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The Ancients and the Angels: Celestials

Page 35

by M.C. O'Neill


  ***

  Banda Na’rundi paused outside the service entrance to the dungeons. Trying to hide his nerves, as was usual for him; he adjusted the medals affixed to his uniform. “Tam’laa, am I on straight?”

  “Don’t worry, Father, you look like you could take on all of Thuless’in,” she assured.

  He grunted with some doubt, “You never said that I’d win. This had better work out. Once through this door, we will be forced to commit to the plan one-hundred percent. My neck is out on the line.”

  The colonel rang the buzzer. Deep inside, Banda hoped that it would never answer and they could turn back and all stop at a restaurant for lunch and forget about everything. His wish was dashed when the intercom buzzed in response.

  “Good day, Colonel Na’rundi. What business brings you here, sir?” the door’s crackle was respectful, yet cold and impersonal at the same time. It matched the size of the portal; a giant wooden bulkhead that only artillery from a laandbaarg could hope to breach.

  “Gonduanna High Council has sent me here to question the prisoner Quen’die Reyliss,” the gold elf looked down at his tablet to double-check her code. “Prisoner 1127 Tortoise.”

  Another pause sat heavy from the door. “Present badge and I.D. to the screen on your left, please, Colonel.”

  Na’rundi raised his tablet to the little optical lens that was nestled next to the bulkhead under the comm. “Happy now?”

  “It’s a check,” the door confirmed. “Eh, what’s Gonduanna want with her anyway, sir?”

  Stoicism was a trait for which the colonel was renown, and he needed to use that. Any display of nervousness would blow the plan apart. “Warden, this terrorist has committed a global crime and she will be met with a global response. I have permission by the Atlantean High Circle to interrogate her accusations. You can expect military envoys from around the world in the next two days. This includes Thuless’in. We even have Colonel Gau’bam all the way from Mu en route.”

  “Yes sir!” the door acknowledged. “Please step away from the portal, sir.”

  The innards of the dungeon rumbled as the bulkhead’s workings sprang to life. The racket was immense and quite unwelcoming. Anybody who was ushered through this threshold as a prisoner must have had their guts drop with despair upon hearing this clamor.

  Colonel Na’rundi looked over at his two compatriots. Both were infected with the same authority as the elder gold elf. Tam’laa flashed her father a knowing smile as she stood at attention. That day, she fashioned her hair into a relaxed Atlantean style but had managed to pepper it with a few braids. Mavriel kept his face shrouded under his black cloak, but the colonel knew that he felt no apprehension. It just seemed to be his way since meeting him the other night.

  The trio walked to the admissions desk to be greeted by the active warden on duty that day. Na’rundi thought the hallway leading down seemed so long, as if through a warped lens, yet he never broke his stride. So many years of conditioning and combat had reinforced his nerves, and this operation was no different. As if fortune was thrown to the wind this time, he did not have the support of the Gonduanna High Command behind him, as he had alleged.

  “Colonel Na’rundi, sir,” the warden greeted. “May I have the identification of your company?”

  “I have my daughter Tam’laa Na’rundi with me today and one of the Aldebarans stationed in Gonduanna is here to supervise,” the gold elf stated.

  Looking over to his daughter, the warden flashed a smile. “That’s fine. Can I have the name of the Aldebaran, please?”

  Mavriel stepped forward and lowered his hood. He flashed his eyes down at the lady behind the desk in case she wanted to probe deeper into his true identity. “I am called Canceros. You can let me through. I check out.”

  She was gobsmacked upon his simple statements. Her eyes were transfixed upon his as if she were enjoying a waking dream while she imitated his exact words along with his mouth. Mavriel hated doing this and hated lying about his name all the more. As Ui pledged free will upon all of elfdom, imposing his own upon a mortal made him feel guilty and the guilt made him ill.

  “Yes, you’re good to go,” she responded with an affected duty. “Colonel, I’ll get a steward to escort you to the Circle of Tortoise.”

  “That’s fine,” he nodded. “But I must inform you; this is a transnational interrogation, so we will need a privacy room arranged.”

  “Absolutely, Colonel,” the warden checked her tablet. “We can have one set up for you in Sector N.41. I’ll summon a steward now.”

  As the desk warden scrolled through her tablet to arrange for their escort, Tam’laa looked up to her father and smiled. The nerves bundling inside him washed away for a moment and her silent reassurance lent him a sense of well-being. This may work out just fine, he surmised.

  A husky elf rounded his way to the admissions desk. He was gripping a cup of tea and looked a bit worse for the wear. Na’rundi figured this one must have had a long night.

  “Hello, Colonel, I’m warden Ginn. I’ll escort you to your subject’s cell.” His eyes were bloodshot upon closer examination and his uniform looked a bit rumpled. What was he up to last night, Na’rundi wondered?

  “Oh, Colonel,” the desk warden piped before they set off. “The bulkhead is entrance-only. You can leave this facility through the courthouse adjoined.”

  The elf led the three like a plodding dodo bird through the winding sloped halls. With each turn the corridors made, and with each descent, the dungeon became dingier and dingier.

  Tam’laa scanned her surroundings as she was most ever the curious one. Her father prided her on how she always loved to know how things worked. With each decline the wending ways made led their group down to another level of the prison. Painted in intermittent and immense orange letters across the walls were the identities of the circles: “The Circle of Lion,” “The Circle of Hog,” “The Circle of Ox.” As she moved in for a closer inspection, the types of offenders were listed underneath. Each circle boasted more heinous crimes than the last. Judging by the depth of their journey, the Circle of Tortoise must have housed only the worst of criminals, to wit: terrorists and traitors.

  “We have the offender in a double cell right now,” the warden belched. “What with all these looters and ration thieves, our dungeon is nearly filled to capacity. If it weren’t for this time limit, we’d probably have to build another circle or two just to accommodate the load.”

  “That’s fine,” the colonel gave a sharp nod. “We’ll sequester this one in a privacy room anyway.”

  “Good for you!” he shot back. “You’ll need it. Her little roommate is none other than that goofball Travius. Y’know, it seems like millennia ago when he tried to kill our king. All that’s happened in the last few months seems like eons! Well, anyway, that blast from the past can yak your ear off. Always going on and on about the seen and the unseen. Not only that, he’ll try to get in your head. I remember this one time he kept prying into my family life. The scary thing was, he was right on the money about most of it! Me, I didn’t care if he was psychic or not. Once he started going on about my wife, I gave him a good once-over. You gotta keep these guys in line every now and again, y’know?”

  Banda rolled his eyes in the hall’s murky light. This warden was an idiot, but he could lend no time for disparagement of the ignorant. “Right…”

  As the hallway dropped in a steep slope, the lights grew ever dimmer and the walls looked like the floor of a public toilet. Since they were deep in the earth, the moisture was seeping onto the floor causing brackish puddles here and there. It looked like the land that janitors had forgotten. Emblazoned in the same orange announcement, “The Circle of Tortoise” peered through the grime.

  “Okay, Colonel, this is it. I’ll get the offender and then we can take you to sequester. I’ll escort her back once you’re through.” He rattled the heavy keys with his porky hands.

  To take the will of a mortal was such an evil thing to d
o, thought the deva. There would be no way that they could secure his ward without breaching that will for the second time that day. He knew deep inside that all of his actions, including these transgressions, were a dreadful necessary. “Warden Ginn, please look at me.”

  “Huh?” the pudgy elf turned to Mavriel, a bit startled. Those Aldebaran-types gave him the willies sometimes. “What’cha need?”

  Mavriel stared straight into Ginn’s eyes. “We are taking the offender whom you call Quen’die Reyliss with us. You will not need the sequester room, as she will now be in our custody.”

  As Mavriel spoke his words, Ginn’s mouth lipped them in perfect unison, like a puppet. It almost made the deva cry to see the dazed and stupid look on his face as he put the bull into a trance. Only an infernal would relish this process, and it was quite a brutal one for the mortal mind.

  “Right,” the warden smiled as he swung the bulky cell door aside.

  The bright light that illuminated the center of the room cast the corners into hard shadows. Displayed in that pool of brilliance were Quen’die and Travius pitted against each other face-to-face. It was quite apparent the two had been in the throes of a heated argument.

  “Get up, you two!” Ginn barked. “Each of you - over to your corners!”

  Tam’laa saw that her friend was chained by the foot. How humiliating, she thought as Quen’die scampered onto the shadow of her cot. It took a moment for the elfmaid to discern who was there but, as her eyes adjusted, she could recognize her gold elf comrade.

  Quen’die bit her tongue as she didn’t know or trust her visitors’ motives. Amongst the trio was a tall hooded figure drenched in a thick black cloak. They are in compact with the demons, Quen’die assumed as her heart sank with that thought. Looking over at Travius, she could see that the guru was spooked by the black figure. His face was all but paralyzed by his presence as his mouth made tiny peeps out of its ring. It was apparent, he too had a poor history with their kind and she couldn’t blame him.

  “Here you go,” the warden presented as he unlocked Quen’die’s ankle. “She’s all yours. I’ll go away and forget all about this. Remember to leave via the courthouse.”

  “Tam! What are you doing with them?” Quen’die could not form the question with any ease, but her friends were in ever-shorter supply. It would be no surprise that Tam’laa would also be in league with these fiends. “I…”

  Mavriel unfurled his hood. Thick blond hair poured out of the collar and draped down the side of his chest. The deva looked at his ward in the eyes and smiled. “We’re here to take you home.”

  She looked over at Travius who was still locked in horror at Mavriel’s towering shape. Something wasn’t right, she fretted. “Mavriel! What’s going on?”

  Banda offered Quen’die his hand, yet she recoiled. The smile on his face seemed genuine, but adults were good liars after having years and years of practice at it. “You heard him; we’re here to take you home.”

  “Home,” the maiden repeated as if in a stupor. “So, where is that now?”

  Mavriel stepped forward, deeper into the cell. Lord Na’rundi’s eyes may have been fibbing, but the angel’s were not. “If you come with us, we’ll show you.”

  The Queen of Nothing

  More elves filled the central rotunda of the courthouse as crews of mirrorcasters and assorted technicians blocked and rigged the room for the special broadcast. Feeling a bit pushed aside from her usual limelight, Quay’liss Dalian sat on her personal stool trying not to glare at the young Xochian maiden with professional envy. As she toyed with her microphone by nervous reflex, she wondered how her public ratings had been faring ever since this child became the face of the Atlantean Youth Parliament.

  She couldn’t understand why this maiden was receiving all this press coverage with topics that sometimes didn’t even pertain to her duties. The arrest of Quen’die Reyliss, for instance, really had nothing to do with the AYP. Sure, there had been one of their little officers present at the bust but, for the most part, it was a municipal effort conducted by real adult wardens. Perhaps the viewing public had expected Venn’lith Mitlan to represent the bust since this suspected terrorist was so young. After all, this wee sun elf was becoming all the more popular the world over with each broadcast that featured her on the screen and the manacloud. Already, her public service announcements were going viral and fansites devoted to her “beauty and heroism” were popping up everywhere.

  Looking at her compact for the thousandth time that morning, Dalian ran her index finger down one cheek to search for a wrinkle or any blemishing signs of age. “Mirror, mirror, in my hand. Who’s the fairest in the land?”

  Cadreth, the Aldebaran cabin lad who never left the Xochian’s side, began shooing away the gawking onlookers. “Everyone! This is a closed set! We will begin shooting in ten! Anyone unauthorized, please leave the room!” As he boomed the announcement, his wings flapped slightly for effect. Dalian wondered if that was some sort of autonomic reaction or if their kind did it with conscious effort.

  Prime Warden Mitlan was looking a bit worse for the wear than usual, the newsie noticed. Her skin had a bit of a grey pallor and her personal assistant was applying a base to her face with professional haste. Dalian wondered if she had come down with some variety of a bug.

  “Babydoll, please just hold tight,” her flamboyant artist cooed as she continued to heap lumps of foundation on her subject’s mug. Hoping that Venn’lith would not see, Djaenn grimaced off to the side as she had found the Xochian’s blanched complexion to be rather disturbing. “The Djaenn will have you all sunny again in no time.”

  “Do you think it will ever get back to normal?” Venn’lith almost begged her stylist with a whine. “It’s been nearly a week now. I-I think it’s warming up, but I’m still so…Diosos! I look like an Atlantean! I’ll be like one of the locals basking in a suncasket! Eww…Feas!”

  “Of course it’s warming up!” Djaenn reassured with a lie; the best she could muster. “I see you nearly every day and I can tell it’s getting better. Believe me, I know these things.”

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