"Halt," the ogern spokesman said when I got within three paces of the group. "You are to don this mask whenever you are taken from this pen." He gestured, and one of their party approached me while the rest shifted their weapons to more ready poses. Before I could decide whether this was worth trying to resist, she reached me and slapped a piece of black cloth over my mouth.
I cringed backward at the hair-raising sensation of the 'mask' moving on its own to wrap securely around my lower face. It pressed my scruffy beard down as it covered everything from just below my nose and cheekbones to where my chin met my neck. I worked my jaw and tugged at the itchy spots, quickly finding that the cloth stretched and contracted as needed to keep itself in place over my mouth.
"Do not attempt to remove that mask," the ogern leader instructed. "Pulling too much will trigger your suppressor. Now," he barked as he and his group moved to surround me, "come." And they began marching me toward the gate.
Clever. Very clever. It was such an elegant solution I couldn't help but admire it. I met Steel's eyes as we passed, curious if he understood what this mask meant. If his incredulous, open-mouthed expression was anything to judge by, he did indeed. I gave a single, quiet chuckle I don't think he heard. This mask they were making me wear was proof the Sylvan took the threat of my fire-breath seriously. It was probably fire-proof, and either way it would catch any venom I expelled and hold the burning liquid right against my own face. If I tried to remove the barrier, I'd end up in that stunned, docile state again. It seemed like an effective muzzle, and I was not willing to test it. While my skin now produced its own fire retardant, I'd learned in my training with Anea that this didn't protect me from the heat my flames generated before they were snuffed out.
I shuddered and fought down a sudden surge of nausea. The thought of burning myself summoned vivid flashes of screaming figures wreathed in sheets of white-yellow fire, the sickening stench of burning hair and skin, and the blackened bones and flesh of one who survived my fire-breath. I gritted my teeth and forced my focus back out of my own head as my escort ushered me through the gate. Then we began the march back to the Sylvan's central cluster of tents.
It was a profound relief when we made it far enough to leave the nonstop stream of voices behind, leaving only a faint, dull buzz in its place. Silence. Sweet, sweet silence. I reveled in the quiet for a few more minutes, until I noticed that my ears were actually pretty itchy with the cotton stuffed into them. Since I wouldn't need to talk to any English speakers until Vaa'len was done with me, I pulled my headband up and removed the stuffing. I shuddered at the sight of the yellow glaze of earwax they'd accumulated over the past few hours, then stowed them and the headband in an otherwise empty vest pocket.
A strange sound caught my attention then, and I looked up to see we were passing the clearing with the canvas hangars I'd noticed yesterday. What the hell are they keeping in there? I wondered, trying and failing to place the alien mix of low growls, squawks, and blood-freezing screeches emanating from the gigantic tents. Whatever they are, they're big and they sound pissed. There was no way to get any further hints though, and we soon left the mystery behind us as I was led further through the eerie quiet of the huge encampment.
The silence was broken again by the sounds of laughing kids at play. My guards stopped and tightened their ring around me as a group of four or five sylvan children came pelting onto the path ahead of us from between the close-packed tents. One of them noticed my guards and me and stopped short to stare. This caused the kid right behind to collide and knock them both to the ground. The rest of the group carried on without the two stragglers, who were now picking themselves up as they both continued to stare.
"That's got to be him!" the one who'd first noticed me exclaimed to his friend, pointing excitedly. I thought they might be a boy and girl, but it was hard to tell. Both had long hair like every sylvan I'd seen, male and female, and wore simple clothes of light brown pants with long, muted green shirts hanging down to their hips. "The one Mom and Dad told us about."
"How do you know?" The second, the one I thought was a she due to the slightly higher voice asked as she eyed me doubtfully. "He's supposed to be part dragon. This one looks like any of the other humans." The boy rolled his eyes at her.
"Those parts are on the inside, stupid. Of course he looks the same."
"Hey! I'm not stupid! You're stupid!" The ogern right in front of me shifted uncomfortably as the kids in front of us descended into an argument and shoving match over who was stupider. Eventually he decided the young sylvan weren't going to move off the path without prompting, so he cleared his throat.
"Young masters, if you would stand to the side, we would greatly appreciate it. We must take this human to the Central Complex, and you are blocking our way. He is very dangerous, and we are not to let him approach too close to any younglings."
"Dangerous?" The little girl asked. "How? He's wearing a suppressor. He can't do anything to us." The boy's eyes suddenly widened.
"Ooh! Make him breathe fire! He's supposed to breathe fire like a dragon right? Make him do it! I want to see!" Two of the ogern behind me grabbed my shoulders and dragged me back a few steps as the two sylvan kids scampered closer. The three ogern still in front spread out and crouched to block them from getting any closer.
"What are you doing?!" the boy demanded, indignant.
"Yeah, get out of the way," the girl ordered.
"I cannot," the leader said stiffly. "This is for your own prot-"
"I said: make him breathe fire!" the boy shouted again. Adult sylvan were starting to poke their heads out of the surrounding tents now, drawn by the noise. This only seemed to embolden the kids. "You have to do what I say!"
"I have specific orders from-" the lead ogern tried explaining again and was again interrupted.
"You're just an ogern! You have to do what I say," the first little sylvan repeated while the other bobbed her head in agreement. Both were wearing wicked grins now, and the adults watching seemed to share their mirth. Not one did a thing to help the ogern with their predicament.
"Listen," I muttered to the female ogern restraining my left arm. "I swear on my life, I won't lay a finger on those kids. Just march me straight past them, I won't try anything." They ignored me. I found that a little insulting, but I thought I understood what was going on. They had their orders, and no promise from me would change them.
"Turn around," the leader ordered over his shoulder. "We don't have time for this." The guards did as he said and we quickly marched back the way we came. One of them was keeping a firm hand on my shoulder, but they weren't dragging or shoving me along. I glanced backward, and sure enough, the two kids were following us. A few dozen steps later, the boy ran off while the little girl kept jogging along behind. The rear guard saw the same thing I did.
"Jex, one ran off. Might be going for the rest we saw." The lead ogern, Jex, heaved a weary sigh.
"Of course. Alright, we'll approach from the south. The tents aren't packed so tight there. It will be harder for them to block us. Hok, go straight to the Central Complex and try to find a supervisor who will assist. The last thing I want is an incident involving younglings."
The tents thinned out as we backtracked. After a few minutes, the guards led me off the path we'd been following, then we began weaving between the tents. There were plenty of sylvan going about their own business: washing clothes, preparing food, reading from or writing in books. It would have been just like the human section, except hardly anyone was speaking. In fact, almost all the voices I heard here belonged to children. The only time a more mature voice popped up he was clearly talking to one or more of the kids. The brat from earlier was still doggedly tailing us, but as the ogern hustled me between the tents, I began to hope we'd lost the others.
"Hey! Here they are!" Of course not!
"Damn," Jex muttered. Before he could give an order, some ten to twelve young sylvan appeared between the tents ahead of us. "Left. Around them," he directed. But the kids followed, and the racket they were making was attracting others. More appeared from every direction and within moments, we would have to push past one or two to even go back the way we'd come. The ogern were unwilling to do that, so we were stuck. The racket attracted the adults' attention again, and again they did nothing to intercede and only watched with obvious amusement. The ring contracted steadily as each kid edged just a bit closer every few seconds.
"Stay back!" Jex warned. "For your own safety stay back! This human is highly dangerous!" He and two of his fellows spread out as much as they could to block the kids from getting close without leaving big gaps while the other grabbed both of my arms from behind. I stood still, arms relaxed at my sides, making it as clear as possible I would not be trying anything. Then the little troublemaker who'd started this whole mess stepped forward with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Make him breathe fire!" He ordered, stealing glances left and right, reveling in the spectacle he'd created. "You make him breathe fire right now!"
Jex said nothing as the other kids started joining in, their shouts and jeers getting more insulting by the second. As the standoff persisted, I noticed only one or two of the kids were actually looking at me. With a jolt, I realized the game they were playing was now all about harassing my ogern guards. They could care less about me. Before long, one of the kids broke into a run and tried to dart between the three outer guards, probably aiming to tag me. The one to Jex's left caught her with a massive hand across the chest, and the kid threw herself backward onto the ground and began wailing.
"She hit me! She hit me!" the brat screamed, clutching her stomach as she rolled back and forth, really hamming it up. Now several adults quickly closed in, their eyes glowing as they summoned magic. But before anything else could happen, a hoarse, familiar voice called out over the noise.
"What on earth is going on here?!" Vaa'len thundered as she stormed through the camp, flanked by Hok and three more ogern. She glared at the crowd. "Clear off, all of you! Why are you accosting my guards and subject?!" Subject?! As in, test subject?!! I seethed silently as most of the young sylvan scattered. Vaa'len eyed the stragglers, one of whom was the one who'd been pretending to be hurt. She was still sitting on the ground, holding her stomach with tears rolling down her cheeks. That sight made me second-guess my assumption that she'd been faking. "What happened to you?" Vaa'len rasped, impatient.
The little one lifted a hand to point at one of the ogern. "She hit me!" she whined.
Vaa'len looked to the other adult sylvan still hanging around for a moment, then turned to the ogern being accused. "They say they saw you knock her to the ground. Explain yourself."
"Your grace, I deeply apologize for any pain I caused, but I was following our orders and protecting the little one from her own foolishness. She was trying to get past us and come far too close to the fire-breather. I had no choice but to stop her, but I did not intend to hurt her."
"You hit me!" the little girl squealed again, though I could see a malicious grin peeking through from behind the tears. You little bitch.
"I saw it," I spoke up. I pointed to the guard in question. "All she did was put a hand out to stop her. She didn't swing her arm. From where I was standing, it looked like the girl threw herself onto the ground."
Vaa'len considered me for a moment, then turned back to the little girl. Another sylvanni was with her now, fussing over and consoling her. She looked up to meet Vaa'len's eyes for a moment, then she stood up and took a single step back, glaring in turns at Vaa'len and the child. Vaa'len crouched down in front of the little girl, who'd stopped crying and was now just staring at the ground.
"Are you actually hurt, little one?" The kid glanced up with her mouth open, then closed it and stared at her feet again. After a few seconds, she gave a tiny shake of her head. "It's not nice to pretend you're hurt. You made all of us very, very worried. You really frightened your mother." The little girl looked back at the other sylvanni, standing there with her arms crossed.
"I'm sorry," she finally muttered, barely audible.
"Good," Vaa'len nodded. Then she stood up and looked over to me and the entire entourage of ogern guards who'd taken up positions around me. "Come. Enough time has already been wasted here." And with that we continued on. After we'd gone a few paces, she murmured, "Leader Jex," summoning the one in charge of the guard.
"Your grace," he replied just as quietly when he stepped beside her at the head of the procession.
"This was a mess. I'm going to assign one of the martials to accompany you whenever you move him from now on. You need someone who can speak with authority and avert any more misunderstandings." Jex seemed to stiffen at that.
"Your grace, my pack is competent. We don't need to bother a martial with such a simple task."
"I'm not concerned with your competence!" Vaa'len hissed. "I'm concerned with your visibility! Moving him around makes you worthy of notice. You know better than me what often happens when one of your people attracts too much attention. If that child hadn't admitted she was lying just now, or Void forbid she'd actually gotten hurt, there is nothing I could have done for Weir!"
"I'm grateful for your concern," Jex replied slowly, "But our 'visibility' is exactly why I'd prefer you don't assign a martial over us. Even if this task is a small one, just like you said, it's one that sylvan have started to take note of. If everyone sees we suddenly have a martial overseeing us, I feel it will only contribute to my people's... traditional reputation among yours." They walked in silence for several paces as Vaa'len thought.
"I see your point. The Collapse opened my eyes to your plight, but so much has happened since then it seems an age ago, not days. My perspective has changed so drastically, even after such a short time I sometimes forget how I used to view you. And how most of my people still view you. This might get dangerous for your pack, you know. You're just as likely to run into trouble with my people again as have any difficulty with Adrian." Jex threw a look at me over his shoulder.
"He has been pretty compliant. If I can ask, what did he say to you back there?"
"He spoke in defense of Weir. Said exactly what I'd suspected that little girl was doing." Jex didn't reply.
Within the next few minutes, we arrived at the clearing with the giant domed tent I'd visited yesterday. We didn't go in that big tent today. This time, I was ushered back to the tents of the Medical Ward and only made to don the smock and booties again before we entered. Two of the ogern followed Vaa'len and me through the entrance, which this time consisted of a single sealing flap instead of the two door arrangement I'd seen yesterday. This tent was packed with crates, shelves, and raw crystals of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I could see three sylvan shuffling through the supplies while another sylvanni sat on a crate, facing an extra-large yellow crystal that pulsed with a rhythmic amber glow.
"Right." Vaa'len said, picking her way to a single small table crammed in amongst the clutter. She beckoned for me to join her. "Today should be much smoother than yesterday was. I think our time together will also be fairly short. I won't have to keep you here on your own for long."
"That wouldn't be a problem," I protested, reaching the table and sitting on one of the wooden crates that seemed deliberately placed to serve as chairs. "I want to get back to Anea yesterday, and your boss really wants results. Please, keep me here as long as you need so we can get this over with." Vaa'len shook her head.
"This isn't just a matter of staring and poking at the enchantments you carry. I almost have a grasp on the structure I mentioned yesterday, and I intend to finish my study of that today. Afterward, I will need time to draft a thorough plan for my exploratory spells. There is nothing you can do to help with that, so there is no point in keeping you out here. Before we start, however," she sighed, her face twitching like she was trying to keep some strong emotion off her face. "This morning, the High Masters met with the Speaker, and I reported on my progress. Some of my colleagues had their own creative ideas regarding how best to divine Anea's method of Transfiguring you. To summarize a long debate, I managed to keep control of this project, but the Speaker decided there was benefit in pursuing multiple courses in parallel. Which is why I've brought you here today." While Vaa'len spoke, I noticed the ogern had wound their way through the chaos to hover right behind me. They looked coiled and ready to spring at the slightest provocation. "I am to take some skin and blood samples from you. I thought we should go ahead and get this part over with first."
"Skin samples?" I asked with forced calm. Vaa'len nodded.
"That will only involve scraping across the surface of an arm or leg. It will cause no lasting or even significant harm. We need that because, well, there is some question as to whether a blood sample from you will prove to have any use." I stared at her for a moment, my fire lung twitching in time with my pounding heart. It wasn't the thought of a sylvan using a knife on me that had me worried.
"You want samples of Anea's virus?" I asked. "Before you've got the slightest clue how Anea was controlling it?! Didn't you tell me that was basically inviting a nightmarish, monster-making plague to break out in this camp?!"
"I agree with you," she said with another disgruntled sigh. "I believe this is reckless beyond reason. The All disagrees with us, however. And several other High Masters correctly pointed out that the- It is not a shifter, you know. There are subtle but distinct differences. The more precise term is vector. Anyway, the vectors you carry are dormant. As long as they stay dormant, they should be safe to study in isolation. This will be required any case, so the Speaker and most of the High Masters feel starting this thread of research now is a suitable way to speed the project along." I took a deep breath to try and calm myself.
"Well," I observed, "despite you taking the time to try and explain things to me, I know I don't have a choice. And if this does speed things up, I guess that's what I want as well. I don't get why you're so desperate for," I waved at my chest, "this though. I have it, and I've got to say, it's not making me feel particularly powerful right now." Vaa'len stared at me for a second, then shook her head.
"And a dog wouldn't know the power of a pen it snatched off-" she cut herself off and blinked several times as I glared at her. Then her hand flew up to her mouth as her face flushed with embarrassment. "Oh my... forgive me. I did not intend that to sound so demeaning. It is not your fault, but you are woefully ignorant of magic. You cannot properly understand or use the gift you have. You will simply have to trust me when I say it offers great potential. Now, let us get to the matter at hand. I will offer you a choice in this. If I activate your suppressor, you will fall into a relaxed, sleepy state and not even feel what we are about to do. Or if you would prefer, we can leave you fully cogent, but it will hurt slightly, and I will need you to stay calm and still."
Obviously, I chose the latter option. Vaa'len had me wash my arms up to the elbows with soap and warm water. Then she summoned one of the sylvan who'd been milling about to actually perform the procedure. He didn't speak to me or even bother to meet my eyes once, but he did his work as quickly and painlessly as possible.
The skin sample was first, and it wasn't half as bad as I'd been imagining. He had me expose my left elbow, then the ogern held me in place while he applied his tool. There was a hot flash of pain as if I'd scraped myself on concrete, and then he was done. He handed the shaving-razor-like tool to Vaa'len so she could prepare her sample while he applied a numbing salve and an adhesive bandage to the wound which was only deep enough to draw a scant few dribbles of blood. Ok, that wasn't so bad. Now just a blood sample.
I was much less worried about this, as I'd had my blood drawn plenty of times throughout my military career. The tools he produced even looked similar: a needle, a flexible tube, and some vials to fill. The needle didn't seem to be made of metal, but it was just as sharp as any hypodermic needle. There was only an unpleasant yet familiar hot pinch when it was inserted into a vein in my right elbow. However, as the vials were filled, I saw the difficulty my blood presented, which Vaa'len had already hinted at.
As soon as it met air, the red liquid began to steam and maybe even smoke, releasing an odd, hot metal scent to fill the air. The sylvan orderly filled the vials until they overflowed a bit and corked them so there was little to no air left inside. But he still lost two of the six vials when the blood inside heated up fast enough to shatter the glass. The spilled drops steamed vigorously as they landed on the table and cooked before our eyes into something with the consistency of jelly.
After a few more seconds of staring at the dark red beads, my eyes drifted to my own hand as I silently marveled at what was flowing through my veins. Out of the corner of an eye, I noticed the orderly shaking one of the vials close to his ear, probably checking that it was still liquid. Satisfied, he removed the needle from my arm while pressing something gauzy to the spot. There was a flash of heat when the needle was withdrawn, and when he removed the gauze, I saw a tiny blister where the needle had been but no blood.
The sylvan sorted the four vials into a small lidded box with a rack to hold them in place. Soon, Vaa'len returned and added two more. At a glance, these appeared to contain skin from my scrape suspended in some kind of clear fluid or gel. Once all six vials were placed, the nameless sylvan closed and latched the box, then took it with him as picked his way to the entrance and left the tent.
"I think we should find some other place for the rest of our business," Vaa'len said, motioning me to stand. "I find this smell rather distracting." The odd scent of the burning blood, something between meaty and metallic, did seem to be lingering. I stood and followed Vaa'len and her guards sylvan out of the tent. The other sylvan working there also cleared out, holding the entrance flap open to air out the interior.
I spotted the orderly pacing towards the central dome, but I soon lost sight of him and his box of samples as my ogern escort nudged me along in Vaa'len's wake. That made me very uncomfortable. I never thought letting the Sylvan study me was a good idea, but now? I'd just seen on the walk here there were a lot more malicious assholes among these people than just Os'tarell. How much harm could they do if they learned these secrets they were so eager for? And even if they didn't, what if in their impatience, some mistake or misguided experiment unleashed one of the shaping diseases I'd learned about last night? As I pondered how many people stood to suffer for the deal I'd accepted to save myself and Steel, the whole thing became a lot more real.
Vaa'len led us halfway around the outer ring of tents until we reached the one she'd been looking for and went inside. This one didn't have a fancy self-sealing flap like the medical tents, and the floor was just ground covered in well-trampled leaves and grass. So a basic tent. There were tables with books, scrolls, and what looked like dip pens arranged all along the walls, as well as an assortment of foreign tools and instruments the functions of which I couldn't begin to guess. Vaa'len had two of the ogern clear off one of those tables and move it and two chairs into the center. She explained that she'd meant to finish her own study in the medical storage tent before the stink of my blood roasting itself started turning her stomach.
Once the table and chairs were in place, she made me reiterate my promise not to try anything stupid like attacking her or bolting. Then she ordered Jex to remove my collar and the cloth facemask. The ogern looked ready to explode with the effort of keeping his protests to himself as he complied. He had one of his subordinates take the restraints outside while he and three others loomed over me in my seat, sending a clear message that I would pay dearly for any funny business. Then Vaa'len took her seat across from me. Her eyes picked up a faint violet glow of magic as she resumed her work from last night.
This time, she didn't seem inclined to chat. After hearing her rasp each word out like her throat was lined with sand, I guessed she was probably sore from talking aloud way more than she was used to. Out of sympathy, I didn't try to make her speak. Instead I reflected on what I'd witnessed during the walk here and all it could mean.
Obviously, the incident with those sylvan brats harassing a group of full grown ogern spoke volumes about their place in Sylvan society, but I already knew they were something like slaves. I was more interested in what I'd overheard Vaa'len and Jex discussing. Jex recognized the potential political impact his small role in such a high profile project could have on his people, and this demonstrated the depth of his thinking. Whatever the Sylvan thought of his kind, between him and Skor, I had to conclude these ogern were anything but dull or simple. So why did they put up with the abuse they were clearly subject to? None of them were wearing collars as far as I'd seen. And what had Vaa'len meant about 'the Collapse' 'opening her eyes?' I sensed another long sad story here, one more to add to the growing list of other people's problems I found myself carrying around on my conscience.
With a determined sigh, I reminded myself that all the sylvan and ogern, Vaa'len, Jex, and Weir included, were enemies to me, my friends, Anea, her soon-to-hatch young, and humanity at large. I shouldn't be pitying them for their societal issues! I should be working out how to exploit weaknesses like that for my side's advantage. And on that note...
I stared at Vaa'len, immersed in whatever she was seeing inside me. My fire lung slowly clenched into a familiar, quite reassuring knot as my doubts about cooperating with her began to boil over. She was a high ranking sylvanni, and she considered herself the best person to suss out how Anea's spell actually worked. By her own admission, this was something the Sylvan desperately wanted: something that they believed would give them a significant edge in the war they anticipated. And there was only one possible target for this war they were about to wage. Humanity. More specifically, this hoard of sylvan and ogern would be attacking my people, America, while they were reeling from some kind of disastrous confrontation with China. I could do something significant to help them against this new enemy. I could hamper their efforts, and maybe even prevent them from ever gaining whatever power they thought studying me would grant them. I could kill Vaa'len.
I could feel it. I had enough venom for at least one gout of fire. With her sitting right in front of me and no barrier between us, one was all it would take. The four ogern silently menacing me wouldn't be able to stop me in time, and I didn't think anything would be able to save her afterward. My stomach twisted in sickening revulsion at what I was considering doing to the sylvanni. I shoved the queasiness aside and forced myself to consider the prospect.
Her death wouldn't stop other sylvan from continuing her investigation, and with what Vaa'len had decried as more reckless approaches. That might make accidents more likely, but it might also mean they ultimately failed in their efforts. But would humanity be any better off dealing with the Sylvan as they were now along with an outbreak of mutant-spawning shaping plagues than we would against the Sylvan armed with the new knowledge they sought to gain? And what about the immediate fallout to the other people around me?
The Sylvan had already threatened Steel, and they might decide to kill him to punish me. Then again, that would cost them their best leverage over me. They would certainly punish both of us in some way, and there were plenty of other innocent people they could use to drive any lessons home. Did I have any right to drag so many others down with me, just to delay some kind of abstract research? On the other hand, if this research would give the Sylvan some significant or even overwhelming advantage over humanity, did I have any right not to? What did Os'tarell and Vaa'len say? These synthesis nodes are key to the dragons' reign over this world since long before any of us tool-users even evolved...
"Huh," Vaa'len grunted, breaking into my black thoughts.
"What?" I asked, my heart thudding up in my throat.
"Nothing," she muttered. Then after a moment, she added hesitantly, "Well actually... I noticed straight away your mana-sinks seem to be replenishing your supply of volatiles quite nicely. And I fancied, well, a demonstration. I know about your fire-breath of course, and I've experienced the memories of those who watched you and the ogern's fight. But they were all tinged with distracting terror. Even if they weren't, recalling another's memory is never the same as seeing something with your own eyes. I must say, the thought of a human or any sylvid breathing fire like a dragon seems like a truly spectacular sight to behold. As long as it isn't directed at one's self, of course," She concluded with a smile, and any resolve I'd been building up melted away.
God, she's so naïve. She was making the same mistake Anea did, confusing rapport between captor and captive for something like friendship. She didn't even seem to comprehend the mortal danger she'd placed herself in by taking that collar and mask off of me. She wasn't stupid, so unless she was playing me, she must simply have a blind spot for how cruel and calculating people with power could be. She was just doing her job and satisfying her own curiosity. She didn't seem to give any thought to what others might do with the knowledge she discovered, nor how they might misuse the power they gleaned from it.
"I don't think," I replied slowly, "that would be a good idea."
"Oh, it's not," she laughed, then coughed a few times. "I'm not one of those children you encountered earlier, and I know it wouldn't even be permitted. No human is allowed to walk among the camp without a suppressor, and we also wouldn't allow the unnecessary risk of your fire spreading and burning down part of the camp. It was only wishful thinking."
"Vaa'len," I said, her mention of children reminding me of something one of the people I'd talked to earlier had asked. "Some of the people you're... keeping separate from the rest are parents," I began, stumbling as I tried to avoid saying something insulting. "But there's not any kids in there with us. I know there's at least one husband and wife who haven't seen or heard anything about their daughter since they arrived. Do you know anything about that?" She chewed her lip for a few moments, and her ears drooped.
"No actually, I don't. I wasn't aware any families had been separated. But the stockade was only for the resisters..." She stared through me for a second. "There must have been some oversight. This is absolutely a case where the minimal contact rule should have an exception. I will look into this." She refocused on her study then, and I felt a few prickles along my spine as her eyes pulsed a little brighter. She's innocent in this, I realized. Or at least a noncombatant. I'd never be able to raise a hand against her in cold blood, much less damn her to such a horrific, agonizing death. Whatever wider considerations might factor in here, I couldn't change that about myself, and I had no wish to. And besides, hurting her wouldn't get me back to Anea and her eggs any sooner. That's still my biggest concern.
Isn't it..?
I spent the rest of my time with Vaa'len trying to answer the increasingly sticky question of just what my priorities were. After a couple hours of quiet observation and meditation, Vaa'len suddenly announced she was satisfied. She had a clear enough picture of Anea's spells to continue her work on her own. As Jex and his ogern eagerly reapplied my collar and that muzzle-mask, she informed me it would probably be a full day or two before she had a solid plan for the next phase of her investigation. Until then, I'd be staying with the rest of the humans in the stockade. I just nodded, only half paying attention as my internal debate raged on.
It's just not fair, I despaired as the usual five ogern guard led me on a roundabout route back to the human part of the camp. I made a decision, and I was ready to live with it. Or I thought I was. God, why did I just have to make Anea fly us to Pineda?! If we'd just stayed out in her mountains, none of this would have happened. Now, I felt like there was more between us than just the damned Sylvan.
My sense of duty, my obligation to protect my people and my family, was beginning to pull my heart away from her and demand I do something about this new enemy. Whatever politics had been happening between the U.S. and China back during my previous life, I now believed that even if I wasn't solely to blame for the end result, my actions had made things worse. Now these Sylvan were threatening my people, and with the U.S. already weakened, they might prove even more dangerous than rival humans half a world away. And I was caught right in the middle of it! I felt down to my bones that I was in a position of consequence again. I wanted, I needed, to get it right this time. How can I do that if I also need to go back to Anea and stay with her for years?
I was so deep in thought, it wasn't until a large hand planted itself on my chest and stopped me in my tracks that I noticed the ogern had led me clear out of the camp! "Wha-" that hand slapped itself over my mouth, and I looked up to find the ogern leader Jex looking me right in the eye and pressing a finger to his lips. As I stared back dumbfounded, another of the ogern did whatever they did to make my collar release itself again, and they pulled my mask away with it. Then I heard heavy footsteps retreating.
When they passed out of earshot, Jex whispered, "I do not know your tongue, though I know you understand mine. Do not bother asking me questions. Stay quiet and follow. There is someone who wishes to speak to you without being overheard." Still dumbstruck, I nodded and followed when Jex lowered his hand and sped off into the thick underbrush. As I struggled to keep up, the only thoughts I could manage were numerous variations of: What the hell is going on now?! It was just too far out of left-field. Soon enough, Jex's crashing led me to a clear space within the thicket. Whoever I'd been expecting, it wasn't who was standing in front of me.
"You?!" I demanded, coming up short and willfully squeezing my fire-lung in anticipation of a fight.
"Yes," the ogern said, holding up his hand in a placating gesture. "And I swear on my life, this is not what you think." I didn't believe him for a second! I took a moment to look him over and make sure this ogern was who I thought he was. The gravelly voice, the squat height, the powerful build, the piggy eyes, heavy brow and crooked nose, and the altogether more obvious red-tinged bandages covering the stumps where his left arm and right ear had been. This was Skor, the same ogern who captured me in the first place and whose arm I'd mangled so badly it had to be cut off!
"If you wanted revenge, you should have left that mask on me," I hissed, my chest throbbing with heat. Skor smiled wide, like a cat would to a wounded bird.
"Oh, I will have revenge, but not against you. I plan to strike a blow against my true enemy," I blinked in surprise but didn't relax one bit. "Tell me Adrian, would you like to get back to your dragon tonight?"