"Of Light" - 21-23/45

[rissy_james]

Title:  Of Light
Author:  Rissy James
Rating:  M (overall)
Pairing:  Cain/DG, eventual Jeb/Az
Summary:  The Emerald must be returned to its guardian, and DG is left behind.  When a generations-old threat resurfaces, she must gather more than her courage to save her sister, and to find Wyatt Cain.
Extras: "Of Light" trailer on youtube; Cast Pictures on Livejournal


Of Light

Chapter Twenty-One

It was shouting that stirred him to consciousness. There was pressure on his body, slowly lifting; his body was being jostled. With a groan and a heave, the Commander pushed a table off of himself, and staggered to his feet. Lt. Shore was staring at him, and retracted his proffered hand.

“What happened, sir?” Shore asked. He looked agitated.

It was slowly coming back to him. The trickery of the little witches... a wave of energy, and then a second. Then flying furniture. The table connecting with his head had knocked him unconscious, and by the look of the littered room, she'd thrown more than just the table at him. The Sorceress, Azkadellia.

He'd choke the life out of her when he got his hands on her.

“Never mind what happened. Where are they?”

Lt. Shore hesitated, and the Commander felt his anger grow. “Where are they?” the Commander demanded again, through gritted teeth.

Shore heaved a sigh, looked down at the floor as he spoke. “We have just begun a search for them, Commander. We were only just alerted to the situation when the princess's maid came to bring her supper, and found you and the others on the floor. She called for the guards immediately.”

The Commander looked around, his anger boiling away now into a full blown rage. Little girls, he thought, and spat on the floor. His underling was watching him expectantly.

“Search this floor,” the Commander ordered. “And the floors below.”

“Yes, sir,” Shore said, and ran off without saluting. The Commander rolled his eyes. Jittery and unreliable, Shore was due for a demotion, and if this mess wasn't cleaned up, it would probably be a permanent one. He put a hand on the back of his head, already feeling a pounding headache. He looked at the demolished room. The table where the Emerald had fallen now bore a black burn mark.

The Emerald.

He didn't bother to look for it, knowing full well they would have taken it with them. There was no chance for escape, and he wondered absently what he would do when he got them back in his grasp. Two little princesses, he thought with a grimace.

This had been so well planned. He would rise to glory above that of his forefathers, would redeem the banishment of his people, would return the Emerald to rightful soil. As it had fallen into place for Dorothy Gale a century before, now it would fall into place for him. A powerless Queen, a disgraced monarchy. An unprotected treasure.

Years, he'd sat and waited, watching as one piece connected with the other. An eclipse foreseen by astronomers approached, an age-old prophecy whispered behind hands and closed doors. A Queen with two daughters... then only one, and one alone.

The entire nation mourns, his scout had said. The funeral procession of the tiny princess stretched farther than the eye could see, marching slowly through the streets of their Shining City.

The Shining City, where Dorothy Gale had reached sanctuary, had gone beyond his grandfather's grasp. Under the protection of a king, who petted the dear child who'd brought him the very thing he'd almost paid a king's ransom for. The Emerald.

The news over the mountains grew ever grayer. Every time his scout would return, it would be with grave tidings.

The Princess Azkadellia has overthrown her mother's rule and taken to the throne.

He'd nodded, behind his desk. When the scout had left, he'd risked a grin. It would only be a matter of time. And true enough, it had been... for the nine annuals after she had dethroned her mother, Azkadellia had searched endlessly for the stone, without rest. In comfort, and with assurance, he'd watched the skies and waited.

Permanent darkness hadn't mattered to him. His people were of the below ground variety, venturing rarely into the light from the double suns, seeking sparingly the wind in the trees, the pinprick glow of stars.

And finally... the Emerald was unsheathed from its hiding place, and he'd seen his time to strike.

Now, in his arrogance, he could see he'd underestimated the little princesses, just as his grandfather had underestimated Dorothy Gale.

He walked at a brisk pace to the second-level access staircase. He reached into his pocket, and found nothing. Searched every other pocket and found... nothing. Realization dawned instantly. “Damn them!” he roared. Angrily, he punched a series of numbers into the keypad, and the lock released.

Halfway to his office, he heard someone calling him. A human boy, probably second or third generation slave. “Sir,” the boy called, and threw his soft body down at the Commander's feet.

Grunting, he nudged the boy with his foot. “What is it?”

The boy was cowering, shaking. He did not rise, nor look at the Outlander. “Sir, the lieutenant ordered me to find you. He requests you down in the slave quarters, where you kept the prisoners.”

Kept. Past tense. With a growl, the Commander stalked past the boy, crushing outstretched fingers underneath the weight of his boot.

The boy slowly rose to his feet, crying silently over his mashed fingers. Glaring hatefully at the departing Outlander, who never looked back, he thought he might go down to the kitchen to see his mother, show her his injury. He'd turned on his heel, determined, when around the corner came running four people, two guards, a beautiful woman with silver hair, a younger woman with a mass of dark waves.

“Ohhh,” the boy whispered, and fell into a bow. He knew who these women were, his mother had bemoaned over the treatment of the rulers of the Zone. He loved the stories his mother told of her childhood in this faraway land, stories that gave him wonderful things to dream about, instead of work, and pain, and more work.

The young woman smiled at him, and held a finger to her lips. “Shhh.” It was a long, drawn out hush, and he nodded at her, wide-eyed. The blonde-haired guard in front of her waved the two women forward, his blue eyes lingering on the princess as she moved around a corner and out of sight. He stayed until last, nodded at the boy, shushed him the way the princess had. The boy only nodded, barely able to contain his excitement.

When the strangers had disappeared, the boy turned tail and ran to find his mother.

Azkadellia nearly cried out with relief at the sight of her sister and mother. Too stiff and scared to give much greeting, they stood silently together, leaning on each other, listening as their next step was discussed by their escorts.

“The card opens this door,” Jeb told his father. He held the plastic key in his hand, tapping it against the opposite palm. “But there's no guarantee that its going to get us out the front door, or any other surface exit.”

Wyatt Cain sighed deeply, hands on his hips. His head was down and he was deep in thought. Whatever move they made, valuable seconds were being wasted standing there. They'd come close to the Commander already; the burly outlander had nearly crossed their path on their way to the meeting point, and he was eager for it to not happen again. Even the rifles two of his men carried might not be much use against an Outlander's tough hide; he had no idea, having never come up against one before. Rogue outlanders sometimes popped up in rural areas of the Zone, generally to cause trouble, but his detail had always kept him in Central City, and no outlander was fool enough to enter there.

“There has to be some sort of loading dock,” he thought out loud after a moment. “A supply hatch, maybe. Some out of the way exit to this place.”

All the men double checked their weapons, and together the group left the tiny storage room and crept furtively down the hallway towards the stairs. Jeb used the access card, the door unlocked, and they ascended the stairs to the first level.

DG followed close behind Cain, trying to calm her pounding heart. The close call with the Commander and the slave boy had her nerves rattled. Moving from one shadowed corner to the next, trying to keep footsteps quiet, the entire group moving as one onward, without knowing where they were going. They numbered too many, would draw too much attention. Why didn't they run into anyone?

They must be searching the lower floors for us, was the only answer she could give herself.

They came across a large intersection, a meeting of five corridors. Cain swore, and backtracked the group to a small alcove where a few maintenance boxes hung on the wall. Pvt. Burrows smashed out the light dangling from the ceiling, throwing them all into shadow and darkness. The sudden loss of the light made DG's throat close up, and she found the wall again, leaning on it for support.

Jeb and Burrows went forward to scout the hallways, moving quickly and with soldier's stealth. Cain watched the hallway after the two younger men had gone, holding out an arm to stop anyone from moving forward... As if any of us would sneeze without you giving us permission, Cain, DG thought with a roll of her eyes. Everything teetered on edge, and even a simple jest in her head felt like too much.

“Az,” DG choked out.

Her sister came to her side, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We're almost out of here, DG,” she said.

“If we can find the way out,” DG whispered, trying not to let her mother hear... or Cain. She was only brave because they expected it of her, she would gladly curl up on the floor and have a good cry if there was time for it, just for the release. The weight of the Emerald in her pocket, however slight, felt like too much, and she didn't know how to bear it with grace or dignity. She could only face this with stark acceptance, and take everything as it came... it was a familiar, comfortable feeling, but it didn't make her feel any better.

“DG, darling, do not think pessimistically,” her mother admonished, but The Queen wore a gentle smile.

Footsteps were running towards them, but Cain's stature didn't change, and DG knew it was only one of the others returning; Jeb, she knew, once he started speaking.

“I found the main exit,” he told the others. “Its heavily guarded. Even if we managed to overpower them, there is no telling if the key we have will open the door or if any one of them holds the right key.”

DG groaned. More bad news. She found herself thinking back to Glitch, on their previous adventure; her friend who had always known something about what to do next, whether it irrelevant or frivolous, at least it was always something. With his brain back in his head, he would have been an amazing ally to have at the moment. Oh, Jesus, she wanted to go home to Finaqua. She ached for her friends, her father... the suns, and the sound of the lake.

“We'll wait until Burrows returns, and we'll see what he was able to find,” Cain said, directing his words and gaze to The Queen, but his eyes strayed to DG, who offered him a tiny, stretched smile. “If he doesn't find another exit, then...” he trailed off, unable to put into words what they would need to do.

Storm the front gate, and see if any of us lives long enough to check the guards for keys, DG thought bitterly.

Her mother was beside her, a gentle touch on her wrist. “DG, you've been having dreams,” she said matter-of-factly.

DG nodded slowly. More footsteps, running. Again, Cain didn't jump, didn't raise his gun. Burrows returning.

“Of the Gale? Of her capture, and escape?”

DG nodded again. “How do you know this, Mother?”

Her mother waved her off. “DG, darling. If you've dreamed of the capture of Dorothy Gale, of those past events, events that took place here! Think, darling. Did you dream her escape?”

DG's eyes widened. Could it be possible? She tried to wrack her mind, to bring forth hazy memories that weren't even her own. Gray hallways materialized in her mind, coming sharper into focus and then fading into black, then another hallway, vaporous at first, and then swimming into contrasting clarity. DG closed her eyes, tried to concentrate on the scenes that had played out on her mind in her sleep.

It was a strange feeling, like one of deja vu; a sense of semblance amidst the normal chaos of her mind. Swinging her head back and forth slowly, as if trying to coax the answer out, she tried not to grasp too hard, tried not to let it slip away. When she opened her eyes, her mother and sister were watching her expectantly. A quick look at the men showed her they were ignoring her, fighting in heated whispers about their next move.

She did what felt natural, what felt right; she bolted. Into the hallway, turning down the way that would lead to the five-way split. She heard both her sister and Cain call out her name, but she didn't stop, if she did, she might lose it, the faint, sepia map in her head. They were all running after her, trying to catch her, to stop her maybe?

When she reached the intersection, she cut straight across, then turned left at the next juncture. Cain called her name in a hoarse whisper again, barely heard over the sound of pounding feet. As Dorothy had shown her, she turned slipped right, down a few stairs, to a narrower corridor. Cain jumped the stairs, and caught her on the arm.

“DG, stop,” he said, and held her firmly in place when she tried to pull away. “Where are you goin'?”

She glared at him impatiently. But when she opened her mouth to tell him that his disbelief was going to get them all caught or killed, a loud alarm cut through the air, blaring out like something out of an old war movie. Somewhere back the way they had came, above the stairs and around a corner, a red light flashed, casting its glow over the steps. Both DG and Cain stared at it, and when their gazes returned to each other, she couldn't believe how calm he looked in light of their new situation.

“Captain, let her be,” The Queen spoke up, and even her demure manner could not cover the agitation in her voice.

“You trusted my instinct to follow Toto, just... okay, you said my dreams can't always mean something. I say you're wrong,” she said, her eyes pleading with him. “I say I know the way.” She pointed back the direction they had come, towards the flashing red lights. “Charge at the main exit, be my guest. I'm going this way.” Reaching up, she gently pried his fingers from her arm, pushing his hand away, though wishing she could entwine their fingers and pull his body close to hers. Instead, she turned on him and left him, knowing that he wouldn't let himself get too far behind.

She walked at a brisk pace now, too unsure to run, scared to make a mistake. It became harder to remember, difficult to pluck the rights and lefts out of the panicked frenzy of her dreams. Concentrate, DG, she told herself. Just a little further. How big can this place possibly be?

Suddenly, their passage ended in a set of massive double doors. Bold letters were painted across the metal, spanning both doors: LOADING DOCK 3.

There was no keypad, no electronic lock. Only a ward lock under the handle, which look liked it required a very large key.

“Az!” DG exclaimed, reaching blindly behind her for her sister. After a moment, she felt her sister's warm grasp. DG held her free hand up to the door, hoping to unlock it, or even blast it right backwards, though the commotion from that would draw more attention... but nothing happened. The door stayed solidly in place, the lock made no sound.

Through the glass in the door, she could see another red light flashing. The sisters tried together, both holding hands aloft, white light glowing from beneath their skin, radiating in an aura above their palms; the windows shattered, and large dents appeared in the fortified metal, the sound of it reverberating off the walls. With a loud pop, the lock broke; DG reached forward and tried the door, and it pulled open freely, the handle rendered useless. She heaved the door open, and held it. Az and her mother passed through, and Jeb Cain stepped forward to take the door from her, to allow her to follow.

The room they entered was cavernous. They were on a scaffolding, overlooking the massive dock; huge slabs of cement laid in the floor, and at the far end of the room, the floor was dirt. Squinting her eyes, she saw the walls on the far end were rock, not manmade, glistening with water. A dark, narrow crevice cut vertically into the rock face, wide enough for one person but not for two, deep and foreboding.

“Thats the way out,” DG said, pointing. “It leads to the surface.”

The noise they made running down the steep, metal staircase to the lower level was deafening, the clattering bouncing off the high walls. The pounding of their feet on the cement followed, then the scrape of their shoes on the dirt as they reached the end of the room. The walls had tapered off, the ceiling twenty feet lower than the loading dock; their trek across had been slowly uphill and they were breathless when they reached the rocks.

“We don't have any light,” Cain muttered, “and I don't like the idea of walkin' blind into that dark hole.” His gun was out of its holster, aimed into the darkness, waiting for something to come pouncing out. Nothing did, but he didn't lower his firearm.

DG grinned. Closing her eyes, a look of contentment crossing over her face, a small buoyant light lifted slowly out of her palm, resting unknown beneath her skin. Cain cocked an eyebrow, shifting his weight slightly as he watched it loll lazily around her head. Beside him, Azkadellia did the same, though her light was a little bigger, a little brighter.

“Good?” DG asked him.

Cain cast a sideways glance at The Queen, who was watching her daughters with a pleased expression on her face. Leading fearlessly, her little light guiding the way for the others, DG entered the cavern, leaving the alarm and the complex behind.

Chapter Twenty-Two

DG was cold, and she was wet, and the tunnel seemed to stretch on forever. She'd expected a ravine, scattered with broken rocks and obstructions to climb over, but when they'd entered, they had found a smooth dirt road to follow, the walls curving upwards above their heads. She did not see how high the ceiling was, if there was one at all; her little light shed enough illumination for them to see about two feet in front of them, and it was slow going.

DG and Azkadellia walked separated, trying to cast as much glow as possible. DG walked with her mother, every so often, like Orpheus, looking over her shoulder to see if the rest still followed; she couldn't see Cain, but she knew he was there, traveling last, constant and ever watchful of what lay behind.

“Mother,” DG whispered, “you knew about my dreams.” It wasn't a question, but a statement.

“Yes, my Angel. Our ears of loyalty stretched far in that place. The servants were very willing to bring me news.”

“The servants told you of my dreams?” DG asked, a little put off by this. If servants in an enemy fortress were spying on her for her mother, then she was going to have to watch her step once they were back safely amongst their own.

“A little kindness, DG, will go a very long way,” her mother said with a smile. “Especially to those who live a life of mistreatment.”

Something else troubled her. She looked quizzically at her mother. “You feel you could trust them? They were slaves, they could have been feeding you whatever the Commander wanted you to hear.”

“No, the Commander would have wanted most fervently for your dreams to be kept secret from me,” The Queen stated simply.

“But why?” DG hated this, the feeling of not knowing what was going on. Her ignorance of life on this side, of magic, and of everything else was an embarrassment, one that she faced constantly. And now, in their current peril, it made her feel very, very vulnerable.

“Darling, your ancestor reaches out to you, to tell you her story, maybe in hopes that it may be helpful to you, which it most certainly was, though her true intents I could never guess. More forces than these outlanders, than our own wills, are at work here, and the Gale is a powerful ally. The most powerful of the Light in our family's history. The very first.” The Queen looked proud in the dim light, and DG almost smiled. She loved watching her mother, her poise under pressure an inspiration... or at least, enough of it to keep her feet moving forward.

She'd removed her shoes a while back, walking briskly now barefoot. They'd run at first, but the tunnel stretched on and on, and what was the point in running? Cain kept their pace fast and steady, so that they might not tire, become overrun and trapped. If they were caught, they would immediately be killed, a massive weight that hung over their heads and hurried their steps.

Ahead of her, Corporal Hass led the way; every time he looked over his shoulder, she could see that he was sweating. “Are you all right, Corporal?” DG asked him, noticing now his agitation more than ever.

He gave a stiff nod. “Yes, Miss. Just not liking this place much, I'll be glad to have it behind me,” he said, his voice sounding strained, troubled. “Don't like a place where I can't really spread my wings safely, if you understand me.”

“It is really spooky,” she said, looking upwards into the unending darkness. The walls, and the unseen ceiling above dripped water onto them constantly, like a light shower on a spring day, only bone-chillingly cold.

When will it end?

They might have been traveling an hour, but none of them had a timepiece to refer to. After a little while longer, Azkadellia called for a break, sitting down unceremoniously on the ground, and taking her boots off her feet. DG sat down beside her immediately, glad her sister had been the one to say “stop” and not her. Their lights swam through the air around them, casting a tiny circle of light which none of the soldiers approached. DG looked up as Cain walked by her, to speak to her mother. Swallowing her tension, the urge to reach out and grab his hand as he passed, she turned to her sister.

“How're you holding up?” she asked Az, who was now rubbing her feet.

Az made a sound in the back of her throat that sounded a bit like “Myeh.”

DG smiled. “Corporal Hass said the air is starting to clear a bit, and we should be out soon.”

“And he would know?” Azkadellia asked, barely paying attention to her sister as she massaged her insole. “I think I'll walk barefoot too, these boots are killing my feet.”

“I don't know how he knows, Az. His senses are probably heightened, the man does turn into a bird of prey when he shifts,” DG said. Such terms were rolling off her tongue easier now, and she considered it a small triumph, a step in the right direction. As much as she didn't want it sometimes, life here went on, as it always did on the Other Side. Such things are universal, though she still didn't quite know where alternate realities fit into the universe.

“They'll be searching the woods for us,” Az pointed out. “They'll know which way we got out, Deeg, we damaged the door enough for it to be obvious.”

“Well then, we'd better be hurryin',” said a voice from above them. DG looked up to see Wyatt Cain standing over them. Holding out his hands, he helped both sisters to their feet, bracing his arms to allow them to steady themselves on him. Az thanked him, and walked away, but he held tight to DG's hand for a moment when she moved to follow her sister.

“Your mother wants to speak with you,” he said softly, letting her go. She nodded, not liking the shadows that cast across his face in the dim light, shadows that darkened his eyes, did not allow her to see the comfort and security that she'd always found there before. She walked towards her mother, the Tin Man following closely behind.

“DG,” The Queen said, pulling her daughter away from the others. While they were illuminated by the light, easy for anyone to see, she kept her voice low. “You need to make a decision about the Emerald.”

The Emerald. She'd forgotten all about it. She slipped her hand into her pocket, caressing its hard, warm surface. It was not smooth, and she found its roughness intriguing. She wanted to pull it out, take a closer and better look at it, but she dared not in the company of the others. The thing would put everyone at unease.

“I don't know what I'm supposed to do with it, Mother,” she said. She expected that her mother would tell her exactly what needed to be done, but The Queen only shook her head, looking sad.

“DG, darling.”

DG wracked her brain. “We can't take it to Finaqua with us,” she said slowly.

Cain spoke up from behind her. “We aren't headin' for Finaqua, we're going to make for Central City.”

DG turned to him. “Why?”

“Finaqua is where they'll be expectin' us to go,” he said. “Central City is better protected. Easier to find, too.”

“Can we take it to Central City?” DG asked, looking inquiringly at her mother. But her mother shook her head. “Well, I would really appreciate it if someone would just tell me what to do, because my next instinct is to chuck it off the first cliff we find.”

Her mother looked appalled, but from behind her, she heard Cain chuckle, a sound which he immediately tried to suppress with a cough.

“Darling,” her mother said, “the Emerald must be returned to the Grey Gale. It is the only place it will be safe from the Outlanders, for it is the only place they would never be able to find it. Outlanders excel in finding the things that others have tried to hide for themselves.”

DG shook her head. “They'd catch us.” Even to her, that much was plainly obvious. She didn't think that an outlander could sit on a horse, but they had an army of well paid human soldiers that would gladly swoop in on horseback and overtake them easily.

“Majesty,” Cain said after a moment. “I think I might have a plan.”

“Oh?” The Queen looked at him, impressed. “Tell me, Captain.”

Cain cleared his throat. “If I'm not mistaken, your husband and your advisor have your entire army out in the forest lookin' for you. If one group heads in the direction of the river and Central City, a second group might just be able to sneak away unnoticed and return the Emerald.”

DG was surprised. Cain's plan fell under the category of 'that's so crazy, it just might work!', and she cast a glance at her mother. The Queen was staring hard at the ground, as if studying the rocks and dirt. After a few very long moments, she sighed, nodding her head.

Cain continued, laying things out more carefully. “We'll dispatch Hass as soon as we reach the surface. It won't take him long to find the AR, and he can lead them straight to your location.”

“And which of your soldiers will accompany DG to return the Emerald? Alone, with only her magic as support.”

DG hadn't realized until that moment that Cain's plan had involved her being the one to wander alone into the wilderness, to hopefully avoid being detected and followed. It would involve being separated from Azkadellia, the person who gave her magic any real strength, or confidence in her own ability.

Time to step up and be a big girl, DG, she thought. She frowned. And none of this in the last month and a half has been considered being a big girl? Give me a break. Please, someone give me a fucking break. Immediately glad her mother couldn't hear her thoughts, she sighed.

She realized then that no one was speaking up, though her mother hadn't asked for a volunteer. DG looked directly at Cain, noticing the way he shook his head slightly, thinking in his own mind, staring at the ground; he didn't know she was watching him. She knew he wouldn't have suggested anything of the sort unless he, himself, had planned on taking action, and her heart swelled with emotion that was completely inappropriate for their situation. There'll be time to swoon later, girl, she told herself. But her pessimistic brain added... Hopefully.

“Cain'll do it, won't you, Cain?” DG said after a moment.

Cain raised his eyes to hers, staring at her, somehow intense and suppressed at the same time. She knew then he was struggling internally with things she shouldn't be pressing, and she felt angry at herself. “I mean -”

“No,” Cain said firmly. “If your mother approves, its our best bet.”

“I don't like the idea of sending my daughter into such danger,” The Queen said, wanting to make her point perfectly clear. “But unless our allies wait outside the exit to this squalid place, or unless we're captured and returned back to the prison, or killed in the fight before we reach the surface, its our only choice.”

Cain nodded, the finality of the gesture giving DG a chill up her spine. Cain called out an order for everyone to get back to walking, and she noticed worry etched into every part of his face. She wished she had words to offer him, wished she could reach out and put a warm hand on his arm, the mere touch enough, but she couldn't. Instead, she swallowed down the unspoken words and unrealized gestures, and walked slowly forward into the unknown.

Down in the slave quarters, the Commander paced slowly before two human guards, who shook on their knees before him, heads bent down in supplication.

“You don't know,” The Commander said, his voice low.

“No sir,” the two men said together.

“Was it the princesses?” The Commander prompted.

One man shook his head vehemently. “We don't know, sir. It... it came from behind.”

The Commander stopped directly in front of the two men. He held his hands behind his back, glaring down at Incompetent and Useless. His men were searching the upper floors at that moment, but he stayed below, his curiosity getting the better of him. The humans prisoners and the Gale women would be found soon enough, this he would deal with now.

“Tell me again what you remember.”

Incompetent cringed at the threatening edge in his commander's voice. “We were doing our rounds. Waiting for the old caretaker to come with the meals for the prisoners.”

The Commander nodded, still bearing down on his grunts. Incompetent continued, his voice wavering. “I heard a... a... a commotion. I went to check it out, and found him laying on the floor, knocked out.” He nodded at Useless, who cowered lower at his own mention.

“Who hit you?” the Outlander asked the second man.

Useless shook his head. “Don't know, sir. Hit me from behind, on the head.”

“One blow?”

Useless nodded. He didn't dare a look up at his commanding officer, but he felt like his head was pressed to the chopping block, and the axeman stood in front of him. His life was on the line, and there was nothing he could do to save himself, if it was decided that he was to die.

“I was running to the guard room,” Incompetent spoke up. “I was going to call for back up, but...”

“But you were struck, as well.” The Commanders voice sounded bored and unimpressed with the entire situation. “And when you woke up, the prisoners were gone and the weapons locker was ransacked.”

The two men nodded in unison.

The Commander hauled the two men to their feet by the collars like chastised children. Setting them roughly on their feet, he stalked away, barking a hash command for them to follow. Only a few paces down the hallway, near the door to the stairwell, he stopped. The cement wall was singed with ash. The Commander rubbed his fingers along it, the scrape sending shivers down their soft, human spines. The Commander's fingers left clean trails in the black soot.

“Physical blows,” the Commander said slowly. “And yet, here is evidence that the Princesses were here, and that they used their magic.”

There were no words. The entire situation made no sense. The unconscious bodies of the two men were the only ones found in the hallway. This damning evidence bode very badly for their situation; Incompetent began reciting all the prayers he could remember from his childhood, preparing to die.

But death did not come. “Someone,” The Commander said slowly, “took you two out and released the prisoners. Who the princesses met when they came down here, I couldn't fathom. But what I do know is that you two thin-skulled humans will return to my domains where you will work in the ruby mines until you drop dead from exhaustion. Or maybe you'll work until you're old men and your flesh falls from your bones.”

With a snap of his fingers, two well-armed, well-favored human guards stepped forward out of the small command room. Useless and Incompetent were seized around the arms.

“Take these two down to the dungeons,” The Commander said dismissively. “Lets see if we forget them when we abandon the base.”

The two men were hauled away without much fuss. The Commander stood for a while, studying the scorch mark on the wall. This baffled him, like finding a puzzle piece mixed up in the wrong box. He was about to call for someone to fetch this floor's caretaker when the door behind him swung open, and he was faced with a breathless guard.

“Sir!”

The Commander nodded at the young man. “What is it now?”

The human looked fearful. “Sir, The Queen has been removed from her chambers, her guard subdued just as the ones in this cell block.”

The Commander nodded. So the two stupid humans would have another person to share their misery with. The mines were always in need of strong bodies, and the capture of slaves was a slow and dribbling income. The news about the monarch, surprisingly, did not disturb him in the least.

But the human guard was lingering, trying to spit out his next bit of news. “What is it?” the Outlander demanded coldly.

“Sir, the security log reads that your security card was used to gain access to the first level.”

This news was a little more disturbing. “Lock down the first level. I don't want anyone going in or out.”

The human guard swallowed hard. “Well... actually, sir...”

Chapter Twenty Three

They were entering their second hour in the tunnel. Cain rushed them, pushing the women until DG complained, but there was no way he could let them slow down. The alarms had been sounding when they'd found their way out, though how long until the Commander's forces found how they'd escaped.

“Father,” Jeb said in a low whisper, falling back a few steps to walk with his father. Azkadellia was ahead of them, though far enough that they were in the darkness beyond the illumination of her wisp.

“What is it?” Wyatt asked, not looking at his son. What was the point? The only things they could see were the glowing beacons that were Azkadellia, and a little farther off, DG.

“Can I speak... uh, bluntly, sir?”

Cain smirked. “'Course you can. You're my son.”

Beside him, he heard Jeb sigh, as if the boy were weighing his words carefully. “Well then... I don't think the plan you came up with is such a good idea.”

“Oh? Why's that.”

Jeb was silent again, as he continued to think of best how to put his opinions to his father. Cain shook his head, impatient. “State your case quick, Kid, and get it over with, 'cause there isn't much you're gonna be sayin' to change my mind.”

Jeb considered this. He remembered his mother had chastened his father on many occasions in his childhood. You're a stubborn jackass, Wyatt Cain. She'd called those exact words out after him, the day he'd gone to meet the Longcoats on the road to their home.  That last day...

He tried to keep his voice low, to stop the echo that might follow. “I just think its a little... um, stupid to take DG out there alone. At least take another of our men with you,” he carefully suggested.

Beside him, his father sounded exasperated, the man who had gone over every option and had wheedled it down until only this one remained. Their best and worst plan. “No, the other men will be busy gettin' The Queen and the Princess Royal back to Central City. They need to be safe within the city walls, that's our first priority.”

“There are too many flaws in this plan,” Jeb pointed out.

Cain rolled his eyes. “Name one.”

“You could be caught by the enemy. We could be caught by the enemy. You and DG could get lost.”

From ahead of them, Azkadellia stopped walking, so that after a few strides, the Cains had caught up to her. “DG won't get lost.”

Jeb was skeptical. “There's no guarantee of that. The second we come out of here, we're all going to be lost. We have no idea where this tunnel comes out.”

“The Emerald will lead DG back to the Grey Gale,” Azkadellia said with a great deal of assuredness in her voice. “The Captain will have his work cut out for him just to keep up with her. She'll have an easier time than we will, even if we do find the river.”

Azkadellia turned away from the men and walked away. The group was heading steadily uphill now, and after a few more minutes, one of the men in front called out for the group to stop.

Cain walked through the bodies milling around, to the soldier who'd given the order. But when he reached the front of the group, he saw exactly why without having to ask the question. They'd reached the end of the tunnel. It ended abruptly, the walls meeting in a circular room. A ladder was secured into the wall.

“Onwards and upwards?” DG asked from behind him.

Cain studied the ladder, heaved on it a few times, but it stayed fast in place. “I'm gonna head up.”

“Wait, Captain,” Azkadellia said. She turned to face him, holding her palm flat out in front of her. The little light slowly sank down until it hovered an inch above her skin. Azkadellia blew softly on the wisp, like one would blow on a bubble that had caught on a fingertip.  The light moved to Cain.

Cain nodded, and eyed the little light suspiciously. It floated in lazy circles around his head. He didn't like it... magic, by and large, wasn't something he really cared to be close to. But though they'd grabbed a rucksack to carry what supplies they'd been able to gather, he didn't know how he would climb a ladder holding a lantern aloft. This was a perfect solution. Cain gripped the ladder firmly, and ascended. Twenty feet... thirty... the little wisp bouncing ahead of him, lighting where to next put his hands. The thing was annoying, distracting, and when it swam away behind him on its lethargic rounds, he was left seeing spots. He'd be glad to be rid of it as soon as possible.

A few feet from the top, the fresh air hit him hard and the unexpected burst of it nearly made him dizzy. He hauled himself up by iron handrails, onto a hard-packed dirt surface. It was still black, but a few feet onward, the darkness fogged into a hazy twilight. The shadows of trees that hid the entrance to the cavern blew in a breeze, the sound of the branches scraping, leaves rustling; it put an ache in his heart.

Without hesitation, though a little regretfully, he descended the ladder once again There was too much distance between him and the others for them to hear him unless he shouted, and he didn't want to be attracting that kind of attention, if indeed there might be danger lurking.

Despite any danger, however, when he jumped the last few feet and landed before his company, he was smiling.

“Go,” he said with a nod towards his soldiers. One by one, they all ascended. “Don't let that fresh air get to your heads. Wait at the top, near the walls. Don't touch anythin'.”

DG, still waiting on the ground, looked at him curiously. “Why 'don't touch anything'?”

Cain was watching the others climbing slowly into the darkness. Azkadellia's wisp, which had returned to its master, was barely a pin prick of light high above. “The less that gets disturbed, the better.” He watched as Corporal Hass took to the ladder, leaving Cain and DG alone in the tunnel; when he was halfway up, Cain gave DG's sleeve a little tug, grabbing her attention.

“Your turn, Princess.”

She tried to smile at him, but she couldn't hide her nervousness at the ascension placed before her. “Don't look up my dress,” she said firmly, poking him square in the chest. Cain gave a breathy chuckle, not looking in the slightest offended. Her hands shaking, palms sweating, DG grabbed onto the ladder. She felt his hands on her hips, the weight of them heavy, comforting. He guided her first few steps.

“You okay?” he asked her, still holding on, looking up at her. She nodded, managed a real smile, and turned her attention back to the ladder and the climb. He released her as she rose out of his grasp, watching as each little shoe found the next rung. When she'd made it halfway, he hurried up behind her, glad to be out of the ground.

At the top, in the small cavern, it was cramped. The Queen immediately sought him out.

“Captain, I would like a moment alone with my daughter.”

Cain only nodded, and with a whistle to grab their attention, he led his troops out of the small cavern. Fighting through the thick stand of trees guarding the entrance to the cave was difficult, and his arms bore a few scratches when he was out in the clear. He could hear the others stumbling and cursing, breathing deep and eyes turning skyward as soon as they could. Knowing there was no time to moon over the breeze and the wet smell of leaves - though, Gods, it was invigorating - he set about taking the pack from Burrows, and began to divide the supplies.

“Hass,” he said without looking up. “Find us the direction of the river.”

“Yes, sir!” came the reply, and moments later he heard the sound of wings beating the air.

Azkadellia knelt beside him then, shedding her light for him to see better his task. “Captain,” she said slowly. “Are you prepared to follow her wherever she might lead you?”

Cain didn't respond, not knowing quite what to say... of course he was prepared to follow her, it wasn't even a question. Begrudgingly, he'd followed her north, rescued her and chased after her as she had sought out her trail of memories. To follow her now was only second nature... there wasn't anyone else he was quite ready to trust with the task.

“Mister Cain,” Azkadellia said, lowering her voice. She reached out and stilled his hand over the buckle of the rucksack. He looked up at her expectantly, impatient. Immediately, she retracted her hand. “Listen. She's going to sound crazy out there. Your instinct might even tell you she's going the wrong way. She won't be, and you need to trust in that.”

Cain sighed. “Azkadellia.” The name came out of his mouth forced, short. “You have nothin' to worry about. We'll get it done quick, easy, and we'll meet you in Central City.”

Azkadellia shook her head and stood. “I wish you luck, Captain.”

A few feet away, Cain could hear DG extracting herself from the tangle of brush and branches with a loud grumble. His ears keened to the sound of her inhaling deeply the wide open space around them. He imagined her arms stretched, head tilted back, and in his minds eye, she was smiling. The darkness was thickening, and he guessed the time to be near nine in the evening.

A black shape dove down from above, landed a few feet near him. The shape grew into a man, and spoke. “Sir, the river is to the southeast. About thirty minutes walk.” Hass pointed through the ghostly half-light. All around them, the trees stood sparse, and would make travel easy... for now. He was antsy to get moving, and stepped up to the side of the monarch, who was still whispering with her daughter.

“Everything will be fine, Mother,” he heard DG say, but when she saw him approach, she silenced. The rustle of fabric followed as the two women embraced, then separated.

“Captain, you will send the corporal now. His orders are to find trustful allies, to inform them of our plight.” Though Cain could not see the features of her face, he saw her head nod at her own decision. “Yes,” she said after, reaffirming her orders. The Queen's calm composure was returning, and she put his worries at ease.

“If you follow the river until mornin', my men know the countryside well enough that one of them will know where exactly you are,” Cain explained to her. “You'll probably cut across country; Jeb will keep everyone off the road. We don't want to draw any unnecessary attention.”

The Queen nodded again, breathing deeply. “There will be an escort waiting on the ridge to accompany the princess and yourself to Central City,” she said confidently. He hated it - hated it - when people spoke so hopefully of the future, making promises of things that weren't yet a sure thing. But he only thanked her, turned away, and tracked down his son.

“You need to get a move on,” he said.

“Well then, meet you in the city,” Jeb said. He did not embrace his father, only nodded with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and turned to walk away.

“Hey,” Cain hissed after him. Jeb stopped, pivoted to stand at lazy attention, and though the shadows fell across his son's face, Cain could swear he heard the kid smirk. “Keep a close eye on Azkadellia,” Cain told him. “She's bound to attract just as much trouble as the other one.”

Jeb laughed, nodded, as if taking his father's advice into careful consideration. He called an order to the other soldiers, and moved to the side of Azkadellia, who was talking in hushed tones to her sister. Jeb leaned over, whispered something to Az, and with a little cry, the older sister embraced the younger, before turning determinedly on her heel, following behind Jeb. The others fell into step, and at a quick pace, they were enveloped by the darkness and disappeared.

Cain listened until the stir of the group moving through the brush and trees died away. He heard DG drifting towards him, dead leaves crackling softly under her bare feet. “Hass is waiting for you,” she said quietly. She watched as Cain walked over to the last soldier, gave him his orders, and with a contorted 'whoosh', the corporal shifted. The small shadow took off, and though she tried to keep her eyes trained on him, she lost him in the darkness.

Cain walked slowly over to her. A breeze lifted her hair away from her face, cold breath that gave her goosebumps. She was suddenly aware that they were dreadfully, palpably alone.

The falcon's cry, lonely and shrill, cut through the air. Oh God... Gods?... how had it come down to this?

“We have to move fast, DG. So which way?” he asked her after a moment. His deep voice rumbled through her, familiar and comforting.

She turned toward the silhouette next to her that could have been someone else, for all she knew, if not for that voice. She didn't like the dark, and even with the breeze, the sound of the trees, the feel of nature under her feet, she didn't feel any better than she had underground. In fact, if it were possible, she felt worse.

Cain cleared his throat, and she realized that he was waiting for an answer. Right, back to work. Can't stand around. “Um,” she said slowly. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the weight of the Emerald in her pocket, as tiny and barely there as the thing was.

She tried to remember what her mother had told her in the cave, after the others had left them alone. “The Gale was chosen long ago as its Guardian. This back and forth handing over pales in comparison to being marked by the Emerald. Use your Light, darling, and listen to your heart. Try now.”

DG had felt a little silly, trying to feel the connection between Dorothy Gale's spirit and the stone in her pocket. But after a few minutes, a curious thing had happened. It was like... hearing music, drifting in from far away, words and tunes lost into just a simple hum of noise, rising and falling like breathing. She had cocked her head, trying to better hear. Lazily, her wisp was floating circles around her head, and in its glow, she could see her mother, a brilliant smile on her beautiful face.

“Can you hear it?” her mother had asked.

DG nodded slowly, and when she lost her focus, her wisp dissipated, tossing the two women into darkness. “But what does it mean?”

“The Light will always cohere you to this connection as long as you hold the Emerald,” her mother had said. DG's brow had furrowed, her mouth quirked in a displeased little frown. She's making it sound like I'm borrowing a neighbor's Internet or cable.

Concentrating now, as she had then, she heard it, like static. How will I know which way to go? Why didn't I ask Mother? She turned in a slow circle, until the faint whisper became a low murmur; though she could barely discern why it sounded any different... she just knew it was.

“There won't be any time to doubt yourself,” Az had told her, before Jeb had led her away. “Just trust.”

So she did. DG opened her eyes, and raised her arm. She pointed in a direction... whatever direction it was, her best guess was maybe south. “That way... ish.”

Cain sounded unimpressed with her answer. “'-ish'?”

She shrugged, even though she knew he couldn't see her. She put the too-small slippers back on her feet, heaved a deep sigh, and started walking, trying not to stumble too much on the unfamiliar terrain. As he always had, Cain walked a few steps behind, ever vigilant, ever constant, ever there.

His plans were unraveling fast.

“How is this possible?” he asked. Cowering around him, his men said nothing.

Five loading docks, in different areas of the first level. Locks smashed, windows broken, dented inwards by incredible force on every... single... door.

Lt. Shore was standing before him, examining the damage on the door to Dock 4, his ears glad the Commander had given the order to silence the alarm. The outlander knelt down on the floor, picking up small pieces of glass in his rough hand. “Sir, I think you should take a look at this.”

The Commander looked towards his lieutenant. “What?” he demanded sharply.

“This glass was smashed with a blunt object. Look at the size of these shards.”

The Commander held out his hand, and his soldier dumped the glass into his hand. Studying them, finding nothing of interest, he dropped them dismissively onto the floor. “What of it, Shore?” He was growing painfully impatient of the entire situation. “I want parties dispatched out of every dock to the surface. We must overtake them soon or it isn't going to happen at all.”

“But sir, just look for a moment,” Shore said adamantly. He needed to redeem himself fast, or it'd be a firing squad when they returned back over the mountains. The evidence he was trying to present just might be enough to save his neck. “The glass on Loading Dock 3 was disintegrated like it had exploded from within. And look sir, the dents on this door are smaller than those on Dock 3.”

The Commander looked at the door intently. Then he shook his head, laughing at his own stupidity. Lt. Shore shifted uncomfortably. “Clever, clever,” the commanding officer said after another moment of his cold, grating laugh. His voice was a low grumble. “Send a raiding party upstairs to the entrance of Dock 3.”

Lt. Shore nodded, and rushed away to deliver his master's orders. After the second outlander had departed, The Commander turned back to the damaged set of doors, shaking his head in disbelief. A heavy object, one of the tools used by maintenance workers, perhaps, could have made such dents if wielded by a human hand. So they had a traitor in their midst... but that could be dealt with soon enough.

The clock was ticking to recover the Emerald, and despite his promises to the little princess about the lengths of his patience, he found himself growing very, very impatient...

He knew, without a doubt, that if the prisoners made it to freedom, they would make for their Shining City, their beacon on the hill. To intercept them would be no small feat. They had until the dawn, darkness their only ally.

Perhaps the little witches didn't think he'd chase them upstairs, into the light of their double suns. But the light would not save them. They underestimated the lengths that he would be willing to go to regain the treasure of his family, the broken pride of his grandfather.

Time was wasting.

Table of Contents:

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