Free Tribute by Ellen Renner Page A

sends him flying sideways. He crashes to the floor but staggers up immediately. Blood trickles from a cut lip. He shakes his head to clear it and smiles at Otter. ‘Having fun?’
    I groan. The attitude, the anger – the sheer, stubborn determination not to give in. It’s all still there, stronger than ever. Aidan’s just upped the stakes. I’m going to have to stop this. But I can’t! My mind freezes. I don’t know what to do.
    Otter is watching Aidan. His calm control is back and he gives a short, chilly laugh and shakes his head. ‘You’re a little cracker, aren’t you? Tough boy, eh?’
    â€˜Tough enough.’ Aidan wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘I’ve been beaten up by better men than you. We know how to fight, our side of the Wall. You’re a coward, or you’d be dead before you’d work for these blood suckers.’
    â€˜You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Otter nods his head, as though he’s come to a decision. ‘But I wonder how tough you’ll be after a taste of this. I’ve got to know you a little bit now, Aidan of Gengst, so I had the prison guards bring me one of their favourite toys. Especially for today.’
    The Guardian walks out of my line of vision. My mouth is dry, my heart pounding. Then Otter reappears. He’s carrying a whip made of nine leather thongs with metal tips. The prison torturers call it ‘the Persuader’. Applied skilfully, the metal tips slice skin. Cut through flesh and tendon to bare white bone.
Oh gods! He can’t mean it!
    But the Guardian doesn’t approach the Maker. Instead he walks to the child, takes him by the arm and drags him forward. The boy makes no sound, but his face goes even whiter and his whole body shakes. My stomach twists inside out. I look from the boy to Aidan. The Maker’s cockiness has disappeared. There’s only shock and dawning horror in his blue eyes.
    â€˜Not you, Maker.’ Otter’s face is blank, empty. ‘We need you whole and in one piece to do your work. The boy. If you don’t pick up your tools and repair this clock – properly, no messing – I’ll flog the boy. There’s not much flesh on him. He might die, which would be unfortunate. We’d have to find another apprentice and do it all over again. So what say you now, Aidan of Gengst?’
    Aidan stares back, eyes dark with hatred. His chest is heaving, almost as though he’s sobbing. But he doesn’t speak. I can feel his horror as strongly as my own. And his desperation. ‘No.’ He shakes his head. ‘You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t!’
    Otter’s expression doesn’t change. His grip on the boy’s shoulder is the only thing keeping the child on his feet. ‘Are you willing to risk this boy’s life that you’re right? This city rests on the ashes of dead children, Maker. Your people have seen them die in their hundreds and thousands on your Wall. Do you think the Archmage will give this child a moment’s thought? You’re the only one who can save his life. Your choice, Maker. Does he live? Or will you watch him die, just so you can prove how tough you are?’
    Aidan’s mouth opens. His face is chalky. He’s gasping. ‘Bastard  … ’ he breathes. And then he closes his eyes and his whole body slumps.
    Thank the gods! He’s giving in!
    â€˜You win.’ Aidan has opened his eyes and the person looking out is years older. ‘I’ll do what you want. I’ll work. Let go of the kid, you  … ’
    Tears trickling unnoticed from his eyes, the Maker marches on the Guardian, who steps back. Aidan gently takes the boy by the shoulders. He squats down until their faces are level. ‘It’s all right, kid. You’re my apprentice now. Hey  …  come on, stop crying. He didn’t mean it.