by C A Ardron
‘Yes,’ Falcon replied after a second, her voice detached.
Tiger grinned again. Falcon’s calm, often unemotional way of speaking was perfect in this situation.
‘And your medallion turned silver?’ The young man pressed, his eyes wide.
Falcon turned her head to look at him and he straightened, looking nervous. Tiger thought she might be nervous too if she was meeting her for the first time. Falcon was taller in her silver armour and her face beneath the Avian mask was serious, even severe.
‘Yes,’ Falcon replied once more. She turned to Hawk before any more questions could be asked. ‘We should continue.’
‘Yeah, of course,’ Hawk replied.
Tiger bit her lip, holding back her giggle as she saw him trying to unsuccessfully hold back his mischievous grin.
Falcon shot back into the sky abruptly and Hawk shrugged, gave everyone a wave and followed her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
White Dove stepped through the front entrance of the Predgarian Centre, sighing wearily. She was tired, everything that had happened so far, not to mention the amount of healing she'd needed to perform, had left her not weak exactly, but definitely tired.
She headed through the door to the left of the high reception desk and hesitated in the hallway to deactivate her medallion. As the brilliant light faded from her she listened intently. It was very quiet, the others must have already left to go locate an entrance to the Sarpien tunnels.
Idly, she sent out a small aura sweep, immediately picking up Lion's presence. She smiled to herself, he was no doubt taking the time to catch up on his paperwork.
Dove headed upstairs, not yet seeking her captain out. She felt in sore need of a shower and a change of clothes. She briefly visited her room and picked out a pair of neat, pale blue jeans and a white blouse. She stopped as she caught her own tired expression in the mirror.
She steeled herself against what was coming. Dove knew this day was far from over, and when she reached out her mind tentatively, trying to obtain some hint of the near future, she could feel a horrible pressure, as if there was something huge and malevolent looming over her. She inhaled deeply, relaxing her concentration and the awful presence dissipated.
Even as Dove showered, her mind reeled from what she had felt. It frightened her, knowing that no Sarpien, not even the mighty Red Jackal, could generate such a towering presence.
When she returned to her room, now refreshed and in a new set of clothes, she briefly ran a towel through her wet hair. Another gentle sweep told her that Lion was still in the building but then she frowned, for the first time realising exactly where in the Centre he was.
‘What are you doing down there?’ She muttered.
Dove left her room and descended the creaky stairs. She turned and started to walk down the simple corridor until she came to a darkened passageway. Glancing up at the light bulb she raised her hand to the light switch. She pressed it down and sighed when nothing happened. This one always seemed to be broken.
Unperturbed, Dove strode down the passage until she reached the doorway situated halfway along it. She pulled down on the metal handle and opened the door, looking down the stone steps in front of her. They were lit dimly by a light in the room below.
Dove quietly descended the steps, halting at the entrance to the basement, looking about her. The single bulb lighting the room was old and buzzed intermittently.
She heard some rustling and navigated the thin, metal shelves which made small, narrow aisles. They were all crammed full of cardboard boxes filled with files.
Dove finally found Lion on the third aisle. He was knelt on the floor, rummaging through a box of paper. She smiled as she noticed his worn jeans, they looked even worse than usual covered in years of dust.
Her captain hadn't noticed her yet so she watched him a while longer. He was fully intent on whatever it was he sought and Dove couldn't help smiling at him. He was so handsome when he was concentrating.
‘Ryan?’ She asked, drawing his attention.
Lion jerked and Dove felt his surprise at someone being there and the shock of his real name being used.
Perhaps she shouldn't have scared him, but she loved the wide-eyed expression which crossed his face right before he got a hold of himself.
Lion looked up at her and smiled. ‘Michelle, you startled me.’
She felt the thrill of him using her name. She was happy they were close enough to have exchanged such personal information. Dove schooled her face to calm, not wanting her captain to know how happy it made her. ‘What are you doing lurking down here?’ She asked, attempting to take the focus off of herself.
‘I am not lurking!’ His eyes narrowed, ‘You're smirking.’
She raised an eyebrow, continuing her placid act. ‘Am I?’
‘Yes.’ He got up off the floor, trying to brush the dust off his jeans. ‘I was just looking through some old files.’
Dove looked around at the boxes surrounding them. ‘Ryan, some of these files are more than eight years old.’
‘I know...I was hoping to find something.’
‘Find what?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know, something about Falcon perhaps, from back when she was a Sarpien.’
Dove frowned, looking down at the files he'd left on the floor. She extended one hand and the file closest to her floated upwards. She picked it out of the air and opened the simple card folder, taking out the documents and skimming through the headings.
‘It’s a bit of a lost cause, isn’t it?’ She asked. ‘Unless you knew her Sarpien name, you’d never track her down. Anyway, these files are about West Sector, and she told us she'd never worked in Steiron.’
‘If she was telling us the truth.’
‘There was no dishonesty in her,’ Dove told him. Her voice came out sharper than intended. She smiled, trying to soften her words. ‘I'm sorry, Ryan, but I think we have to accept her as she is.’
‘Why do you trust her so much?’ Lion asked. ‘it strikes me as more than just sympathy for what the Sarpiens did to her.’
‘Isn't that why you've been willing to help her?’ Dove asked, skirting the issue smoothly. She could tell Lion the reason, but it would've been unfair to Falcon.
She replaced the papers in the file and handed it to him. He put it back in the box where he'd first found it.
‘I do want to help her,’ he confirmed. ‘I can't stand the thought of what the Sarpiens do to ordinary people.’
Dove's mouth twitched. Falcon was far from ordinary, but Lion would find that out for himself, probably before the day was done.
‘I'm concerned, Michelle. She's dangerous, I saw her armour before she left, she has a claw.’
‘That's not surprising, Ryan,’ she replied. ‘We must expect her fighting style to be more direct than ours. Sarpien and Dakkonin birds of prey almost always have claws.’ She met his eyes seriously, picking up his feelings. ‘what's really bothering you?’
Lion laughed unhappily. ‘You always see straight through me. I'm not happy with General Jaguar's orders. I know Falcon has nothing to do with that, but...’
‘You can't question the general so you use Falcon as an outlet for your frustration.’
Lion looked at her angrily. ‘I'd never do that!’
She gestured around them with her hands. ‘Yet here you are in the basement, trying to find an excuse to take her medallion away.’
Lion looked uncertain. ‘Jaguar told me to keep this from the council in Predgariah. Is that really a good order, Michelle?’
Dove thought about that. It was the first time he'd mentioned it - no wonder he was worried. ‘Possibly not,’ she conceded, ‘but I understand why he's done it.’
His face turned angry again. ‘Explain it to me, then, Because hiding a walking dead from the council sounds like a discharge waiting to happen.’
‘Lives are at stake. Jaguar knows the council won't accept Falcon as a Predgarian. He also knows how much good Falc
on could do and how much damage she could cause the Sarpiens.’
Lion stared at her, having nothing to say.
‘Ryan,’ she said, her eyes warm. ‘You've known Jaguar since you were a child. Do you really think he'd make a decision like this without good cause?’
‘I'd like to think not,’ he told her, not meeting her eyes. ‘But none of us really know anything about Falcon. Do you think she might change her mind about staying?’
‘I don't know,’ Dove admitted. ‘I hope so, she's done well by herself so far, but she puts herself in unnecessary danger by staying alone.’
Lion nodded, ‘I agree. My worries aside, I'd like her to stay. If there really are Black Emissaries after her, then she needs all the help she can get. How did your visit to the Pharollin go?’
Dove's eyes became distant, remembering her time at the agency. ‘Let's go back upstairs,’ she told him, evading the question for now. ‘I think I'd like a cup of tea while I tell you what happened.’
Lion nodded and they left the basement, all the while, Dove trying to gather her thoughts.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dove sat down at the kitchen table when Lion went to the kettle. She smiled at his back, watching him prepare her tea. He was so nice to her.
She rested her arms on the table as she waited for him to finish. He brought two cups of steaming tea to the table a few minutes later. Dove noticed he'd taken his tea black, she always had milk in her tea. She looked down at the milky drink, knowing Lion would have added two small spoonfuls of sugar for her.
The smell of it reminded her of the cafe. Falcon had been so focused, so determined. Dove had been relieved when she'd said she would return to the Centre with her. To get through to the Unician, she'd had no choice but to try and get under her skin, to make her feel all those emotions she'd been trying to hide away from. It had been a gamble, Falcon could well have refused or become angry.
‘What's on your mind?’ Lion asked as he sat across from her. ‘Did the Pharollin refuse to help?’
Dove's mouth tightened, she wasn't ready to tell him yet, didn't want to admit certain things.
‘I was wondering if it's possible to change Falcon's mind about leaving,’ she said instead.
Lion frowned thoughtfully. ‘We can't force her to stay. Even if we could, I don't think locking her in a room until she changed her mind would really endear us to her.’
Dove smiled at the thought. ‘No, if indeed she could be locked in a room against her will.’
‘I don't see why not, without her medallion-’
‘Don't underestimate her,’ Dove told him. ‘I have strong suspicions she can use some of her abilities without a medallion.’
‘Yes,’ Lion agreed. ‘You mentioned that before, but telepathy won't be much use to her in a locked room.’
Dove thought that Falcon perhaps had more to fall back on than just telepathy, but decided to hold her tongue. ‘Do you really intend to lock her up?’
Lion sighed and ran one hand though his long hair. ‘Probably not, it would only damage any relations between us, possibly permanently. Anyway, there's nowhere in the Centre that's designed for detaining people. If Falcon really used to be an Elite Sarpien, I'm guessing a normal locked room wouldn't hold her for very long.’
Dove smiled sadly. ‘All we can do is wait and see what happens. I'm hoping the amount of years she's spent in the world has given her enough wisdom to choose the right path.’
Lion looked a little sceptical. ‘Her years in the world? You don't think she was serious about being older than Hawk, do you? That's unlikely.’
‘Why?’ Dove asked, a glimmer of a smirk coming to her lips.
‘Well,’ Lion floundered, trying to come up with a good answer. ‘She looks...she can't be much older than me.’
‘How old am I?’
Lion dropped his gaze to the table. ‘Point taken. Anyway,’ he said. ‘About the Pharollin, do we have our diversion?’
Dove smiled briefly, not missing his hurried change of subject. She leant back in her chair, gazing up at the ceiling, wondering how much of what had happened to tell him.
***
Dove stepped through an oval portal as clear as glass. It's crystalline surface shimmered and wrapped around her as she stepped through.
She gazed up at the glowing white and blue pillars on the other side. They reached up to a ceiling sheathed in electricity.
She strode across the pristine cream tiles, trying to ignore the echoing sound of her footsteps. She doubted that even a stealthed warrior could make it across this hall without announcing their presence.
Dove flapped her large wings once to try to dispel the uncomfortable feeling the portal had given them.
She didn't hesitate as she passed through the marble archway leading to the Pharollin agency's reception. She glanced at a white plaque on the wall, rimmed with gold. Pharollin agencies had many different reception desks within the same building. They dealt with a variety of different subjects.
After assuring herself that she was in the right place, she stepped up to the desk, noting the ornate door to her left.
The Pharollin sat there appeared young, though there was no way to tell. Dove glanced momentarily at the Avian's deep blue wings. Oddly, Dove felt at ease. She knew most people felt uncomfortable in the presence of the Pharollin, they were the most political minded organisation on Courin. Every time she saw the wings of a Pharollin though, it made her happy. She smiled, remembering the words of one of her old tutors from years past. This world is ever changing, my dear, but there are two things that shall always remain. As fish are found in the sea, so always shall the Darphon, and while there is still the sky above us, so shall the Pharollin always fly.
Dove had discovered the truth of that. There hadn't been a Pharollin warrior without an Avian medallion for over five hundred years.
The woman in her light blue armour smiled politely but Dove could feel her wariness. She stopped herself from sighing. It was always the way, the Pharollin were suspicious of each other, let alone any strangers. There was a closer, tight-knit friendship to be found in the Predgarians that Dove felt set them apart from any other Order.
Dove stepped up to the desk. ‘May I have the honour of knowing to whom it is I speak?’
‘I am Blue Swift, a law-holder of Phoenicia, and you?’
Dove was quite surprised. She wouldn't have thought a Phoenician law-holder would ever be found behind a desk in Steiron. She was perhaps just standing in for a someone.
‘I am White Dove, a representative from the West Sector Predgarian unit.’
Dove could clearly feel Swift's surprise.
‘You know our ways well, White Dove, from your words I assumed you were Pharollin.’
Dove decided to get straight to the point. ‘I need to see someone of authority quite urgently. I assume the area commander is in his office?’
Dove saw Swift glance at the ornate door. At a second glance she saw the carvings in the wood were mostly scrolls and feathers all mingled together with two outstretched bird's wings taking up most of the top panel.
‘Yes.’ Swift said, ‘but he won’t thank you for interrupting him. He’s very busy.’
‘I won't keep him long,’ Dove promised with a friendly smile.
She felt the Pharollin's conflicting emotions. The blue warrior clearly didn't want to allow her through. Dove understood her dilemma perfectly. No matter how busy the commander might be, she couldn't turn away a representative from another Order, especially if they said their request was urgent.
‘You might as well let me through,’ Dove told her, keeping her voice mild. ‘Then the commander can decide whether he wants to offend my Order or not.’
Swift stared at her with a tight frown on her face.
Dove merely smiled, even if Swift had found the gentle threat in her words, she couldn't accuse her of a single thing.
Swift nodded her agreement tersely and Dove turned towards the door before she
could change her mind. She knocked lightly on the sturdy oak panel and went in.
Dove was barely two steps onto snow-white carpet when she violently kicked herself for not performing an aura sweep before she entered. On the peripheral of her vision she became aware of the two paintings on the wall, one of a mountain range, the other a lake at sunset. She perhaps subconsciously noticed the ostentatious bronze desk and the matching ornate chair behind it, padded with red velvet. Almost every bit of her focus however, was directed at the area commander.
The tall man had his back to her, giving Dove an unimpeded view of his wings. The blue flames flickered and undulated under tight control.
A lump rose in Dove's throat as he turned, revealing his pale blond hair. He'd never owned a mask or helm, he'd never needed one.
‘I'm busy, warrior,’ he told her. ‘Come back later.’
Dove remained where she was, unable to find her voice. The commander raised one eyebrow at her stationary form.
She knew she had no choice. Lion needed the Pharollin's aid, no matter the cost. So she took her white medallion in one hand, and broke the rules.
The Commander's face changed to astonishment as the light faded from around her. ‘Michelle!’ He rushed to hug her, abandoning his dignity. ‘Why haven’t you been in touch?’
Dove still hadn't found her voice. She could feel his happiness clearly and that made her feel a bit better. She'd been worried for years now that he hated her.
‘I've been busy,’ she replied, knowing it was a terrible excuse.
The commander looked angry. ‘You've been too busy to contact your own family?’
Dove swallowed. She didn't meet his gaze but looked instead at his medallion. Even against his mid-class blue breastplate it stood out. The large bird in the centre had its flaming wings outstretched, taking up most of the coin which was almost twice the size of hers.
The commander turned away, gesturing to a cabinet. ‘Do you want something to drink?’ He took a glass and crystal decanter out of the cabinet to his left.
‘Blue Phoenix.’
Blue didn't look at her but his shoulders hunched at her formal tone.