Serial Saturday: "Clan of Outcasts" Season 3, Part 16 "Searching"

Part 16

"Searching" 

Markus snarled in frustration as he sent his fist crashing through the holographic projection. The metal prosthetic bounced harmlessly off the reinforced surface of the wall. He slumped into a nearby chair and rubbed his eyes. The full-scale projection of The Sea covered every surface of the room, and yet it seemed too limited, or perhaps the pirates possessed some sort of technology that made them invisible to the scanners Denahlia’s tech used.

“At least,” Markus muttered bitterly to himself, “if I was on that crew, I’d definitely make sure we had some kind of signal jammer or disrupter!”
He gazed around that wide expanse of water, eyeing the array of islands against the far wall, and the wide stretch of mainland joust crossing her desk. Where could they be taking her, and why?
A knock on the door, and the exterior microphone clicked on.
“Hello?” said Hayden, the Harbormaster. “Agent Markus? The repairs along the docks are underway. I came by to see if you needed any—“
Markus cut off the sound of his voice with a wave of his hand. “Go away! I can handle this on my own!” He flipped open the video feed from the camera posted over the door, watching until Hayden gave up waiting and walked away.
Markus clapped his hands together, and the holograms disappeared.

“If I was Denahlia, and I needed to track a mark,” he mused, pacing back and forth, “What would I do?”

His cousin made her tech implants look so effortless—his father had explained that it was because she had no idea she was implanted, just that she had a "gift" she could control that gave her an advantage in any situation. While he always knew that there was a part of his body that had been artificially attached, Denahlia had no reason to think that her changing eyesight was any less natural than any other part of her body. As far as she knew, using her “Gift” wasn’t relying on tech, it was trusting her own instincts and intuition. And if the bounty hunting tech ever failed, Denahlia the Hunter wouldn’t hesitate to go old-school.

Markus directed his weary gaze at the weathered old filing cabinet in the corner. He checked the drawers till he found one that was full of nautical charts and maps.
“Old school it is!” he said, laying out the maps on the desktop screen. He set the scanners to charting out the likeliest path for a ship of the Ransom’s design.

A grating alarm shook his prosthetic arm like a jolt of electricity. The words PROXIMITY ALERT flashed in red across the multiple display screens. Markus glanced out the window and heard the harsh cry of a dragon before he saw the familiar red shape come into view and hover above the property.
He dashed outside. "Hadrian!" He called.

She squawked in response, and he saw the little blue shape of her Wyrmling flapping furiously beside her. Markus noted the glint of a holographic barrier that prevented his dragon friend from landing in the courtyard. He waved his hand until the command menu popped up. "Allow!" he said, and the alarm ceased.

Hadrian curled her wings close and landed on the ground in front of him. She curled her head down and nudged him in the shoulder, blinking intelligently at him.
Markus rubbed her neck. "Boy, am I glad to see you," he murmured.
Hadrian kept her snout resting on his shoulder, as if offering some kind of consolation. The gesture reminded Markus of the way Denahlia would rest her hand on his shoulder when he was anxious or agitated over something, and it prompted a lump to form in his throat.
Hadrian tilted her head toward the door of the office and warbled an inquiry.
Markus heaved a huge sigh and rubbed his face. "Yeah, she's gone, girl," he answered. "Some pirates took her. I'm trying to find where they could have gone."

The Wyrmling let out an ear-piercing shriek and tumbled in Markus' direction, snapping and snarling. Hadrian lifted a claw and picked up the little rascal, giving it a gentle shake and holding it just inches off the ground until it ceased wriggling. She set it down and nudged it toward Markus, looking at him with an easy nod. Markus accepted the welcome and approached the Wyrmling slowly. Another nudge from its mother, and the Wyrmling arrived within arm's reach. It prodded his hand with the tip of its nose curiously, and Markus took care not to move a muscle as the creature conducted its own investigation, and reached its own conclusions about him. Finally, the Wyrmling ducked under his palm, and its tail whipped back and forth as it rolled its head back and forth to simulate petting. Markus responded with gentle strokes over the scaly, spiny back, and Hadrian indicated her approval with a warm rumble emanating from deep in her chest.

Markus blinked and straightened, and the moment ended. "Right.... I need to find Denahlia, Hadrian. She's the only family I've got, and I don't want to lose her." He tilted his head and stroked his chin. "I don't suppose you could track her down?"

Hadrian lifted her head, huffed out her nose, and flapped her wings; she did, indeed, possess many advantages that would allow her to find someone, if he wished it! Markus ducked back into the office and pulled out a glove that Denahlia had worn several times. He showed Hadrian a holographic photo of what she looked like, and gave her the glove to get Denahlia's scent. He'd seen the dragon hunting prey from miles in the air--as long as she had that scent, she would be able to fly over the whole ocean to find her, much faster than trying to launch any kind of drone or track a ship!

Finally, Hadrian stood on her hind legs, her wings kicking up quite a breeze, indicating that she was ready to seek out that scent.

Markus beckoned to her, and she resumed her standing position on all fours. "There's a couple things we need to do before you leave," he said. "First, I've got something for you." He ducked into the office and returned with a tracker on a wide collar, intended for a very large dog. The collar was just barely big enough to encircle Hadrian's foreleg. Markus buckled it, telling her, "This way, I can keep track of where you are. Once you find her, don't go to her--I don't want you to get caught or injured if the pirates see you. Just keep following her from the sky, stay out of sight, and I'll notice when you stop searching."

Hadrian nodded, nudged Markus in the shoulder again, and launched into the air.

The Wyrmling gave a weak little bleat and flapped furiously, trying to join his mother in the air, but Hadrian whirled back with flared nostrils, baring her teeth at her own offspring.
Markus reached out to catch the little fellow before he got too close. Hadrian gave an angry roar, and turned a few circles in the air. Markus understood her body language: she didn't want her little one to come along, as the journey was fraught with peril and far too many unknowns. He chuckled.
"Here we are, little one, I've got another task for you. You will be able to reunite with your mother soon, but not just yet."

Hadrian nodded her thanks and growled the command to her offspring, who promptly stopped tugging against Markus' grip, and sank to the ground with his wings hanging limp.
Markus watched Hadrian rise into the sky, but before she was quite out of sight, he heard the intercom inside the office buzzing. He brought the Wyrmling inside with him, letting it sit in the doorway as he answered the call, originating from the White Castle Garrison.

"Come in, Denahlia!" Commander Edri's voice barked over the speaker. "You'd better not be avoiding me! It's an emergency!"

Markus opened the channel and responded, "Well, you must be the Commander Edri my cousin has told me so much about."

The Commander didn't hesitate to respond. "Cousin? Who is this? What are you doing on this channel?"
"The name's Markus. How can I help you?"
"You can help by putting Denahlia on the intercom."

Markus gulped. "Um, I'm sorry, she's a little busy at the moment--"
"Busy? The Prince has just been abducted, we've got an escaped prisoner, the Realm is descending into chaos--how can she be too busy for that?"
"Look, I'm sorry I don't have all the details--"
"You don't have clearance, is what I'm hearing."

"I do!" Markus huffed. "Denahlia gave me Admin privileges!"

For once, Edri hesitated. Then, she asked in a low voice, "Why would she go and do a thing like that?"

Markus rolled his eyes, but kept his voice even. "Because I'm her cousin, maybe? Look, just tell me what the emergency is; maybe I can help."

"No need," Edri's voice regained some of its stiffness. "I have another method of contacting her. I can just tell her directly--"

"Um--" Markus could almost feel the implant buzzing in his brain. If she tried this other method, she could figure out that Denahlia was no longer in the Realm, and then who would everyone blame for her disappearance? Him! "You don't need to do that! I mean, she's just... Oh wait!" He gasped. "I think I can see her coming up to the office!"

Edri didn't hesitate, Markus could tell. She waited, while his heart pounded and the Wyrmling tilted its head and blinked at him curiously from its spot curled up against the wall. "Now..." she measured her words slowly, "How do you expect me to believe that?"
At least her slow speech gave Markus the time that he needed to activate the voice modulator on his neck. A few quick swipes, and he matched it with an audio recording from Denahlia's memos. With the modulator active, he sounded like his cousin. "What are you doing in my chair?" He switched it off, to resume his normal voice. "Oh! Denahlia, I was just..." He lifted his finger off the intercom button when he saw that Edri was trying to respond.
"Denahlia!" she said. "I've been trying to call you. We have a situation at the prison!"
Markus again switched the modulator. "Sorry, I've been busy trying to restore order to the Harbor. What is the situation?" I really hope she's not going to expect Denahlia herself to show up! Markus thought. Sounding like her over an intercom was one thing, but having to produce her likeness was beyond even what his tech could do!

Edri hesitated again. "Is your cousin still there?"

Markus made shushing and shooing noises, then walked across the room, shouted "Fine!" in his natural voice, and then slammed the door. The Wyrmling, mercifully, sat silent through the whole charade. He sat down and responded, "We're good--" Oh no! His voice! He slapped a hand against his neck and flipped the switch, hiding the sound with a bout of coughing. "I mean, ah, he's gone now," he answered. "What is it you wanted to tell me?"

"Raedyn has escaped!" Edri announced. "He overpowered the guards and slipped out while everyone was busy with those who survived the pirate attack on the Harbor. I only realized it when your perimeter sensors tripped."

Markus noted the small red triangle flashing in the corner. "Hm," he muttered under his breath, "so that's what that means..."

"What?" Edri's voice caught an edge.

Markus coughed, recalling whose voice came through the intercom just now. "I mean, do you have any indication which way he was heading?"

"South, by the looks of it, to the Forest. I can get word to Velora, but she's probably going to need help, if he's as slippery as all that!"

"Copy that, Commander," Markus responded. "Mar--ah, Denahlia out!" He switched off the intercom and flicked off his modulator. He flicked through Denahlia's files till he found the one with the name Raedyn. Something about the man's face struck him as familiar. Markus sat back and pondered what it was. He knew he didn't need to worry about Velora--based on what he'd seen of her the night before, she was perfectly capable of taking down one attempted assassin.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>

There were times when Gavin envied the surefooted gait of his wolf, the way Sable cut a silvery blur through the bushes and over complex root systems. He had been over this same quadrant so many times, and yet it always seemed like a new tree or shrub had sprung up in some random location, changing the landscape yet again.

He kept Sable within his sights at all times as he walked. Her senses were so much stronger than his, she could detect what they sought long before Gavin could. He could only hope that Velora herself arrived in his quadrant so he wouldn’t have to handle the situation alone.

He had groaned when the howl went up over the forest, passed on from Velora herself: a prisoner had escaped from the castle dungeon, and was headed southward for the Forest. Velora included, through a series of yips and whines only the wolves and those bonded to them could understand, a loose description of the man—but Gavin was only half paying attention at that point. All he needed to know was that someone was headed into his jurisdiction who shouldn’t be there. He didn’t need to know whether this person was tall or short, bearded or baby-faced.

At every stir of the breeze, Gavin’s eyes shot heavenward, half-expecting to see Velora riding in on one of Tristan’s gales. Obviously she couldn’t be certain where or when this man would be in view, especially if he had to run right past the Boundary to Elfdom to get there from the White Castle road.
Gavin shuddered as the memory of shattering that cobweb-fine barrier in pursuit of a Wyrmling returned. Sable ceased her sniffing to check on him, so Gavin pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and refocused on staying alert.

A faint chatter of rebounding echoes caught his attention, and Gavin stopped and looked upward once more as a flock of very noisy birds—crows, he noticed; That makes them a murder, he thought—sped by overhead.
The trees rustled, and he heard a man’s shouts mingled with the incessant croaking.
Sable’s hackles stood up straight, and her head and tail both tensed parallel to the ground. Gavin squinted at the moving shadows and shifting shapes he could see behind the trees.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a large black bird burst through the air right in front of his face. He barely made it off to the side before a man burst into the clearing with his arms wrapped around his head. Blood dripped down his face, and Gavin could clearly see the chafe marks on his wrists, from metal shackles. The prisoner!
He seemed more terrified of what came after him than the fact that he’d just been caught escaping arrest. He reached out and gripped Gavin’s tunic in wide-eyed panic.
“H-help me!” He begged. “They’re coming! Don’t let them get me!”

Gavin shrank from the wild-eyed man, pushing him back a respectable distance. “Get off me!” he muttered... And then the strangest thing happened.

The moment his hands connected with the other man’s body, the man disappeared! Gavin stared at the space once occupied by the escaped convict. He looked down at his hands, wondering if the whole thing had been a dream. He could clearly picture the man in his stained, soiled, and tattered clothes, stumbling back a few paces... and then nothing. The crows flew on overhead, and all was quiet.
What had he done?

Velora chose that moment to alight in the clearing with Tristan’s assistance. Gavin was still staring at the spot, willing the man to reappear again.
“What happened?” Forester Velora demanded. “Did he come this way? Did you see him?”

Gavin couldn’t make his lips move—and then they moved, but his voice didn’t work.
Velora snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hello, anybody home? Gavin, report!”

The command galvanized the young ranger into action. He snapped to attention and saluted. “Yes, ma’am! Ah, the prisoner came through here, ma’am, and he...” Gavin stopped, the words escaping him as his memory again tried to face the matter of the disappearing man.

"He what?" Velora swept her eyes from one end of the space to the other.
Gavin blinked and gulped a few times. "He, um... disappeared."

Immediately, her glare focused on him with burning intensity. Gavin winced and wished he could bury himself under the ground to avoid that keen stare.
"Disappeared how, exactly?" He could almost detect the low growl behind her words.
Gavin tossed his hands into the air. "How should I know? I was staring right at him, and he--"

The ranger gestured toward the space in front of him, and in the same moment, a body hurtled out of thin air.

The bearded man didn't even bother standing upright. The moment his eye caught Velora, he collapsed to his knees, raising his clasped and quivering hands. "Madam Forester, forgive me for the trouble I've caused, and please accept my life as payment for the crimes I've committed!"

Gavin's jaw dropped, and Velora knitted her brow in confusion. "I'm sorry, what?"
Raedyn clapped his hand to his heart. "I, Raedyn Tangeron, swear that I will spend the remainder of my days and the strength of my limbs in the service of the Royal Family of The Realm, and with my body and my life I will defend and protect the King and his subjects!"

His vehemence only perplexed Velora even more. "Wait... weren't you just hired to kill one of us? And how do you expect us to believe that you aren't trying to double cross us?"

Raedyn shook his head, his eyes wide and somber. "After what I've seen, madam, I would never--I cannot!"
Velora's eyes darted to Sable, who sat patiently at her side, watching the man's every movement. The wolf didn't seem to be on edge at all, just calmly watchful. If nothing else, Velora took her cues from that. "What you have seen?" she asked. "Why? What did you see?"

Raedyn shuddered. His eyes stared straight ahead and his face paled as his hands went limp. His voice came out hollowly. "Juros," he whispered. He looked up at Velora without a hint of guile in his face. "I have seen Juros Himself, and he called me to account for my misdeeds in service to Her. His price for leniency in light of all that I have done was to devote myself in service to you."

Velora's mind spun. Juros! The almighty ruler of Justicia, the realm of the Abnormals! She remembered Jade the Angel talking about him, the originator of the Gifts--but why was he still involved with the goings-on of the mortal realm? Didn't they suffer enough interference when Troy went rogue? She looked at the man still groveling in the dirt before her. "Oh, get up!" she groused, waving her hand.
Raedyn bounded to his feet. "Yes, ma'am," he said.
Velora wagged her head. "I don't know what Juros has to do with any of this, but now that you're on our side..." It sounded strange just saying it, for crying out loud! "Then the first thing I want to know is who hired you, what they told you, and how much you know about this plot against the crown!"

Raedyn nodded. "I will tell you anything you want to know."

Velora beckoned to Gavin, who'd finally gotten over his shock at everything that had just unfolded before him. "All right, standard procedure with new recruits, Gavin," she barked. "Take him back to headquarters and give him a uniform, show him the jurisdictions and boundaries, all the newcomer orientation stuff--"

"You'll do no such thing!" a deep voice commanded.

Velora had barely advanced two paces back toward the headquarters in the middle of the Forest when a dark-haired man stepped out of a rift in the space behind him--but unlike other times, the rift stayed open.

Velora tensed, but she ducked her head in respect. "Prince Aspen," she infused her voice with all the annoyance she felt at being ordered about like a subordinate. "To what do I owe this unspeakable honor?"

The dark-haired Elf sneered. "Spare your platitudes. You are hereby summoned to appear in the Forest Court of Elvendom immediately." 

His eyes traveled over each face before him. "All three of you."

<><><><><><><><><><>

<<<< Previous           Next >>>>>