Liefer swung his head to get hair out of his face. “The Com passed a special tax on our orchestra's property. My uncle is the guild master and conductor. He organized an exodus. We gathered up what we could carry and fled. Some brought their families. A Com enforcer, Talon, pursued us—and still does as far as we know.”
“He does.” Sorana didn’t make eye contact. She slowly chewed a nut from her stash. “At least some professional does.”
Visor said, “I had no idea it had gotten so bad. What about the combined army? Does General Presence know what’s going on?”
Liefer said, “He is still tied up in the deep south pushing back the buway incursions. They raided Vozvul about six months ago.”
Visor said, “That left the north—WaterCrescent—standing alone for attack from the ogres and vardal. That was convenient for them.”
Liefer asked, “What do they want? To kill us? Enslave us?”
Thorsius said, “They won’t take Raykez. It’s too big.”
Liefer said, “At least with this storm, we may be safe for a time. It’ll cover our tracks. And not even Talon's Gauntlet can pass through this, except for his ogres.”
Thorsius grimaced. “He has ogres?”
Liefer said, “He has everything—a pixie, cavalry, cooks, artillery, and a lot of money.”
Visor said, “Likely, he has everything else because of the money.”
Rapture walked in from the sleeping chamber. She joined the group, sitting on her knees next to Visor.
Visor rubbed her back and kissed her neck.
Sorana studied him with steady, amber eyes.
Rapture said, “Everyone’s bruises and fractures are taken care of. I reduced your uncle’s infection. I can’t grow back the hand.”
Liefer said, “I know”.
“Okay, just some humans don’t.” She smiled in apology. “But your uncle will be fine. Everyone will.” Her cat sauntered up and lay against her thigh.
Visor said, “It was one thing to blitz WaterCrescent—an isolated fortress—with ogres that circumvented the defensive benefits of the location, but Raykez would be a long campaign against a larger population in unfriendly territory. It would have to be a slow advance to maintain supply lines. Maybe they plan to recruit more ogre tribes. Perhaps Khatagin’s tribe is bigger than we think. Nazaire’s vardal would give them the organization, but to feed and control a standing ogre army would be difficult.”
Liefer asked, “Then why Raykez—to what end?
Visor rubbed Rapture’s back. “I don’t know. Let’s go over what we know.”
Chapter 12
Captivity
Visor said, “Athian, move closer to Liefer. Hold up your book.”
Rapture said, “And there was always a guard—at least one by the door, and usually another somewhere behind us.”
Visor pointed at the viola player. “You—you are a vardal guard. Go stand by the door. Thorsius, go stand behind the girls … but between them.”
Thorsius positioned himself between and behind Rapture and Sorana.
Rapture said, “Both guards were girls. So was the recorder.”
Visor said, “Okay, Thor, you’re a girl. And Liefer is the interrogator. That’s all I remember from what we talked about before. Five people?”
“I think so. It’s hard to remember. You know, the drugs. And at first I was so scared that I don’t remember those times.”
“It’s fine. And what did Liefer do?”
Rapture said, “She just kind of gave instructions. She’d talk with the recorder at the beginning, and then be in and out for the rest of the session. She would give us the drugs, sometimes.”
“’She? Were they all females?”
“Not all. Most were, at least to start with—when they asked questions and did the testing. Then when they hit us, they would usually have men do that.”
“They asked questions before that. What kind of questions?”
“Well most days, they would go through the same list: ‘How are you feeling? Do you have any lasting pain? Trouble breathing or seeing? Is there any food you want? Is your healing functioning normally?’”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that was every day. Did they do the physical examination every day, too?”
“You mean where they look in your mouth and stuff? Yeah.”
“Really? Mouth, eyes … what else?"
“They’d listen to our heart and breathing, after they made us exercise.”
“Exercise?”
“Lift weights—do this.” Rapture did a half-hearted squat. “Then they’d check us, like our spine and sides of our necks. And they wrote stuff down.”
“So after the questions at the beginning, what did they ask?”
“Nothing. They pretty much ignored what we said. Sometimes they would write it down.”
“When did—” Visor spoke to everyone. “Okay—thanks everyone. I’ll let you get back to whatever you need to do.” He led Rapture to their sleeping nook, motioning for Sorana to follow as well. The three kneeled in a close circle and he spoke in a lower tone only they could hear. “When did they stop torturing you?”
Rapture said, “What do you mean?”
“Well, presumably, captors would torture you until you gave up information or until they gave up for the session. But if they didn’t ask questions, when did they stop?
“Oh. They were counting.”
Visor asked, “They counted?”
“Yes, the recorder would count. They made sure they always did the same stuff to the vardal girl. Well, sometimes they did her first.”
“The same thing to each of you or the same thing to her every time?”
“The same thing to me and her. It wasn’t every day.”
“Like how often, then? I’m sorry to ask. I know this is awkward to talk about. I’m trying to be clear so I can figure out what their intentions were.”
“I know, Don—it’s okay. Some days, they would just do the testing and questions. When they hit us, it was different for other sirens. I think some of the others—they would cut them.” She gestured, struggling for words. “Not to kill them, but enough to make them bleed and be something you’d want to heal. And one time they took me and my partner out early. They weren’t done with a Marigold yet. We had to watch while they beat her and her partner. They were hitting her—punching her—down here.” Rapture motioned to a lower region on her own body.
Sorana said, “The Xandrian’s face.”
Visor said, “Along with her partner.”
“They strapped the Xandrian to the chair. For me, they used the overhead chains and usually … you know … my chest.”
Visor asked, “You mean like with … not with something that’s going to, you know …”
“Yeah, just like, usually with weapons that, you know …”
Sorana said, “With whips and canes, but not cutting weapons or heavy blunts that would do real damage?”
“Yes.” Rapture nodded. “And wires.”
Sorana asked, “Permanent marks?”
“Well …” Rapture pushed her cloak back over her shoulders and unbuttoned the lab coat. “Sometimes needles. And I passed out once, so I don’t know.” She pulled her shirt up.
“I’m not sure, but if you look here and here…” Visor pointed.
Sorana said, “Piercings as for body jewelry.”
Visor asked, “And they let you heal ... sometimes. Did they record that too?”
Rapture let her shirt fall down. “I don’t know. Sometimes, they would turn the suppression off after we went back to the cells so the recorder wasn’t there. I suppose the vardal partner could have told.”
Visor said, “And all of the sirens were celled next to their partners.”
“Yes, why? What is it?”
Visor said, “I don’t think they were torturing you. This was a research experiment. It had co
ntrol subjects and procedures. They were researching your healing—the effect of sirenic healing on vardal. They’re looking for the effectiveness under duress. I think they're ....”
“They’re what!”
Visor said, “They're not after Raykez. They’re trying to capture sirens.”
Rapture's eyes grew big. “Xandria? Oh, Heiliger Mond! Don!”
***************
Rapture sat cross-legged, absently stroking the snow leopard in her lap. She was in the most private place she could find in the small cave system—an alcove of their sleeping nook.
Her eyes focused past the wall she faced. Xandria ... the Catalyst ... the snowstorm ... her rescue. They needed to get to Xandria to warn it. Would Raykez respond? Or would the humans be too absorbed with in-fighting and the loss of WaterCrescent? And this winter storm kept them trapped far away in an isolated cave. How long would it go on? Don would be able to save Xandria with something called the Catalyst, if only he could reach the Tower of Mercy in time. Would he already have the Catalyst had he not chosen to rescue her first? How long would their binding last? How comforting did he find Mercy?
Sorana approached and knelt beside her. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but didn’t. She stroked Rapture’s hair and patted her back. She rubbed Rapture’s shoulders. It felt nice … relaxing. She kissed Rapture’s neck.
Rapture pulled away. “What are you doing?”
The snow leopard whined.
Sorana froze. She released a scent of panic.
Rapture let her gaze wander back to the wall.
In time, Sorana hugged her again. The women swayed gently in unison. Sorana spoke in a whisper. “What was it like?”
Rapture said, “Xandria ... my home ... the city of grace. It's always beautiful—always peaceful. We can't defend ourselves from the vardal, or the ogres. The humans protect us. Unless more come, we are lost.”
“What was it like in the AciesMagus?”
Chapter 13
Ghost Story
“Come on, who else has one?” Athian gesticulated, coaxing the group to respond.
Thorsius said, “There's The Voice in the Piccolo.”
Athian said, “Blah, a real story. Come on, Rap? Any sirenic ghosts?”
Rapture shook her head gently. She was still preoccupied.
Athian said, “If no one has any, I'm going to have Liefer give us more music history lessons! Sorana, you might know something we've never heard.”
Sorana said, “I don't know any ghost stories. I only read books from Mother's library.”
“And there are no stories in the library?”
“It only has history books and training manuals.”
“Well, anything in there that's scary ... or mysterious?”
Sorana thought for a bit. “The history books have folklore. There is something that you might consider scary—the story of the Mortal Banshee.”
The room fell silent. Eyes shifted about uncomfortably. Athian dropped his hands—and his smile. Kaytla grabbed her children and left. One of the musicians put a hand on his son's shoulder.
Visor said, “Well, Sorana, that story means different things to different people. Some consider it a serious subject.”
One of the dozen musicians said, “Serious? It's not even real.”
Athian said, “Well I heard it was a siren gone mad that started the fire.”
A man holding a brass horn said, “Not a siren—a banshee … the last banshee. She drove the entire farmstead mad and the fire was an accident.”
Visor asked, “So this single banshee simply lived by herself the past thousand years or so since her race has been extinct?”
A woman, the oboe player, said, “Or it could have just been an accidental fire and the story was made up to cover it up.”
Thorsius asked, “If it was an accident—”
Visor said, “Were.”
Thorsius said, “—then why all the weapon wounds on the bodies?”
The oboist said, “The official records were lost, and other records conflicted. They didn't even get to the Silent Hands until days after the fire. Think how it smelled and looked. Do you think they searched through the bodies? They probably just took a look and decided something horrible happened and the story started from there.”
Athian said, “Why don't we let Sorana tell us her version. It might be interesting to hear the vardal view.”
Sorana moved closer to the fire and sat on her knees, as others had done when telling their stories. “This would have been three hundred years ago. In those days, the Raykez orphanage was part of the White Heart Mission, not the Siren Sanctuary. The White Heart gave an orphan girl to a home that needed another work hand at the Idle Hands farmstead. Silent Hands was called the Idle Hands before the burning.
“She was fed, but never accepted as family. As a child, she was treated as a servant, for labor and comfort. With time, her treatment worsened. The protocol at home extended to the farmstead.” Sorana stared into the fire, “Everywhere she turned, there was only scorn, ridicule, or outright hostility. The actions of the farmstead were ... unconscionable.”
Sorana leaned toward the fire. It reflected in her pupils, discoloring her amber eyes to a metallic copper. She whispered, “Torture … humiliation … bestiality. In time, a White Heart missionary discovered the situation and took her back to Raykez, to the White Heart Mission. There, he rebuilt her spirit in the image of the White Heart. He taught her about the Rapture, when judgment would be passed and all would be found guilty.
“She discovered her place in the world. She began to venture out from the White Heart Sanctuary by night. And in the streets of Raykez, she passed judgment. Over the following weeks, she killed at least 23 men and boys. Then, when the Aurora signaled the time of Rapture, she returned to the Idle Hands Farmstead. The residents were assembled in the chapel. She barred the doors from the outside and burned the chapel. She killed the would-be rescuers. Then she entered the fire, dying with the farmstead victims. In memorial, the farmstead was renamed the Silent Hands.
“The missionary was found flayed on the altar at the White Heart Sanctuary. Records of the events were pieced together through heresay.”
There was a moment of silence. Then Athian said, “That is quite monstrous, and hard to believe. What would drive people to that?”
The oboist said, “That would be pure insanity! Maybe one cruel stepfather, but so many? What are the odds? There were women there, right? They wouldn’t all be that mean. Catty—sure, but not needlessly cruel. It’s a farmstead, not an ogre mound.”
Someone else said, “And what with the teenage girl overpowering field hands?”
Athian said, “It's just another version of the same old story. Really—how could anyone know so much detail?”
Sorana shrugged and sat back.
Visor asked, “Sorana, was this written in a Tome of Mercy?”
Sorana signed, Yes.
***************
Visor jogged back into the cave.
Kaytla waited for him in front of the fire room. “In a hurry?”
Visor stopped. “It's freezing out there!”
Kaytla said, “I see you shivering. How is the storm?”
“‘Your’, and it's letting up. Unfortunately, there’s a cold front.”
“I see.” Kaytla held up her pointer finger. “I just wanted you to know that when we leave, I won't be going with you, if you take that woman. And I don't care if you get Athian to follow you.”
“Sorana? Look, she hasn't been around people for most of her life. She's just a bit awkward.”
“Awkward? She's insane! Dangerous!” Kaytla waved. “I'm not here to argue. I'm not letting my children near her. If you were smart, you’d get away from her, too.”
“Kaytla—” Visor started but she was walking off. He made his way to the fire room. He pulled back the sk
ins that covered the tunnel to the perch. He shouted up the tunnel, “Thor! You still there?”
Thorsius shouted back down the tunnel. “Yeah! Still got a while on my shift! It’s getting cold, though!”
“Okay, man! I'm headed to bed! Come get me if you need an early relief!” Visor walked past the dining chamber back to the sleeping room. He found his spot next to Rapture and lay down. He pinned his hands between his knees, trying to warm them up before touching her.
After partially drifting off, he became aware that someone was standing over him. He looked up at Sorana.
She pulled off most of her armor, lay down and scooted up next to him. “Hold me.”
He did.
Sorana was cold. She was lean and toned compared to Rapture, and she had the normal body odor of a human. She eventually warmed up and fell asleep. She moved sporadically throughout the night. She started and woke him at least three times. She whimpered once.
Half-asleep, he asked, “What's wrong?”
Sorana said, “Oh it's just ... Jarrod.”
Visor was on a bridge. He fell and hit his head. Then he was sitting up, and realized that it was actually an ogre’s club that had struck his head. His father asked if he were okay. The dream ended as he awoke to an alarmed Liefer’s yelling.
“Ogres!” said Liefer. “Two of them! Everyone up!”
Chapter 14
Ogre
Thorsius said, “They haven't found us yet.”
Visor kneeled behind Thorsius in the perch, along with Liefer and Sorana. “But they will. There's too much evidence—too many trails—with all of us staying here.”
Liefer asked, “What do we do? We could concentrate on the one in plate leggings. He’s got no armor up top. We just need to distract one long enough to get the first one down.”
Thorsius said, “Whoever is distracting is going to die. The ogres’ll crush ya, no matter what you’re wearing.”
Visor said, “The ground is slippery. We can't count on dodging.”
Thorsius said, “Dogging an ogre attack isn’t easy anyways. People think they could, but their reach is too wide. And they’re not as slow as they look.”
Visor said, “People are thinking of them as large humans.”
Thorsius said, “Well, they kinda are. Just fat.”
Visor said, “But large men tend to be uncoordinated because they had some kind of growth abnormality. Humans aren’t designed to be nine feet tall. But look at these ogres with their huge feet, thick legs and relatively small shoulders and head. Their bones and muscles are designed to move and balance that weight.”