Free Reckoning by Amy Miles

with his new self for the first time.  
     
    A small mirror, warped with age and dusty from disuse hangs on the wall.   The planes of his face are familiar, but more refined.   His blond hair hangs into his eyes and shaggy stubble lines his jaw.   A light tan seems etched into his new skin, accentuating his gaunt cheeks.   Deep bruises form crescent moons under dull ice-blue eyes, void of their usual iridescent quality.   He turns away, too weary to fully examine his new body.  
     
    Six feet separate him from the cot.   Much too far.   Gabriel slides his foot forward.   The muscles in his thighs quiver, sending spasms down to his toes.   His right leg twitches violently, tangling with the table leg and spilling him to the floor.  
     
    His cry brings instant response.   Hard-soled sandals slap against the rock floor of the hall beyond.   A fist pounds frantically on the door.    “Gabriel?   Are you ok?”   The fear edging the man’s voice surprises him.  
     
    Keys, fumbled from within folds of clothing, jingle.   Gruff protests slide under the door.   “You can’t go in there, Sias.”
     
    That name.   It sounds familiar, Gabriel frowns, digging through his hazy memories.   He does not have a chance to grasp it before the arguing continues.  
     
    “Step aside, Ordin.   This does not concern you.”
     
    “It’s suicide!”
     
    A slight hesitation.   “I am aware of the consequences.   Now please, return to your tasks.”
     
    The unseen companion sucks in a breath.   “And leave you alone with him?”   Gabriel glances up as the key clangs against the metal lock.   The door groans open.   A tall man stands silhouetted in the doorway, flickering candlelight veils his features.   A hulking figure hovers just over his shoulder.  
     
    “He will not harm me,” Sias replies, unbothered by Ordin’s concern.   His toe inches toward the threshold into Gabriel’s cage, his neck cranes for a better view into the dim room.   Surprise registers on his face as he is yanked back toward the shadow.
     
    Sias’ unruly beard trembles as he grinds his teeth.   Gabriel can smell his rising anger as he pulls out of Ordin’s grasp.   “I asked you to leave once.   I will not repeat myself again.”
     
    The shadow stiffens, rising to its full height.   With a grunt of disgust, the man retreats, his heavy footfalls rapidly receding.   Sias, pausing to wait for the door slam at the end of the corridor, crosses into the room.   “Are you ok?”
     
    Gabriel squints up at the stranger, fighting to angle his body away.    The man’s movements are slow, purposeful, as he steps into the room.   Gabriel’s anger at his captor wages war against the compassion seeping from the man.   Gentle eyes stare down at him.   Gabriel had not expected any compassion.
     
      The scent of the stranger’s blood penetrates Gabriel’s nose.   His face contorts.   “Don’t come any closer,” he howls, curling inward on the floor.    He buries his nose into his arm, praying for an escape from the acid thrashing in his gut.   The man’s spicy scent is everywhere, clinging to his damp skin and sweat-slicked hair.    
     
      “Dear God, you still haven’t eaten.”   Sias rushes forward, carelessly tossing his fate into Gabriel’s hands.   He snatches the blood packet from the floor and holds it out.   “You must drink this.”
     
    “No!” Gabriel cries, shoving the table between them.   “Stay back.”
     
    Sias easily dodges to side and drops next to him.   He shoves the bag of blood into Gabriel’s face.   “You must drink this.   It’s the only way to stop the pain.”
     
    Gabriel crescendos into a chorus of raspy weeping as he fights to still his lungs.   Tears trail down his cheeks.   The muscles along his neck cord as his stomach spasms.   His resistance is slipping.  
     
    Sias’ calloused hands grasp his shoulders, stilling Gabriel’s convulsion.   “I