Naihabi Ridge

Chapter Twenty-Two - Mission, Part II

Swords glistened in the lamplight, aimed at me and my cabin-mates. There was no wind, no breeze, nowhere to go back to. I was frozen, stock-still, and my eyes were wide as I recognized the features ahead of me.

Master Romia.

She had several comrades beside her, her sword pointed directly at my heart, though she was twenty feet away.

My broken collarbone throbbed and I wondered what Soha was doing, then I swiveled around at movement behind me. Torin had come bounding out from behind a building to catch up to us, then his grin slowly became confused and he melted into a stop, his eyebrows raising when he saw the swords. Practically everyone was staring at him now, but he showed no embarrassment as he slid up next next to me.

"What did you do?" He whispered in my ear.

"I looked at him, offended, "I did not—"

I stopped at the sound of Master Romia's short, grim laugh. It let out to a cold quiet. "Avi, you are my apprentice. Why don't you trust me?"

The silence hung in the air like fog. Then my temper rose as the injustice of her words set in. Why did I not trust her? I wanted to save my cabin-mates and that wasn't in her plans. She would have just let them die here in that torture-hole of a summoning building. I didn't need to prove myself to her.

"Maybe because you're pointing your sword at me, Master," a few murmurs echoed through both groups. "I could ask you the same thing. It's mutual, isn't it? Trust? If you trusted me then you wouldn't have to chase after me when I try to save my allies."

This made the silence return. A small breeze hit, whistling faintly through the quiet. I felt a pang of betrayal run through my chest and through my limbs when I saw her face go blank. Not even a response. She talked about trust when she didn't hold any herself. Some master, huh?

I turned on my heel to face my group and shot my fist above my head. "We continue on our course. Our weapons won't break just as our determination stays strong."

For a solid moment, everyone just stared at me and I felt a small bit of what Torin must have felt, but then they unsheathed their makeshift weapons: wooden nunchucks made from the bedposts; stolen daggers, carved stakes. We were prepared.

I swiveled around again and glared at the woman in front of me, my eyes burning with a new feeling I'd never felt before. I saw surprise hit the expressions of many of her allies and I didn't bother wondering why. "If you do not move, we will move you by force."

"Avi, that's not—"

"We will escape without your help. You would not have saved them. I will."

"Look!" Someone behind me hissed and I followed their outstretched arm to a figure coming toward us in the distant lamplight.

I heard Master Romia curse loudly, "That's the vigil." She immediately took control of the groups, ordering them without missing a beat. "All of you, follow me. We have to get back, now!"

And just like that, everyone followed her. Furious, I balled my hands into fists as my cabin-mates fled and I was left with no other choice but to follow them. How was this fair? I couldn't think as I ran so I grit my teeth and ran faster, bracing my collarbone; the throbbing had become worse and worsened still as I ran.

It didn't take very long until I heard the vigil yelling for reinforcements. Someone would have to silence him before they got here or everything would fail completely. We would be cornered and probably killed in the summoning building, then the rebellion would entirely collapse. We could not be caught.

I snatched the nunchucks from Eilo before he noticed and swiveled around, running toward the vigil. I heard some commotion from the groups behind me, but I ignored it. I had never used nunchucks solely with my non-prominent hand, but the throbbing had turned to a burning in my collar and it became clear that it would be impossible to use my right arm at all.
    
The vigil saw me and brought out a sword with one hand and another, smaller object with the other. I didn't have time to focus on it before I swung the nunchucks around in a basic, deadly circle with my left hand, twirling the weapon to meet the sword as he tried to strike. I knocked his blade, my mind a tornado of negative emotions, then I glanced at the object in the vigil's other hand and a sharp pain sliced across my nunchuck arm. A shallow cut.
    
I grimaced, meeting his blade again and again but finding myself unable to land a hit. Who did Master Romia think she was? Why did she never consider my opinions? I grunted with a swing and crack went the vigil's arm as the nunchuck hit it. He screamed and I lunged forward. I tackled him, knocked his blade away, and began choking him. He thrashed under me, his scream cut off, and I saw every crevice and feature on his face as it turned red, purple, then he stopped thrashing and laid still, unconscious. I didn't move, though.

My hand hovered over his neck, feeling his rapid pulse, and my thoughts whirled around in my head like a whirlwind of aggravated, irritated, manipulative emotions. Wicked, terrible emotions. They struck my head for seconds, then blew away. Fleeting thoughts... Horrible thoughts... My grip tightened on the man's neck as they blended into one, twisted voice whispering inside my head.
    
What if I killed this man?...
    
The wind blew and my surroundings returned; the distant shouts from the coming collectors and the sounds of a dark desert night. The calm breeze that caused a slightly cool itch on my dirty skin, the heat that followed. The collectors that were coming...

The collectors that were coming?...
    
My eyes widened and I gasped, leaping off the vigil, then I took him by the shirt one-handedly and dragged him painstakingly across the edge of the path and behind a building. I hid, trying to quiet my pant, just as bright lamps lit the pathway and the collectors' shouts hesitantly paused. They were searching, I thought, confused about the quietness. Then from out of the blue a single, controlled voice called out a series of indecipherable orders and the stomping continued. What were they doing?
    
The footsteps scattered in all different directions and my breath caught in my throat as I saw a collector walk out from the corner I was hiding behind and stop inches from my face. His breath hit my cheeks, hot and fetid, but I focused on his eyes as they stared straight into mine.
    
We both stood there for a moment, eye-to-eye, victim and villain, then the collector turned on his heel soldier-style and tromped back down the alley and out to the path. My mouth opened, dumbfounded, then I clamped it shut. No time to wonder. No time to explain. No time to do anything except run. So I did.
    
I weaved in between the alleys out of sight of the collectors' lamplight and my head spun. My shoulder shot strikes of pain through my body, but it all seemed numb and distant. I dodged the corners, fences, and lamps, then I suddenly recognized Master Romia's courtyard. My chest heaved, my blood cold, and I ran straight toward her office. I hoped so, so badly that it wasn't locked.
    
My good shoulder collided with the door and I fumbled with the knob. It twisted and the door fell open under my pressure. I fell on the floor, stumbled forward into the room, and slammed the door shut behind me and locked it with a shaking hand.
    
My breaths came fast as my pain returned to me and I clenched my jaw, pressing my back up against the door. My shoulder burned uncontrollably and the cut on my arm suddenly didn't seem so shallow. I looked down at the blood smeared all over my sleeve and saw that it ran all the way down to my hand. I hadn't left blood on Master Romia's door, had I? Would that give my location away?
    
My breath came heavy and labored, then I shook my head and looked around the room for a medical kit. There was a lamp in the corner that lit the room and my mind recognized everything exactly how it had been the last time I was here. There had to be a medical kit, right? Master Romia wasn't the executive of punishments for nothing, was she? Had she taken it with her to one of the rebel bases? I stood with considerable effort and staggered over to her desk. I shoved the chair to the side and pulled open the drawers. Files... files...
    
A wave of relief ran through me when I opened the third drawer and saw a worn leather pouch with a cross on it. I took it out and put it on the desk, then I looked once again at my bloody sleeve. How could I wrap my own arm one-handedly?
    
After a moment of consideration, I closed my eyes for a second and unwrapped the dirty sling from around my arm, letting it fall to the floor. My shoulder immediately began stressing without the support and I took in a deep breath; I would have to be very careful about what I did next.
    
Using my right arm, I tenderly undid the black ties on the sleeves and took my shirt off, running it carefully over my shoulder and down my arm in a meticulous effort not to disrupt my collarbone. It throbbed, but I couldn't worry about it just then.

I lifted my left arm to examine the scratch and sucked in a tight breath. It was a deep, bloody slice, slightly jagged, that went across the side of my upper arm. It didn't stop bleeding, either. Blood ran in long streaks down to my fingertips and I glanced at the floor to see several stray drips and small splatters on the ground. How could I not have noticed it was that bad?

My vision went out of focus for a second, my head becoming fuzzy, and I shuddered. It would most likely have to be stitched, but I couldn't stitch myself with my collarbone the way it was. Binding it would have to do for now.

I opened the pouch and immediately saw a whip. Why would Master Romia keep that there...? I moved it to the side and saw a bottle of pills, alcohol, and a surgical knife. I grabbed the alcohol and dug deeper until I found a piece of cloth and a wad of gauze, then I took a moment to try calming my nerves. It wasn't working in the least.

I opened the alcohol flask and leaned my arm on the desk, then poured a good amount of the alcohol directly into the wound.

I gasped, a sensation so hot it was cold running through the whole left side of my body. My knees buckled and I moaned loudly, the fiery pain reaching my head. The world split in two, each moving with their own sense, and I slid down to the floor, my whole body shivering, then I attempted to control my breath again. I had to escape and get back to the others... I had to...

My throat was dry. My legs shook, the pain from my collar dulled, and I took in a rattled breath to steady my senses. I took another breath, then I attempted to stand. It didn't go very well. My legs shook too much and I just fell back down. Then I saw the chair and a pained smile curved my lips. I pulled the arm of the chair as I made my second attempt, then I plopped down in the chair with a shot of pain through my collarbone and sighed. This was relentless.

I looked at the medical kit, took the piece of cloth and placed it over the cut, then I unwrapped the gauze with shaky hands and placed the end over the piece of cloth and made a loop. I went around and around again, wrapping more and more of my arm as tightly as I could—which wasn't saying much at the moment—until I reached the end of the gauze and tied it to the first end. It was sloppy, but I was done dealing with the meaningless pain and I was in dire need of some sleep.

I shook my head. Maybe once I made it to the others.

A sudden wind blew on the door and it rattled against its frame. I took another moment to recuperate, then I stood and my stomach lurched. I wobbled for a second, then I stuffed my shirt in the medical kit along with the alcohol and other misplaced things. I picked the wrapping of my sling up from the floor and delicately, sloppily wrapped my arm back through it, then I flipped the medical pouch over my other shoulder and went to the lamp. Master Romia wouldn't be needing this lit anymore, I didn't suppose, so I put it out, which left the room in complete darkness as there weren't any windows. I felt my way over to the door, unlocked it, and pushed it open.

The night air had become warm and there was a small flush of pink on the horizon. It was almost sunrise.

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Hello!! (//∇//)
*clears throat*
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