Chapter Eleven
~
Mission
Back in the Day Star’s cargo hold, Cinder slowly slid off her bike, barely retaining enough balance to stand. Orphenn steadied her.
She still clutched the device at her neck, wheezing. Orphenn reached behind her to sweep her hair over one shoulder. He saw that blood was seeping from underneath the device’s bolts and rolling down her back.
She tried to gently unhinge the device, but yelped as the action sent agony shooting through her body.
“Cinder! Don’t take it off!” Orphenn urgently whispered.
“The others can’t see.” She pleaded. “They’d be angry….They’d want to do something, to try and help...”
“Why don’t you want help, you freak? You obviously need it! You can’t use any powers with this on, and you can’t take it off!”
“They would insist on going back to ‘teach them a lesson,’ I just know it. They’d want to get even. Before we knew it, all of us would have these around our necks. I don’t want that.” She pulled the zipper on her jacket up all the way, so her collar covered her neck completely. “It feels like a noose.” She complained.
It was late that next morning, yet still dark outside. Here, the clouds always hid away the sun. The land below was nothing but stone and dirt, no fertile soil or vegetation to be found, everything darkened by constant shadow, a dreary gloom. Rain patted the steel siding of the Day Star.
Orphenn went to stand beside Jeremiah at the wheel, staring out through the rain-streaked windshield.
“And it’s still raining here.” Eynochia griped.
“This is….Ardara?” guessed Orphenn.
“Yes.” Jeremiah answered. “These are the wastelands Ardara and her followers were banished to. The castle is nearby.” He yanked a lever, and the airship slowed to a stop.
“Are we here?” Sven interjected, coming to stand by Orphenn.
Jeremiah answered by pointing toward the outside, out across miles of rubble, where Ardara’s castle could be seen in the distance. The tower stood out against the gray clouds. “I can’t take the Day Star any further without being spotted,” he stated, “Cinder, can you port us past the moat?” he asked before realizing that Cinder was absent from the main hold. “Cinder?”
“Ah-aaactually,” Orphenn spoke up, “Cinder isn’t feeling well, she’s resting in her quarters.”
“She’s not feeling well?” Celina voiced. “Since when has that been an excuse?”
“I think she might be really sick.”
“But how-”
“I can easily fly to the castle.”
“I don’t know, Orphenn…”
Xeila interrupted, “I can tell you where to go from there, over intercom, Orphenn. It’ll be easy. If Celina allows it.”
Each face turned to their Commander.
Sven laughed. “Maybe this’ll be good for the kid. Little Bird’s first solo mission.”
Jeremiah flicked a switch on the control panel, extending the airship’s landing gear, and lowered the Day Star gently to the ground. Hovering was wasting all the fuel.
Celina met her brother’s eyes. “Very well.” She sighed. “Be careful, Orphenn.”
Orphenn folded his golden wings, keeping them partly open, at the ready, as he lightly touched down at the other side of the castle’s moat, dew-dropped with rain. “Here.” He announced through his shoulder communicator. “What now?”
“There should be a big pipe coming out of the castle wall.” Xeila replied. Back at the ship, she had a large map spread across the table in front of her, running her fingers along the hand-drawn lines. “You can get in through there. It leads right to the boiler room with a straight shot shortcut to the dungeon. Freeing the prisoners will be easy. The slaves will be more challenging to free. They’re scattered all over the castle. But don’t worry about that much just yet. The main point of this mission is to gather any information you can find.”
“Gotcha.” Orphenn assured, leaping up to flutter along the iron castle wall. He now understood that that must have been what Xeila was doing when she had been in Ardara before, when Dacian had poisoned her. She had mapped the entire castle.
His hand found the siding of the massive drainage pipe, and he swung himself inside, feet landing with a splash. A shallow ribbon of water flowed at the bottom of the pipe. It seemed like miles ahead of him, but Orphenn could see a shaft of orange light escape through the top of the pipe, a splash of gold against the darkness. His feet sloshed through the water as he cautiously advanced down the tunnel-like pipe.
“There should be an open hatch some ways down.” Xeila added. “Fly up through there into the boiler room. Better get your guns ready just in case.”
“Roger.” Orphenn pulled his gold pistol from its holster and cocked it, holding up to his ear in waiting, as he waded on, prepared to shoot down any opposition.
He slowly came into the light, gazing upward through the open hatch above his head. The room beyond was filled with steam and pulsed with humidity, gasses fuming down into the pipe below. He could have sworn that he heard someone screaming, sounds of excruciating pain. But he swallowed down his paranoia. He took a deep breath, and leapt up into the steam.
Knock, knock, knock.
Cinder jolted awake. Hurrying to hide her neck under a checkered black scarf, she answered, hitting the release button, and the hydraulic door hissed as it opened.
“Sven.” Cinder said, regarding the man that leaned against the metal doorframe with weary surprise.
“Hey there Princess.” His muscular arms were folded across his bare chest. “Heard you were sick. You look pale.” He stepped inside, his tone more serious. “Your wings aren’t even hidden. What’s wrong?”
He was right. Her wings sagged, the tips of her straggled feathers sweeping the floor. Her eyes were sunken, darkly circled, and bloodshot, and she shook as she moved, like an elderly woman. She realized now why Ardaran slaves always looked so sickly. “I’m…Just really tired.” She lied. “Where’s Orphenn?”
“He’s inside the castle now. Embarked on his first solo mission. Blimey, he’s grown fast.” Cinder’s face merged from droopy exhaustion to wide-eyed panic, but Sven continued obliviously, “Freein’ the slaves. Kinda concerned about the kid, but…”
“What?” Cinder whimpered. Before Sven could stop her, she sped out of the room, wings dragging behind her. He ran after her into the main hold.
“Celina!” Cinder cried, screeching to a halt in front of her sister, who looked abashed and puzzled. “Couldn’t you have postponed the mission? It was my mission, Orphenn shouldn’t be out there!” shouting at Celina took a lot of her diminishing energy, and she began to stumble. She steadied herself against a wall. “He’s in danger!”
“We’re all in danger, just by being here.” Celina reminded. “I was against the idea, but Orphenn insisted.”
“He’s an idiot! He doesn’t know what he’s dong!” Cinder wailed. How could he be so rash? He knew the risk of being trapped by the device that enslaved her now, and yet he still insisted? What was he thinking?
“Since when have you been so protective of him?” Xeila put in.
Cinder ignored her. “I can’t let him! He can’t be hurt for my sake!” she turned around, intending to run for the cargo hold, but Sven was there, catching her as she wavered.
“Cinder, what is going on?” he demanded.
“They can’t find him, Sven! He’s Enma!”
“And?” His face was expectant, eyes and clenching hands commanding explanation.
Cinder violently pushed him away and tugged the scarf off her neck, showing them all what was latched at her throat. Her skin was bruised, rashed and bloody where the device clung to her like a starving leech. The veins in her neck bulged blue and purple. “They’ll do this to him!”
“I’m sorry.” Wynne said. He held a slave by the shoulder, an unhinged device prepared in his other hand. “I’m sorry.”
The slave could only close his green and brown eyes, knowing inevitably what was in store for him. He screamed when the device attached like a boa constrictor to his already punctured skin-marks from the previous device, being replaced by the shiny new one.
Moments later, he turned on Wynne and hissing, bared his teeth as if to bite him.
“No, stop!” Wynne warned, but in vain.
With another choking scream, the slave’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a heap on the floor.
He had tried to use his gift, and the device stopped his heart instantly.
Wynne let out a sorrowful sigh, holding a hand over his face, with nothing but the sounds of steam and forging to clear his head.
Before yesterday, this death wouldn’t have bothered him. All his typical Ardaran malice had somehow gone and his fundamental kind and gentle nature had resurfaced. He’d thought about it for hours, but never could he pinpoint the cause. All he knew was that when he looked at the woman in black, memories of his life before the war had all rushed back to him at once. He didn’t know why, or what was so significant about this woman. All he could do for now was follow orders, and act like nothing was different.
With a start, his head jerked up. His ears strained to hear the sound of footsteps.
A figure emerged from the veil of steam ahead of him. It held something in its hand.
With another start, Wynne realized it was the boy in white from yesterday. The boy that escaped with the woman in black. That captivating woman that he couldn’t wipe from his mind, not for a moment. The instant he had seen her, he remembered his family-sadly, they’d been killed in the war, but he could remember, now. Every memory up until now. Everything Ardara had stolen from him.
The boy stepped forward, then took a startled step back when he saw Wynne, extending his wings partly in case he needed to make a quick flight. A curdling scream emanated from further in the room, likely a slave being punished for misbehaving. So Orphenn hadn’t imagined it. Freaky.
Wynne held up his hands, calmingly. The boy must be looking for the dungeon. To free the war prisoners. That’s the way it’s done, when war is on the horizon…What other mission could he have? Wynne pondered.
“The dungeon is that way.” He whispered, tilting his head to the left.
Orphenn nodded gratefully, and rushed into the steam where Wynne had directed him. I knew I liked him. Orphenn thought, recalling the day before.
“I might regret that later….” Wynne murmured to himself, watching after the boy until the steam hid him from view. “Can’t say I care.” He laughed. Ever since his memories returned to him, he remembered how much he hated Ardara and everything that came with that name. He remembered everything the Master had forced him to do under her mind control. He’d hurt so many for her sake. Ruined so much at her will. And now that he could act on his own will and control his own thoughts, he couldn’t help but wonder: what was so special about the woman in black, that the mere sight of her would wake him from hypnosis?
As he thought about her, he heaved the corpse of the unfortunate slave up into his arms and threw the body into the kiln.
Evidently, Orphenn never made it as far as the dungeon.
He waded through the steam, down a dimly-lit corridor, firmly grasping his pistol. The steam dispersed, and the temperature dropped significantly the further he strode. When he turned a corner, he was met with the familiar malevolent gaze of Dacian.
Wynne had to double-take, and then blink several times to be sure he wasn’t hallucinating, or dreaming.
Just as he had been thinking about her, the raven haired woman rose from a cloud of steam.
But this time, she shook and stumbled as she walked. She looked distressed, and her face held despair. She was bloody and bruised where Ardara’s device squeezed around her neck, and her wings’ feathers were ruffled and knotted. Wynne would not have dreamt her like that.
He worried for her. “You.” He said, and walked toward her, reaching for her.
Before she could react, gunshots sounded from down the corridor.
Was this a set up? Orphenn wondered. Dacian had dodged and deflected each of his bullets, and lunged forward with his lance. Should I have trusted Wynne?
“What is your name?” Wynne asked.
The woman looked at him like he’d asked her what her favorite color was. “Cinder.” She answered carefully, then pleaded, “Where is my brother? Please! Take me instead! I’ll do anything!”
So willing to sacrifice herself for one that she loves….Wynne noted, knowing immediately who it was that she called her brother. I must help her in any way I can. “I mean no harm to you or your brother.” He explained. “But others do. Come. Run ahead of me. Fast.” He gently pushed her forward into the corridor. Judging by the gunshot, he knew ruefully that Nyx or Dacian must have met Orphenn there. He hoped the boy would not resent him, or think wrongly of his intentions. As he chased after her, he knew this was what Cinder desired, but still he hoped he had made the right choice.