The shack. Myndra. My jaw dropped, but luckily, Bravi and Laini were looking at the prison now.
“Our last stop…” Bravi frowned. Deep grief brimmed just beneath the surface of her stern face. “The prison. It was necessary to construct, unfortunately. We keep Myndra there, for now.”
“You found her?” Dorian asked. We already knew that, but of course we couldn’t explain how. This was just the first of many necessary steps to cover up our lies, and I couldn’t help feeling guilty about it.
The prison held a gloomier aura than any other building, naturally. A metal door required a key to open, the lock shaped like a hotel card reader. Bravi pulled a card out of her pocket but hesitated at the entrance.
“Another of Reshi’s inventions. She listened to the Bureau engineer and combined everything she’d heard about the security measures of the sanitarium. It requires a certain maker’s ward—her mark—to unlock. We gave Sabal a key to visit her sister, but things are fairly bleak inside,” Bravi explained. “There are five other ex-revenants. We removed their stones, but…”
My stomach clenched uneasily. “They’re mentally broken?” It was an easy enough guess, after what we’d seen Kreya go through. Taking the gem out of the vampire unfortunately couldn’t undo the damage that the Immortal Council worked on them. It made me sick. My hands curled into fists at my sides.
“Prepare yourself,” Laini warned softly. “We had to safeguard ourselves, but we took care of them as best as we could.”
Bravi inserted the keycard. The lock disengaged, and she pushed the door open with a forceful movement. I tested the weight of it against my arm as we walked into the building. It was impressively heavy. Without a card, there would likely be no escape unless one blew the building to pieces.
Cold air hit me as we walked down a long corridor. It looked bigger than it did from the outside, but perhaps it was the dark building materials which gave the illusion. Ruk glared at the sight of cell bars but said nothing.
Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the dim light. Only small lanterns lit the building on the inside, casting a soft glow over the cells that swam into my vision. It smelled of stale air and a strong, astringent odor I couldn’t place, probably from cleaning.
The first cells contained two wounded hunters. They’d been bandaged up, but they were shackled to the wall. The cuffs around their arms appeared to be another Reshi design, based on her vampire gauntlet technology. It would likely prevent the hunters from performing any magic tricks. The Coalition had also blindfolded any revenants who still had gems in their foreheads and placed black, headphone-like devices over their ears to muffle their hearing.
“They can sense when we come in, but it’s important they don’t hear,” Bravi muttered. “The ones we removed the gems from are still blindfolded… They seem to be overwhelmed by their vision. I’m hoping a gradual fasting of dark energy helps them.”
I wanted to ask her what she meant, but the next cell contained a revenant. A male vampire slumped against the bars. He was chained, blindfolded, and had his forehead bandaged cleanly. He snarled and bit at the bars while we passed.
“His gem was ripped out by a maker before I could stop him,” Laini said mournfully. “Reshi wants to save a few for research, but we think it might be too dangerous.” Think? I remembered Irrikus’s face as he stared at the screen of revenants in the Mortal Plane. He could have eyes in the Immortal Plane too, but I hadn’t seen it.
The conditions were as humane as possible, as far as violent supernatural prisoners went. They weren’t being tortured, contrary to how we were treated in the sanitarium. Bravi assured me that Reshi thought her special blindfolds, which involved maker magic, could hide the signature from tracking, since she was relentless in testing her devices. It sounded as if she worked through some nights.
“The only problem is that we don’t know if they’re seeing through the gems, or how it works,” she explained. “The healers come in every day to make sure they’re healthy, but we try to take a distant approach with the prisoners. We don’t want to reveal any information by accident.” From the tension stitched across her brow, I wondered if this was a contentious subject at their democratic meetings.
The next two revenants were catatonic. They didn’t bite at the bars but huddled in corners. Even if they’d lacked blindfolds, I imagined that they would still be blankly staring into the stone walls. We kept walking.
As we passed another cell, a female vampire launched herself at us. Her hands were stopped from reaching more than a few inches through the bars, blocked by some sort of invisible forcefield. She hissed and fought the magic. Bravi grunted as the prisoner battered her hand against the cell bars.
“Don’t hurt yourself more.” She gave a pitying shake of her head. “This one, we have to keep healing. She keeps trying to attack us. We’ve been trying to limit visitors to avoid setting her off, but at least Sabal’s constant visits don’t seem to bother her anymore.” Bravi’s trying her best to take care of them, even when they’re like this. I admired her compassion for her kin. We all wanted to believe that the revenants might be redeemable. I hoped we found a way to bring them back from their terrible fate.
Laini sighed. “It’s been difficult. The healers, vampire and wildling alike, have been working with the makers to craft spells for their containment. We’ve also been trying to work on using the gems against the controllers. It’s been more difficult than we expected. It’s impossible to trace the gems back to the rulers. We learned the names ‘Milva’ and ‘Noxin’ from Izelde. She turned back quickly during our fight, after realizing she wasn’t going to catch up with you on the redbill, and let those names slip before we killed her, but that was it. We have no idea how many controllers there are, and knowing their names doesn’t help much.”
I fought the urge to blurt out the answer. Instead, I looked at Dorian, but he was carefully avoiding my eyes. We’d seen a dozen in the Immortal Council’s control room. God, there was so much I wanted to tell them. Surely, we could tell them something.
“We learned more while we were away,” I said vaguely. Sen said nothing, so I hoped she was happy with the answer. All I have to do is make sure not to reveal the existence of the Higher Plane.
Bravi pressed on. “Good, because we know virtually nothing. We couldn’t even get the location of the controllers out of Izelde. I don’t think she knew. It seems like the council is busy making plans, and the rulers had stationed her at the camp for a while.” The green glass castle swam into my thoughts. I fought a disturbed shudder, blaming the drafty prison.
From behind Bravi, I saw a fraction of what the last cell contained. Or rather, who.
Sabal sat beside the bars, stroking Myndra’s hand. Myndra sat inside her cell, moaning and muttering to herself mindlessly.
“I found her,” Sabal whispered. There was no exchange of greetings. She looked exhausted, completely distraught by her sister’s condition. Although I was never close to either of them, even I recognized the strength of their bond. They were two sides of a coin. I can’t imagine having to watch Zach go through something like that. I wanted to hear his voice again. His ability to bring a touch of humor to all these somber moments was something I dearly missed.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Dorian asked gently. Sen peered over my shoulder into the cell. She said nothing, but a disturbed shadow fell across her face.
“I caught a hunter scout near the camp, after we took it,” she relayed hoarsely. Her eyes misted over as she rubbed her sister’s hand. “I drained that scout near death. Luckily, he was a senate scout. I saw her in his blood, so in a way he offered up her location as Itzarriol. I knew it was foolish… I knew it was like walking into a den of wolves, but I couldn’t leave her behind.” Her voice broke for a beat. “I saw the green monstrosity of a building and knew that was where my sister was. I called to her. I found her without her controller one night and lured her out. She recognized me even with all that darkness in her mind.”
>
She’d made herself into a homing beacon. More than that, she’d been lucky. She’d gone to Itzarriol and back before the hunters attacked the training camp; it must have killed her to learn she’d been so close, only to walk away. She was willing to put herself in danger for her sister at any cost. She’d been so desperate to be reunited with her sister that she was willing to lure Myndra to her, even if it meant a controller following in her wake. And yet, I completely understood. I’d do the same for Zach. Irrikus couldn’t understand the strong bond between siblings. I was sure that at some level, even Sabal realized that her sister might never recover… and yet, she still fought to bring her back.
“I overpowered her and restrained her, then dragged her back to the camp. I spent the whole time dodging hunter patrols, when I wasn’t fighting Myndra.” She lovingly looked at her sister, despite the painful memories. “I’m keeping a close eye on her, now. She’s been the number one test subject for deconditioning… but it’s slow work. We removed the excess darkness from her body, but her soul is still darker than most vampires’, and that means she’s not safe. Everyone wants to snack on her if they get too close.”
Sabal looked up at us, sadness filling her eyes. “She’s not right in the head. Myndra’s connection with Sempre was broken, but it seems another controller took over in his stead. She might be doubly damaged, but the healers aren’t sure.” A single tear rolled down her cheek as Myndra hissed at our group. She couldn’t see us, but she could hear us.
No one deserved this. I was speechless, my tongue heavy and clumsy in my mouth. I couldn’t think of a single word to say; nothing I could say or do would help these sisters right now. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ruk clench his jaw with rage. Irrikus had mangled Aurora as well, and Ruk had only just healed her. This must have felt like more of the same, loved ones broken, separated, hurting, grieving. And it would go on, until Irrikus lay dead at our feet.
Myndra clung to Sabal’s hand despite her cruel hissing. For a moment, I thought back to that first vision of Kreya being studied in the Bureau. The Bureau would be trying to heal Kreya by their own measures as well, but I doubted any of us were making the headway we desired in terms of recovery of the revenants. We needed to find the controllers to make any real change—if change was still possible.
Bravi covertly pressed the comm in her ear. “Sabal, I’m sorry. We’re being called to the war room. Everyone is gathering. We can send someone to relieve your watch, if you’d like. You should get some sleep.”
Sabal shook her head. “I’ll stay.” With heavy hearts, we left her. The prison fell away behind me, but its presence haunted me. I couldn’t shake the awful horror and grief over what Irrikus and the Immortal Council had done to its inhabitants. Sen was especially quiet as we walked. She remarked on nothing and kept her gaze straight ahead.
It felt as if a storm cloud hung over our heads.
“I know that was heavy, but you’ll have to put on a brave face for the troops,” Bravi said. She pointed to a square building of modest size: our destination. She was right. We needed to get ready to face our friends, whom we had left without explanation, and I wanted to deliver a story that respected the Mandate while honoring our relationships with these people.
“Our war room,” Laini said proudly as we entered it. Most of the space was full of benches arranged around a circular table, behind which was a fireplace. The room teemed with people. The chattering crowd fell silent as we walked in. Maps and scrolls were pinned to the walls around us.
Kono grinned as he walked up, still nursing his side slightly. “I’m happy to know that you’re back in the fight with us.” I smiled right back, happy to see him alive and healthy, though a tad wounded from our battle. “That was intense. I’ve never fought invisible enemies before.”
“You fled and brought back invisible hunters with you,” Arlonne called waspishly from the front of the room. “It is good to see you again, but I hoped it would be under better circumstances.” She gave us a nod of recognition, but I understood her frustration. Arlonne, of all people, felt honor-bound to issues of battle. Her reaction stung my feelings of guilt, but her anger was justified. Principled warriors didn’t just leave battles in the midst of the action.
“I promise we have a story to tell,” I told her. She lifted her chin to meet my gaze squarely.
“I look forward to hearing it.”
Charrek, the maker from Juneau’s old household, stood from his seat next to Arlonne. He bent his head. “Dorian and Lyra, it’s wonderful to see you alive and well. I knew destiny favored you, but we still feared the worst.”
“I’m sorry we gave you cause to worry,” Dorian said, his voice heavy with regret.
Bravi gestured to the table. “Generals and team leaders, feel free to gather. We don’t have all day.” She clapped her hands. The table was only halfway full, despite figures mingling on the sides of the room. Reshi sat next to Charrek. Bravi gestured for us to stand beside the table.
Sen stood next to me. I bit my lip, worried but hoping this would go over well enough. Ruk looked rested, though edgy, as he stood on the other side of Dorian. Just then, Juneau made a dramatic entrance and let out a delighted gasp upon spotting us.
“The fates have blessed us,” he gushed, and began to wind himself up for a longer tirade of poetic niceties.
Bravi cut him short. “Jovial reunions after we get our explanation. We need to do this quickly, since we have repairs to make.” Juneau buttoned his trap and settled in a chair next to Laini. Linus, the passionate vampire researcher, smiled pleasantly at us. He must have been here as a head of research, like Reshi.
Reshi gestured to two new figures at the table who I didn’t recognize. “I’d like to introduce our other hardworking generals. We’re very lucky that they joined us after they escaped from Itzarriol.”
Lex was head of logistics and supplies. He’d been a scholar and a supplier for a prominent but abusive ruler in Itzarriol. He was a maker of short stature, with leathery skin the color of amber. He waved at us, flexing strong muscles in the process.
The other was named Hilt. She was a tall, lithe female wildling with hair that hung like seaweed from her scalp. She looked amphibious, with light green scales on her long, pearly arms. She turned out to be an expert smuggler, imprisoned in the sanitarium for smuggling refugees breaking their ruler contracts. Now, she handled the processing of newcomers.
“Normally, our meetings are opened in a more informal process,” Bravi said. Her confident tilt and tone cut off the remaining whispers. “But let’s begin, now that we’ve gathered all our team leaders.” I scanned the tightly packed benches. Some faces looked familiar, but most were new. Hard lines settled in many weary faces. I sucked in a breath for courage. We need to find a way to win back their trust.
Everyone looked at us and our new companions. Ruk and Sen, for their part, wore composed expressions. They might look too at ease. It might make them seem completely unsympathetic and therefore untrustworthy to our allies.
“We’ve brought back powerful allies,” Dorian stated. “And we have information that will aid the war with the Immortal Council. It could be a way to stop Irrikus, finally.”
Someone from the back, a smaller maker, spoke out of turn. “They said you might be dead! What happened to you?”
“You know how to stop Irrikus?” Juneau blurted.
Linus gave a skeptical sigh. “What technology do these companions of yours possess, which gives off such strange energy?”
“Enough,” Bravi commanded firmly. Her stony gaze silenced everyone. “Let them speak. You know the rules.”
A murmur of begrudging agreement passed through the room. I cleared my throat.
“Yes, well, we are alive,” I said and gestured awkwardly to myself in the flesh. “We know many of you are confused about what happened, but we’ll do our best to explain.”
The story came tumbling out.
9
Lyra
We
had to spin myth and reality together, avoiding the issue of the Higher Plane but otherwise trying to keep to the truth. Dorian introduced Ruk as the Gate Maker, the legendary creature. Ruk gave a mock bow, which Bravi cocked an eyebrow at, but she listened intently. Did she think our new friends were too strange?
We explained that Sen was another of Ruk’s kind.
“It all started with the sanitarium and then our trek through the Restless Desert…” I began. The hardest part was circling back to the first lie we’d told, which I hated admitting to our closest companions in front of strangers. Dorian and I apologized profusely to our friends, explaining that Ruk had been with us during the second mission in the Immortal Plane the entire time. It felt odd to admit a lie while spinning several more like a spider’s web, but the group just took in everything as we fed it to them.
In this tale, he’d taken us to another continent in the Immortal Plane. We tripped over one another with bits and pieces, excited to share, but it felt like I was running on ice. One wrong move could lead to catastrophe.
Guilt laced my every word. We did our best to tell the truth, while Bravi stepped in to stop the questions firing off. People were skeptical and confused, to say the least. It was only thanks to our reputation that Dorian and I could stand up there at all.
I glanced at Sen’s face from the corner of my eye to watch her expression as we told them what happened. She remained calm throughout, clearly pleased enough that we hadn’t mentioned the Higher Plane. Her air was light, as if she were amused that we had cooked up such a story with no time to prepare.
Our friends and allies were upset, with good reason. I saw surprise and disbelief flicker through the crowd. Warriors willing to fight against Irrikus deserved the truth, and yet, I couldn’t give that to them. They were unskilled at following Bravi’s directions, though, often earning her fiery glare.
Darklight 7: Darkfall Page 8