by Dan Wingreen
"That picture says otherwise."
"It's not… I'm not… I just ran into him!"
"And you actually expect me to believe that?" Anwir asked calmly. That was the thing bothering Aidan the most—aside from the torture-and-death thing anyway. He was just so damn calm about it. Like this was just another day for him.
"It's the truth!" Aidan shouted.
"And what about this? Is this the truth as well?" Anwir picked up the crystal ball and placed it right in front of him. He placed his finger on the top of it and held it there until the ball flashed blue, then an image swirled into focus. It was small and grainy and slightly distorted from the curve of the ball, but Aidan had no trouble recognizing himself standing outside the DMS building. Anwir tapped the ball again and the image started to move.
The image-Aidan took a few steps, then stopped and jerked his head up, looking almost directly at real Aidan. All around him people were running every which way, trying to get away, but image-Aidan just stood there staring at something the ball didn't see. Aidan knew exactly what he was looking at and what was about to happen, but he couldn't tear his eyes away as Eallair gracefully landed just inside the ball's range and walked over to image-Aidan. The playback sped up as they silently talked, then argued, before Eallair clapped him on the shoulder. After that they walked off to Aidan's carriage and drove away.
Anwir tapped the ball again, freezing the recording. He swirled his finger above the ball and the playback reversed itself until he stopped it right as image-Aidan first noticed Eallair. He placed two fingers on the top of the ball and slowly drew them apart. The image got bigger until the whole ball was taken up with Aidan's face.
Aidan was shocked by his own expression. He looked almost…happy.
"I'm in the business of truth, Aidan," Anwir said. "And if I've learned anything in all my years in this business, it's that you can never trust what you hear. Words lie. People lie. But pictures?" He nodded his head towards the crystal ball. "Pictures never lie. You want to talk about the truth? That is the truth." He pointed at the picture of Aidan. "You're not scared of the man who flew out of a burning government building. You're not even upset. You're glad to see him. You know who he is, you had seen him before yesterday, and you're happy he's there."
Anwir tapped the ball again and the image disappeared with another flash. He placed the ball to the side, then interlaced his fingers and rested his hands calmly on the folder in front of him, seeming to take special care not to touch the table.
"Do you want to tell me again how you just ran into him?" Anwir's voice dripped with mocking sarcasm.
Aidan didn't say anything. He couldn't. He was torn between despair because there was no way he was getting out of this in one piece, and surprise at the expression he’d seen on his own face. Had he really been so happy to see Eallair? He couldn't remember feeling anything other than disappointment and annoyance. But, maybe, for one second when he first realized it was him, there might have been something else.
"No?" Anwir asked, cocking his head. "Well then, let me tell you the truth as I see it." He sat up straighter in his chair, never once taking his eyes off Aidan.
"You know the man who attacked this building yesterday. You're either comfortable enough with him, or you like him enough, to overlook his terrorist actions when they're happening right in front of you, or they don't bother you because you support them. You—"
"I'm not a terrorist," Aidan managed to squeeze out of his suddenly too tight throat. His vision swam. Why was he so tired?
Anwir raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You helped a terrorist flee the scene of his terrorism—"
"I didn't want—!"
"—you helped him assault two police officers—"
How does he know about that? "They were going to burn my hand and—"
"—and your WA director filed an official report detailing several treasonous statements you made at more than one of your meetings."
Aidan couldn't breathe; he felt like a phantom hand had just reached into his chest and squeezed all the air out of his lungs. Carl had reported him?
No," Aidan whispered.
No. No, he…wouldn't have. He's my friend…
"No?" Anwir asked.
Aidan swallowed heavily. "I-I didn't say anything… I'm not a traitor! I'm not a terrorist!"
Anwir's expression never changed as he looked down at the folder again. "So you never said, and I quote, 'these poor kids, they're never going to have the life they should have', or 'no one should be thrown aside like they are, I wish things could be better for them', or what about, 'I never thought a siphon could be an angry boy who misses his mother, or a girl who blushes and smiles at me'?"
Aidan blinked. Okay, yeah, those were his own words, but he didn't mean it like…he was just trying to…they were taken out of context and…it didn't mean he was a terrorist for Merlin's sake!
Except…a part of his last conversation with Eallair kept ringing in his mind.
"If you question the government, you're a terrorist. If you think things can be better than they are, you're a terrorist…"
"Yes! You're a terrorist because of all that!"
By Aidan's own definition, based on everything he'd ever believed, he was a terrorist.
I am such a fucking idiot.
There were probably worse places to have every illusion he'd ever held about life completely shattered than a government-run torture room, but if there were, Aidan couldn't think of them.
"Are those your words, Aidan?" Anwir asked.
Aidan nodded mutely.
"So, you admit you are, in fact, a terrorist?"
"No," Aidan said softly. It wasn't easy, casting off an entire life's worth of beliefs. But then, the right thing and the easy thing were rarely the same. Aidan almost laughed. That was one of his favorite Arthur quotes. He'd always taken comfort in it when he had his rare black moods over living the life of a wizard, and now here he was using it to justify defying a government he'd always thought was the embodiment of everything Arthur stood for.
"What was that?" Anwir asked. "I didn't hear you."
"I'm not," Aidan said. He drew on some deep reservoir of courage he'd never known he possessed and looked Anwir in the eye. "Wanting a better life for people doesn't make me a terrorist."
If he ever saw Eallair again, he owed him a huge apology.
Anwir let out a small sigh. "I can tell you're not going to be reasonable about this. I really did have high hopes for you, Aidan."
He closed the folder with an air of finality that made Aidan flinch.
"Here's what's going to happen now," he said. "I'm going to kill you. Slowly. And before you die, you're going to tell me everything you know about the man in the picture."
"But I don't know anything!" Aidan said.
Anwir smiled. It wasn't a pleasant smile, and it was made all the more unsettling because it was the first one that seemed real to Aidan. "I guess that's something we'll just have to find out."
He stood up and started to slowly walk around the table towards Aidan.
Aidan pushed himself out of the chair and tried to get away—not that he thought there was any place to run—but when he got to his feet he was hit with a wave of dizziness and exhaustion and it was all he could do to keep from falling over.
"Tired?" Anwir asked, the smile never wavering. "Avalon stone will do that."
"Wh-what?" Aidan asked, sudden, debilitating exhaustion slurring his words. He fought off another wave of dizziness as he backed away from the agent on limbs that felt like boulders. His back slammed into the wall. Not so good for escaping, but pretty useful for not collapsing into a heap on the floor.
"Avalon? The only place in the world where there isn't any magic? You had to have heard of it," Anwir mocked. He kept stalking slowly towards Aidan as he talked, backing off when he got to close and letting Aidan shuffle along the wall before moving forward again. His eyes gleamed with amusement.
He's having fun, Aidan t
hought in horror.
"The thing about Avalon is that it's not just that magic doesn't work there," Anwir said. He lifted his hand and dark blue energy crackled between his fingers. Aidan took another stumbling step back. "It actually drains your magic. Every blade of grass, every tree, every stone, even the rain temporarily sucks the magic out of anyone who touches it with bare skin. It's an effect that lasts even after you take something off the island. So, if you were thinking you could just use your wild magic to destroy this building and escape, you might want to reconsider telling me what I want to know."
Aidan stared at the stone floor in disbelief.
It took his magic away? How could that even be possible? He thought maybe Anwir was lying, but even as he thought it, he realized he couldn't feel the warm pressure in his chest that he'd lived with since he was a kid. He tentatively tried to call on his magic, ready to shove it back down in case he was wrong, but there was almost nothing there. Just a small, darkening ember where there used to be an inferno.
It was a good thing he wasn't planning on using his magic to get away. Even though it would have been a good idea. Well, as much as an idea that kills dozens of innocent people can be good anyway. It wasn't something he was willing to do, but he wondered how long he'd cling to that morality when the pain started.
Suddenly, the energy crackling between Anwir's fingers stopped and shot towards Aidan, hitting him in the shoulder. Aidan screamed. The pain was worse than anything he’d ever felt, like someone had torn open his skin and shoved broken glass into his veins. It quickly spread out from his shoulder, coursing through his body, cutting him up from the inside out.
Then it was gone.
The torture had only lasted for a few seconds, but it left Aidan seeing white as he collapsed on the ground against the wall. Even if he could have moved, he would have been too scared to try. His veins were scraped raw, and even thinking about making the smallest movement had him whimpering. Tears streamed down his face as his vision slowly cleared.
Anwir was standing over him, holding up both hands.
Another dark blue pulse of energy sprang to life in one hand. Then the other. Then two pulses, then four, and on and on until both his hands were covered in swirling, violent energy.
"Let’s get started,” Anwir said, a sliver of anticipation slipping into his voice as he taunted. "I promise this will be as painless as possible."
He slowly aimed his palms at Aidan.
Chapter 5
A sharp, screeching alarm pierced the air.
Anwir paused and the energy in his hands stilled, then winked out of existence.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. He looked at the door, then shook his head in disgust. Without even a backward glance he stalked over, pulled it open, and rushed out. Before it swung closed, Aidan could see red flashing lights and people rushing by, shouting to each other. Then the door closed, and everything was silent.
Aidan blinked away his tears.
He just…left?
He shook his head, trying to clear it, but it just made his vision blur slightly again. The pain in his body had faded when Anwir dropped the spell, but there was still a tiny dull ache in his shoulder where the dark lightning had hit him.
Don't think about it. He's gone, and he didn't…but he almost did—that's the opposite of not thinking about it!
He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus his scattered thoughts. Anwir was gone, and from the brief glimpse Aidan had gotten, there was something going on outside the interrogation room that had a lot of people panicking, so he probably wasn't going to be back quickly. That gave Aidan time to…what, exactly?
He had no idea, but he currently wasn't in the middle of being tortured to death, so he wasn't about to waste this chance. Even if he didn't know what to do with it.
He looked around the room for inspiration, but it was exactly the same as it was before. Except now he noticed the bloodstains. Like the one he was sitting on.
Gross.
Well, at least he finally had a goal.
After a moment of hesitation—broken glass tearing ripping shredding from the inside out don’t move don’t breathe anything to never feel that again—Aidan tried to get to his feet, but the second he moved, his head swam with dizziness again. This time though, it was a relief.
Moving didn’t hurt. Aidan could deal with being dizzy.
Slowly, he managed to get to his feet by bracing his back against the wall and pushing himself up with his legs.
Goal number one accomplished.
Maybe later he'd feel embarrassed about being so proud of standing up.
If he lived that long.
He shook his head, growling softly to himself in frustration. He wished he could just focus, but he was so damn tired. There had to be a way out of this. Talking his way out obviously wasn't going to work. Even if he told Anwir everything he knew about Eallair whenever the agent came back, he was still going to be killed. His eyes landed on his license, still on the table, and he had to fight the sudden urge to cry.
Revoked.
He tore his eyes away. He’d cried enough already. Right now, he needed to figure out how he was going to get out of this.
Escape was his only real option. That, or try to get Anwir to kill him without torturing him first. Aidan shuddered again as he remembered the almost aroused gleam in the agent’s eye as he moved in for the main event.
Yeah, that's probably not gonna happen. So…how in the ancient hells do I get out of here without using magic? Which, of course, has to be even more impossible now than it usually is.
He fought back another wave of exhaustion and looked around the room for the million and third time, trying to find anything he could use. There was nothing. Well, maybe if he could pick up the table or the stone chair he could smash through the door—
The door.
Had Anwir locked it behind him?
Sudden, wild hope sprang to life inside him as he stumbled over to the door as fast as he could. It seemed like he was getting more tired by the second. He didn't know what he was going to do if the door was unlocked and he walked out, since being able to move fast was kind of an important part of escapes, but he ignored everything except getting over to it. One goal at a time. Aidan let out a tiny yell of triumph as his hands closed around the knob; then he pulled.
Locked.
His yell turned into a scream of frustration, which then turned into another yawn. He wondered if it was the torture spell or the fact that he wasn't sitting down that made him so tired suddenly. Aidan scowled. He needed to get out of here before he passed out, or even worse, just collapsed under his own exhaustion and lay there looking at the damn door until Anwir came back.
What else could he do though? He forced himself to look around the room yet again, but no sudden inspiration struck him. His license was too soft to even attempt to use to force the door open, the table was too damn big and heavy to do anything with and the stone chair wasn't much lighter.
But what about the other chair?
It wasn't heavy enough to have a chance of breaking down the heavy metal door, but he could lift it and it was made of metal. Maybe…maybe he could hide next to the door and attack Anwir with it when he came back?
Because that's so realistic, right? Attack a fully trained DMS sorcerer with a folding chair? That just has "success" written all over it, even if you could stand up without feeling like you're gonna pass out.
Still…what else could he do?
Nothing.
He sighed, then shuffled his way over to the chair. By the time he made it back to the door and collapsed against the wall, he thought he was going to die.
Dragging…a chair…shouldn't be…this exhausting…
He decided he hated Avalon.
As he caught his breath, he tried to figure out how long Anwir had been gone. A few minutes? An hour? What was he dealing with? Would he be back soon? Would Aidan even be able to lift the chair?
He started as th
e doorknob began to turn.
Okay. Here we go…
He lifted the chair with shaky arms and waited. The door opened.
He swung as hard as he could.
"Bloody freaking hell!" Eallair shouted as he ducked the chair. It hit the door frame with a loud clang that vibrated up Aidan's arms. He lost his grip on it immediately, then collapsed off balance to the floor.
He stared up at Eallair. Only the absolute shock of seeing him standing there, scowling at Aidan with another new burn mark on his leather jacket, kept him from crying in sudden and almost painful relief. Or doing something even more embarrassing, like throwing himself at Eallair's ankles and hugging him.
"Please tell me you're okay," Eallair said. "Because I really wanna yell at you for almost taking my damn head off with a chair and I'd feel more’n a bit bad if you were dying while I did it."
A shaky laugh burst from Aidan's lips. He still couldn't believe Eallair was actually there and being so…Eallair. "I…" He swallowed heavily, but he couldn't seem to force any words out.
Eallair's scowl melted into a look of concern. "Shite. I didn't get here in time, did I?" He took a step into the room.
The stone!
"No!" Aidan yelled suddenly. It was pointless even trying to get to his feet, so he just held out the hand that he wasn't holding himself up with. "Stop! Don't come in!"
Eallair froze.
"It—" A wave of fatigue hit him, and his vision went blurry. "The floor…" he said, his voice weak.
Eallair frowned in confusion and looked at the floor. His eyes widened slightly. "Avalon stone?" He let out an impressed whistle. "I didn't think they'd have that all the way out here. No wonder you look like arse warmed over."
Aidan tried for a scowl, but then Eallair stepped into the room right on top of the stone and Aidan's jaw dropped in horror.
Eallair just grinned. "Only works against bare skin."
Oh. Right. Anwir had said that too, hadn't he?
It was a good thing Aidan was too exhausted to feel embarrassed.
"Why’re you here?" he slurred as Eallair squatted next to him. He had to have forgotten something. There was no way he came back just—