Halfblood Journey

by Rheaume, Laura

  Finally getting the doorway clear, Scythe grabbed a debilitated handle and gave it a tremendous pull, noisily jerking open the heavy door of what turned out to be a small walk-in freezer. The smell of Human waste and illness was strong, but there was another odor beneath it, a familiar one that immobilized him for a few seconds. During that time, his mind made a belated connection: there was one other person he knew that could form ribbons of power.

  Even with his eyes giving him further evidence, he blinked twice in disbelief before he entered the tiny room and, picking up a toppled shelf and shifting a second, knelt beside Mercy, Ian’s daughter. Even before he touched her, he could feel the fever coming off her skin. Her head turned away from the first light she had seen in days, and her slightly sunken eyes screwed shut. Her face was gaunt, and there was a scabbed-over cut on her forehead surrounded by a large bruise.

  When she scratched out something with her dry throat, he leaned forward and said in Human, “What?”

  “Took y'.. lon’ ‘nuf,” she breathed in a voice deeper than the one he remembered from his youth.

  Holy crap. She’s making jokes. “Hold on, Mercy,” he said, checking her over for more serious wounds.

  How can she be alive? He asked himself, counting the days again. He quickly surveyed the compartment, which was completely picked clean except for a few old, empty boxes. There was no sign of anything to eat or drink. No food or water for four days?

  He carefully raised her into a sitting position, recognizing the signs of a lightweight protective vest beneath her jacket. He pulled a small gel pack from his chest pocket, ripped it open and lifted it to her mouth.

  “Here, suck on this.” When her face puckered up immediately, he said, “I know it’s sour; we’ll get you something else in a minute. Let some of it sit under your tongue. Good.” He pulled his water bag free from its clip. “Water?”

  “Hell, yeah,” she said weakly, her hand coming up to grasp it but missing entirely.

  I guess I can tell who she takes after, he thought. “Here, just a little,” he instructed, taking a moment to calm himself while she drank.

  It shook him up somewhere deep inside at finding, not just someone from a past he had left behind, but this particular someone who had been very special to him. He calculated rapidly the odds of randomly being in this region and available for this operation. They were next to zero. He shook his head. What are they up to now?

  Scythe pulled the water away before she took too much and told her, “Okay, that’s good. Time to go.”

  Picking up her disturbingly light body, he knocked open the door which had swung halfway closed behind him and worked his way through the outer room.

  “Okay, I’m bringing her out,” he said. “I didn’t find anything indicating a trap.”

  “Got it.” Anvil spoke to those around him, “Move in. Standard intel sweep, but for the nasties. Keep on your toes.”

  The ribbons floated lazily in the air and wrapped around Scythe’s arms when they brushed him. He knew from experience that, had she been more awake, she could have spoken to him through them like her father could. He wondered if she had developed other abilities in the years since he had seen her last, because she was clearly very powerful.

  He could sense through the ones on his arms that her mind was wavering on the edge of consciousness, which was why he started when she whispered, “Oh, not again.” He looked down and noticed that her head had tilted sideways, and she was staring with a crease between her eyebrows at the burned bodies they were passing. One ribbon peeled away from her and reached out to the nearest charred form.

  Scythe lifted his arm, turning her face away from the vision of death that surrounded them. She looked up at him, and her sad eyes slowly closed and reopened. Then she seemed to recognize him for the first time. “Scythe,” she whispered, and released a long breath.

  At the same time, he sucked a breath in, reacting instinctively to the sound of her voice speaking his name not with wonder, but with relief. She leaned her head into him, pressed her face into his jacket and fell into unconsciousness.

  She had always been like that: wanting to lean up on people, touch them, hold them. She was the type to add a hug or a kiss to every greeting, and walk right up to someone and take their hand whether they wanted her to or not. It was overly affectionate, even for Humans, and inappropriate as far as the Kin were concerned. When he was younger, it made him very uneasy until he got used to it. After a while, he had grown to enjoy it.

  However, that was a long time ago. Now, all he felt was a strange discomfort.

  Finally reaching the entranceway, Scythe passed the first soldiers fanning out to search the building. He ignored the comments around him: “No damn way,” “That is one dead Human,” and “Phew, smell that? I didn’t think they could smell any worse.”

  Stepping out into the fresh air, Scythe called for the unit’s doctor. He carried Mercy to one of the three trucks that they had just arrived in. Scythe laid her on the floor, taking care with her head.

  “What do you need?” he asked Gerenth, who began checking her vitals.

  “Just assist while I get an I.V. going.” The Kin shook his head, his hands moving quickly, “We might be wasting our time here.”

  Scythe ignored that, too, dousing a cloth with cool water and laying it on her head. He could tell by the amount of power that seeped out of her that she was far from finished; if she were dying, it would have been a mere trickle.

  “She’s got quite a gash here,” he commented. Using a second cloth, he started to clean her skin, working around the head wound before wiping her face and neck.

  The Kin shivered and said, “Something about this girl gives me the creeps.” The ribbons were all around them and Scythe knew they were brushing up against the man, but, being ungifted like almost all the Kin, Gerenth didn’t recognize her power for what it was. Only a small number of the Kin would have the same reaction to her strong power; the rest, like unpowered Humans, wouldn’t notice a thing.

  He cursed internally, thinking that the longer she was around them, the more likely it was that someone would figure out that they had a powered human on their hands. That was dangerous because there were currently several Kin factions investigating them. Ironically, Scythe worked with one: the Scere.

  Scythe didn’t look up when Captain Reave, having ensured that the investigation of the building was progressing adequately, came up to them. “I wasn’t expecting this,” he said. “There was nothing in the brief about a young woman.”

  “No,” Scythe agreed.

  “She looks very young for a Human. How old do you think she is?”

  “About fourteen,” Scythe said.

  “You know her,” the captain said with certainty, picking up on something in Scythe’s minimal reactions.

  “Yes.”

  “No shit? How?”

  “She’s from Poinsea’s Watch,” Scythe said, pointedly refusing to give more information than absolutely necessary.

  Reave, used to Scythe’s closed nature, continued smoothly, “I’ve never seen a Human so young deployed like this before.”

  “No. They would consider anyone this age a child,” Scythe admitted.

  “So, why...?”

  “I have no idea,” Scythe carefully washed Mercy’s arm, taking care with the large bruise on the back.

  “Well, the call is already in, so we’ll have orders for her soon enough,” finished the Kin. “I’ll need your report as well, so when you get done here, I want you to sweep…”

  “I already have. I’ll get it to you,” Scythe said bluntly without looking up.

  The man paused, confused, “I mean, I want you to do a thorough inspection…”

  “I did,” replied Scythe, switching out cleaning rags.

  “You walked straight through twice, that is not what I need from you.”

  Scythe recited easily while he continued to work, “There were fourteen bombs, plastic, spaced out some ten to twe
lve feet apart, except for three at the entrance that were closer together; it was major overkill. They really didn’t want any survivors. They went off simultaneously, which rules out independent motion triggers. My guess is that they were either timed, linked to a single motion detector or, more likely, detonated by remote since they had shooters here anyway.

  “They didn’t enter the building afterwards. I was the second one since the explosion, the first being a woman, my guess is the one who reported the incident. Hers were the only prints, and they extended only twelve feet into the room: size eight woman’s work boot. Considering how many dead she passed, I’m surprised a civ went even that far; I’d check her.

  “I’ve got the number of dead, their weaponry, and location in and out of the building. As for the terrorists, they left none of theirs behind, so you’ll have to do the blood, and you don’t need me for that. I’ve got an idea of what the possible location of outside sniper positions are, but I’m guessing you’ll put Deep on those, and he’s thorough. Just have him watch for mines, or bios, which require less work, are faster to place and have the potential to take down more of the unit over time. That’s what I’d do, just to mess things up a little for you.”

  “Okay, I’ve got the shunt ready, finally. Damn tiny veins. Let’s get this off before I attach the I.V.,” Gerenth said.

  Scythe had finished washing and bandaging what he could reach. He set the cloths aside.

  Reave stopped typing notations on his tablet to turn and walk to the second truck, where he pulled out a trunk and removed a small set of pants and a shirt. “Here, I think you can safely burn the ones she’s got on. Want me to get Jewel or one of the other women to change her?”

  “No. We’ll do it.” Scythe took the clothes from the man, finally looking up at him, “Thanks.”

  The captain, one of the few Kin he worked with who didn’t flinch when Scythe looked at him, nodded. Scythe and Gerenth exchanged Mercy’s jacket, shirt and vest for the clean shirt. The medic began to set up the I.V.

  Scythe continued when Reave signed for more information, “My initial analysis is that it was a well planned but simple ambush; I’d give the setup only about a half hour for a professional, if that. This is all typical of the intel we have on the terrorists. The brief indicated that they were checking this location out as a possible former base of operations, usually a low risk op, but it seems obvious to me that they were led here for the snuff out, which indicates a manipulation of information. My best guess for leads would be a data crunch; of course, the people whose testimonials led the unit here are undoubtably already dead or long gone, but they weren’t found on accident. If we follow the trail back far enough, we will eventually find something; it is hard to eliminate every tie to the source.”

  A confident smile accompanied the captain’s next statement, “And, it will only take us one to nail them.”

  Scythe nodded, reaching his hand out to Gerenth.

  The doctor hesitated before he handed Scythe the bottle he was about to use to fill up a syringe.

  Scythe looked at the label and then handed the bottle back, “No.”

  “This is a standard treatment,” Gerenth objected, clearly not pleased with having to explain himself.

  “No, that steroid is not safe for Humans.” He gave the man a look that said, Don’t argue, because a feisty voice was urging, Argue more and see what happens.

  “There haven’t been conclusive…” The man swallowed his next word, recognizing the end of Scythe’s patience with the topic.

  Easy now, Scythe told himself. Save it for those who really deserve it. He reined in the heat that had surfaced and bled into his eyes. “Antibiotic, that’s it.”

  Seeing that he was understood, he began cutting off the pants. “I suspect the detonation was rushed. I’m sure the plan was to wait until everyone was inside, much easier and almost no risk to themselves, but we’ve got nine bodies out here. Three of the bodies were exiting the building when they were cut down, which indicates that they might have found one of the bombs and were starting to evacuate when the building blew. The two at the communication van were close range takes, probably the second to go, right after the scouts. The only thing that doesn’t fit is the fact that they left a survivor that they didn’t later finish off or capture; that is a first. Because of the way she was trapped, I think they didn’t know she survived. There’s more, but nothing you really need now. I’ll have it ready by this afternoon.”

  The captain shook his head, “If you could get that with a walk through, then you could get a hell of a lot more by taking your time.”

  “Yes, but your team is good; they’ll find anything else.”

  Reave accepted that he was not going to get any more from him right away, so he said, “If we find anything unusual, I want you available.” When Scythe nodded, he returned to the building where his subordinates were busily searching through the charred rubble.

  Scythe didn’t believe there was much else to find beyond what he had catalogued in his head, only a portion of which he had already shared. The terrorist cell was known for the care it took to leave no traces; that was the reason it had been so successful and survived for as long as it had.

  Of course, now things will get very difficult for them, he thought smugly. The part of him that lived for the hunt was already alert, its nose to the wind.

  -----------

  “I’ll be going with her,” Scythe said cooly.

  “That isn’t part of my orders, or yours,” Reave casually answered.

  Scythe didn’t bother contradicting the man.

  Taking in Scythe’s resolute expression, the captain shrugged and said, “I don’t care either way. She’ll be transported to Sonora and that’s all the part we play in it. My unit is assigned to the terrorist hunt for now. Another Human team is on its way. They’ll share what they have and then we’ll go from there. With any luck, we’ll get something useful out of her before she goes.” He looked down at the girl on the bed and then back at Scythe, who stood against the wall next to her. “You’re done with your assignment, so you are supposed to return home.”

  “Why is she going to Sonora if her people are coming here?” Scythe probed.

  Reave shrugged, “Maybe for medical treatment.”

  Scythe and the captain looked at each other for a brief moment, neither acknowledging aloud the unlikelihood of that statement.

  When Scythe still didn’t speak, the man added with the first signs of irritation, “Well, you’re known for your loose reins, Scythe, so I guess you can do what you want. I’ve given you your orders.” He turned to go, but paused when Scythe unexpectedly spoke.

  “Captain, thanks for your help.” Scythe considered, before admitting, “She is the daughter of an old friend.” Scythe made sure to use the Kin word 'renkin' for friend, indicating a person important enough to be included in the family.

  Reave’s eyebrows rose at Scythe’s unusual disclosure of personal information. As Scythe knew it would, the mention of family, the single most highly valued element of Kin culture, softened the man toward him. “I...you’re welcome. I’m sending her out tomorrow with Lasher and Sevren. I was going to send two others, but with you there, I think that will be sufficient guard for a half day trip. If it weren’t for the terrorist cell, there wouldn’t even be need for that. I’ll check back later.”

  Scythe said before the man could leave, “She might not be well enough to travel by tomorrow.”

  Reave considered before replying, “That’s true. She does seem very weak. It would be a shame to lose her in the transport.”

  “You might want to wait a few days more.”

  “Hmm. By then, we’ll have visitors, which could make for a sticky situation when we have to move her out.” Both men knew that once Mercy was sent to Sonora, retrieving her would involve political negotiation for the Humans, something that would put them at a distinct disadvantage.

  “Trust me. It will be sticky regardless when they g
et here and she is gone.”

  “I’m not worried about a bunch of Humans. If they had a leg to stand on, it would have been them carrying her out of that fire pit, not you.” He tilted his head and voiced his interest again, “I’ve never seen you involve yourself this much with a Human, not in three years.”

  Ignoring the comment, Scythe said determinedly, “She belongs with them.”

  The captain’s curiosity was replaced with a sharp look. He didn’t need to say what they both knew: Humans belonged wherever the Kin decided they did. “I can give it one or two more days, for medical reasons, but then I’ve got to send her.”

  Scythe nodded, inwardly cursing himself for pushing too much.

  Without hiding his disapproval, Reave left the room.

  Scythe pushed against the wall, taking a position closer to the door and out of the reach of the increasingly clingy ribbons that twisted in the air around Mercy. She had remained unconscious for the entire day, but Gerenth declared that, despite the poor outlook when they found her, she appeared to be responding well to the antibiotics and fluids. The change of clothing and light bath had done much to improve her hygiene, although something about her scent continued to bother Scythe. It made his skin itch, or tickle; he wasn’t sure what it was, but it disturbed him.