Chapter Twenty Nine
Nallia herself tended to the captain’s wounds. After seeing her choke down a bitter tincture that instantly ebbed the pain in her body and her mind the healer laid her out and began closing the wounds. The touch of her abilities felt like sinking into a cool, fresh spring. The fires burning on her arm, neck, and hand vanished and her mind relaxed. Exhaustion overcame her and Dahlia slipped from consciousness.
Twelve women waited for her on the other side, looking much the worse for wear. Bloody, beaten, and bearing wounds that would have killed a person of flesh and blood they lay, some barely breathing. One at a time, Dahlia drew them to her and held them. She experienced everything that they had, taking dozens of wounds herself. That was the cost of calling her puppets, every bit of pain they experienced she would have to suffer through.
When she summoned them she created a great amount of power, but the cost was equally high. She’d wondered if that had been what had driven the Puppet Master of legends mad. The stories described his puppets as shadows. If she left these parts of herself damaged and fragmented, what would happen if she continued to call on them? Would they turn to twisted shadows of their former selves? Would they drive her mad? She’d learned quickly that anything she did had a cost--whether as mortal as swinging an ax or mundane as leaving a cup unwashed--and if you refused to pay it then the consequences multiplied.
So she accepted the pain, letting it sear through her. Not just to avoid the consequences but because she had loved and cared for these different aspects of herself and her heart broke to see them suffer any further. When the pain finally subsided and she was left alone in the labyrinth she collapsed down into the grass and slipped into a dark, dreamless state of relief.
She awoke in the infirmary to find that the spots where she’d been wounded were tender but fully closed with no tell-tale scarring. Sabir sat in the corner of the room reading. The cuts he’d received during the fight had been closed as well. Fidelity lay on another bed under a window snoring lightly, her head cradled on her arms. Her wounds had been closed but her face was wan and drawn.
Sabir looked up as Dahlia shifted, “Good to see you awake, Captain. Nallia said there was only so much she could do to help you recover from the psychic side of your fight and that we should just let you sleep.”
“Nel?”
“Should be alright. His cuts were deep and he had a stab wound that punctured a lung but they got him stabilized at the gate before moving him here for care.”
Dahlia nodded, relieved. “How long have I been out?”
“About six hours. There was a lot of noise as they moved people in and out in the rooms around us following your fight but you slept through.”
She wasn’t surprised, once she’d sustained that much psychic damage not much could drag her back to consciousness.
“Did you stay after bringing Fidelity here?”
“Briefly. My injuries were not life threatening. I returned to the barrack and got everyone settled. Then I left Arreal in charge, and came back”
“What happened?” she asked.
“Well since Captain Ravin seems to have killed their spokesperson they’re accusing him of interfering in the trial.”
“Bullshit,” Dahlia spat out.
“Yeah, the council members were watching and clearly saw you bring your opponent down before Zarek threw a dagger at you. Zarek’s substitute claims you violated the rules of the trial by bringing in additional fighters and Zarek was trying to defend his champion after that violation. In which case it would be hard to argue that Captain Ravin was the one who invalidated the trial as they originally claimed. And so on, back and forth. The short of it is that they claim it was our side’s fault that the trial was invalid and the council is having none of it.”
Sabir continued, “I gathered from Captain Borreal that Mazaran isn’t surprised and that this strengthened his argument that they weren’t really here for ‘justice’ which I don’t think anyone really bought anyways. He said he’d be back as soon as he could...ah I believe that’s him now.”
Borreal stepped into the room, his vision lingering on Fidelity for a moment as he arched one eyebrow.
“You know, if I hadn’t seen this pink-haired monster throwing men twice her size earlier I wouldn’t have been able to envision it. I’m still a little lost for words.”
He shook his head and then continued, “I’m glad to see you’re awake. Needless to say our opponents haven’t changed their stance since your trial and our council will not budge on their position that the trial was an open and shut case that you triumphed in. I think people are a little shocked that at one point there were eleven of you but it should die down. After all, the gods themselves judged you favorably. Who are mere mortals to question that?” His lip curled a bit. She knew Borreal judged her on her own merit and thought of the gods very little, much less of those people who relied on them.
He continued, “They seem to have come prepared to turn this into a full campaign and Mazaran is convinced they have something planned. Their demands were just a cover. I doubt they seriously expected him to hand you over in the first place. Luckily for us they also seemed caught by surprise that he offered a trial by combat. That stunt at the end with the dagger seemed extremely ill thought out. Or extremely arrogant.”
He sighed a little, “So now it’s a game of wits and patience. We are better stocked than they are and supplied by the city while they are in unfamiliar territory so they can’t hope to starve us out. Neither can they hope to break in through a frontal assault, we are too well defended. So they must make a move, likely soon, and we must try to anticipate it.”
He knelt down next to her, “I know you spoke of honor and duty, but accepting a challenge that left you so exposed was not something that could have been rightly asked of you. Everyone here is honored by your bravery.”
Her voice was very quiet, “Thank you, Captain Borreal. I know some of your men sacrificed themselves to pull me out.”
“I can’t think of anything I’d have rather they gave their lives for than to protect their fellow soldiers. They felt the same way.”
They were silent for a moment.
“Is there anything I can get for you?” Borreal asked softly.
“I’d like to speak to the man I fought, is he being cared for?”
“Yes, he’s restrained but relatively comfortable. It seems he knew Dr. Nallia before her time here so she tended to him. Well guarded, of course. Research modified the same creation the intruders used on you to stop him from accessing his powers. He’s got a nasty headache but otherwise unharmed. I can take you to where he’s being held.”
“Good, give me a moment and we’ll go.”
Dahlia dressed herself in a fresh wrap Sabir had brought her. Her captain’s jacket had been shredded and her tunic wasn’t in much better shape.
Sabir returned to his book and his silent watch over Fidelity as Dahlia and Borreal left.
Mayuera was being held in the infirmary. Her puppets had inflicted numerous cuts subduing him and her psychic attacks had caused considerable damage. She entered to find him chained to an infirmary bed with the metal disk strapped to his arm. She noted that the spikes that had embedded it into her skin had been removed.
She also saw that he was awake and straining to interpret the noises around him. The construct that had restricted her abilities would be doing the same to him and he would no longer be able to see with his psychic abilities.
“Mayuera,” she began and saw his recognition of her voice.
“Puppet Master.” His tone was neutral, there was neither fear nor distaste in how he pronounced the title.
“I’d prefer Captain DeMorra if you would, please. If you can answer a question for me I’d like to keep this civil.”
“Very well. Captain DeMorra, then. What is it you’d like to ask?”
“Did you create those traps that detonated in your men’s minds after I took them captive?” Her voice was cold, carefully concealing any emotion.
Mayuera hung his head. “I wish I could say I didn’t know what you were referring to but at least I can say they were not of my creation.”
“And have you seen what they do to your soldiers?”
“No, I was told that they destroy the mind very quickly in the case of enemy capture.”
“‘Quickly’ is not the term I would use. If you were not restrained I would offer to show you what’s left of the one man I managed to save once the screaming started.”
His face remained calm, “Do not feed me your lies, I will fall for none of them.”
“I’ve been told you know Dr. Nallia. She treated the captain who held the traps back while I ran to where the men were being held. Would you trust her?”
She felt his surety slip just a little. “It has been a long time, much has changed.”
“Very well. With your shield lowered I can tell that you truly did not create those perversions. Rest assured that if you had I would have killed you myself, even defenseless as you are. As it is you will be treated as a prisoner of war and you can either volunteer to answer my questions or I can look for the information myself. Did you know that the same construct being used to restrict your psychic abilities now was impaled into me by a team of your soldiers that attacked me as I slept?”
Mayuera shook his head. “If soldiers were sent to take you out I did not know but am not surprised. I could see the darkness in your psyche growing.”
“Would it surprise you to hear that their instructions were to leave me alive? I assume you were told the same.”
“Yes, you were to face justice. I was told to bring you down but leave you whole enough to face our trial.”
“And yet you did not attempt to follow that order?”
“No, a monster should be cut down before it’s had a chance to grow horns.”
Dahlia felt herself grow defensive at his words.
It doesn’t matter, she reminded herself, this man is nothing but a fallen opponent.
“Believe what you will, it seems you will not be able to help us determine the true aim of this attack.” Dahlia turned to leave. She felt a stab of surprise come from the man as she left him unharmed. She felt her anger rising and spun back around.
“What? You think I would needlessly kill or torment a defenseless old man? An old friend of a respected member of this force? You call me ‘monster’, call for my death, say you see the darkness in my mind. You see nothing. Your vision is as blind as your eyes. Yes, there is darkness in me but you know nothing of darkness. Light creates shadows we must embrace or lose part of ourselves. Your balance is an illusion. You speak of rigidity, which is easily shattered, as though that were balance. You label my duality as division and forget that opposites are two sides that create a single coin. That is why you lost. Not because I was stronger but because you did not see the power in accepting both the division of the psyche and its unity. I was able to separate and coordinate, moving multiple pieces at once towards the same goal. You are the only person I’ve met with the same ability to truly see psychic energies and yet you saw only what you expected: a monster attacking you head on. Is that how you missed what was done to the men you should have protected? Is that how you missed the true monster in your midst?”
Mayuera looked quizzically at her. “Who was the master that taught you that?”
She glared at him, her temper settling after the flare, “Master Ko.”
Mayuera gave a small, sad smile. “Yes, I thought that sounded familiar. You should know that I disagreed with his focus on duality. Master Ko would not have missed the sprouting of a monster and yet it seems he fostered you as a student. I will think on this.”
Dahlia put a strong leash on her anger as she turned on her heel and strode out, “Do as you wish, you have nothing to fear from me as long as you offer no violence.”
Borreal followed her out.
She stood in the hall for a moment, collecting herself.
“So is that how you were able to beat him?” Borreal wondered aloud, “I must admit I was curious. I could only follow half the fight and it was one of the strangest things I’ve witnessed.”
“Yes. He had me physically outmatched but his physical and psychic abilities augmented each other rather than acting separately. I was able to defend physically, attack psychically, and prepare the energy needed to summon my puppets. Most people with an ability can do one at a time. He was able to do both at the same time. I can do multiple things at different times, not reliant on the timing of the others. It’s just exhausting. It’s probably the reason I favor duel weapons now that I think about it...” She trailed off into silence.
“I think I’d go insane trying to fight two battles at the same time.”
Dahlia gave him a weary smile. “I’m beginning to believe sanity is a nice myth we tell ourselves to make things easy.”
Borreal put a hand on her shoulder, “When you start speaking philosophically I know you’re tired. Go back to your barrack, your soldiers need you and you need something familiar.”
“Good advice from an old mentor is worth its weight in gold,” Dahlia offered a smile. “I wish I could thank you adequately for the support you’ve given me.”
Borreal acknowledged the sentiment with a nod and they parted. Dahlia walked along the path she had trodden so many times before, her mind strangely silent for all the turmoil of the day. She took in the soft summer colors, made silver by the moonlight, and relished the night’s cool breeze.
“Every moment is a gift,” she reflected aloud, quoting her old master. The peace of the night became more precious, more real after the struggle for her life and the lives of those she protected. Within the high walls the night was calm and she could let go of the threat of the soldiers camped outside for the moment.
Her steps led her to her own barrack. She felt the presence of her soldiers in the common area so she headed that way.