A. L. Kaplan

Tag: island prison

  • Freedom’s Landing

    Still propelled from his cliff leap, Ramone smacked face down onto a snowdrift only to look up into a maelstrom of flakes. Nothing but swirling white met his eyes. The sweat on his body froze into an icy sheen that fell in crackling shards as he moved. Ramone’s belly twisted. At least in that dreadful island prison he hadn’t frozen. Fifteen years, wasted, imprisoned for opening a portal into the wrong world. All he wanted was to go home.

    Beneath him the ground lurched, tossing Ramone into the air before dumping him back into the snow. Earthquakes and freezing cold. What hellish world had he landed in this time? He brushed away as many flakes as he could and trudged forward. There were no more spell components, but he’d come too far to give up now. Eyes down and half closed against the biting wind, he continued moving. It was all he could do. All he had left was hope.

    Something hard smacked his forehead, nearly knocking him over. Ramone looked up, his brow wrinkled in confusion. Behind him the storm raged, but in front, a bright open space. There was no rock, no wall, only an invisible barrier. He pushed against the smooth surface, moving along its length while his heart galloped. Step by step he broke trail through the snow drifts, stopping only when he reached a set of prints identical to his own. Tears streamed down his face, freezing as they fell. A rat, caught in a crystal cage.

  • Freedom Jump

    “Quae me domum ad locum regione viarum.”

    Ramone spoke the words of the spell as he ran, praying that the improvised components he had collected would work. Powdered rat liver just wasn’t the same as that from a hippogriff. Same went for the cockroach legs he had substituted for locust. But it was all he had.

    Vines tangled his feet, sending him crashing into the hard packed dirt and rock. He muttered curses as the spell slipped from his grasp. Ignoring the lancing pain in his knees, he scrambled to his feet and continued to run. Only once had he seen the outside of the island prison, fifteen years ago when they had shipped him here, but he had heard plenty of stories through the years about the snake infested jungle and deadly cliff that sandwiched the place.

    That same cliff loomed ahead. The other inmates called it the leap to freedom. Ramone had no more desire to die than he wished to rot in a dark stone cell. He wanted true freedom. It had taken years to dig a tunnel under the walls. Now his only hope lay in a handful of junk and a half remembered spell. Behind him the hounds closed in, close enough to hear their panting.

    Grasping the last of the components, Ramone repeated the spell.  This was his last chance.

    “Quae me domum ad locum regione viarum.”

    He leaped from the cliff’s edge just as the portal opened and disappeared into the void.