by Skyler Andra
On his way past, Knoxe instructed Astra and I. “Deploy a memory wiping spell for any witnesses.”
Chapter 25
Astra
The gantii kicked and thumped in the trunk of Knoxe’s car. No one else riding in the cab batted an eyelid. I guess they were all use to it. Well, except for Pascal, but he winced at his headache. I glanced at Tor who smiled back, carefree, like this sort of thing happened all the time.
Okay.
When the mothman let out a pitiful chittering sound, my heart bled for it, and I wanted to stop the car, run to the trunk and sooth it. But I was wedged between Tor and Pascal in the backseat, and this was no frightened stray cat we’d caught in an alley. The mothman was even taller than Tor and much faster and agile with its wings. When we tried to apprehend it back at the school, the beast had slammed aside Tor, knocking him unconscious and batted me away like I was a fly in its way.
“Our priority when we get back is to collect spit samples from the beast and submit them to the lab for analysis.” Knoxe ignored the raging beast in the back. “Pascal, Nomical, you’re responsible for this. Got it?”
“Yes, Knoxe.” Pascal stared out the window and didn’t glance Knoxe’s way. He seemed focused on the harsh, dry, and unforgiving landscape of the Broken Hill region flying past us. Desert for miles with some vegetated areas that the local council had planted.
“Then I want to question the gantii,” Knoxe continued, over the loud thud. “Find out why it was in the cemetery, if it’s helping hide Styx’s coven and where the fuck they are now.”
The creature hammered at the panel lining the trunk, rattling the backseat and the force hit me square in the ribs. Only me. And since I’d been beaten on three consecutive days from practice sparring with Tor, I leaned forward and gripped the edge of the backseat.
At the Shadows, we used portals to transport gantii back to their home worlds or to the academy. Saved on time and reduced the potential for the creatures to awaken from a spell and cause havoc. Things were very different at the Guardians. I was still discovering.
“Why didn’t we just portal this thing back to the Guardians?” I asked the obvious question.
“Knoxe doesn’t like to use them.” Tor leaned in when he answered like he was sharing state secrets “They give him travel sickness.”
A team leader who suffered portal sickness? That was going to be interesting when we crossed into the gantii realms or if we had to chase the supernaturals across dimensions.
The shudder of the backseat shook me, and I twisted my hands, my nerves snaking at the increasing plight of the mothman. “Can’t we shut that thing up?”
“I hit it with the rune blaster,” Pascal replied, not looking away from the window. “But it woke up a lot quicker than normal.”
According to my textbooks, the rune blasters were supposed to render a gantii unconscious for a few hours. More like ten minutes in this case and we still had another fifteen to go to get to the Guardian facility in the middle of nowhere. Looked like this ride was going to be fun…not.
“Will this help?” Knoxe switched on the stereo and ACDC thudded in my head as much as the mothman’s complaints.
That made the gantii worse. And Pascal groaned, shrank in his seat, gripping the sides of his head.
Tor lifted his arm over my head. “Shut the hell up.” He thumped a fist on the backboard of the vehicle, which silenced the thing for a few moments, before it started to chitter again. Unable to bear the pitiful sound, like it cried out for someone it loved, I leaned forward with my head in my hands.
Pascal slipped his headphones on and closed his eyes. After a few moments his tensed face relaxed.
By the time we got back to the compound, I had a headache, and I couldn’t stop pumping and rubbing my hands. The panic of the poor gantii set my anxiety on edge. Once inside, we’d have to lock it in a cell and interrogate it with a translation device to find out how it was connected to the vampires.
I didn’t know if I had the stomach for that. Heck, my Asperger’s made it naturally hard for me to lie, and I’d suck at playing mind games with a beast to urge a confession out of it. And I certainly didn’t have the stomach for violence or torture or whatever methods they might use to pry information from suspects.
The thing squealed with terror and kicked as Tor, Raze, and Knoxe removed it from the trunk. Pascal slammed the lid down and gave it another hit from the rune blaster. Calm and quiet, the group proceeded to carry the beast to the gates with me behind them and Pascal following me.
“Nomical,” Knoxe got my attention. “You and Pascal sign this thing in while we take it to the holding cells for interrogation.”
Procedure. Every gantii brought into the facility had to be registered, given a number, and logged into the system for processing. Then proceedings could be made to the Mothman Council for dealing with the creature which had broken the rules and crossed into this world without permission.
“Sure.” My stomach gurgled, and I twisted my hands over and over.
“Astra?” I stopped to wait for Pascal.
“This might help.” He held up his tone bars as if asking for my permission. “But I have to do it before we enter and the dampeners affect my magic.”
“Please.” I nodded.
He beat his tone bars together, blasting me with a soft wave of sound, that took the edge off my nerves and soothed my headache.
“Thank you.” I wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek for being so sweet, but he hunched over and winced. “Does that hurt you?”
He nodded. “Recently.”
“Will you get the doctors to look at it?” I didn’t want to state the obvious reasons: tumors, caffeine and not enough water or anxiety.
“I… I don’t like them touching me.”
“But what if they can make you better?”
“Will you come with me? Your voice soothes and distracts me.”
I smiled. “Sure. Come on.” I walked with him to the gates where we scanned our bracelets, and the sentry allowed us in.
I filled out the two pages of paperwork to register the gantii into the Guardian’s system, and the guard entered it into the computer. When he finished, he slid a registration ticket under his booth. “Give this to the guards in the holding bay, and they’ll provide you with an interrogation kit.”
I froze. “Interrogation kit?”
“Torture devices and drugs to extract information.”
Torture? Drugs? Horrified, I squeaked, “Thanks,” and snatched the page and ducked away.
My stomach soured as I followed Pascal down the long corridor of the Guardians. Each step down a flight of stairs made me feel even more ill. We reached a booth outside the dungeon area.
“My team’s inside questioning the mothman,” Pascal advised.
“Paperwork?” the guard grunted.
Slowly, I deposited the slip of paper underneath the window.
He gave me the once over, scanned the paperwork, then issued me a leather purse tied with black ribbons. I didn’t even want to know what was inside. Finally, he pressed a button, and the door to the holding cells creaked open.
Clutching the kit, I followed Pascal inside the dungeon where
creatures were held captive behind glowing blue magical barriers. Chimera, Drakon, Satyr, Basilisk and more. Growling, hissing, thumping their tails, and howling at our arrival.
I covered my mouth and nose with my hand. God, they smelled awful. Breath capable of bringing a man to his knees. Like wet dog fur to the power of a hundred mixed with piss. I wretched. Oh, this smell.
We hurried past the cages and came to a stop outside of the end cell where Knoxe, Tor, and Raze stood.
“Give me that.” Knoxe snatched the interrogation kit.
My hands went numb. I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t walk away without asking. What the hell was he going to do? I wasn’t exactly an interrogation kind of gal, and I sure as hell didn’t have the stomach for torture. If that happ
ened, I was out of there. I don’t care what Knoxe said.
Glowing chains on the mothman’s wrists and neck bound it to the wall. The creature fought against them with all his might, yanking so hard it bruised his arms. Mandibles on his mouth vibrated together, emitting a higher-pitched cry.
Knoxe held a translator device in his palm. “Tell me where the vampire coven is.”
The mothman chittered a reply, which the device interpreted. “What coven? I crossed to the Sapphire Planet in search of silver.”
The Sapphire Planet was what the gantii realms referred to as Earth because of all the blue oceans. From my knowledge of the gantii, the Guild traded silver with some realms for spells, protection, healing and the age-old manufacture of jewels. In the mothman’s case, they used silver to generate light to ward off vampires.
I pressed my hand harder to my face admiring his ability to formulate such a smart excuse from the gantii. But that didn’t explain why its saliva was found near vampire goo in the cemetery. This interrogation wasn’t going to be easy. The mothman was hiding something. I could feel it in my bones. Call it my supergirl senses.
As if we were on the same wavelength, Knoxe asked the same question.
The mothman cowered. Hackles on the top of its head and back of its neck rose. “I visited no such place.”
Knoxe bashed his fist against the cell. “Don’t lie.”
The mothman clacked its mandibles in protest.
Pascal curled his back, rocking, pressing his fist to his chin. The confrontation upset him.
“Maybe you should go,” I suggested to him but he shook his head.
Raze gently pushed past Knoxe to stand in front of him. “The spirits say the Star Man is hiding something.”
The mothman came as close to the edge of the cell as possible. “We all hide something, Marra Wugal.” It lifted its mandibles like a dog sniffing the breeze.
We all stared at Raze. What the hell did that mean? His neck flushed, and he backed away.
“Enough with the games.” Knoxe unfastened the ribbon on the interrogation kit to reveal knives, wands, and other things I didn’t recognize. “We have ways to make you talk gantii.”
The mothman snapped its jaws at him.
My stomach crunched.
Tor glanced at me with a furrowed brow and mouthed the words, “You okay, Supergirl,” and I shook my head.
Raze’s hands outstretched. “Knoxe, let me talk to my elders. They’ll know how to get an answer from the Star Man without the means you speak of.”
“No.” Knoxe selected a device, handed Tor the kit, and unlocked the cell.
When he entered and approached the mothman, it swung its arm, knocking him into the iron bars, which burned brown marks into the back of his uniform. The device clattered to the ground, and the mothman stomped on it, crushing it.
I gasped. “Knoxe?”
He got to his feet and charged, punching the mothman in the jaw. The gantii crashed into the wall at the back of the cell. Green blood dripped from a wound on his face. It cowered at Knoxe’s feet, using his arms and wings to shield himself.
My stomach coiled. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” Knoxe hit the Mothman again with a savage blow to the back of his head. “We need answers, and he’s not talking.”
Pascal backed away and hurried out of the prisoner detainment facility.
The gantii huddled in a protective ball, raising the pitch of his twittering, high and terrified.
“Knoxe.” Raze entered the cell and grabbed him by the wrist.
Knoxe glared at Raze with crazed eyes as he kicked the frightened and defenseless Mothman as if to show him who was in charge.
“No.” A thickness settled in my throat, and I paced the length of the cell. “Stop.”
“Supergirl.” Tor grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me away from the door, standing in front of me as if to block my view.
“No.” I wrestled to get free, jerking so hard, I stumbled forward, my hand hitting the glowing blue cell bars. My skin hissed as the magic sizzled.
“Knoxe, let the elders handle this,” Raze pleaded. “They’ll venture with the Dinbana Wugal in the spirit world and find the answers you seek.”
“We don’t have time,” Knoxe shouted, landing another blow.
“Don’t do this, Knoxe,” I said, my voice choked. “Please. We’ll find another way.”
His desire to avenge Jaz fueled his violence. This could only end one way—with Knoxe hating himself when he realized what he’d done.
Pascal quickly returned with a new translation device.
“Please, stop,” a voice blared from it. The mothman. “The Karvosh have stolen my family. If I do not obey, they will kill them.”
I clutched my shirt over my heart as if I could stop the ache inside my chest. We had to find the family and return them. Then maybe the gantii might be more cooperative with answers to where the veil portal and vamp nest was located.
“Liar.” Knoxe’s boot found the Mothman’s head, and he screamed.
That was it. He’d gone too far. My magic swelled along with my anger. I glanced at my glowing hands, surprised it worked in here. Weaker than normal, but still active. Permissible for use torture? Who knew? I traced a pattern in my hand of a protective barrier, and a dull replica flashed into existence, guarding the Mothman.
Knoxe rolled his shoulders and fingered different magic runes in the air, a spell of some sort to counteract my effort. He let off a blast of power that sailed through the bars and thrust me into the wall behind me.
Tor, Raze, and Pascal all jumped in front of me defensively.
“Don’t test me, Nomical, or I’ll send you to another team,” Knoxe snarled. “I hear Devon is fond of you.”
Bastard. I’d used magic against other gantii to protect myself, but only when attacked first. But this creature was in a cell, injured now, and he posed no threat to us. Unless trembling somehow becomes a danger to others.
“None of this is going to bring Jaz back!” Harsh, yes. Necessary, also yes.
We locked gazes. Sparks of hatred flew between us. I didn’t give a damn what he thought. Didn’t need his approval. I wasn’t going to let him hurt the gantii.
“Shut your mouth.” Red rimmed his eyes. “You don’t know the first thing about Jaz or me.” He moved to the back of the cell, facing away, leaning an arm on the wall and his head on the arm.
“I know you’re dedicated to your team,” I said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t listen to all those self-help books.” Pushing my luck.
“There’s no team without Jaz.”
Tor and Raze exchanged a glance.
“That’s not true,” I reminded him. “Your team cares for you. But you’re pushing them away. Like you’re doing to me.”
Knoxe spun around, his fist curled and ready to deliver and another blow to the gantii. “You don’t know dick!”
“I know you.” I pumped as much magic as I could to my hands. “And I know you’re not going to hurt this creature.”
“Try me.” He stretched back his fist.
I flung a blast at him, dissolving his hands.
“What the fuck did you do to me?”
“Stopped you from hurting yourself.”
“Whoa, Supergirl!” Tor clapped.
“Shut up, Tor,” Pascal said.
“Give me back my damn hands,” Knoxe snarled.
I stepped as close to the bars as I could. “Not until you come with me to find his family.”
Chapter 26
Raze
Imposter. Fake. Liar. No one knew what I was hiding. That I shouldn’t have been at the Guardians. I didn’t belong. Had a secret I had kept all my life, even more so when I’d joined the Guild. It was the reason I kept to myself. Didn’t make friends in the Guardians. Barely said a word to anyone outside of my immediate family and tribe. They all knew who I really was. My mother’s people, the indigenous tribe of Australia, kept my secret.
Protected me.
I didn’t belong to this world any more than I belonged to the other. Half-breed they called me. An abomination to my father’s culture. A tainting of the blood line. But in this world my people called me Marra Wugul. Star Walker. One who crossed worlds.
I had to figure out an excuse to stick around after everyone left the holding cells. But the team lingered, and my pulse kicked up its pace. Munyara, I couldn’t leave without it.
Three ancestors hovered in my vicinity, all watching me with wide eyes, deep concern etched into their expressions.
They all pointed at the mothman. “Protect him,” they warned.
They’d delivered me prophecy before. The first time they’d spoken to me, they’d told me a great storm would come, and the wind would blow off our roof. It happened just as they foretold and caused great destruction in the rest of my village. They’d also warned me of the Bunyip demon approaching. But I’d been too preoccupied to prevent the kidnap of our Munyara tribal totem.
“Raze, Tor,” Knoxe growled, staring at his dissolved arms, now nothing more than a puddle at his feet.
“Sorry, buddy,” Tor responded first. “You’re gonna have to wait until your hands grow back.”
A fortunate circumstance. For a moment, I feared Knoxe might kill the mothman and take us all down with him.
Tor turned to Astra. “They’ll grow back won’t they, Supergirl?”
She smiled like she had a secret.
Tor rubbed his chin and mouth. “Ah, Knoxe, you’re stepping on your arms there, buddy.”
“Screw you.” Knoxe splashed in the water under his boots.
Tor raised his hands in the air in defeat.
I smiled. Most of the time, Tor was an immature idiot. But occasionally, he came out with some pearls.
“Give me my damn hands back.” Knoxe scowled at Astra.
“Sorry, no can do,” she replied. “I can undo you chemically, but I can’t put you back together.”
An incredible power. One that could get her time in The Hole for using it on Knoxe, even though he deserved it. She’d calmed him, kept the prisoner safe before Knoxe could do something he would regret.