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49: The Stripling
Fiske listened carefully at the door, waiting for the right moment to make his move. Celestella had said that this was the best time of day to pull off what he had been sent to do. No one else knew the habits of Desslok's council better than Miezela.
The bounty hunter waited and waited until the only sound he heard was the shallow breathing of his sleeping target.
The time to begin his plan had come.
He sneaked back out of the area, darting behind whatever cover he could find when he encountered the night patrols.
Without a sound he made his way down to the sub-basement of the palace – his old haunts, back when Yeshin was in charge. He briefly wondered again about what had truly happened to the man, then put it out of his mind once more as he descended into the poorly-lit substructure.
Finding the door he was looking for, he disappeared inside.
He slipped through the liquid darkness of the tunnels he had once frequented – tunnels that were now fragmented due to the interference of the tsarebetim. Even though he knew his way to his destination, it took him longer than he had first estimated. He had to be careful not to touch the sickly scars that laced portions of the ground beneath the palace, and in some places, the ichor had breeched the palace building materials, eating away at the structure itself.
He wove through the dark as quickly as he dared, heading upwards, past floor after floor of rooms – some empty, some occupied.
Finally, he returned to the floor he'd left almost an hour before. He knew his time was limited, so once he found the entrance to the room he sought, he silently entered.
Once he stepped foot inside the room he paused, listening for any indication that he had triggered some unseen alarm. When he was satisfied that his entrance had gone unnoticed, he focused again on his task.
The room was brighter than the tunnel he'd just exited, and so his eyes adjusted to the added light easily.
He looked around the peaceful room, scanning from one side of it to the other. Then he saw his target, sleeping quietly near the opposite wall.
Fiske seemed to float through the dark room, making it to his target's bedside within a few seconds.
His shadow fell across the victim's face, but the target did not stir.
The bounty hunter slid something out of his pocket, then he quickly grabbed his victim, securing the item he'd just retrieved over the target's mouth and nose.
The target gave a brief struggle, emitting muffled grunts and sounds of distress, then went limp.
Fiske paused again, to make sure that the struggle had not been overheard, then, hearing nothing, he smirked and hauled his quarry back out the way he'd come. He closed the hidden entrance silently. Suddenly the darkness of the tunnel made it hard for him to see the step in front of him and he felt his foot begin to slip on something. He instantly pulled back, knowing what the substance was and dreading to fall prey to its deadly power.
Fearing the consequences of actually slipping in the substance, Fiske stopped completely and let his eyes readjust to the darkness of the tunnel.
After several long seconds of silent waiting, he continued on quietly back down to his former basement home. The only sounds were Fiske's breathing, mingled with the shallow breaths of his quarry, now slung over his shoulder, swaying back and forth as the bounty hunter stepped cautiously from one stair step to the next.
Suddenly, out of nowhere there was an unearthly shriek and something flew towards Fiske's head.
Startled, but not completely out of his wits just yet, he ducked instinctively and winced as he heard some part of his target's body smack against the hard wall.
Then, just as soon as it had appeared, the strange assailant was gone, but it left in its wake an odd stench.
Fiske let out a sigh of relief, stood and let his heart rate return to where it had been before whatever it was had swooped in on him.
More wary now, he continued on, checking behind and in front of him for any sign of pursuit, or indication of other occupants of the tunnel. Soon he came to the end of the stairs and exited into his clandestine hideaway, which had somehow escaped the prying eyes of Desslok and his rebels – as well as Deun and the rest of the zealot band all these years.
Fiske stepped over to a plain black cot and laid his victim on it. He moved to tie up the target's hands and feet. He finished securing the feet together without trouble, but when he went to tie up his target's hands he stopped and cursed. He had been as careful as possible coming back through the tunnel, but not careful enough.
Instantly he knew the moment he had made his mistake.
There, on the hand of Elisa and Dommel Lysis' only son, festered the deadly touch of the tsarebetim.
Then, to his utter horror, he began to feel a telltale burning running up his own hand and he let fled the room in blind terror.
Masterson paced back and forth across the main room of his suite, thinking.
The night was well spent already, but he could not bring himself to sleep. Something – a great darkness was hovering over him and he felt as though the weight of it was growing with every passing hour.
The feeling didn't make any sense to him at first. Everything was going as well as could be expected under the circumstances; Iscandar was cleansed of the plague; Desslok was on the throne of Gamilon; Deun had been banished; the zealot presence in the capitol was finally beginning to dwindle.
Then he recounted the other events that had befallen them: Eliora had been slain and Constance kidnapped, Dara and Garen had gone to retrieve her... Their number was slowly waning.
Something about it all made Masterson suspicious.
And then there was that woman... this Miezela Celestella. Both times he had seen the woman she'd left him with a sense of dread. And there was that strange odor... At first he had thought it was something in the throne room, but when he had met Celestella the second time, he realized that it was her who had been giving off the stench. It was not as strong as the other times he had encountered it, but it left him without a doubt that Miezela Celestella had at least some dealings with the shêdim.
He had not warned the Leader of her association yet, but as soon as he had a bit more solid proof, he would. If only he could find something... something that would convince the Leader that she was much more dangerous than she appeared to be.
"Masterson! Masterson!" the sudden pounding on the door of his quarters jolted him out of his thoughts.
Hearing the desperation in the visitor's voice, he instantly ran to the door and commanded the computer to release the lock.
The door whooshed open to reveal the panicked face of Elisa Lysis. "Deror's gone! I checked his room and he just wasn't there! He was sleeping just a few hours ago, but – but – he's –" the woman grew hysterical.
Masterson gripped her shoulders firmly, trying to get her to think instead of react, "Where's Dommel?"
"He – he took David and Wolf to look for Deror..." she sobbed, "But they haven't found anything!"
"Elisa." Masterson shook her gently, "Listen to me." he waited until the mother's eyes met his before he continued, "We'll find him."
"Adonai, please let us find him." Masterson prayed as he was trying to reassure Elisa.
Masterson raised his father on his and his parents' private communications channel and told them of the crisis at hand.
"We will send everyone we can to aide in the search." Admiral Talan said to his son, "This is most disturbing; first Constance Mariposa is taken from among us, and now Deror Lysis."
"Yes..." Masterson replied, then had a thought, "Do any of the time-delvers remain?"
"No, my son; I am afraid they all were either killed during our absence, or chose to follow Deun and the zealots and have since departed." Raymond said sadly, "and I do not know of another who knows their art."
Suddenly Masterson's face lit up, "You may not, but I do."
"He went through this wall." Desslok stated emphatically after repeatedly tracing the kidnapper's temporal-print through the room. "There is no doubt that this was his route." he repeated after receiving multiple stares of skepticism.
When only Masterson stepped forward to examine the wall, the Leader took it upon himself to also scour the dark green metal for signs of the hidden entryway he knew was there.
Both Desslok and Masterson ran searching hands over the wall. The temporal-print showed them nothing, and it appeared that the intruder had left the entrance open while he kidnapped the boy, so there was no way of knowing where the trigger on this side of the opening would be hidden.
Masterson used both hands in his search, beginning several feet away from the opening and working his way inward towards it.
The Leader used only one hand – his right – to search for the trigger, as his gloved left hand would be of no use to him here, where he could not bare it openly to the present company without fear of unknown repercussions.
Suddenly he felt what he was looking for, "Here." Desslok said expressionless, as the door opened to them.
David started to step down into the darkness when Desslok held out a staying hand, "To go willingly into darkness with no light to guide you is most foolish." He withdrew Mintra'el and commanded, "Light."
The A.I. shone a beam of brightness down into the blackness of the path they had found.
Desslok himself, being the light-bearer, would have no one else precede him, and so he stepped through the door first, followed closely by Masterson, then by David, Elisa, Dommel, and Wolf taking up the rear.
Masterson informed the other search parties that they had found the intruder's escape route and were following it.
Zimring – who was miraculously still awake at this hour – and Juji, who had gotten up for a very early morning midnight snack, were left to wait in the Lysis' quarters in case the boy somehow returned to his home.
The group slowly descended, carefully stepping around and over the all-too-frequent, caustic patches of tsarebetim that littered their trail downward.
Juji squawked after them, but did not follow, his bird nose telling him that nasty things waited in the darkness below and that he was much safer right where he was.
The group followed the pathway until it ended at a wall very similar to the one in Deror's room. This time Masterson stepped up to the wall and managed to find the trigger in a location almost identical to the spot the Leader had located on the previous door.
The door melted away, opening up into a small chamber. When they saw who was in the room, they all wished the door had never been opened.
There was a half a moment of utter, deathly silence, and then a blood-freezing, anguished scream pierced the air and Elisa flew through the door and fell to her knees in the middle of the chamber, sobbing and crying out her son's name frantically over and over.
She reached out a hand, but Masterson quickly stopped her, "No! No, do not touch him." he said, "He has been poisoned by the tsarebetim..." his voice wavered as he looked at the boy, lying on a cot a few feet away. He no longer looked his nine years; instead, he had adopted the visage of an old man.
"Amah..." the boy reached out towards Elisa from his cot, "What happened to me? I can... barely move... I feel so... tired... and stiff..." he said, his voice coming out in an aged whisper.
Dommel fell to his knees beside his wife and fought the urge to scoop up his son and hug him fiercely, but if he did that, it would mean certain death for him as well. He felt tears begin to stream down his face as he realized that he was about to lose his only child to something that he could not fight. It was the worst nightmare he could ever imagine.
Rage began to boil up within him. Who could have done such a horrific deed? And to a child! At least if the kidnapper had taken him, he could have fought back, or... or... he couldn't think anymore, the sight of his son was too much for him. He cried out in frustrated despair as he looked on, helpless to do anything more.
"Only the Rophi Shamayim could save him now." Desslok stated, his voice hard, "But there is no time to retrieve and prepare it, and Garen is no longer among us."
"If only we'd found him sooner..." Wolf whispered, not daring to speak any louder lest he too fall into hopeless mourning. "If only we'd known..." he choked out the last word, covering his eyes with his hand as his own tears began to fall.
Then, for a long moment, no one spoke; the only sound was the weeping of Deror's family.
Breaking the silence, the boy reached out towards Dommel and Elisa one more time and, with a strange peace in his eyes he said, "Good-bye, Amah... Aba... Good... bye..." then he closed his young eyes and fell into the sleep of death."
"NO! No! No!" Elisa fell onto her face and pounded the ground with her fists, trying to deny the horrific sight she had just witnessed. Surely there was a misunderstanding; surely her son was not the one lying on that cot, surely he was safely home and in bed now. But then she looked up and saw the form of her deceased child, her only son, and began to wail in utter despair.
Dommel, not knowing what else to do, wrapped his arms around his wife and held her as they both mourned the loss of their child.
"And so another dies, and You do not stop it..." Desslok thought bitterly watching the anguished scene that was playing out before him, "If You have some reason for letting such an injustice as this occur, please do tell me." the Leader's anger at what Adonai had not chosen to prevent welled up inside him and would have boiled over if it had not been for the strange moaning sounds that he suddenly heard coming from the room beyond this one.
Curious, he took Mintra'el and stepped around the weeping couple, approaching the door to the next room. That was when he noticed the trail of ichor on the floor. It led from the boy's cot all the way to this door. Desslok tried the door, but it was locked.
Annoyed at the inconvenience, he overrode the lock and opened the door.
Suddenly Masterson was behind him.
"I heard something I thought warranted attention." the Leader said absently.
"I heard it too." Masterson replied, his voice low enough so that only Desslok heard him.
The Leader nodded, "Come." he motioned for Talan to follow him into the room.
The two men stepped carefully through the door.
This room was lit a bit better than the previous one and almost as soon as they entered, they saw the sources of the moans they had both heard. In the middle of the floor lay a body – still alive, but barely.
Slowly, Desslok and Masterson approached the crumpled form; they circled around so that they were on opposite sides of the person – they now saw him to be a man, though his face had been aged well beyond his years.
The man's eyes darted back and forth from the Leader, to Talan, and back again. His breath came out in wheezes; then his ears seemed to catch the sound of wailing from the other room and a weak, wheezing chuckle escaped his lips.
"At least... at least you have suffered much for my trouble." the man hissed at his observers.
"Who are you?" Desslok demanded. "Who sent you here tonight to commit this atrocity?"
The man let out a wheezing laugh again and turned his gaze to Masterson, "You've changed these past many years," he sneered, "Keeping company with wolves will only get you eaten."
Masterson's eyes widened just the slightest as he suddenly recognized the man who had chased him that day years ago thinking that he was Frakken. The last Masterson had seen this man, he was trapped on the side of a cliff with no visible means of escape.
"I may have changed, but it appears that you have not." Masterson answered. "You still do your master's evil bidding."
The man laughed, but it came out in a loud wheeze, "I do the bidding of one much greater than you will ever be, foolish, blind follower of the cursed Adonai."
Masterson's gaze bored into the dying man, "I may never be great, Servant of darkness, but your master will one day fall on his face before my Adonai and will proclaim Him LORD of all things."
The man hissed in pain, "You think too much of yourself, fool. You will see..." the man's voice began to fade, "you will... see..." and with that, he breathed his last.
"Yes... yes, I will see." Masterson replied to the corpse.
Desslok looked at Masterson questioningly, "You have met this man before then."
"Indeed." Masterson nodded, "Nine years ago. Frakken and I lured him off a cliff. I thought him dead."
"Who is his master?" the Leader asked.
"That I cannot say." Masterson replied, "He is one of the zealots, that I know, but who he reported to, that I have no way of telling."
"He carries the stench of the shêdim," Desslok said in disgust, "And quite heavily."
Masterson nodded. "His body will need to be burned to eradicate the tsarebetim's poison, and not risk spreading the infection to others," he paused for a moment before adding sadly, "Deror's body... must meet the same fate..."
Masterson saw Desslok's jaw clench, "Yes. I know." he looked back at the dead man, "I will inform his family..."
Masterson nodded again as Desslok left Talan alone with the corpse and returned to the rest of the group in the other room. When he heard the wail of fresh grief, he knew the news had been delivered to Dommel and Elisa.