Chapter 17

Chapter 17

          Sloane was continuing to try to comprehend what he had seen the day before. Rafe had assured him the next morning that Hoka was alive, but he did not add on that he was well. Alive was a relative statement in the grand scheme of things. Sloane hated thinking about anything that ran deeper than superficial, but it had been all that was on his mind since he had seen the horror of it all.

          Jacen and Sloane were mostly being ostracized, with Reginald throwing out some moderate insults every change he came close to them. With them all in the mess hall for dinner, Sloane and Jacen had been left with nowhere to sit. The two were standing against a wall eating. They had sure given the guys fuel for the fire of hating the already special, gifted gentlemen who had joined their ranks.

          A soldier came racing through the doors and leaned down and whispered something to the first person sitting at a table. The cafeteria area feel quiet as the whispering continued like one huge game of telephone, with only Sloane and Jacen being left in the dark. Except it never went quite that far as people were standing out and rushing out of the mess hall. They were not escaping anything, it was more like an anxiety to see something.

          Sloane and Jacen exchanged a look before deciding it was best just to follow and see what was going on. Many other people seemed to have figured the same thing.

          Soon 400 young men, give or take, were heading outside at once. Sloane had an advantage being taller than most of the other soldiers, but he was not a head taller than everyone and was having a hard time finding what was so interesting. Once he saw it he knew. It was honestly hard to miss. There was a carriage sitting in the open area between all of the barracks. The carriage was surrounded by motorbikes, things that Sloane had heard about but never actually seen before. They were only used in the capital as far as he knew, or in back trails. Motorbikes were said to be dangerous but they looked steady so he wondered if it was the speed.

          Shaking his head to try to concentrate he looked back to the center carriage where light green flags with a blue and yellow eye, an all knowing, all seeing eye, sat at the center of the flags. Those flags were the flags of the country. In stark contrast, swishing in the wind right below them, were black flags with a small purple insignia design, Bastian’s design. The president was in that carriage.

          With all of the grandeur that only someone of his caliber could muster, the president’s carriage door opened and he slide out smoothly. He was not particularly tall, but he was regal, with silver-white hair and a face that had not aged in all of his years. Sloane had never seen him, despite Bastian Gentile being the president of the country as long as he had been alive, but he would be hard to miss. He was dressed in a black suit with a purple undershirt and a lighter purple tie. In his gloved hands he held a purple and black cane that was engraved with silver circling around it. He did not look like he needed the cane to walk and it was likely simply for show, or something else Sloane did not want to question.

          Rafe and three other officials pushed through the crowd to greet the president. The other three officials shook Bastian’s hand, but Rafe and Bastian simply bowed at one another. Jacen had taught him years ago that their culture believed in bowing in greeting, but Jacen had been raised in their country and often just sucked it up and let people hug him and shake his hand. Was Bastian being calculating, or was he simply respectful of another culture?

          Sloane did not know Bastian at all other than the propaganda that was spread through the government, but after seeing Hoka and what Bastian’s experiments did to someone, he believed everything that man did was calculating. Even in the way he smiled, changing the smile to accommodate each officer he faced. It was Rafe he pulled away from the crowd, though, all the while greeting and shaking hands with the soldiers. Bastian’s eyes fell on Sloane and Jacen, and he just knew, Sloane could see it through his face, who they were.

          Bastian stopped shaking hands and walked up to them, which was not going to help with the ostracizing from their fellow soldiers. Bastian held out his hand to each of them, and being unable to refuse the president, Sloane and Jacen both shook his hands, even while Rafe winced slightly behind Bastian’s shoulder.

          “I’ve heard much about you two, Sloane and Jacen,” he said. “Including your little stunt that had you outside of the barracks all night, Sloane.” Bastian met Sloane’s eyes and he saw it, a flash of white lightning in the blue eyes that told Sloane Bastian knew far more than he would say.

          “I missed the women on the outside already,” Sloane told the president. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir.”

          “Our women in the barracks aren’t enough for you?” Bastian asked.

          Sloane was sure there was a particular answer Bastian was looking for and he refused to give it to him. “They are too respectful for my taste, Sir.”

          “So you prefer women of ill repute,” Bastian said.

          Sloane was about to answer, “Of course,” but stopped himself. Bastian was baiting him. Bastian was asking Sloane about one woman in particular, and if he said that Ellie was of ill repute then Bastian would have more reason to dislike her, and less reason to keep her alive.

          “I prefer a woman who prefers me,” Sloane said instead. It was the best answer he could come up with that was insulting to no one.

          “Smart,” Bastian said. “I thought I would come and see our new recruits in action, Dr. Meridion has said how miraculous the two of you are. It sounds like the two of you have no side effects on your gifts, which is rare.”

          Sloane had never thought about that before. Rhapsody had always been sick after using her gifts to heal, without fail, though the degree depended on what she had done. David had the same side effect as far as Sloane knew, though David mostly had sequestered himself, making it harder to ask him to heal someone than it was for Rhapsody to be asked. Did the priestess at the temple have a side effect that he was unaware of? Did Rafe and Bastian for that matter? These were questions he could not possible dream of asking at that particular moment but that were stored for later.

          “I’m not sure what the side effect of aiming would be,” Sloane admitted. “Not being able to aim?”

          “I have a side effect,” Jacen cut in. Bastian looked at him in surprise. “Once the fire is cut off from me it burns me.”

          Bastian’s eyes widened. Sloane’s eyes narrowed. What was Jacen doing? Never tell a madman a weakness like that. Sloane was sure the president would be in a hurry to try it out after this and Jacen would spend another day burning, like Hoka.

          “Well, that is fascinating,” Bastian said. “Why don’t the two of you show me what you can do. I’m sure the people who are following us around would love to see a demonstration. Maybe if they know what the two of you can do they will show you the respect you deserve.”

          He had put every single one of the soldiers in their place with a few simple words and a glance back. Bastian continued, his back straight, “Anyone with a gift is a special guest of the president, and someone I look forward to working with for a long time.” Bastian turned back to Sloane and Jacen and said, “Just do not betray me.”

          Sloane and Jacen did not change their facial expressions. Even Rafe stood stoic, but Sloane had to wonder if his stomach was doing the same flip flops his was. Rafe stepped ahead of them and lead them all to the shooting range, the best place to show off Sloane’s skills. Bastian followed, as did a couple of hundred other soldiers. Most of the soldiers looked as if they were going to decline watching the show, and it seemed they were frightened as well. What they were most frightened of at that moment was questionable, but they were probably correct to be frightened.

          Rafe handed Sloane the sling shot with the colored pellets. Sloane rolled his eyes at something so childish, but pastel pinks, yellows, greens, and blues lit up the targets. Rafe even showed off, turning his back and shooting the pellet at his friend while wanting to hit the center of a moving target behind him. Bastian seemed fascinated by it all.

          “Give him a real weapon, Rafe,” Bastian demanded.

          Rafe pulled out a revolver, Sloane’s revolver, and handed it to him. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he told him.

          Sloane was always stupid, but if he thought he was going to try to shoot the president he need not worry. Sloane shot through the clouds of pastel into the target, hitting the bulls eye dead center every time.

          Someone ran through, changing out the targets that were littered with color and holes. He was moving fast, afraid to be out there in the open it would seem.

          Bastian turned to Jacen and said, “I hear you have to touch something for it to set on fire.”

          “Yes, sir,” Jacen said.

          “Set the targets on fire,” Bastian said. “See if Sloane can hit the center while his target burns away.”

          Jacen stepped over to each target and lit it up. He tried to do a light fire, something that would consume at a slower burn. For the last target he started closer to the center. Rafe was changing the bullets over in the revolver while Jacen moved.

          “Now shoot,” Bastian told Sloane.

          Sloane held up the revolver, his arm feeling weaker than it had before. Despite the obstacles and training, it had not been long enough for him to have grown used to having to shoot his gun that many times. He was also nervous and felt the sweat on his palm like a teenager talking to a girl for the first time.

          Still, he shot at the targets, even as the targets burned away and the bullseye on the one was almost ash. He shot and hit the bullseye every time.

          Bastian asked for one of the targets and someone handed him the large paper that would cover the target hanger. He tore the bullseye off of it and threw it. “Hit it,” he told Sloane.

          Sloane shot without hesitation and the bullet tore through the floating paper. He was growing annoyed with the test; he had already done this before for the doctors. He was wondering what Bastian was truly doing out here, because he did not believe it was simply a test for him.

          “Very good,” Bastian said, impressed. “I guess we can all forgive you sneaking out of the barracks the other night then. To see Eleanore, I presume.”

          Sloane debated lying, but he knew he was caught and lying might end with him on a table having all of his blood drawn. “Yes,” he said.

          “So you know where she is,” Bastian said.

          “No,” Sloane said. “I do not know where she is right now. I know where she was then.”

          Bastian smirked and looked around. The soldiers who had been watching could not hear the conversation, but Jacen and Rafe could. “I feel like I am being betrayed,” Bastian admitted. “You see, I also know that General Yoakim here,” he pointed at Rafe, “also left the area that night. And while he’s free to leave as he wishes, it’s a coincidence, don’t you think? I send a man to look for your friend and you and Rafe both leave the barracks the same night. Everyone is going through a lot to keep this girl out of the capital, which bothers me. Why would you think you need to hide someone from me?”

          “As far as I know, she’s not hiding,” Sloane said. “She simply believed she was not wanted in the capital, and she went home.”

          Wrong answer, and Sloane knew it.

          “Oh? She’s at home?” There was something Sloane did not know, or Rafe or Jacen, because both looked as perplexed as he felt. “Because it’s my understanding her home is gone.”

          “Gone?” Sloane asked. “What do you mean?”

          “I mean, her home was burned to the ground,” Bastian said, “so where she is staying is not at her home. You did not visit her at her home. My man came back and told me she had not been found, and yet here you are telling me you saw her, but where you said you saw her is impossible. Rafe, tell me now, why is this girl so hard to get a handle on? I sent Loqi after her and he still hasn’t returned either.”

          “Loqi?” Rafe asked. “You sent Loqi after her?” He sounded appalled.

          “If the girl does not make an appearance in front of me in the next 24 hours, I will kill her sister,” Bastian said, taking off his gloves and placing them in the pocket of his suit coat.

          “I think that might be going too far,” Rafe said.

          “It feels, to me, that someone is lying to me,” Bastian stated. He held his cane up in his hand, tightening his pale grip, his knuckles going from pale, to pink, to paler than before. It was the only outward indication that he was angry. “When this many people are trying to keep something from me, it makes me understand I need it more than I thought I did. So, Rafe, Sloane, Jacen, which one of you is going to give me what I want?”

          “Sir,” Rafe started.

          Bastian waved him off. “I already know it’s not going to be you, Rafe. You have made that clear. Including you was more of a courtesy. It’s also a warning to you that I know you have betrayed me. I just do not know how deep that betrayal runs.”

          Bastian took the revolver from Sloane and shook bullets out of his cane. He filled the revolver with the bullets and handed it back to Sloane. “Shoot the man who betrayed me,” he told Sloane. “No matter what he does, your aim will be true.”

          “I can’t,” Sloane said honestly.

          “Pull the trigger and shoot him,” Bastian demanded.

          Sloane shrugged and held the gun out, shooting the bullet free. To everyone’s amazement the bullet spun in the air, going nowhere. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and Sloane knew he had been expecting to be shot. There had been a reason Bastian had worded his order the way he did. While Bastian could not control the minds of people, he was persuasive, and so Sloane had aimed for the person who betrayed him. What Bastian did not know is Sloane did, in fact, have a weakness, but unlike Jacen he had never told anyone about it.

          He would still not reveal that weakness. “No one betrayed you,” Sloane said. “I went with David to find Ellie, and had no luck, so I ditched him and went to get drunk. Rafe heard I left and came to get me. He dragged me back. He didn’t tell anyone I left, or what I was up to. No one betrayed you, I am just weak. David came back empty handed because he was worried about what happened to me.”

          Bastian held up the end of his cane and reached it out to touch the bullet, pushing on the twirling thing that had nowhere to go. His striking it caused it to move, shooting straight ahead and towards the target. This was the one time it did not hit a bullseye.

          “I am so relieved by this story,” Bastian said, slowly sliding his gloves back on his hands. “I am relieved to know, Rafe, you are still on my side. I had heard you had forbade young Sloane from leaving, but I see now it was not a lack of help for me, it was knowing that the man before us is weak willed.”

          Bastian reached out his gloved hand who took it, allowing the president to shake his hand. “That does not make you a bad person,” Bastian explained to him. “I am sure Rafe will make you a stronger person before your time with him is through. He does it for all of my men. I apologize for the scare.”

          He turned to the soldiers who were still watching, far enough away to see but not close enough to hear a word that had passed from one man to the next. “Thank you for indulging me my curiosities,” he said loudly, for everyone to see. “It seems my time here is through, though. Rafe, why don’t you walk me back to my carriage?”

          When they were out of sight the soldiers forgot that Sloane and Jacen existed. They were more interested in seeing the president leave, and seeing if they could hear what he would say to Rafe. Sloane had confidence that Rafe would tell them what was said upon his return. Sloane and Jacen hung back at the target range, Sloane with his revolver still in his hand. He felt along the white handle, one of the only gifts his father had ever given him. The odd ridges along the sides were actually engraved names, his father’s, his mother’s, and his own. Where his father’s name is, or was, he had filed it down to make it look more like a wave. It had been an act of rebellion his father had never noticed.

          Something in Sloane’s world shifted. He felt the world shake under him while nothing happened, and Jacen did not seem to notice. Sloane looked about and found the reason his world had tremored. In the sunlight there was a man standing there who looked as if he did not belong, but Sloane could not focus on him. He was coming forward, taking shape as he did, until Sloane actually recognized him. It was not until Sloane recognized him that Jacen was able to sense him as well, turning and facing him.

          Loqi’s right shoulder was bleeding, the blood staining the black fabric. “You shot me,” Loqi snapped.

          Sloane thought about when the bullet went wild after Bastian pushed it and asked, “Why would you be standing behind a target?”

          “No, you daft dolt,” Loqi snapped. “He told you to shoot who betrayed him. You shot me.”

          “But the bullet-“

          “Did exactly what I wanted you to see it did,” Loqi snapped. “Now find Rafe so I can get this damned bullet out of my shoulder.”

          Loqi disappeared again from view, but the blood was still there, pooling at the ground. Jacen offered to stay with Loqi while Sloane went to find Rafe. He found him surrounded by other soldiers who wanted to discuss the president’s visit with him. Sloane moved forward and said, “I’m sorry to bother you, General, but I need your help.”

          Rafe made an excuse and left the other soldiers, going back to the target practice where Loqi was now clearly visible and sitting in a chair with Jacen trying to staunch the bleeding.

          “Loqi,” Rafe said, “you need to stay coherent because you need to keep up the illusion that we are not here right now. What the Hell were you doing back there? And why did you get shot?”

          “You know, you are asking a lot of a man who is bleeding on what was once a pristine uniform,” Loqi said.

          “You can make quips, you aren’t doing too badly yet, now answer the questions.” Rafe took out a knife he had in his belt and began cutting away the material. “If you saw a healer this wouldn’t scar.”

          “Most of the healers hate me right now,” Loqi said. “Sloane was told to shoot the person who betrayed Bastian. Unfortunately, I am the person who betrayed him.”

          “I was aiming for myself,” Sloane snapped.

          “I know,” Loqi said, “except you didn’t account for me being there, and that’s why Rafe thinks you need more training. You only account for what you know is there.”

          “You betrayed Bastian?” Rafe asked, revealing the gunshot wound. Rafe turned to Jacen and said, “When I tell you, I’m going to need you to heat up this blade so I can cauterize the wound.” Jacen nodded as answer.

          “I have decided to join your rebellion, Rafe,” Loqi said. “I was coming to see if I could use mind manipulation on Bastian.”

          “You don’t have mind manipulation,” Rafe said.

          “I borrowed it from a friend. Fuck, that hurt.” The bullet came out of Loqi’s shoulder and landed on the ground at their feet.

          “Now Jacen,” Rafe told him. Jacen put his hands on the blade until it was red hot. Rafe smacked the flat of it down on Loqi’s shoulder and Loqi let out a scream of anguish and Sloane wondered if for a moment the illusion broke, if anyone had heard the scream. It was hard to tell from inside the illusion bubble.

          “You wanted that to hurt,” Loqi hissed at Rafe.

          “A bit,” Rafe admitted. “Does Eleanore know you stole some of her gift?”

          “I only stole enough to make her tired,” Loqi said. “For the record, it didn’t work, or I wouldn’t have been shot.”

          “She’s a baby, of course it didn’t work,” Rafe snapped.

          “What did you do to Ellie?” Sloane was suddenly asking, reaching over to push his fingers into Loqi’s shoulder.

          Loqi reached down for the knife, ready to slice Sloane open, but Rafe slid between the two of them. “No fighting like children,” Rafe snapped. “Loqi can borrow the powers of others, but there’s a side effect to the people he borrows it from. And the time is limited. If you left Eleanore where I think you did, it’s a 4 hour travel time, you had to borrow enough to get from there, to here, and to sneak around without being seen.”

          “I took hours siphoning it,” Loqi promised.

          “What is going on?” Sloane asked, frustrated at the conversation the two were having without him or Jacen.

          “Loqi just betrayed Bastian by joining with your friend in the rebellion,” Rafe explained to Sloane as if he were slow. “He borrowed Eleanore’s gift from her to try to manipulate the president. You shot him while he was using his illusion to hide himself and he used the illusion to make you see what was actually supposed to happen, because you were aiming at yourself. Except you can’t shoot yourself. Where Jacen can burn himself with his flames if he separates from them, you can never aim for yourself, which is something you know, I don’t want to know how you know that.”

          “How did you know that, though?” Sloane asked.

          “It was a guess,” Rafe said. “I supposed I am right. Loqi, how are you feeling?”

          “Just splendid,” Loqi lied. “I feel like I could run a mile. This was exactly how I saw my day going. I love bloodshed. Wait, that part is true. I love other people’s bloodshed. I know someone I would like to spill the blood of right now.” Loqi glared at Sloane. Sloane glared back.

          “Enough, you two,” Rafe snapped. “Let’s get Loqi somewhere he won’t be seen before he passes out and can’t hold the illusion any longer.”

          “I hoped it would work,” Loqi said.

          “I know,” Rafe explained. “Come on, we’re going to my house. Sloane, Jacen, you two are coming as well.”

          Sloane and Jacen followed, though Sloane was not excited. In fact, he really wanted to pull his revolver out again and shoot Loqi. He brushed off his dislike to the moment when Loqi made him think that he had shot two of his best friends. He knew there was more to it, though. That was something to be mulled over when he had time to think, not when they had to rush him from the barracks and to Rafe’s home without being seen.