Renegade Reprisal (The Renegade Series)

by J. C. Fiske

  “You are doing wonderfully, Nina, please, a little longer,” Foxblade said.

  “Thank you. It’s just, I . . . I’ve known about this whole plan of hers for the past year. Everything. The plan to destroy the Renegades’ home, to capture Gisbo’s father to supply the followers with more Black high, and the vial, to somehow bring Drakearon back here from the Reath. So, in secret, I slowly began to help gather kids my age who have been kicked from their homes or are being hunted by them. Our leader is a brave, brave man. He’s like nothing I have ever seen and is good as they come. He knew of this plan before I could even say anything. He has been helping me, too, personally, for you see, I still have a terrible addiction to the Black high. I dream about it, the way it made me feel, and it is so, so hard to resist and . . .” Nina started to cry once again, “ . . . and, because of my weakness, I feel, it is my fault all this has happened!”

  “None of this is your fault,” Foxblade said. Nina shook her head violently.

  “It is! You see, our leader foresaw Gisbo and Falcon coming here, he knew! How he knew, I don’t know, there is something special about him and much that he does is in secret, but he knew about these coming events and had been preparing for it. He, he sent me on a mission to find you, Gisbo. That is why I was out there spying on you, but I just didn’t know how to approach you. Didn’t know what to say; I knew I was going to sound crazy to you! And then, when I was about to spill it, I heard it, curse my good ears, I heard it. I heard the chanting, way back at the Church of the Holy Chosen. I had been away so long and my whole body shook all over. The pull was just too much for me to bare. I had planned on just getting a taste of it and flying back, but everything fell apart from there, everything, and now, everything has come together. If only I could have warned you in time. If only . . . I am so weak willed,” Nina said as she sobbed violently now with her head in her hands. Foxblade put a comforting hand on her shoulder and looked up at Gisbo.

  “Nina, whatever has happened, you cannot blame yourself. Fate is a funny thing. Perhaps you were meant to go back, perhaps that pull you felt was fate stepping in. If you hadn’t gotten captured and somehow freed yourself, Gisbo and I would be dead,” Foxblade said.

  “Yes, I suppose, but things could have been much different,” Nina said.

  “Whatever happened happened for a reason. I used to be a skeptic of such silly ideologies, but old age has softened the idea for me. I have been in too many situations and stared death in the face. But, no matter what, he doesn’t have the final say. Death is leashed by something. What that is, I still haven’t finalized,” Foxblade said.

  “Either way, Nina, if your mom needed my dad, she was going to get him. He wasn’t allowed into our Flarian home. If anyone should be mad at you, it should be me, but I’m not. So take it easy, would ya? Let’s say hypothetically you did warn us about her. We still would have moved like we did to the Flarian home. Either way, nobody could go up against that Mara alone and my dad was in no mood when he left to think clearly. I’m not mad, Nina, we are going to get him back,” Gisbo said. Foxblade looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  “You almost make me believe we can do this when it isn’t easy,” Foxblade said. Gisbo smiled.

  “Quiet. Okay, now, before we go any further, I want to know the answer to the thing that is probably going through everyone’s mind. What the hell is this lion all about?” Gisbo asked.

  “There aren’t many lions around these parts anymore, let alone a white one and a female is especially rare as they are the ones who do all the hunting and put themselves in the most danger. If this is the lion I believe it to be, then it is living proof that Vadid the Valiant is not dead to us, Gisbo,” Foxblade said. Gisbo’s grin stretched wide.

  “That’s . . . you mean, he’s alive? But where is he?” Gisbo asked.

  “If we knew, he’d be with us. But this was his Boon, Arielle, the famous white lion. It seems Vadid’s power to draw from the sunlight can be transferred through her. When a Boon’s human counterpart dies, so does the Boon. If Vadid was dead, then Arielle would have met the same fate. But as you can see, she is alive and well and is not an ordinary lion. Still, I’d like to do my own little test, just to be sure,” Foxblade said, sitting down to pet her.

  “Hello, girl. It’s been years. If your master can hear me, girl, wherever he is, tell him his servant remains loyal to him. I have a friend that would like to see you, as well,” Foxblade said. He then lifted his ring to the sky, ignited his essence, and yelled out.

  “Seekou!” Foxblade shouted.

  There was a small flash of yellow. When the light settled, a chattering raccoon with big eyes appeared. It chirped constantly and made its way over to the great lion, sniffing it carefully. Then, as if it recognized it, the raccoon twirled around three times and let forth a series of fast, firing chirps. Within moments, the raccoon snuggled up beside the great lion and planted its chin upon the cold floor of the cave. The lion turned its great head and lapped the raccoon with its tongue.

  “This is Arielle, no doubt about it,” Foxblade said as he reached over and petted his raccoon. Gisbo began to chuckle.

  “Hah, I would have never guessed you to have a cute, fluffy, little raccoon for your Boon, Foxblade. Aw, you’re just a big softy on the inside, aren’t ya?” Gisbo chided. Foxblade shot Gisbo a look that made his knees wobble. He raised his hands in defense.

  “Just joshin’,” Gisbo said.

  “Raccoons are meticulous, agile, intelligent, resourceful creatures of the night. They prepare for the worst, even re-washing fish pulled from a river. They are survivors; you could learn much from them,” Foxblade said.

  “I suppose I . . .” Gisbo started.

  “I didn’t ask for an answer; it was a rhetorical statement,” Foxblade said. He then turned his attention to Nina. “Nina, can you tell us how you came in contact with Arielle and how you knew to come rescue us?”

  “That is something I would love to share. You see, Arielle has saved me more than you could ever know. After I failed to warn Gisbo of the coming danger, I returned to the church, just to get a taste of the service, to feel the Black high within me once again. But I never thought that my stealthing abilities and flight would disengage while under its effect. It did, and I was discovered, caught, and brought to my mother. Again, she looked not relieved to know I was okay, but relieved to know she had me in her grasp once again. She looked at me as if she had lost and recovered an important tool, not a lost daughter. It pained me. And so, to prevent me from leaving again, she bound me to a cell and chained me. It was so dark in that place, I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face. I heard her talking to one of her guardsman, saying her plan was to make me snap, lose my mind so I would be easier to control. Her solution was the solitary confinement I was in. All darkness, bound to chains, and not a sound,” Nina said.

  “That’s awful . . .” Gisbo said.

  “You are lucky to be alive and still have your wits about you,” Foxblade said.

  “Yes, but there was a sound, and that’s what made it far worse for me. My mother told me if I had any plans of escaping this time, she had set up an insurance policy. She told me of a monster within the cell with me, a monster she had summoned herself to watch me in the darkness. I didn’t believe her, of course, until the cell slammed tight and the fear set in. All was quiet until I heard a low growl. I had never been more afraid in my life, not knowing if it was my own mind playing tricks on me or if there actually was an unseeable monster there in the cell with me. Not knowing reality from imagination and being between the two was torture. I believe that’s how people lose it. Reality and the fiction your mind supposes force your very mind apart and you lose it, just to not feel the pain and confusion anymore. It was pure torture, combined with the loneliness, as well as the separation from the Black high,” Nina said.

  “But that is so horrible! Why do you talk like it was nothing? You don’t have any fear in your voice at all. That must have been t
raumatic for you! How can you speak so calmly about such an awful time?” Gisbo asked.

  “That’s just it, those thoughts and feelings lasted mere minutes. Then the supposed monster revealed itself to me. The monster was instead my savior. Something my mother couldn’t have foreseen,” Nina said. She looked down to Arielle and stroked her mane. “It was Arielle. The guards said the monster had killed a lot of their men and it was wild. But I feel Arielle knew my heart and knew I was good and suffering. She burst into light to penetrate the darkness and trotted toward me. She was a beacon of hope and her aura was just . . . it comforted me like, like, a comfort I had never felt before. It wasn’t at all like the Black high. That felt like pleasure and nothing else. This feeling came from deep within me. The aura enhanced myself. I saw my potential, I felt safe and that I had the power to do anything as long as my will was strong. Because of Arielle, as long as I’m with her, the cravings are nearly gone. I feel, the longer I am with her, I will be able to beat this.” Nina grasped the lion around the neck.

  “Vadid’s work, no doubt.” Foxblade stared at the lion intently for a moment. “Just where are you, my friend? You are very much needed right now.”

  “You should know there is a little more I found out, though,” Nina said. “There was a reason the lion was captured. Some people in Oak County believe that Vadid did not die afterall. Karm knows. He has been to Sand Lake City. He has met with my mother. He knows of all her operations and he is behind it all. He spoke as if the white lion has been stalking him, as well as the Renegades. He dreams constantly of them both. He is doing anything in his power to bring people over to his side. If the lion were ever revealed, the people would believe once again. He could not risk it. So, while the lion has been hidden these past years, he is slowly wooing the people. He may not be a strong man, but he certainly has a way with words. He has them right in his pocket, which in turn is only one pocket on the jacket of Drakearon.”

  “I knew Karm was against everything his father stood for, but I never thought he would be involved in any of this,” Foxblade said. “This is troubling news. I doubt even Narroway knows how far his treachery actually reaches.”

  “He doesn’t just support it, Foxblade, he has provided my mother with funds. And those funds came from the taxes of Oak County, from its people. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Holy Chosen becomes a respectable religion in the coming years. Anything to bring more people here. Something to hope for just isn’t enough anymore. People need to FEEL something, to see it with their own eyes. And this gives them exactly that, but at a loss of their own humanity, their own free will. Worst of all, they don’t even know it until it is too late, and good luck breaking away as I have once you are involved. Not everyone has Arielle to help them recover,” Nina said.

  “Thank you, Nina. Your story has helped us immensely. If only I could get my hands on the notes in Heaven’s Shelter on the Drakeness we have produced this year or, better yet, had Falcon to confirm things. But, after hearing your stories, I have some theories, strong ones at that. I wish I could go on more than just a theory, but in our position, it is better than nothing. I cannot be sure just how they plan on bringing back Drakearon, but I believe that you, Nina, are somehow needed. Either way, without Narsissa, this plan, whatever it is, can’t come to fruition. The battle strategy remains the same; we must eradicate her soul from Thera. Only then will Heaven’s Shelter be saved and, in turn, Drakearon cannot return,” Foxblade said.

  “You don’t have to use such choice words around me. I know you need to kill my mother. You do not need to sugar-coat it,” Nina said.

  “I understand,” Foxblade said. “But don’t you . . .”

  “As far as I feel, I have never had a mother. She has been dead since I was a child. She has been grasping at life for far too long. She is gone. I want to help you,” Nina said. “I don’t want her to cause anyone else more pain, and if it’s her life for an entire city of good-natured people that could shift the tide of balance against Drakearon, then let it be them, not my mother, that lives. I want to fight,” Nina said, her voice trembling as she said it.

  “That is admirable, Nina, but I feel your help would be better given in a different area besides fighting, so here is what I want you to do. This great man you spoke of, you know where his base of operations is located, correct?” Foxblade asked.

  “Yes, it is not too far from here. It is underground in a connected series of caves,” Nina said.

  “Good. This man, I feel, has had some foresight into what’s coming. He already knows we are in need of an army to fight this threat. Whatever men he has, tell him to start preparing them. We have much to get done in two weeks. Mount up on Arielle and go to him,” Foxblade said.

  “Where are you going to go?” Nina asked.

  “ Gisbo and I need to go speak with a mutual friend of ours,” Foxblade said.

  “But, if we are separated, how am I to get in contact with you? His base is secret, afterall,” Nina said. Foxblade smiled.

  “Trust me, Nina, we will find you,” Foxblade said.

  “But how?” Nina asked.

  “Just trust me. We will contact you when it is time. Now go, we haven’t time to lose,” Foxblade said.

  “Okay,” Nina said as she got on top of the great lion. She turned to look at them both. “I’ll be waiting. I do hope everything goes okay.”

  “It will. Now go,” Foxblade said.

  “Good luck and bye . . . Gisbo,” Nina said with a smile. And with that, the lion was out of the cave and into the sunlight. Gisbo managed a sheepish wave.

  “You like her, don’t you?” Foxblade said.

  “I . . . well,” Gisbo started.

  “I think she will be a fine woman someday, Gisbo, but she is in far too fragile a state for anything other than friendship right now. I would not pursue it further than that,” Foxblade said.

  “Ugh, okay,” Gisbo muttered.

  “Now come,” Foxblade said as they made their way to the back of the cave.

  “Where are we going now?” Gisbo asked.

  “We are going to see your friend Rolce, Gisbo. If anyone can confirm my theory, it would be him,” Foxblade said.

  “And what theory is that?” Gisbo asked.

  “That Nina has Sybil blood,” Foxblade said.

  Chapter Sixteen: Damn Drippies

  Gisbo and Foxblade made their way through a luscious trail of green, pushing giant branches aside as they made their way through one of the rainforests of Naforia. Monkeys chirped in the trees high above, followed by the squawkings of birds Gisbo had not heard of before. Everything was moist and Gisbo found himself rubbing an arm across his face to keep the dew from the branches from getting into his eyes. Gisbo already felt his nose clogging up. He was certainly allergic to something in these woods. When he first arrived, he smelled all sorts of fragrances unique to the rainforest, but that quickly diminished. Now he could only feel his own mucus. He rose one finger to the side of his nose, pressed it against one nostril, and blew the mucus out the other in a loud snort. Foxblade turned.

  “Don’t do that,” Foxblade said.

  “I can’t help it! Guy’s gotta breathe, ya know,” Gisbo said.

  “Why are you such a hindrance to my eardrums?” Foxblade muttered.

  “Hey, sorry, but we all can’t walk around with a barb up our ass all day like you, okay?” Gisbo said. Foxblade stopped his advancement. He didn’t turn all the way around, just cocked an idle stare at Gisbo from behind his shoulder.

  “Care to repeat that?” Foxblade asked calmly.

  “Um . . .” Gisbo started.

  “Didn’t think so,” Foxblade muttered as they continued their stroll through the woods. They walked in silence for what seemed like hours until both Gisbo and Foxblade froze. In unison, they both felt something sharp dig into their backs. Before Gisbo could offer any complaint, Foxblade was a whirl of motion. In a retreating side step, Gisbo saw out of the corner of his eyes a flash of yellow and a spe
ar tip, broken from the hilt of someone’s weapon, soar through the air, and the spear tip in his own back was gone. There were quick bursts of clacking sounds of metal on wood and finally silence. Gisbo chanced a look behind them to see two men with broken spears, and Foxblade was holding a dagger to each of their throats. Both of the men were shirtless, wearing loinclothes, and had curious designs painted all across their bodies. Their eyes, however, were fearless, even with a dagger hanging loosely over their Adam’s apples.

  “Why must I, of all people, get such treatment every time I visit here?” Foxblade asked. Suddenly, Gisbo felt the ground beneath them shake and, in an instant, two big hands shot from the ground itself, spraying dirt and green energy everywhere, and grabbed both of Foxblade’s feet. A moment later, Foxblade was pulled into the ground and there was silence.

  “What the . . .” Gisbo muttered. There was another rumble and then, ten feet from where Gisbo stood, a large, burly man, also shirtless with the same designs, burst from the earth, covered in dirt and grime, and held Foxblade aloft by one foot in his large hand. Foxblade was covered in grime and had worms and grubs in his dreadlocks. The burly man was huge, bigger than any man Gisbo had ever seen. He dangled Foxblade by his foot as a fisherman would, proudly displaying a trophy fish. At the man’s full height, Foxblade’s head was two feet off the ground. Gisbo saw that the man was also entangled with roots and, within those roots, the man had Foxblade’s weapon pouch, ring, and both daggers dangling from them. The roots looked more like live snakes as they tossed and flipped Foxblade’s daggers playfully.

  “Why must you get such treatment? Moordin has informed me of your treatment of fish within Heaven’s Shelter. You waste Thera’s resources and I waste you . . . friend,” the big man said. His voice was thunderous, but had a tone Gisbo thought he recognized. Even now, when he looked upon the man with his shiny, domed head and thick, black, braided beard, Gisbo thought he recognized him as a relation to someone. Even so, he wasn’t about to speak his mind.