracing her feet against the bed she pulled again, managing even more force with the help of her legs. The wood groaned as it resisted the force she applied to it. Again, and then again, she tried to pull. By the time she gave up, she was sweating from her efforts. Feeling around the base of the post, she tried to shift the tether up along the post, thinking it would be less sturdy more toward the center. Where it was, the baseboard provided added stability. Cursing the intricate design she herself had chosen, she found the tether was too tight to slide over the spindles decorating the surface of the wood. Her hands ached, and when she looked at them she noticed the thin strand had been cutting through the skin. She was bleeding enough to leave drops on the rug on the floor.

Roanne let go a hysterical laugh. "You're an idiot," she said to herself. "Almost every day you use magic so something like this won't happen to the staff, and you do it to yourself. Magic!"

Her head swung around to look at the lamps along the wall that she had lit so casually a moment ago, then turned back to the bedpost. It was so simple. She could burn the wood in the post. She concentrated a moment, wanting to be sure she controlled the spell, then made the appropriate gestures and rattled off the words in her mind. What she wanted was for the heat of the wood to rise slowly. She did not want to burn down the house after all. For a brief second she considered whether she did or not, but brushed that aside to concentrate on the spell. Suddenly, the base of the post exploded in flame. Roanne, who had been pulling to maintain the pressure on the tether, reeled backward releasing her grip on the tether in an effort to break her fall. The flame was racing along the tether now, and if she had been gripping it, her hands would have been seared as well as cut. She watched as the flame reached where she had placed the coil of air she had gathered, and blinked as flames spurted up, leaving the burned outline of a rope coil on the rug. The fire marched on along the length of the tether, and it dawned on Roanne it would reach her throat in next few seconds. Frantically, she extinguished the fire as easily as she had started it.

Roanne stared in wonderment at the charred remains of the bedpost, and coiled design burned into the rug. Seemingly out of nowhere, she recalled the basic lesson in the use of magic to make fire. Fire needed air to feed on. It would follow that if you compressed the air into a solid form, it might burn. Her hands went to the band, still tightly wrapped around her neck. She was going to have to be very careful around fires until she could rid herself of that.

A moment later she had her second awakening. She was free. Scrambling to the side of the bed, Roanne reached underneath, slid aside the loose boards and removed the books from their hiding place. She fetched a pillowcase to use as a satchel and packed the books inside. In her drawer were one last set of breeches, and a small man's shirt that would suffice as a riding blouse. Her dark cloak would help to hide her movements in the night. All she had to do was find her way to the stables, and she could still be well gone from here by the time the sun came up.

She headed for the door and stopped almost in mid step. To leave that way she would have to pass the rooms where Calum was no doubt sleeping by now, or tormenting Shiva and Talia. That was not a risk she cared to take, if she were caught, she had no doubt she would end up inside the little cage he had for her. Instead, she crossed to her bedroom window. Every kid had a secret way to slip in and out of his or her rooms, and she had been no exception.