Chapter Four
~
The Big Picture
Celina, Cinder, Sven and Orphenn stood in a circle on the floor, hands joined, eyes closed. Sven had a loving smile, like he was having a pleasant dream, and the others had tears coming like waterfalls.
At the sound of the door slamming the wall upon opening, Celina’s eyes jolted open, red and swollen from crying. The others did the same, barely managing to keep from shouting in surprise at the sudden change in environment. The instant Celina’s eyes opened, the group tumbled back into the parlor, as if the memory were a carpet tugged out from underneath them.
Standing in the doorway before them were a man and a woman. The man was tall, with long blonde dreadlocks, the top layer bound in a ponytail. One eye was a hazel that exactly matched the color of his hair, and the other was slitted and soft violet. The woman was russet-skinned with a shock of white hair, feathered and layered, its length just brushing her jaw line. Her hair was brighter than the white of Denoras, though she was anything but old. Like Sven, she had long pointed ears, fanged incisors and black and gold eyes. “Dad, I have to talk to you.” She stepped inside to stand by Sven.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Jeremiah beseeched, to compensate for the woman’s rashness, though his manners went nearly unnoticed.
“Yes?” Sven replied, almost sadly. “What is it, Poppet? You get any news?”
“No, nothing.” She shook her white head.
Sven is a father? Orphenn pondered incredulously.
“By the way, Xeila,” Celina stood tall beside Orphenn, who was even taller. “I’ve been meaning to thank you. If it weren’t for your mission--”
Xeila stopped her. “I didn’t find my sister. I didn’t accomplish anything.” She lamented. Sven blinked slowly.
“On the contrary, my friend.” Cinder countered. “Thanks to you, we’ve found our brother.” She rose to stand beside Celina, and yanked Orphenn to stand closer to her side.
Sven and Xeila now stood straighter, as if in respect.
“You’re very popular among the chamber maids.” Jeremiah interjected, traipsing into their circle. “You’re Orphenn, right?”
Orphenn flushed and nodded, shaking his hand.
“I’m Jeremiah. And the rude brown one here is my fiancé, Xeila.”
The Rude Brown One nudged him in the side. “Well, I’m glad for that, at least. That I could help in some way.”
“I promise we’ll get Pigey back.” Sven said to her. “Don’t beat yourself up.”
Xeila nodded, swallowing back the lump in her throat. Then she looked at Celina. “Chairman Matthias gave me the message to tell you that you have a visitor waiting for you on the top floor. He says it’s urgent.”
Celina nodded acknowledgement.
Xeila turned with Jeremiah toward the door, but stopped to reach for Sven. “Daddy?” She invited.
Sven gave a weak smile. He tapped Orphenn’s forehead. “Catch ‘ya later, squirt.”
With Jeremiah and Sven on either arm, Xeila left the room.
“I suppose I should see who’s waiting for me.” Celina said after a brief pause. Then she left as well, leaving Cinder and Orphenn alone in the parlor.
Orphenn leaned up against the fireplace mantle. “I had no idea Sven was a father.” The thought of parents still sped up his heartbeat, especially at the realization that he could remember his own now. He knew they were gone, that he’d never see them again. But already he felt a filial bond with Sven, and at the same time felt guilty for it. He could feel the tears in his eyelids once again, and he chastised himself for being so emotional. He turned his back to Cinder and swallowed hard, restraining his laments.
Cinder grinned, happily. “And he’s a damn good one too. He was all they had when their mother was killed.” Her smile faded, remembering. “He reminds me so much of our Dad.”
Orphenn sensed the danger of sentiment in her words. I’m such a baby, he thought as he quickly changed the subject to avoid a sappy speech, his strong front already delicate. “Who is ‘Pigey?’” He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, spinning to face Cinder.
“Huh?” She gave him a curious look. “Oh. What Sven said? It’s Pigeon. A nickname for his youngest daughter. Eynochia is her name. She’s been missing for at least a week now. I only found out this morning when I spoke to Sven at the monument.”
“Ah.” Orphenn comprehended. “That’s why he had such a. . . .Sadness about him. Even as he called me ‘squirt’ he seemed. . . .Tired.”
Rammes Cain stood staring through the window pane at the downpour. He felt undermined. He was sure the Master thought herself more important to the cause than she believed him to be, when it was his ideas and meticulous planning that started that war years ago! His own brilliance. Ardara would have won if not for those creatures.
He thought, maybe he should break the partnership. Though his affiliate would spit fire if he ever brought up the notion. But he knew he didn’t want to share what was left of Ardara’s power with her any longer.
He needed a plan. With Master Ardara out of the way, the once great nation and conquest could rise again without hindrance.
Another thought came to his head. She does seem to like wine. A drop or two of arsenic in her glass should do the trick. And those henchman of hers as well. Especially that favorite one, Dacian. I never liked him.
“Oh, I’m afraid that wouldn’t work out so well.” Ardara’s laughter was like a feathery whisper.
Rammes spun around with a start.
She stood there, dressed in revealing maroons and violets, and hooded, with black hair that hung in her face, and eyes like scorching blue daggers.
Dacian stood behind her, smugly leaning against the doorframe.
Rammes hated him. That arrogant look on his face, his one red eye.
“Don’t you find it annoying when she hears your thoughts?” Rammes hissed at him.
“I would,” Dacian shrugged, “if she did.”
Ardara began to pace, high heels thumping the floor. “You see, Rammes-even if you did carry out your cute little assassination plan, it wouldn’t have succeeded. Not only would Dacian have smelled the poison long before you had the chance to use it, but, also thanks to Dacian, I am, like him, immune to poison. Isn’t that odd?”
“So do plan to kick me out? I won’t succumb so easily. It’s me that wants to leave you.” Rammes defied.
“I want things back the way they used to be.” She said lightly, yet viscously. “When Ardara had full control.”
“You’re so obsessed.” He spat. “You were full enough of yourself to name our entire campaign after yourself. Now-”
“Actually,” she interrupted, “I named myself after the conquest. I thought up the name over a glass of stolen wine, and decided it fit me better than my birth name. Though I bet you’re correct about the obsession bit.”
“You’re insane.”
“Anyhow, the point is, Rammes Cain, that you were never part of the big picture.” She widely gesticulated, arms out as if a great window were plastered across the middle distance.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. You were weak. That’s why our campaign failed.”
“Your cowardice sent our plans into ruin!” She began to grow angry. “That, and the people of Verlassen had a secret weapon.
“The Enma,” he chastised, “were severely outnumbered. We butchered them. There was no way they could’ve won, but they did. I never understood it.”
“No, you didn’t, because you ran away before you could see the beings that helped them!” She screeched.
“What?”
“They were huge, like massive clouds of light that rained down from the sky! Oh, how they swept across the battlefield-you should have seen it. It took seconds. That’s the power I want. . . With it. . .Anything is possible.”
“Is this really wise?” Rammes mused. “Disclosing all your plans to me? When I could be a potential enemy. . .?” As he said this, he subtly drifted backward, to take up a firearm from his desk. He pointed the revolver at Ardara.
She cackled, stalking closer.
“Don’t be a fool, Rammes Cain.”
“It’s a bit late for that.” Dacian snorted.
Rammes pulled the trigger.
Ardara only flicked her eyes at it, and the bullet froze in the air. She idly stared at its silver casing, then her eyes abruptly jolted back to Rammes, sending the bullet darting back at him. It submerged itself in his abdomen. He gave an earsplitting shriek, and the gun fell from his hand.
Ardara held out her palm and the gun was brought to her grip before it hit the ground, like her mind had attached a string to it and she was the puppet master. As soon as the revolver floated to her hand she cocked it, and with three more shots, she ended the life of Rammes Cain. Though she fired seven more times.
When the shots stopped, her eyes were crazed, but she calmed herself. “Damn.” She breathed dismissively. “I got a bit carried away. I would have preferred to electrocute him. Ah, well.” She shrugged, dropping the emptied gun to the floor. She willed Rammes’s lifeless body to levitate above the floor, and it did so, dripping with blood, with only a flash of her eyes. And with a swish of her hand, the body was tossed out an open window. “You are dismissed.”
Ardara relaxed her mind when she reached the throne room. There was a huge window behind the looming throne, letting in what little light there was in this land. “Now,” she exhaled, sinking into the plush of her throne cushions, “it’s time to try again. Bind the girl.” She said to Dacian. “Make certain she does not interrupt me again.”
Dacian complied, turning to the iron cage that lay beside Ardara’s throne. Crouched inside was a silver-haired girl with skin like the shell of an almond. Her clothes were in tatters, and she hid her face in her arms, rocking back and fourth, even though the cage wasn’t locked, or even shut. In fact, it was wide open.
Dacian clutched the girl’s wrists and brought her forcefully out of the cage. She never struggled, only scowled as Dacian chained her arms to shackles that hung from the towering ceiling, her waist to the wall, and her ankles to the floor. Her black and green eyes burned with hatred.
Ardara began to stretch her mind, closing her eyes. “I do have one thing to thank you for. . . .Pigeon. Lovely pet name.” She said to the unresponsive prisoner. “You did remind me to take care of some political business.” Now she held her hands out before her, as if waiting to touch something, though she stayed in one place.
Orphenn felt a headache coming on.
“Now to ensure you don’t go into one of your fits again.” Dacian murmured to Pigeon, lifting her chin so she looked straight at him. He parted his lips slightly and drew closer as if to kiss her, but instead, a noxious black vapor misted from his mouth. He breathed it out, and it seeped into her mouth and nose. He pulled away when her mismatched eyes rolled back. He released her jaw, and without the support of his hand, her head fell to her shoulder, her body going limp in the chains.
“I hope you haven’t killed her,” warned Ardara, still entranced, “I am not fond of her father.”
“Just a sedative.” Dacian laughed.
Ardara stood slowly and her fingers curled, like she had taken hold of something invisible.
Orphenn’s head throbbed, then he felt a strange smack, like someone had clapped a pair of symbols next to his head, their resonance knocking him to the floor.
Ardara fell backward onto her wide throne, like someone had shoved her. The hood slipped off her head as she landed, rubbing her head as if suffering from a migraine.
“Are you okay?” Cinder worried when Orphenn collapsed.
“Yes, I’m fine….Just this weird….Head thing…..Kind of dizzy….”
“Let’s head over to the infirmary. You might still need to recover.”
Ardara shrieked infuriately, huffing to her feet. Dacian was already beside her.
“What happened?” He demanded.
“It’s that vermin’s fault!” She jabbed an accusing finger at the unconscious girl hanging from her chains. “I was too late. Sven’s already gotten to him and shielded his mind from me, just as he’s done with every other Enma he could get his hands on….I hate that man….” She almost whispered. “And not only that….I’m deathly afraid of him.”
“Why?” Dacian scarcely remembered her admitting her faults. She always wore a façade of fearlessness.
“He could do horrible, unthinkable things to a psychic mind such as mine….Things I don’t even want to imagine. I want to lock him up with his stupid brother.” Her eyes were wide with realization. “And even scarier than that….I feel I am strangely attracted to him.”
“You really have lost it this time, Master.”
She flashed an enlightened grin. “I’ve just had an epiphany. I need you to take advantage of your gift. Find me the source of the Enma’s power. I will achieve my goal soon enough.”
“So tell me about your mission, Poppet.” Sven said. “What did you think of Ardara?”
Xeila was reluctant to answer as they halted beside a tall column near the palace steps. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Jeremiah held her hand as she spoke: “The place is a wasteland. The woman’s a psycho. You know what happened with her-I heard her talking to someone, though she was totally alone. She said out loud where a boy named Keiran was, though I didn’t know who he was at the time. I told Celina, and that’s how she found him, and told Cinder to bring him here.
“In Ardara’s throne room, there was something-sounded like a dog yipping and growling and carrying on, and I was sure it was Eynochia.”
“Of course it was.” Sven remarked. “She would know your scent anywhere. Even with your chameleon gift, she knew you were there. Didn’t matter none that you were invisible.” His certainty comforted Xeila, even though he hadn’t been there with her in the castle.
Her face grew sad. “I could have taken her and left, I could have rescued her. But I had let my guard down.” She paused to pull her hand from Jeremiah’s, and slip out of her jacket. Now that her arms and neck were visible, the other two could see that a large, nauseatingly colorful bruise was forming up her right arm, neck and chest. The tone of her skin made it seem even more gruesome. “But I didn’t see Dacian coming up behind me.” She snarled just as Sven did at the mere thought of Dacian.
“He hurt you!” Sven jeered. “I’ll kill ‘im.”
“How could he have attacked you?” Jeremiah cut in fiercely. “Weren’t you in your stealth state? How did he see you?”
“He must have seen that tiny refraction my body gives off to the camouflage….That’s all I can think of.” Xeila concluded. “He threw dust at me and saw where I was. He only touched my neck.”
“And it did that? We’re going to the infirmary this instant, Xeila. That man is toxic.” Jeremiah took her jacket and her arm, starting to walk her back up the steps. He looked back. “You comin’ Pops?”
Sven was gazing intently up at a top floor window. It was wide open, and the drapes swayed with the breeze.
“Go on up without me.”
Orphenn and Cinder were in the infirmary when Jeremiah and Xeila arrived. Orphenn had a tall glass of water, nearly spilling it when he saw Xeila.
“Oh my God! Wha--”
The door swung open again, beholding an even bigger problem than Xeila’s injury. Orphenn nearly collapsed again, and this time, he did spill the water. The glass shattered when he dropped it.
It was Sven, with a bleeding Celina dangling in his arms.