RAVAGED HEARTS | CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
NOW,
THE CARRIAGE MADE its way hazardously down the unpaved road, the stones and sticks on the ground causing it to bump up and down, tossing the people inside along with it. Io gritted her teeth on the fourth time she'd almost been thrown into Louis' lap. Her hands wrapped tightly around the window of the panel door, the curtain tickling her hand. But she didn't let go, goddamnit, because damn if she was to be dumped into a position like that. The Enrique Zevallos twins might not see anything wrong with it, but Constanza would be on her ass again—her friend already despised the fact that she had been working so closely with Louis for the past few days. No need to do anything that would irritate Constanza Castrillo even more. Most especially considering the fact they'd be stuck together on this mission for a few days in some relatively remote, abandoned small town with nowhere to escape to.
Just tragic.
But it was for a good cause, so Io could handle a bit of nagging on Constanza's part and Louis' hopeful stares. Every time she caught him, all she could think was: oh, how the tables have turned.
If she'd once been the one staring hopelessly, hoping he could be hers, it was the exact opposite now.
She ignored him, because he could use some suffering, really. She'd had to live with what he was going through right now but even worse for years. He'd been going through it for what, a month?
Yes, he could remain right where he was.
Constanza wrinkled her nose. "Remind me to tell the transportation department to get this area cleared up."
Anita replied, "Don't know if we have the budget to spare for it."
Io remained silent, trying her best to be invisible. As the only non-Vayantean agent here, she was in a rather awkward situation.
Louis said, "And that's for the treasury to worry about us, not us intelligence operatives. We have enough to worry about enough, no need to add more to the workload, you know."
The carriage fell back into silence. Io let her head lean against the panel. She asked, "How much longer?"
It was their second day on the carriage. They should be approaching Saria any time now.
Celinos frowned. "We've been travelling a bit slower than expected. I'd give it two more hours before we reach Saria, really. You could all get some extra sleep if you want to, we might not be getting any once we arrive. We'll have to scout the place out immediately." The Vayanteans hadn't been keeping tabs on Saria, and neither had the Saians. It was one of those places you completely glossed over on every map even though it was always there.
"Two hours," Io groaned, shaking her head and rubbing her forehead. "I'll sleep, damnit, wake me when we're there."
Constanza nodded beside her. "I'll do the same."
Louis looked out the window, pushing the curtains aside slightly. Io dropped her hand back on her lap. He didn't seem to notice, whistling out a quick tune. Soon, two birds landed on the window frame. They all watched, equal part fascinated and equal part amused, as Louis started whistling to them and they sang back. A moment later, both birds flew off. Constanza raised a brow.
"They'll watch out for us," Louis said. "I'm tired too."
Celinos stated, "I'll still stay awake, just in case." Turning to his sister, he said, "Hermana, puedes dormir si quieres."
Anita shook her head. "I'm fine. Don't need to sleep. I got enough last night." How she'd gotten any decent sleep considering the turbulent journey they had the night before, Io had no idea. Though she supposed both of the twins were children who grew up under warfire–they'd probably slept through worse.
Wasn't her problem, though. She turned away and slowly dozed off.
-♡-
LOUIS WAS FIVE when he'd first learned he was wiccai. Before that, his parents and family had all just thought he was being a child, pretending to talk with the birds. What child hadn't pretended to have superpowers before?
It was his uncle, who was involved in espionage work all around the world and had met plenty of wiccai, who'd realised it one spring evening, when he saw Louis whistling the tunes to the birds, giggling and laughing as they brought him back all the seeds and leaves he'd requested in childish wonder.
Louis hadn't realised it yet, but from then on, his uncle had started grooming him for the life of a special operative. Teaching him the necessary skills, guiding him in his path. His uncle had known Louis would be an assist to Vayante. He'd seen the tension brewing between Vayante and Melique, knew it may not end well for their country and decided to contribute all he could.
Louis had been the plan. But then the war started far faster than anyone ever expected, his uncle died and the Sanchezes went on the run.
But his uncle's efforts had still paid off, hadn't they? Here Louis was, a top Vayantean agent (ignore the part where he worked for the Caershireens for around ten years), on his way to finish off the last factions of Meliquean power.
His uncle had been a wise man, a smart man, someone who saw what laid in their path and prepared him for it. He wished, sometimes, that his uncle was still here with him. Navigating the war torn world he now inhabited.
But he wasn't.
Louis was alone. It hadn't sunk into him until recently, because he always felt like he was surrounded by friends and allies. He didn't talk much with his family. They didn't understand him, and he didn't understand them. The one member who truly appreciated him and who he loved back was his little sister, Martina, but she'd married off far away to Wheldrake a few years ago and communication became sparse. She was oceans away.
He was solitary—there were few agents in the Vayantean service who were up to his calibur, and the ones who were, such as Castrillo, didn't like him all that much or were solitary creatures themselves. He was left with the friends he'd made in his years in Caershire, but most of them barely travelled to Vayante. And as work got busier, correspondence lessened, became a hassle. There was, quite simply, no point in it.
Maybe that helped drive his desperate quest to win back Io's friendship and care. Simple loneliness. Because in all these years Io had been the only person to truly understand him. Io had gone through many of the same experiences as him, seen the same things, dealt with the same situations. They used to be able to communicate with a look and even though time had changed that it didn't wash away all of that. Tid bits of it were left.
He clenched his fists. Turned his head to look out at the window, unable to fall asleep. He knew he should get some rest, which made his restlessness even more irritating. He'll have a busy next few days, he ought to get some sleep. Ought to be prepared for it.
Oh well. He'd gone through worse with even less hours with his eyes shut beforehand. He'll survive, as always. Ought to be considered a miracle at this point, the amount of things he'd done with only an hour or two of sleep under his belt. But he was getting older. He wouldn't be able to keep this up forever.
That was a tragic thought, if he must be honest. He was only twenty-six, he was too young to feel this way. But he was, and there was nothing he could really do about it. He was one of those non-lethal casualties of war. The ones who survived untouched, but had something taken from them. Something they could never get back.
A few years of childhood bliss, perhaps. The sweetness of first love, of family, of strong friendships and nights carousing around shining cities, not a care in the world. He was stripped of all that. Instead he had to devote his life to a cause and fight battles alone with no one at his back.
Yes, lonely. That's what he was.
Enough self-pitying for one day. He watched as they sped past trees and woods. Once in a while they saw a farmer's hut, surrounded by pastures with sparse livestock and crops. This area hadn't developed much in the past ten years. Before it had only been used as a military base. Once the Meliqueans lost, the new Meliquean government was far more interested in rebuilding friendships and the capital to care about small border towns like Saria, where most people never went anyways. No one travelled to and from Melique and Vayante using the shared border anymore. Most went by ship, except for the occasional mail coach. Probably because the roads had been destroyed during the war and no one had bothered rebuilding them, so it was much slower. But even if they went by ship, Saria was an inland town. It would take the same amount of time.
And hence, this bumpy little journey.
Two hours, he told himself, two hours before he could get off. Before they started running around Saria trying to find Io's fucking father and the kidnapped children he was keeping. If you told him a week ago this was the situation he'd find himself in, he'd have laughed in your face.
He screwed his eyes together, putting up the portrait of restful slumber. Except he was still painfully awake and on alert, not quite having complete trust in Celinos' skills, especially since they were likely going to encounter Falcons. Only he and Io were equipped to handle them in this carriage. The reinforcement agents were only coming in tomorrow, but even those guys wouldn't be able to stand their own against trained wiccai.
He grimaced to himself. If only the Saians had sent along an Iron Wolf or two. That would have made this entire mission a thousand times easier. But the Wolves seemed to have reverted to the state they were in before the start of the war. Most of them stayed in Sai, dealing with domestic matters rather than international. Maybe it was because they realised that they were now the only country with the Falcons gone that had such a force of wiccai at their bidding. Maybe they wanted the rest of the world to forget, for them to slowly fade into the background until needed once more.
It was clever.
But he really, really wished there was another wiccai with him right now.
-♡-
THEY ARRIVED AT the little inn right before nightfall. They carried the luggage they had into the place, greeting the innkeeper and his wife. As everyone started to get settled in, the innkeeper made his way towards Io. He was a relatively shorter man with hard eyes and a serious face. Not the most friendly, but he looked like someone who could be relied on. She tilted her head in silent question.
He said, "Someone's here for you, Miss."
Io's brows creased. "I'm sure you're mistaken. Who?"
"I cannot tell you, Miss, but if you'd just follow me? I'll lead you to them." He shrugged, raising his hands helplessly. Now Io's suspicion and curiosity was roused. So she followed, though her hand crept to the dagger she had hidden behind her sleeve, just in case it was necessary. Meeting mysterious strangers in unknown places was one easy way to get yourself attacked or killed.
They made their way down a few corridors and Io kept track of the turns they took, just in case. Finally, they reached a room—one of the single-person ones, it seemed, and the innkeeper knocked twice before the door swung open.
Io stepped inside. The innkeeper turned and said, "Give me a call if you need me. I'll give you two some privacy for now."
Io's brows creased as she turned back to the dark room, the curtains pulled tight. There was a small door in the corner, probably leading to the washroom. She cleared her throat.
The door opened, and light streamed in for it. Candlelight, flickering around, instantly brightened up the room.
Rhysa Jiang said, "Bloody hell, Mi, I thought you'd never get here." She placed the candle down on a table, shaking her head. "Was beginning to think I'd gotten to the wrong place or Saria was a bloody front for your real destination."
"Rhys?" Io asked, nonplussed. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Is that the first thing you say to me after nine months of silence?" Rhys demanded. "I was expecting a bit more welcoming, you know. Gladness at seeing an old friend come and offer help. I travelled all the way from Sai for this."
"I told the duke—"
"You told the duke you'd somehow miraculously heard of this mission, knew we were sending agents over, sent yourself over and then never responded to any of our letters. Io, can you really blame him for being concerned enough he asked one of us to come with? You vanished for nine months, Io—almost ten, actually. We're all worried about you."
"I'm fine."
Rhys brushed back her smooth, dark hair, glossy under the candlelight. "If you were fine, you wouldn't have ran away for nine months."
"I'm fine now."
"You're chasing down your own bloody father, Io," Rhys shot back matter-of-factly. "I don't think you're fucking fine."
"How did you—"
Rhys shrugged in that annoying way of hers. "They kept Sinclair and Sterling updated, I just paid them a visit and got everything I needed to know. You know, I never expected Prince Jing Huan to have child kidnapper on his resume, it just seems a bit... fantastical and ridiculous, if you get what I mean."
"I do," Io said politely, "but what the fuck, Rhys?"
The woman raised a finger. "I should be asking you that. Disappearing off the planet for nine months, Io? Not good friend behaviour. And it was right after the end of the war too, do you know how worried we were? We searched all over the bloody globe."
"Explains why everyone with the tiniest bit of their feet in the world of espionage knows what happened," Io tilted her head and walked towards the sofa at the end of the room, sitting down. "Light a few more bloody candles, Rhys. You could stumble over your own feet here."
"Well, if you must know, the reason it's so blasted dark in here is because I was using my powers and didn't want to be seen." She walked towards a window. "Rather than light more candles, I could simply push this open, you realise this, Io?"
In the now fully illuminated room, the two women shared a blank glance. "Yes, Rhys, I do."
Bloody hell.
Rhysa Jiang was steel and fire. Growing up, Io had looked up to her spirit, her stubbornness, her cunning efficiency. Even now, she looked at the woman and felt envious. Part of that childish admiration was still there.
Io decided to ask, "Why are you here?"
"Why, I'm here to help," Rhys replied, her hand flying to her chest. "What, don't want my aid? You'll probably be dealing with Falcons. Louis Sanchez is wiccai, yes, but his powers aren't combat-oriented and he's not the most skilled with his abilities either. I was one of them, Io."
"I know that," Io said quietly, "it caused quite the stir back then."
Rhys' eyes took on a glossy look, suddenly lost in the past. "It did cause quite a stir, didn't it? Ah well." She shook her head and straightened. "Those were the days, huh?"
She was at her worst around that time, but she said nothing. That was shortly after her fallout with Louis, she almost hadn't been there when Rhys' true identity had been revealed. That was a strange thought. That time, she'd wanted to hide too, but Danna had dragged her out kicking and screaming. She had no chance, no opportunity to hide away. It was why she did so this time—maybe part of her wanted to know what would happen if she left it all behind. How would they react?
Rhys shook her head. "Ah well, ah well. Do you have a plan?"
Io tilted her head. "Find them first, for starters. It has crossed my mind that locating them is quite important. Shouldn't be too difficult to find a group of Falcons and an exiled prince in a small town."
Rhys asked, "Did you bring your captives?"
Io shook her head. "We decided at the end that it wasn't worth the risk. If either escaped, the Falcons would be alerted and they'd flee. Not sure if we could find them again, and the most important thing is to retrieve the children right now."
"And your father?"
"Why is everyone so concerned with what I'd do with my father?" Io asked, creasing her brows. "If he gets in my way I'll deal with him. If he's smart I might just leave him alone. I'm sure he's already suffering enough in this little town rather than the splendour of Sai."
"You're certain."
"I'm not that hungry for revenge."
"I want to believe you've grown up. But at the same time, I've fallen into the same trap as you before—Contreras was a bastard, but I wanted to spare him at first too. Until I was left with no choice." Rhys raised her chin. "Whatever choice you make, I'll back you, you know that?"
That was why she loved and adored Rhysa Jiang. Her unrivalled loyalty, her acute understanding of those she cared about.
"I know, I know," she said. "I know that."
That was the difference. Rhys was someone who'd known her since she was little, watched her grow up, stuck by her all these years. Even when she tried to push Rhys away, she stayed, Io's own guardian angel. Louis understood her. Once. But when he looked at her he still saw the naive, young girl who needed to be watched after, who was impulsive and never thought before she jumped. Constanza met her when Io was seventeen, already far more mature. And they became the closest after her fallout with Louis, when she'd been at her most cynical and most cold-blooded.
She wished both of them realised she'd changed since then. That she didn't need either of them to watch out for her. That she could handle her own. Fight for herself.
Rhys walked over and wrapped her arms around Io, burying her head in Io's shoulder. "I fucking missed you, kid."
Io blinked back an unexpected tear. "I missed you too, Briar. I missed you too."