Navigating through Mithlis reminded her of the puzzles she did as a child on restaurant menus. The blocks twisted and turned in unnecessary ways, but it gave her a substantial amount of distance from Saesin's home.
Occasionally she would see someone from the Guard speaking with a passerby on the street, but she never noticed any alarm. People frequently offered them smiles as if they had no clue what was wrong on the island.
Faine stalked through the streets calmly, keeping her head down and away from any surveillance systems that might not operate with magic. She had other tricks for the crystalline systems, using the smoke and shadows to manipulate the light around her.
Eventually, she found herself down the cobblestone streets of the Compound once again.
Faine hated the way her boots scraped over the exposed stones, despite their beauty. They had turned slick with rain and although the colors were more vibrant, she wasn't pleased with the added difficulty.
Glass skittered across the ground with the growing breeze, the blown out windows and deformed walls a portrait of the wreckage. Burnt paper and ash drifted through the air as the storm darkened above, electrifying the atmosphere.
She blew out a breath, her hair fluttering away.
Even if paper and technology alike had been corrupted and burned, Faine was certain she could find something among the destruction to prove her theory.
Stepping over the frames of a broken doorway, Faine tried not to shudder as she entered the building. After a few days had passed, the wind cleared the first floor's musty scents.
She expected to see red tape and Guards lining the streets. There were no vehicles, no investigators, and the entire premises appeared void of life.
Faine scoffed to herself. Everything was painfully obvious. There were no investigators because there was nothing to investigate and with Naisene taking accountability for the explosion, no one would question their findings.
The first floor was a wreck with every bit of paper and data destroyed.
She knew that meant she would have to go back down to the medical bays at the very least. Possibly farther.
A wave of nausea churned in her stomach, but she bit back the acidic taste and shoved a deformed chair out of the way. Faine traced her fingers over the scorch marks along the stairwell, turning down a hallway. The walls turned slick underhand as they transitioned to tile, white replacing the dark gray.
The sliding glass doors were blown out, although one creaked ominously as it continued to slam into rubble. Repeated blows had made a significant dent in the beam blocking its path, but still the gap only opened about three feet.
Faine sucked in her gut and held her breath, cramming herself through the small space as jagged bits of metal snagged at her jacket. Awful wafts of death and spoiled chemicals filled the room, worst near the molten cabinets that were now deformed towards the back.
Bunching up an abandoned coat and stuffing it under her nose, she found her way to the left corner where a desk of three different consoles sat. The main computer had a shattered screen with colored lines on the bottom half of the monitor. On the right, the smaller screen seemed mostly untouched until she checked the cords and pressed the power button, left with only fizzling gray space.
The last one wouldn't even turn on, part of the keyboard had melted in the chemical fires.
Her heart sank as she slipped under the desks and went looking for loose paper only to find ash and debris.
One thing. Faine only needed one piece of evidence. One piece of paper with Naisene's name on it or mention of the ambush. One scrap of clothing with their insignia on it.
Then she could and would show Leighton. He'd have to help her if she could prove it.
So Faine stood up and left the bay to try heading downstairs, deeper into the compound and back to one of the prison quarters.
The bodies of former scientists littered the floor. Most of the captives had turned into skeletons and dust, sweeping around along the floor when a draft would carry by. She was intrigued by how much of the building had collapsed, leaving pockets in the ceiling for fresher air to drop down.
The storm outside began churning to life with thunder, the smell of rain carrying through the charred wreckage.
Faine found a broken down door around the corner, filled with filing cabinets and another computer in the center of the room. She could feel her heart pounding beneath her ribs, escalating as she yanked on some of the drawers.
As assumed, they'd been locked. Some of them sounded looser than others, but she knew some agencies filled their cabinets with chemical compounds that would destroy the evidence without original keys.
Faine figured any spare sets would've been melted in the fire. Still, she followed what she remembered of Naisene protocol, opening every desk drawer and tapping the inside for false surfaces. The first one she found was empty as if planned. The second had sheets of paper with formulas on it for one of the elixirs they used in experiments.
"Come on..." she muttered, grappling through the cabinets. Empty vials and beakers were everywhere, though most were completely shattered. "It has to be here somewhere..."
Finally, on the top shelf of one of the cabinets, Faine found a tiny key the size of a battery and pulled it out. The top was cracked and slightly deformed, but she was certain it would work in one of the offices.
She keyed the first two drawers with no luck.
The third and final drawer captured her key and kept it. The more she yanked, the more stuck it became.
Faine sighed through her nose and fought the frustrated scream bubbling up inside of her chest. She hissed at the door angrily and fell to her knees.
Time for plan B.
Concentrating as best she could, Faine willed her fingers into shadows, followed by her hand, and stuck them into the door. The metal was cool and crisp against her essence, breezing over the skin of her arm as she grabbed onto a folder and slowly pulled it back out with her.
She didn't know if it was going to work, she had no idea. But in her lap sat one of the few pages left untouched in the entire building. The edges were singed and some of the wording had been redacted, but her gaze locked onto the most important part.
Naisene recruits to undergo extreme testing before released into ... with xenon-cx gas still localized ... veins for further testing ...
Faine wanted to puke at the mention of their name, but she knew she needed more proof than the mere mention of their unit.
On the second page, she found herself biting her lip as a black-and-white picture of Trace faded against the burns.
Mt. Signet trials begin on the 16th of April, where the responding subjects will be brought to ... and ... for future development and indoctrination.
Faine snorted.
Indoctrination was only a fancy word for brainwashing.
The sound of footsteps set her on high alert. Snapping the file shut in her hands, she tucked it inside her jacket and shrunk beneath one of the countertops.
The sound of crunching debris stopped outside the door before she heard someone enter the room.
A man scoffed and squatted down outside of her hiding spot.
"Now what would you have done if I was someone else?" Leighton deadpanned. His face was flat, at a loss for emotions with his brow raised in challenge.
Honestly, she wasn't certain. Faine's heart was too busy thundering in her chest, alive with adrenaline.
"Attacked," she answered, surprising herself with the odd calm in her voice. "I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will."
He grunted, looking away. "Why am I not surprised?"
"How did you find me anyway?" Faine asked.
Leighton rolled his eyes and stood, offering his hand to her. She stared in awe at the scars lining his arm before grabbing his hand.
"I knew you'd go off with or without me..." he muttered, his frown deepening. "But I also knew you'd come look for evidence, you'd try to convince me to join you first. We never do anything apart, I knew you hadn't given up on me yet."
"Should I have?"
A dangerous question and one that made Faine's nausea surge again in anticipation.
"I reported my survival to Naisene," he answered, sighing. "They've sent me to retrieve you, to get you help."
Before her heart could plummet straight into her hips, Faine's eyes narrowed. Despite his honesty and apparent reluctance, Leighton was still answering her question.
Naisene didn't want to help her.
And with or without him, Faine would go to Mt. Signet and look for Trace. Obvious or not, it was her best chance at avenging them.
She took a step back, edging towards the door.
"Faine," Leighton begged, those amber eyes softening. "Please don't make this harder than it has to be."
Her eyes only hardened, her stance widening in defense.
"Are you telling me there is nothing I can say to convince you?" she asked again.
The sadness in his gaze was overwhelming. The words lie there between them, carved into those stunning irises.
She felt the tingling in the air first, watching as his hand stretched out beside him. The time for questions had passed and his shadows danced with electricity. Leighton was prepared to use force, willing to detain her if necessary.
Faine shook her head, if only to herself. She wouldn't hurt him, she wasn't willing to fight him.
Scouring the depths of her power, she found the swirling smoke and shadow pooling in her core. The magic was chilling and gentle and strong. Whispers echoed in her ears again, those distant secrets brushing against her consciousness.
"I'm sorry, Leigh," Faine said carefully.
She saw her way out in a flurry of wings and feathers, her body dissolving into the silhouettes of a dozen crows.
Casting the fragments of her soul in various directions, she used Leighton's bewilderment to her advantage and banked for the exit. Faine beat her wings hard and fast, flying toward one of the gaping cells where she knew a hole had been melted into the roof.
Conscious of every bird in her flock, she pulled inward and escaped into the lobby where the glass was shattered.
Lightning skittered off the walls, trailing in the wake of her last replica.
With a quick thought, the bird evaporated into nothing. Smoke floated in its absence, creating a screen for her last turn. Leighton yelled after her, cursing as she maneuvered with ease.
Faine dove under a fallen beam before finding her way out of the Compound.
The scent of justice and liberation coated her senses like the coming rain.
She flew into the storm, unafraid.