“Ah,” smiled the interrogator as he stepped alongside the table and stared at the young woman, “what do we have here? You are Rhoda of Raven’s Point, aren’t you? I remember seeing you there.”
“You have been to Raven’s Point?” asked the young woman. “I do not remember you.”
“I would not have been wearing my hood,” laughed the interrogator. “How could you possibly remember me?”
“That must be why I didn’t recognize you,” frowned Rhoda. “Perhaps if you remove the hood, I will remember you.”
“It is not me that I wish you to remember,” smiled the interrogator. “What I want is your knowledge of magic spells.”
“I am not a mage,” Rhoda said hesitantly.
“Do not lie to me,” shouted the interrogator.
Rhoda shook with fear at the change of the man’s tone. She was not convinced that the man was Khadoran, but she knew that her plan of playing ignorant would no longer work. This man would not be as easily frustrated as the officer had been.
“I only know one spell,” lied Rhoda. “I don’t consider that being a mage. There are mages at Raven’s Point. You must have me confused with someone else.”
The interrogator exhaled as one would when considering the words of an opponent. Rhoda felt a small sliver of hope that she could confuse the man.
“What is the one spell that you know?” asked the interrogator. “I will know by your answer if you are telling me the truth.”
Rhoda frantically thought about the spells she knew and which of them could possibly be witnessed by non-mages. Weaving an air tunnel was the only spell she could think of that an ordinary person would recognize as magic. She had used the spell in front of many ordinary clansmen. If this man had truly been to Raven’s Point, that is what he would be expecting her to say.
“There is a minor spell called an air tunnel,” Rhoda replied. “It is mostly a trick to amuse children.”
“It is a spell used for communications,” corrected the interrogator. “Do not take me for a fool. Explain to me how it works.”
“You would not understand it,” protested Rhoda. “Only a mage could understand the spell.”
“Yet you claim not to be a mage,” retorted the interrogator. “If you continue to lie to me, your punishment will be extremely cruel.”
Rhoda’s naked body shivered involuntarily in reaction to the interrogator’s threat. She knew that she had been stripped naked to make her feel more vulnerable. She used her powers of concentration to calm her body so that the interrogator would not notice her fear.
“The mages said that I had the capability of learning it,” replied Rhoda after she had calmed down. “That only meant that I had the talent within me. I must not have much talent if they only saw fit to teach me that one spell. Still, I would have to explain it to someone who at least has the capability to understand it. If you have no magical talent, you will not understand.”
The interrogator’s hand rose and pointed at Rhoda’s right leg. Flames leaped from his pointed finger and struck the leg. Rhoda screamed as the fire burned into her flesh. Her body twitched uncontrollably as the pain grew more intense. She felt as if her leg would burn completely off. Rhoda continued to scream until she passed out.
Rhoda was not sure how long she had been unconscious when she awoke. She could still feel the searing pain where the fire had burned her leg, but the pain was localized.
“So you are back among the living,” sneered the interrogator. “Did you enjoy my demonstration of magical ability?”
Rhoda said nothing. She concentrated on ignoring the pain in her leg.
“If not,” continued the interrogator, “I would be more than happy to demonstrate it again, and again, and again. The choice is yours. You can cooperate and live, or you can be burned one small area at a time until you do cooperate. Frankly, I hope you decide to be stubborn for at least a little while longer.”
“What do you want of me?” cried Rhoda. “I have done nothing to you. Why do you seek to hurt me so?”
“I want to know how you create an air tunnel,” declared the interrogator. “It is a simple request.”
“And if I tell you?” asked Rhoda. “What is in it for me? How do I know that you will not pleasure yourself with continued burnings of my flesh?”
The interrogator smiled broadly, although Rhoda could not see his face. He knew that his little demonstration had paid off where the officer had failed.
“If you cooperate,” answered the interrogator, “life will be simple for you. You will be free to live in peace on the island. If you do have any talents, we might even train you to be productive.”
“I won’t be allowed to return to Raven’s Point?” asked Rhoda.
“No,” the interrogator shook his head. “At least not while it is still Khadoran. Perhaps afterwards you will be allowed to return, after we have destroyed it.”
Rhoda felt a tear roll down her cheek. She had suspected that she would never see Raven’s Point again, but to hear the interrogator admit it brought a feeling of hopelessness to her.
“And you will truly teach me more magic?” Rhoda asked. “Would you really do that? Or are you just saying that to please me now?”
“If you have the ability,” answered the interrogator, “you will be taught. We have the finest teachers in the world here. Of course, it will depend on your abilities. I can promise no more than that.”
“I appreciate the honesty,” Rhoda tried to smile. “And all that I have to do is teach you how to create an air tunnel?”
“That is all,” nodded the interrogator. “Let’s begin now.”
“Alright,” Rhoda decided. “I have little choice anyways, and you will teach me magic. I always wanted to be a great mage.”
“Yes, yes,” sighed the interrogator, knowing that her low level abilities would never be worth nurturing. “Explain it to me now.”
“You have to create a vortex of wind,” explained Rhoda. “You do this by rotating your hands in a rapid fashion. Your hands must rotate around a perceived axis that extends from the perpendicular of an imaginary line connecting your two elbows. Then as the wind begins to circulate…”
“Wait,” commanded the interrogator. “Stop. Slow down so I can picture what you are saying.”
“I am sorry,” apologized Rhoda. “I guess I am just excited about the chance of learning new magic.”
The interrogator nodded and Rhoda repeated her statements again, only slower. She watched as the man tried positioning his hands properly.
“No, no, no,” Rhoda shook her head. “It has to be perpendicular. Your hands are off at an angle. Let me explain it again.”
“Be more detailed when you explain the positioning,” scowled the interrogator. “I want to get this right.”
“It would be much easier to show you,” sighed Rhoda. “That is how I learned. It really is a simple spell. You should not be having trouble with it.”
The interrogator stared at the naked woman as if weighing the risks of unstrapping her.
“Okay,” sighed Rhoda. “Let’s try this again. Put your arms out perpendicular to your body.”
“Stop,” ordered the interrogator. “I will unstrap you. Show me how the positioning is set. Do not take advantage of my leniency.”
“That will be easier,” nodded Rhoda. “As for taking advantage of anything, I am hardly in the position to run away. I do not even know where I am.”
“Trust me,” grinned the interrogator as he undid the straps holding her arms down, “you will not be running anywhere. Your legs will remain strapped to this table.
“That is fine,” replied Rhoda as she held her arms up and rubbed the areas that had been in contact with the straps. “You don’t realize how tight those straps are until they are released.”