The medic walked over to another lantern sitting on a chair, the blue images dancing in her vision. “Brace yourself Araa,” he said, igniting the light. “Did any of what I said make sense to you?”
“No.” She licked her lips, tasting that blueberry flavor tingling her tongue before spitting as much of it out as she could.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, checking to make sure her cell door was locked.
“Do I have to be locked in?” She couldn’t exactly waltz out in her present condition.
“In case the mob busts in,” he said before his blue silhouette trailed off to the left. A mob of people out there for her? Was that why he was grabbing onto his sidearm? Wonderful, add that to list of challenges.
“Alright, one problem at a time. One solution at a time,” she whispered. The first problem was her immobility, so she tried wiggling her toes and some moved without a hint of knotting up. The improvement brought a smile to her face. Next problem. How was she going to get out of here under lock and key? She groaned. Did they that have to put her in the a jail? Yes, yes, they did, she answered herself. “I am going to get out of here.”
Two blue silhouettes came back into view, one a bit taller and broader than the other more familiar one.
“Anything new,” he asked.
“No,” the medic replied. “But, there are signs. She thought she was visited by two people when this place is locked up tight.”
“I see.”
“I’m right here, you know,” she said. “I can hear you.”
“Good, you’re awake,” the new man said, his voice gruff with an edge that wasn’t used to being talked back to. “Has the doctor visited you?”
She couldn’t remember.
“Yes, he did,” the medic answered. “Yesterday. Gave her a ton load of muscle relaxers.”
The taller man nodded. “You’re dismissed, medic.”
“I’m sorry Major, but—”
“Son, I need a private word with her. If something happens, I’ll call you.” Major? Edgar Omen? Perfect. Josie was right: this Islander guise was going to be what saved her. Now she had to find a way to poke at his soft spot and get him to release her.
The medic eventually withdrew, leaving Ed and her alone. He stood there awhile, letting the silence dragged on and making her wonder if he even wanted to speak with her or not. Fearing the Major would leave without saying a word, she spoke first.
“Are you the doctor,” the first thing she thought of saying.
“No,” came his curt voice. He didn’t seem happy at all. “I’m Major Ed Omen. How are you feeling?”
“Tired.”
“Yes, that’s to be expected…,” his voice trailed off. “Is your eyesight still sensitive?”
“Yes,” she replied. One-word answers weren’t going to work; she had to warm him up. “Is everything going to be OK?”
“Depends.” He seemed to lower to a sitting position. Good, he’s staying for a while. “What mantra are you using to cope?”
Mantra? She’d forgotten about that! “Uh, my mind is like a gentle stream. Flowing from thought to thought. My body is like a cocoon. Mending into a butterfly.” She winched, that made absolutely no sense. Hopefully, he didn’t know Islanders that well.
“like a cocoon, butterfly,” Ed said with a curious tone. “I thought you people only used metaphors? That it works better?”
“Yes, that’s right” she quickly said. “It’s…just hard to concentrate.”
“Yes, that’s to be expected,” he replied, letting the silence fall again. Damn fool, just get me out of here!
“Depends,” she asked. “You said whether I’ll be OK or not. Depends on what?”
Ed took in a sharp breath. “Araa,” he said. “You weren’t exposed for long, which is good. So, if we do nothing, you’ll probably live but, there’s a very good chance you’ll lose your mental health over the next couple of weeks.”
“Couple of weeks,” she gasped. “It only takes two weeks?” But, she felt —well, no, she felt awful, but her thinking seemed clear. She was still herself, Araa from the North —Roe from the Nyxnox Sect. Nothing had changed. It couldn’t be two weeks! It would take two weeks just to get to the shore on foot!
“An estimate, two weeks” Ed said, coldly. “You will begin to hear voices, then relive old memories. Sometimes, you will be assaulted with a sense of impending doom that you can’t explain. More and more frequently, these episodes will come to you. Before long, you won’t be able to tell what’s real or not, what’s safe or danger. And no one will be able to reach you, either. You will become a danger to yourself and others…,” his voice trailed off again. How could he know so much unless —of course, the accident she heard rumors about. He must have been exposed too. But he survived! So can she.
“You too” she said, finding herself seeking more sympathy then practical information. Weakness, she rolled her tongue as if she was trying to get a bad taste out of her mouth.
“The other option is to let Doctor Alexander treat you,” he said, ignoring her. “His procedure is very difficult, but it will allow you to keep your sanity, albeit some symptoms may remain.”
Losing her mind was not something she had planned on, and the fact that nothing strange —as yet— was manifesting brought about a little ‘sense of impending doom’ on her already. Only two weeks, barely enough time to get to back to the Golden Island. Damn, she fulfilled had her mission. She’s done! She just had to get out of here and win those runic suits from Siga. “Fine, then what are we waiting for?”
Ed tilted his head. Even just seeing his outline, Roe could tell he didn’t expect that reaction from her.
“I’m from the North,” she added. “We’re not so passive up there.” Which was true from what she learned prepping for this mission. They had to contend with those the Glacial Barbarians, the Black Clan.
“Ah,” he said lightly as if in of doubt. Did it matter now? She could blame everything on the exposure now. She just wanted out! Her fingers cramped painfully; she hadn’t realized she balled them into fists. “Doctor Alexander is preparing his table now. You’ll be take there tomorrow morning.”
“Good,” she whispered. “How long will my recovery take?”
“Physically, a few weeks; psychologically, months. Maybe longer.” She let out a ragged sigh. She’d been here a half a year already. Another month or so wouldn’t make much difference, but months. “But you should know,” he continued. “The Doctor’s procedure isn’t perfect. You have about a 1 in 10 chance of dying—”
“What,” her voice croaked out.
“I’m sorry, Araa.” He stood. “It’s the best that can be done.”
He started for the exit when Roe called out to him. “Major,” she said, the word sounding flat. She didn’t know what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t accept those odds. Insanity or probable death? No! This isn’t how she thought she’d die: on a table under a knife trying to save her, nor losing her mind and becoming some circus freak or put out of her misery. No! She was entrusted with this mission. She had to help take back her country. Do what the Shadows do best: succeed at all costs.
“Yes, Araa?”
“One in ten,” she said.
“One in ten,” he repeated.
“I’m with the nine, aren’t I?”
“Possibly.”
“Probably.”
She exhaled deeply. Irony that after being patient for so long here, it was only time now that stopped her from getting back. It seemed all a waste now: the preparations, the infiltration, all the damn maintenance work she had to do and stupid pleasant attitude she had to fake. If she’d just come in one night, kill a guard or two, she’d have better luck than wasting so much time and ending up here like this. Even if she left right now, she wouldn’t make it time. Two weeks away. She’d be a raving lunatic by the time she made it to the rendezvous at the shore. And Siga would renege on his promise to supply runic suits. The Veiled Goddess needs to wake
. She needs to take back Drakendor. Josie’s already putting herself in danger waiting for her and investigating Sig’s cure for exposer. Damn it all! Sig has a cure! She needed that treatment here and now!
“Alright, Major,” she said, realizing she was breathing heavily under his studying eye. “Thank you.” She turned her closed lidded gaze up at the cave ceiling. Small blue dots and sharp edges danced and twinkled in her vision, reminding her of a clear night sky. How she loved the night. To blend in. To disappear. How much she wanted that now.
Ed still stood there, considering her a while longer, probably wondering what mantra she was conjuring up. With all her training on this mission, she couldn’t come up with one right now. ‘Araa.’ She’d die as Araa. Not the worst persona she had played.
“You were right,” he finally said. “Several months ago, I, along with forty-five others were exposed.” His voice turned hard as steel. “We were found quickly enough, but only half of us were operated on. The doctor took out a growth in our heads, a tumor that from all accounts is what causes the insanity.”
Roe looked up at him, shoulders slumped as though the memory weighed him down. Confirming her suspicions on him didn’t feel nearly as satisfying as she thought. She could only guess those forty-five had been under his command at the time. Sickening. This military man probably killed far more in the war, and he regrets those forty-five deaths? They died for their cause! They should be celebrated! Such weakness in him turned her stomach, and she winced from the cramp it caused.
“Then you survived,” she said, trying to hide her disgust.
“Three others. I am the success.” He hesitated before continuing, “I’m not completely cured and if you make it, you won’t either.”
“If I make it.” She still had to decide: let the doctor operate or try and sneak out tonight? Neither sounded very good to her.
Ed sat back down, his gaze never leaving her. “If the operation is unsuccessful, I’ll have your body send back to your island.” Roe held in a chuckle. When her body arrives, there’s going to be a lot of confused people. The real ‘Araa’ had been long dead and buried there.
“Thanks,” she whispered.
“I have to say. You’re a lot different from the Islanders I knew.”
“Oh, you know many?”
“One other.”
“We’re not all the same, Major,” she said, slipping into her persona like knives into their sheaths. “Our islands are as different as your homes. Each family is unique.”
“Yes, I suppose so,” he replied. “Then, I wouldn’t suppose you would know two Islanders by the names of Fiph and Elee, would you?”
Of course, she did. They were the parents of Ninn who died under Ed’s command in the Brothers’ War. He’d been trying to contact them ever since the war ended. She was supposed to use that information to get close to him. Didn’t have to in the end, such wasted effort. Despite herself, she snorted.
“Then you do?” He straightened in his seat.
“No, no, I don’t.”
He nodded. “I see.”
“Were they important to you?”
“A man under my command died and I’ve been trying to reach his parents—”
The Major’s voiced faded as darkness took her.
***
A moment later, Roe awoke outside in the frigid cold, fighting off a shiver. Darkness hugged her with a new moon above and stars shinning like a thousand candles blending into one massive paintbrush streak of light across the sky. She found herself pressed up against a stone wall —no, a building, wearing her usual all black uniform: pants, shirt, cloak with the hood tightly pulled over her head and leather mask that strapped around her ears and covered all but her eyes. She was on a mission. The question was: which? Confused, she carefully looked around. No sign of—
Josie fell right in front of her without a sound, even the snow didn’t crunch under her feet. Startled, Roe pressed herself further against the wall.
“Roe? You alright,” Josie asked.
“Roe, no, I’m not…,” Yes, she was Roe; that was he real name. Who’s Araa?
“Roe, if you can’t—”
“Yea, yea. I’m fine,” Roe replied, shaking off her disorientation. This wasn’t her first mission, damn it. Was she daydreaming? She should be better than that by now.
“Alright, found our way up and in; let’s go.” Josie grabbed the stone wall.
“Wait. What are we…uh…”
Josie released the wall, her black eyes searching Roe. Her eyebrows furrowed together above her mask, making her look more angry than concerned. “What’s the matter, Roe? You’ve done this before. Nothing new.”
Roe shook her head, trying to dispel the lingering dizziness. “Uh, nothing. Just give me a second.”
“We don’t have a second. Climb.” She started up and Roe joined her, following Josie’s pattern of holds for her feet and hands. All the while climbing, she tried to think what she was doing here…and why she couldn’t remember. Maybe Josie just hadn’t told her yet. She was Roe’s sponsor in the Coming Shadows’ Nyxnox Sect, and she would often wait until they had started their mission before telling Roe her part. Yes, that must it. So, instead of second-guessing herself, Roe focused on Josie’s climb above her and learning as much as she could.
Slowly, they climbed until reaching a window and Josie slipped through. When Roe reached it, she saw nothing be darkness. A hand reached out and pulled her inside. Heart racing, she found Josie holding her down, hissing, “you have to be faster.”
Coming to her senses, Roe rose to a squat beside Josie. The room was pitch black, but Josie removed from her pocket a red ruby, lit with magic, bathing the room in an eerie deep red. Mages were rare far north in Drakendor. How she got one, Roe didn’t know, maybe one of the secrets she’d learn from her eventually.
The room was empty but for a small rug and boxes stacked up in one corner. Josie motioned for her to lower her ear closer.
“How are you feeling,” she whispered.
“Fine, why?”
Josie cocked an eyebrow, grabbing both of her shoulders. “Not shaking? Heart rate not to too fast. Good. Might make you into a Night Daughter sooner than I thought.” Roe couldn’t help but smile; complements from Josie were rare. But truth was, she hadn’t truly feared her missions in a long time…long time, that didn’t quiet make sense to her. She still had a sponsor; she hadn’t been out in the field that long. “Let’s get this done,” Josie continued, slinking to the door. She concealed the ruby into her pocket, plunging the room back into darkness, but Roe knew Josie could still see. Her blessings were more developed then Roe’s, the ruby more for her benefit. “I’m going to peek. But you’re going first this time.”
In the darkness, Roe saw a sliver of white light growing, marking the outline the door. Josie peeked through. Using her blessing of the Veiled Goddess, Josie was able to keep the door from creaking. Roe’s stomach knotted; she’d have to depend on her own blessing now for the first time without guidance.
Josie motioned with her hand for Roe to come near. Squatting down, she took in a deep breath and concentrated on making silent steps. Her first foot made a light tap, and she winced. Her next more silent until the third made no sound. Her blessing always seemed to come natural to her —almost instinctively— unless she was nervous. And concentrating on trying to make it happen always made her blessing fussy, too. ‘Just ease into it’ or ‘just allow it’ seemed to be the mantra Josie and the others would use. Roe often wondered if it was the same with mages blessed by the Golden Lady.
Josie whispered, “sloppy.” And Roe shrugged apologetically. It was why she’s here, isn’t it? To become proficient? “Roe,” Josie continued as she looked through the sliver of opened door. “We’re here to poison Count Marque’s son,” she said, matter-a-factly. Josie turned and locked eyes with a stare that seemed to try to pry into her. “This will be your first mark,” she added slowly, darting her eyes between Roe’s.
&
nbsp; Roe glanced away, her heart running up into a full gallop, thundering inside her chest. Her first mark; her first kill. She knew it had to come sometime. She couldn’t be sneaking around and stealing things forever, not like that cowardly Night Lady’s crew. They weren’t willing to do what had to be done. Maybe because they had nothing to fight for. She did. Cowards.
Roe almost jumped when Josie placed her hand on her shoulder. “You’re ready for this,” she said. And Roe relaxed, releasing her tightened jaw. “Sorry I didn’t tell you before, but this is our way.”
“Why the Count’s son and not the Count himself?”
Josie returned her gaze into the next room. “His son has shown mage abilities.”
“This far north?”
“Shh,” Josie scolded her. “Yes, this far north. The Golden Lady has blessed him.” Roe caught shame in her voice she wasn’t used to hearing. “But those around him are going to use his gift…irresponsibly,” her voice hardened as though she were steeling her willing.
“How?”
“The One-King, the boy’s being groomed for him and his army. In a few days, they’re sending him to be taught by the priests in Zanf’r. It’ll be too late by then.” Boy?
“Wait, he’s a kid?”
“Yes.”
“But…,” her words failed her.
Josie turned over her shoulder, her eyes swollen with sympathy. “His bad luck,” she said, softly.
“Can’t we take him with us, instead? He can work for us.”
“No,” she hissed. “You can’t think that way. Not now; not during the mission. Everything has already been planned through. Don’t you think we would have tried for another mage if we could? We took extra care with this one, even asking for Rochelle’s help. Goddess help us if she finds out what we used Mend for.” She sighed, shutting her eyes tightly for a moment. “Listen, Roe. If took the kid with us, the Count would search till the ends of Gen Shemver for him…and besides, the boy wouldn’t be a candidate for our line of work. Not as he is, anyway.”
Call of the Chosen- Broken Kingdoms Page 33