THE SON-IN-LAW WHO WOULDN'T BURN

"Hold still, son-in-law. I don't want to tie the rope the wrong way and make you suffer longer than you have to."

Garrick burst into laughter. His voice filled the room, making the guards holding Cole's arms jump.

Cole's feet dragged against the last few steps. The floor was wet and cold beneath his shoes. The cold also passed through his thin shirt. Above them, rain beat hard against the cliff. He could hear it hitting the roof all around the house.

"How kind of you," Cole said. His voice was calm, even though his knees were shaking. "Do I get to choose how you tie the knot?"

"No." Garrick smiled and raised his hands. The six silver rings on his fingers shone in the light of the lanterns. Cole knew there were six because he had counted them many times over the past three years while cleaning Garrick's boots. "But you can choose your last words. Go on. Make us laugh. You're good at making jokes when you're scared."

"Then I'll keep them to myself. I don't want to waste a good joke on you."

Someone in the crowd laughed.

It was Brent, Garrick's nephew. He stood beside a pillar with a cup of wine in his hand, watching as if he were at a wedding.

"Make sure you tie him well, Uncle. He likes to move around."

"He won't be going anywhere," Garrick replied. "Will you, boy? Where do you think you can run to?"

The room was full of Vance family members. They stood in rows, wearing grey clothes and clean, shiny shoes. Everyone was looking at Cole and the altar.

Nobody looked sad.

A little girl near the front was eating a sweet plum.

On the other side of the room, Elder Morrow cleared his throat and opened a scroll. The people stopped talking.

"The Vance family thanks the vessel for his service," Morrow read. His voice was flat and cold. "Tonight, his worthless life will help nine elders rise to power. Let it be known that he gave his life freely."

"Freely," Cole repeated. "That's a new one."

"Keep quiet," one of the guards said, twisting his arm.

"You're hurting him."

The voice came from Cole's left.

It was Elise.

She had walked down the stairs beside him but hadn't said a word until now. She stepped closer, her black hair tied back. Her face was calm, giving nothing away. The red oath cord was wrapped around her hands, showing that she was also tied to what was about to happen.

The guard didn't let go of Cole.

"Those are my orders, miss."

"You're going to break his arm. Then he'll reach the altar with a broken arm instead of a whole one." Elise looked straight at him. "Is that what the elders told you to do?"

The guard slowly loosened his grip.

Cole took a deep breath.

"Did you eat?" Elise asked without looking at him.

Cole almost laughed. "I'm about to be burned alive, and that's what you want to ask me?"

"Did you eat the bread?"

"Half of it. I was saving the rest for..." He stopped for a moment. "I don't know. Maybe dessert."

"Idiot."

Her jaw tightened.

"Don't fight them. Whatever happens, please."

"Elise." Cole lowered his voice. "You don't have to watch this."

"Yes, I do."

She finally turned to look at him. For a moment, her calm face changed. Her eyes were red.

Then she looked away again.

"I promised I would. So keep your mouth shut and stay on your feet."

"How touching."

Garrick had walked closer. Cole could smell his strong perfume. It was the kind of smell that stayed in a room even after the person wearing it had left.

"Niece, you've been very good to your little servant-husband, haven't you?" Garrick said. "Three years of secretly giving him food. Did you think we didn't know?"

Elise kept her face straight.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't."

Garrick patted her shoulder. She moved slightly away from his hand.

"That's why you're the only person in this family who gets to stand beside him. The rest of us are here to enjoy the show."

A cane hit the stone floor twice.

Everyone went quiet again.

Silas Vance came down the last few steps slowly. He was seventy-nine years old, with a long white beard. He leaned on his cane as he walked.

His eyes moved from the altar to the guards, then to the ropes. Finally, he looked at Cole.

He stared at him for a long moment.

Cole could feel his eyes on him, but Silas soon looked away.

"Finish it," he said.

"With pleasure, Father."

Garrick took the rope from one of the guards.

"Lift his hands."

The guards pulled Cole's hands above his head. The rope rubbed against the old scar on his left wrist.

It was the servant mark the Vance family had burned into his skin during the week he married into their family.

Garrick wrapped the rope around his wrists once, then twice. He hummed quietly as he worked.

Cole watched his big fingers move.

Those were the same fingers that had thrown coins at his head many times, as if he were a dog waiting for food.

"You know what I'll miss?" Garrick asked quietly. He made sure only Cole could hear him. "You never begged. Not even once. Three years, and I never got to hear you beg. I wanted that so badly."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Cole replied.

"Oh, you haven't disappointed me." Garrick moved closer. "You'll beg tonight. Everyone does when the fire touches their skin."

"Then I hope you get a seat in the front row."

Garrick stopped smiling.

He pulled the rope hard, making the knot so tight that Cole's hands went numb.

"There," he said loudly, so everyone could hear him. "It's a family tradition. A family member must tie the final knot. Let nobody say the Vances send their vessel away without love."

The crowd laughed.

Some people even clapped their hands.

"Put him down," Garrick ordered.

Two guards lifted Cole and threw him onto the altar.

The cold stone hit his back and knocked the air out of his lungs. For a moment, he could only lie there and stare at the ceiling.

The ceiling was high and shaped like an arch. It was made of white salt, and the lanterns around the room shone against it.

Cole's heart was beating so fast that he wondered if everyone could hear it.

Then he felt something under his back.

A small crack.

It was very thin, like a line made with a sharp needle. It ran through the stone beneath him.

"Wait," one of the guards said. "Is it supposed to..."

The altar shook.

Small pieces of white dust began to fall from the ceiling. At first, only a little fell. Then more came down.

Elder Morrow looked up from his scroll.

"Silas... the floor."

"It's old salt," Garrick said. "It's nothing. Light the oil."

"Garrick."

Silas spoke in a low voice.

"Look at the stone."

The crack suddenly grew wider.

A loud sound came from beneath the altar, like a bone breaking.

Then the whole altar began to tilt.

Cole slid to one side. His hands were tied, so he couldn't hold on to anything. His head hit the edge of the altar, and bright spots flashed before his eyes.

Someone screamed.

The guards quickly moved away.

Brent dropped his cup. It hit the floor and broke. Red wine spilled across the white salt.

Then a hand grabbed Cole's wrist.

It was Elise.

She had thrown herself across the altar. She was on her knees, holding his tied wrist with both hands. The red cord around her hands was cutting into her skin, but she refused to let go.

Her face was now very close to his.

The calm look she had worn all evening was gone.

"I've got you," she said. "I've got you. Don't let go..."

"Elise, you'll fall too..."

"Shut up and hold on!"

The floor broke open beneath them.

Cole's legs slipped over the edge of the altar. Below him was a deep, dark hole. Cold air rushed up from it, carrying the smell of old stone and something even older.

Cole was hanging by one wrist.

Elise was the only person holding him.

"Niece."

Garrick's voice came from above them.

He was no longer laughing.

"Let go."

"No."

"Let go. That's an order."

"Go to hell!"

Elise's arms shook as she tried to keep holding him. Blood ran down her arms where the red cord had cut into her skin.

"Cole, look at me. Look at me. I've got..."

Before she could finish speaking, Garrick brought his boot down on her fingers.

Cole heard the sound of her fingers breaking.

Then he heard her scream.

Her hands opened, and she lost her grip.

For one short moment, her bloody fingers

touched Cole's wrist as she tried to hold him again.

But she couldn't reach him.

And then he fell.

Cole dropped into the darkness below.

Far above him, Elise screamed his name. Her voice grew weaker as he fell farther and farther away.