Chapter 4
Arus was faintly aware of himself, though he hadn't the slightest notion of what had happened. A rolling pain pulsed through his chest and arms. His back was stiff as a board—perhaps he was lying on one—and the warm moist air seemed to press at his body from all sides. Darkness surrounded him, swallowing him in a sea of black, but that began to fade as consciousness crept over him.
"Arus, you're awake!"
His eyes were open now. The lumpy ceiling of the dirt-carved cavern flickered in the dim light of the lantern that hung from the wall. To his right, several posts of steel ran from the floor to the ceiling, forming a makeshift prison cell. The square frame of a door was shaped into the bars and fitted with a lock. Arus and the lantern were the only things inside the small cage aside from several small rocks.
"Ooh," he groaned, pushing himself upright. His upper torso had been completely wrapped in white cloth along with the upper portion of his left arm. The right was bare, leaving a dark red burn running from shoulder to elbow exposed. The waistline of his pants was charred with black and brown.
"How do you feel?" a familiar voice came from the darkness outside of the cell.
"Master Eaisan?" Arus' grogginess cracked through his voice. He rubbed his eyes. They burned, too.
"I am here, Arus," Eaisan's voice came back from the dark. "I am in a chamber similar to yours just across the way. Vultrel is here in a cell beside mine."
"Are you all right, Arus?" Vultrel's question echoed in the cavern.
"I can't . . ." Arus still couldn't see them. "My eyes aren't . . ." He still hadn't recovered enough to comprehend. "I can't see you."
"It will take some time," Eaisan said, his calm voice soothing in the dark. "Our eyes have adjusted, but then, we've been awake for quite a bit longer than you. I was afraid you wouldn't ever come back to us."
Arus rubbed his eyes again and squinted into the dark. "My throat hurts."
"You were screaming like a madman," Vultrel told him. "It's a wonder you didn't rupture your vocal chords."
"I . . ." Arus shook his head in an attempt to clear the cobwebs, and the cell began to spin. He squeezed his eyes closed and rested his forehead against his palm. "I don't remember anything. I did what?"
"Take slow breaths," Eaisan said. "In through your nose, out through your mouth. Keep your eyes closed. It will help you to regain your senses."
Arus straightened his back and did as he was told. It was hard to breath in the dank cavern. The air was hotter than the summer sun. The smell of sweat and dirt filled his nostrils with every breath. Even the desert wasn't as warm as—
The desert.
They had been at the edge of the Mayahol. He and Vultrel had followed Eaisan through the forest. They were on their way back to Keroko to warn the people about—
"The Mages," he murmured aloud, his eyes suddenly wide open. Memories flooded back like a tidal wave. "I attacked Sartan Truce, didn't I?"
"Screaming like a madman," Vultrel said again. It sounded as though he was stifling laughter. "Did you really think you could kill him?"
Arus remembered the turmoil he'd felt as he rushed Truce. He'd never felt so vehemently angry before—not even when his father died. One feeling had built on top of another, onto another, onto another, on and on until he had hurled himself forward in a blind fury. The memory of it filled him with shame. "I'm sorry, Master Eaisan," he murmured, putting his head in his hands again. "I don't know what came over me. I didn't really mean to—"
"It is not your fault, Arus," Eaisan interrupted. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. That was Truce's doing. I am sorry I didn't warn you sooner, but even if I had, you'd never have been prepared enough to face it. He used his power to get inside your mind and goad you into attacking him. It was his doing, not yours."
The pain. That needlepoint pain in my temple right before I attacked. Could that have been . . . Truce? "You mean he can control my mind?"
"Not exactly, thank the Maker." Arus was beginning to see the thin outline of Eaisan's face in the darkness. "He uses his abilities to draw out your darkest feelings so that he may use them to his own advantage. In your case, he drew out your anger and multiplied it many times, perhaps hundreds of times over, until you lost control of yourself."
"What happened after that?"
To the right of Eaisan, Vultrel's form began to appear. It looked like he was rubbing his ribs. "They attacked us," he said with a grimace. "Those fireballs of theirs are no joke."
"We ended up the same as you," Eaisan added, elaborating Vultrel's point. "Though I suspect our burns aren't as severe as yours."
Arus looked at his bandages again. "Who tended our wounds? And why are we locked in these cells? For that matter, where are we?"
"We think this is a cave beneath the Mayahol." Vultrel glanced at his father. "The Mages bandaged our injuries. One of them, a guy named Olock, was here about a few hours ago. He said something about needing us healthy for some festivities later tonight."
"We don't know how much time has passed or how long we've been in here," Eaisan shrugged. Arus could see bandages wrapped around the swordsman's waist. "For all we know, it could be night already."
Whatever they have planned, it can't be anything good. Arus planted his feet on the floor and grabbed the prison bars to pull himself to a standing position. The dark cavern spun and blurred as his body adjusted, and he concentrated on breathing as Eaisan had taught him until the room was steady again. "I don't want to wait around to find out what Sartan has planned," he said, tugging on the steel bars. "We need to find a way out of here."
Vultrel stood, too. "Shh!" he hushed, raising a finger to his lips as he peered into the darkness. "Did you hear that?"
Arus followed his gaze. "Hear what?"
Eaisan was standing now, his hands around the steel bars of his prison. "A voice," he said. "It sounded like—"
Movement in the shadows cut him off. Footsteps, light and quick, tapped across the packed dirt. Before Arus could even get a good look at her, a young lady with flowing black hair was at his prison door, shoving a small metal sphere into the keyhole.
"Stand back."
It took a moment for the words to register, but he moved to the far side of the cell. The girl turned away—her face was still indistinct in the meager light of the lanterns—and the lock burst to pieces. The door swung forward on its own.
"Stay there for a moment," she ordered. Her back was already to him as she put similar spheres into the other locks. They burst with tiny puffs of smoke, and Arus soon found himself standing beside Vultrel and Eaisan in the dim light. His jaw dropped when the young lady finally faced them.
"We meet again," Eaisan said with a bow.
Her eyes were the only visible portion of her face—a deep blue cloth covered her features from the bridge of her nose to the underside of her chin, and another was wrapped across her forehead. Both disappeared into thick black hair that nearly reached her waist. Her shirt was a matching blue, sleeves torn off slightly below her shoulders, and she wore blue silk gloves that stretched past her elbows. A leather belt was strung through the loops of her black pants, and a shiny black whip was coiled and latched to its right side. She carried herself like a battle-hardened warrior, but her voice betrayed her youth.
"You . . ." Arus' voice trailed off as her stare bore a hole through him. Her eyes were also blue, narrowed into an icy glare that would've struck fear into Kuldaan himself. "You were in our village when we were attacked."
"What of it?" she grumbled, heading into the darkness without waiting for them to follow. After a few steps, Arus could see an opening in the cavern wall not too far away. The young woman motioned for them to wait as she crept through it. Arus barely had time to glance at Vultrel and Eaisan before she called for them to follow.
The connecting cavern was little more than a tunnel, barely wide enough f
or two people. Blazing torches lined the walls in both directions, illuminating the corridor far better than the prison lanterns. The path to the right sloped upward and curved to the side, while the path to the left went further down. The girl yanked one of the torches from its makeshift perch and glanced between the two paths. She looked ready to speak, but a quiet beep from the pouch on her belt interrupted. She reached inside and withdrew a rectangular device of shining silver. Pressing her finger against a small protrusion on the side, she raised it to her lips. "Yeah, what is it?"
A majestic voice responded. "How are things going? Did you find it yet?"
"Not yet," she replied. "I just freed some of the locals. I'm going to look for it next."
Arus and Vultrel were wide-eyed. Such devices were completely foreign to humans. The idea that two people could hold a conversation through a small piece of metal seemed preposterous, yet this young lady was doing just that. Beside them, Eaisan's face had hardened. According to legend, a great war had once been waged amongst humans. Their mechanical weapons nearly drove the race to extinction, and in the wake of the struggle, humans abandoned their technology to ensure that such a war would never happen again.
The Vermillion War had rekindled those concerns. The Mages had large mechanical transports armed with frightening weaponry. Many seemed to have been heavily damaged before the war even began—from what, no one really knew—but they still packed a dangerous amount of firepower in their cannons. Arus had never seen for himself, but Eaisan had spoken of weapons that fired beams of pure energy capable of incinerating anyone careless enough to get in their way. It reaffirmed his belief that machines were only good for evil, and it showed in the sternness of his voice. "Young lady. Excuse me."
". . . should be two or three levels down, if I remember the sensor readout correctly," she was saying into the device.
"Just get out of there as soon as you can," the voice responded. It almost reminded Arus of Eaisan—filled with wisdom and strength. "As soon as I finish with Belvidia, I'll return for you. It worries me that Kindel would take this kind of action. But we can talk more about that later."
"Right," the girl agreed. "Be safe out there, Damien."
"You too, Kitreena."
Her eyes gazed unfocused into the depths of the tunnel for a moment before she returned the device to her pouch. But when she looked at her three companions, the angry scowl returned. "What are you still doing here? Get to the surface!" She pointed toward the rising path behind them. "Take any upward sloping path you see and eventually you'll get back into the desert."
Eaisan was eying her brown pouch with an uneasy look. "Have you not been taught about the great war, my dear?"
"Father, please," Vultrel pleading, holding up his hands. "Not now. We must get moving."
But the young lady simply glared at him. "What do you mean?"
Eaisan motioned to her pouch. "Machines are forbidden. Did you not know this?"
She looked puzzled for a moment, then snorted. "Your laws mean nothing to me, Gramps. But don't worry, I don't think a communicator is capable of blowing up the planet." She paused for a moment, sarcastically contemplating the notion. "I doubt it, anyway."
The swordsman frowned at her lack of respect. She turned away and started down the tunnel, moving only a few paces before Arus spoke. "Um, Kitreena?" he began, stepping forward. She said nothing, only pausing to look over her shoulder at him. "That's your name, right?" She responded with a single nod. Arus' heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. "Th-Thank you, Kitreena. Thank you for helping us."
Now she faced him, and her expression seemed to soften. She drew a long breath, almost as though the next words she spoke would be the hardest sentence she'd ever uttered. "You're welcome. Now, go. Patrols will be here any minute."
But Arus wasn't finished. "You're going to face him, aren't you? Sartan Truce?"
The anger came back with a sharp snap. "That's not your concern. Just get out of here."
She left no time for any further questions. Without looking back, she ran as fast as she could down the tunnel and disappeared around a corner in the distance. Behind him, Eaisan spoke.
"Come, boys." His face still seemed agitated by her use of machinery. Still, his words suggested gratitude. "Her effort will be wasted if they capture us again."
"I don't want to leave her to face him alone, Master," Arus said with a shake of his head.
I don't feel right about it either," Vultrel added, staring down the hall.
Eaisan turned and started up the winding path. "I understand, but we are unarmed, and even if we weren't, you two are not ready for—"
The land trembled beneath their feet as an explosion echoed from above. Panicked voices drifted down from the pathway ahead, cutting off their escape route. Eaisan led the boys back the way they'd come, past the prison corridor and down the tunnel. Hurried footsteps grew louder behind them, but Arus refused to look back. He ran despite the searing pain in his chest; he didn't know nor want to know what Sartan would do to him if they were captured again. He could hear the Mages screams behind them, some ordering them to stop, others announcing the prisoners' escape to whoever might hear. The end of the tunnel was near, and the only choice was a path to the left. Arus raced around the corner and skidded to a halt. Vultrel and Eaisan nearly trampled him as they, too, came to a stop.
"What the . . ." Vultrel didn't let the sentence finish.
The hall was wider here, enough to fit even a small carriage through. Kitreena stood in the center of a circle of Vermillion Mages, the leather whip twitching around her body like an angry tiger's tail. Her movements were like lightning, snapping the whip across one soldier's face while driving the heel of her boot into the throat of another. Two more lunged at her from opposite sides. Her whip cracked against the shins of the first, and before his body had even hit the ground, her fist connected with the face of his comrade. The remaining three Mages conjured fireballs in their palms. As the first released, Kitreena used her whip to pull another soldier into its path. Two more quick snaps of her weapon brought the final Mages to the ground.
And it all happened in a matter of seconds.
"Who is this girl?" Vultrel murmured, his jaw hanging in shock. His voice attracted her attention, and she growled when she saw them.
"I thought I told you to—"
"There they are! Get them!"
There were five pursuing Mages, clad in black pants and shirts of assorted color. Eaisan was tackled by three of them, Vultrel by the other two. As they fell to the ground, Arus was knocked forward, and he stumbled over the already fallen men and crashed to the dirt just beside Kitreena. She moved between him and the Mages, swirling her whip around before cracking it in the air.
"Let them go!" she demanded, cracking the whip again.
The soldiers yanked Eaisan and Vultrel to their feet, positioning themselves behind their prisoners. Arus scrambled up behind Kitreena. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he yelled. "Save them!"
"In case you haven't noticed," she hissed without turning back, "they are using your friends as shields."
"Arus, go!" Eaisan ordered. "Don't worry about us; we can take care of ourselves! Get out of here!"
"Don't move!" one of the Mages shouted from behind Vultrel. "Surrender at once!"
"Go, Arus!" Vultrel prodded. "Father and I will come up with something. Just get yourself out of here!"
"We can't do anything for them right now," Kitreena muttered under her breath as she backed toward Arus. "Let's get out of here. We'll find a place to hide until I come up with a plan."
"Are you crazy?" Arus shouted at her. "I'm not going to leave them! They need—"
Kitreena whirled to face him, her hair whipping behind her almost as sharply as her weapon. "You've already proven to be more trouble than you're worth. I didn't need to rescue any of you, and now you've jeop
ardized my mission. If you want any more help from me, you're going to have to do as I say! Are we clear?"
Everything was happening so fast. Vultrel and Eaisan, struggling against their captors, continued to plead with Arus to run. Though there were five of them, the Vermillion Mages fought to hold their captives, leaving himself and Kitreena free to escape. She gave him one last glare before racing down the tunnel.
"Arus," Eaisan's voice was calm despite the commotion. "Go. We'll be fine. There is no dishonor in living to fight another day."
Finally, Arus nodded. "I'll come back for you both. I promise."
He raced after Kitreena without looking back.