El'Anorath (First Draft)

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

         Wells and DeVega sat together at a small wooden table in their room, eating a light dinner and talking quietly.  So far, their search for clues had turned up very little.  They had become fairly familiar with the city and were able to pinpoint a few areas of interest.  Nothing, however, concrete or encouraging.  When they felt they had something worthwhile, the trail would go cold as quickly as they picked it up.  All in all, they were quickly losing hope of ever finding Nathalya.

         "These Corrinites don't like talking about their work, even after several drinks," said Wells, poking at a steamed carrot with her fork.

         "No, they've probably been warned," replied DeVega. 

         "So what do we know?" asked Wells. DeVega thought for a moment before answering.

         "We know that we can rule out most of the lower tiers of the city, I'd say the lower three.  Unfortunately, the fourth tier has the heaviest military presence and the fifth tier is effectively off limits to civilians.  The lord of the city, this Tesson guy, lives on the fifth tier in that tower.  It isn't much to go off of, but if she is still within the city, she'll be somewhere up there I'll wager."

         "What do you want to do?" Wells asked.

         "I'm going to go talk with someone who might be able to point us in the right direction.  I wanted to build his trust up a little bit before asking him too many questions.  He said he was a soldier and left for personal reasons.  He said he no longer wanted to be part of an organization that keeps secrets, even from its own soldiers."

         "Okay, I guess I'll head off and keep looking as well, though it feels hopeless now."

         "Actually, I think you should come with me," said DeVega.  "I told him I was here with my sister and we were thinking of joining the military.  It would be less suspicious if you were there and he could see for himself."

         "All right," replied Wells.  "I'll go get dressed, then."

         A few hours later and DeVega and Wells found themselves sitting at a small table in a tavern that didn't seem to have many patrons.  They sipped on their drinks and waited patiently for the man that DeVega had mentioned earlier.  So far, there was no sign of him, and after about an hour of waiting, Wells became impatient.

         "When was he supposed to be here?" she asked.

         "He should be here already," replied DeVega.  As soon as he finished speaking, however, a young man with blond hair and glasses strode by and approached the bar.  DeVega nodded at Wells and motioned towards the young man.  When he had gotten his drink, the man turned and saw DeVega.  He smiled and then walked towards their table.

         "Is this seat taken, my friend?" he asked, pulling out one of the wooden chairs.

         "Not at all.  Please have a seat and enjoy your drink with us," replied DeVega.  "This is my sister, by the way.  Her name is Trinity."

         The young man reached out a hand, which Wells shook, smiling politely.  "I'm Errol.  It is a pleasure to meet you finally.  Kale has told me a lot about you."

         "Has he?" asked Wells, giving DeVega a meaningful glance.  DeVega disregarded the look and changed the subject.

         "So how are you, Errol?  Last time we spoke you were in the process of leaving the military."

         Errol took a drink before replying.  "Yeah, those militant bastards can have their secrets.  I want nothing to do with folk of that kind."

         "What happened?" asked Wells.

         "Well, it's difficult to explain, and in the end you probably won't believe me.  We'll just say I found out that some childhood tales are truer than others."

         "What tales?" she pressed, trying to sound casual.

         "Do you remember the one about the titans of Erath?" asked Errol.  Wells and DeVega nodded and he continued.

         "Well, I was on a mission, we were supposed to bring back this girl, she was as lovely and as kind as a soft wind through the budding spring flowers.  I can't say too much about why they wanted her, being still under oath, but I can tell you that she was something special to them. 

         "It wasn't until I learned that there were others like her, even within the military, that I realized that the stories I had heard about the titans were true, not just something parents tell their children so that they grow up morally proper."

         "What was her name?" interrupted Wells, unwisely.  DeVega shot her a warning glance.  Errol didn't seem to notice.

         "I'm not at liberty to say.  But I felt bad for her.  She was so trusting and wanted everything to play out better than it did."

         "Better than it did?  Is she dead?" Wells blurted out.  She was breathing heavily and gripped tightly to the handle of her mug, her face reddening.

         "What? No, but what do you care?" Errol asked with a confused look on his face. 

         "She doesn't.  Forgive my sister, she has had a bit too much to drink already," DeVega said, trying to salvage the conversation.  "Please go on with your tale."

         "NO!" shouted Wells, slamming her clenched fists on the table top.  Errol was taken aback and what few patrons were in the tavern turned to look at the three of them.

         "Is something the matter?  Did I upset you?" asked Errol innocently. 

         Wells lowered her voice.  "That girl you were taking back was my best friend."

         "But she is Alliance..," replied Errol.

         "So are we.  We're trying to find her.  If you know where she is, you must tell us!  I have to get her back!  I don't care about the war or the Alliance or Corrinites.  I only care that I get her back!"

         "What was her name, then?" asked Errol.

         "Nathalya, Nathalya Harms.  She's a Ghost Agent." 

         Errol sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. DeVega, expecting the worst, was trying to come up with an escape route as quick as he could.  Errol looked at them both for a moment, then drained his mug.

         "Kale, is this true?" he asked at last, leaning forward and speaking softly.

         "Every word," DeVega admitted.  "We left as our main camp was beset by the Corrinite military, even after the cease-fire was agreed upon.  We're not here on behalf of the Alliance, we just want our friend back."

         "And you two aren't really brother and sister?"

         Wells and DeVega shook their heads.  To their surprise, Errol laughed.

         "Are you going to report us?" DeVega asked quietly.

         "Report you?  I should, shouldn't I," he laughed again, DeVega's jaw was clinched tightly.  "But don't worry, I'm not going to.  In fact, I'm going to help you."

         "Help us?" Wells asked.  "How? Do you know where she is?"

         Errol motioned towards the bartender, who brought out three more drinks.  "Put them on my tab," he said, then turned back to Wells and DeVega.  "I know exactly where she is, but we'll need a hell of a lot of luck to get her out.  Drink up, friends, and I'll tell you all I know - though I'll be executed if anyone knows I'm talking with you about this."

         "We won't say a word to anyone, we just want to help Nathalya," DeVega assured him.  Errol nodded and then set to telling Wells and DeVega all he knew about Nathalya and her whereabouts.  He told them all the details he could remember of the way to, and around, the keep at the top tier of Corrin City.

         

         It was an unlikely turn of events for Wells and DeVega.  They had not expected to go from having nothing, to having everything they looked for, right down to the very floor and room number in which Nathalya was held.  DeVega and Wells were finally feeling a sense of hope as the young man spoke.  They felt their nerves subside and found that talking with Errol over drinks was almost pleasant.

         "I don't know why, and I can't explain it," Errol started.  "But I would like to help Nathalya in any way I can.  It isn't right, for her to be treated this way."

         "How do you suppose we'll make it up to the tower?" asked DeVega, a question long on his mind.

         "I haven't a clue.  Often times, high value prisoners are only kept in the tower for a few weeks.  I'll check with some sources and find out whether or not they'll be moving anyone around.  In the meantime, where are you two staying?

         "Tavrill's," replied DeVega.  "On the eastern side of the town."

         "I know the place," said Errol.  "Tavrill is my uncle.  I'll come by if I find anything out.  Until then, I recommend you keep out of sight."

         "We will, how soon do you think you'll know something?" asked Wells.

         "I'll have to sign into our computer system and look at the database, but that won't be difficult or time consuming. I'll try to give you an update by tomorrow afternoon or evening."

         The three of them drained their mugs again and stood to say farewell.  Wells wanted to burst out with joy and hug Errol, but she restrained herself and simply took his outstretched hand in hers.

         "Thank you," she said.  "You don't know how much this means to me."

         "I can imagine," replied Errol.  "I'd only just met her, but I felt a connection with her straight away.  I can only fathom how much that connection has grown between you two throughout your lives together.  It must have been heartbreaking to lose her."

         "It was, and I had to watch it through her eyes on my monitor."

         "I'll get her back to you, I promise," Errol eased her mind.  He wasn't certain he could keep such a promise, but seeing the grateful smile spread over Wells' features was worth it.

         "We'll see you by tomorrow evening then," said DeVega as he shook Errol's hand firmly.  Errol nodded and turned to leave.

         

         Wells and DeVega left the tavern together and took to walking the empty streets outside.  The air was cold and Wells felt a shiver run through her body.  She pulled her bright yellow jacket about her and looked up at the sky as they walked down the dark streets.  She could see the stars above and the waxing moon shining brightly among them. 

         She could feel that El'Anorath was quiet, almost at peace with its place in the universe.  Perhaps the lonely planet was oblivious to the hardships taking place on its surface, or perhaps it was indifferent or felt that the sooner it was left alone, the happier it would be.  Though it gave her great anxiety, she tried to imagine what she would say to Nathalya if they were able to rescue her.  Then she remembered a song they used to sing together and hummed the melody quietly.

         "What is that?" asked DeVega. 

         "Part of a melody to a song we used to sing together when we were little.  We would splash our feet in the water to keep the timing," Then she laughed and said, "We sang and splashed so wildly once that we got completely soaked and caught a cold.  We spent the next few days sick and drinking hot soup together."

         DeVega laughed lightly, and seeing a new side of Wells, stopped walking to look at her for a moment.  Her jet black hair appeared even darker in the pale street lights and her granite eyes looked as though they might hide a galaxy within them.  "The night is still somewhat young," he said.  "Do you want to do anything else or head back to the room?"

         "No, I'm feeling too good to just end the night," she answered.  "I feel a little bad for Nathalya not being here, but maybe we should celebrate our sudden luck a little bit.  We've been working hard trying to find things out and haven't taken any time to relax."

         "Well," DeVega said.  "Errol did warn us to keep out of sight.  We'll have to be smart about this. I'll head back to the room.  You can enjoy the night.  If we are separate, I don't think they'll think twice about us being the intruders.  I'm a bit tired anyway."

         "Okay, I think I'll just go for a walk then. I'll see you back at the room."

         "If you aren't back in about three hours, I'm coming to look for you."

         "All right.  I'll be back in three hours, or sooner if it gets any colder."

         Wells found herself wandering about the lower tiers with no real destination in mind.  She rode the trolley several times, which skipped passed the fourth and fifth tiers passed eight in the evening.  The city was mostly quiet with a few young people out and about also enjoying the night. 

         She sat down at a bench with a frozen treat she had bought from a little stand and looked towards the tall tower looming over the city.  It seemed to glow in the moonlight and the Corrinite flags whipped in the breeze on the ramparts, clearly inspired by medieval castles from history books.  A strange feeling came over her just then; she felt watched.

         The more she tried to shake the feeling, the stronger it got.  When she couldn't take anymore, goose-bumps running down her arms, she stood and discarded the rest of her treat, then walked to the end of the street.  It was dimly lit and there were tall buildings on either side that ran the length of the road. Crossing an empty intersection, she found herself back in her original district and could see the neon sign that flashed Tavrill's name. 

         As she neared, she saw several dark figures standing outside of the tavern.  In the middle of them was a man slumped to his knees.  Wells' heart skipped a beat when she saw it was DeVega.  She ducked into an alley and peered carefully around. They had rifles at the ready and were shouting orders.

         "Where is the other!" one shouted and prodded DeVega with the barrel of his rifle.  DeVega stayed silent, his hands clasped on top of his head.  Wells counted six figures altogether, their backs to her.

         She had the darkness of the street on her side and decided to let her training - or perhaps something much stronger - take over.  Pulling out the pistol she always kept tucked away in her belt, she turned the safety off and, letting her bright yellow jacket fall to the ground, sprung into action.  Two of the soldiers dropped dead before the others could react.  They pulled their rifles up and looked around behind where they were standing, but Wells had already ducked into the opposite alleyway. 

         The soldiers clicked the flashlights on that were affixed to their rifles and frantically searched the street for the attacker.  One guard kept his rifle trained on DeVega.  When a lone soldier stepped too close to the shadow in the alley, Wells was there waiting for him.  She came from behind and swung an arm around his neck.  Pulling down, the soldier's back arched under her pressure. She pressed the pistol into his back and pulled the trigger.

         The remaining two soldiers walked side by side and moved slowly towards the sound of the gunshot, their eyes down sights.  They came into the alley and found the body of their fallen comrade and the ladder from a fire escape, but no sign of the killer. There was a dull thump behind them, but before they could turn to investigate Wells fired two shots.  Both soldiers fell face down on the cold cement.

         DeVega was still knelt down in front of the last soldier, who was shaking visibly, suddenly finding himself alone against an unseen phantom.

         "S-Show yourself!" he shouted at the darkness around him.  "Throw your weapon down and come out or I'll shoot him!"

         Wells checked her magazine.  One shot left.  She stepped out of the alley and onto the street.  The soldier looked at her for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise, before speaking.

         "Drop your weapon, or he's dead!" he commanded.  Wells stayed silent.

         "I said drop your weapon!"

         Silence.

         "Drop i-"!  He fell dead before he could finish speaking, his blood showering DeVega and the crack of the shot still echoing down the long and dark alleys.  Wells, however, had never raised her arm to shoot.  Out of the darkness on the other side of the street came a man carrying a smoking rifle. Wells recognized him as soon as he stepped into the light of the neon tavern sign.

         "Tavrill!" she said in disbelief. Tavrill bent over the dead soldier and pulled a set of keys off of his belt.  He undid the restraints on DeVega's wrists and led them quickly inside.

         "Thank you, Tavrill," said DeVega.

         "Don't mention it.  My nephew called me to warn me there might be trouble," he pointed to a corner of the room, and there, sitting in a chair, was Errol.  He stood and walked towards them. 

         "We have to get you some place safe, you can't stay here," Errol said.

         "Where can we go?" asked Wells.

         "Follow me, I know a place.  We can talk more once we get there."

         After a brief walk and a short ride on the trolley, the three found themselves entering an old military bunker. There were cobwebs hanging all around and a single lamp hung down on a long wire from the ceiling.  The walls were cold grey steel.

         "This should do for the night, restroom's over there.  We'll make our move tomorrow morning," explained Errol.

         "Make our move? You found out what they are planning to do with Nathalya?" asked Wells.

         "Yes, but there has been a change in their plans."

         "Go on," pressed DeVega. 

         "She was moved to the infirmary yesterday. Taken ill, apparently," he said, to which Wells let out a gasp. "They've got some kind of big plan she's somehow involved in."

         "What plan?" asked Wells.

         "I don't know, but if we miss her tomorrow, you might not get another chance."