Jabberwocky - 17. Hostile Territory

XVII. Hostile Territory

Brandon’s breath constricted in his chest as he tried to fight down the swell of immediate panic. His mind was battered and overwhelmed by another situation that had been frighteningly familiar—Jordan unconscious and unresponsive, the bitter betrayal of a female friend, and the cloying sense of helplessness.

“Don’t panic Brandon. I don’t mean any harm,” Sumna said, her voice as soft and deceptively gentle as it had always been. “Jassa and Jordan will both wake up in half a cycle.”

Roughly thirty minutes Earth time, Brandon thought. Earth time and Charion time were similar enough to suit Brandon’s purposes and he had heard Sumna use this terminology before.

“Why?” he choked out, moving slightly so that he was positioned between Sumna and Jordan. Just in case.

“To keep all of us from getting killed or captured, I hope,” Sumna said. “Jassa’s plan is a poor one. She can’t get into the castle as easily as she thinks she can. Do you remember when I told you about my fiancé? What he did to us?”

Brandon nodded mechanically.

“When he attacked her in our home world, he damaged one of her wings, badly. She almost lost it, if not for the Odwayon healers. "As of now, it is very weak and she has been over utilizing it lately. She won’t admit the strain, but I can see it. There is no way she’ll make the flight up to the tower the way she is planning. And she can’t control herself as well as she thinks. If she panics, gets cornered or chased or fights, she’ll wing out. I’ve seen it happen before and there is no room for her to maneuver in the palace halls. Her plan has disaster written all over it but she is too stubborn to see the risk. That is why I drugged her.”

“Why Naani? Why the rest of us?” Brandon asked.

Sumna laughed, the sound colored by bitterness. “I think someone would have commented on her absence.” She shook her head. “Brandon, you don’t understand. You don’t understand how important Charion is to us. This is our home; we have nowhere else to go. We can’t return to our home world, me and Jassa are considered criminals there, we would be killed. We can’t mess up this mission. It would be better for me to go alone. I know that you probably can’t appreciate our harsh measures, but I promise you, this is the best for everybody. For all of us.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I tried to drug everyone so I wouldn’t have any interference. I didn’t count on you abstaining.”

“But-But you drank the wine, too!” Brandon said. He could remember seeing her drinking it along with everyone else.

“I didn’t put the drug in the wine; it would have been too diluted. I laced the wineglasses with it, everybody’s but my own. You didn’t drink from your glass either, and I couldn’t come up with a good reason for you to if you were refusing wine.” She shrugged. “I’m not a bad person, Brandon. I’m giving you a choice. Either take the sedative I gave everyone else, curl up next to your lover and sleep. Or come with me and help me take Keith down. This is the last night that Charion will exist under his rule.”

Brandon glanced at Jordan. He could very easily take the sedative and climb up on the chaise next to him, fold his body around his lover and just sleep.

But…

Charion.

Keith.

And God knew what Sumna was up to.

“I’ll go with you,” he finally decided.

“Fine,” Sumna said. “But like I said, I can’t chance any mistakes. So you do what I tell you when I tell you. Got it?”

Brandon nodded.

“Come with me,” Sumna said and walked down the hall. Brandon followed. She led him to the room she and Jassa had been sharing and he felt awkward seeing Sumna’s Enabler lying unconscious on the sheets. Sumna opened a chest that sat at the foot of the bed and withdrew a knife, holding it out to Brandon.

“I-I don’t-“ Brandon stammered.

“Take it,” Sumna commanded. “If everything goes perfectly, you won’t need it, but I won’t have you roaming around the palace defenseless.”

Reluctantly, Brandon took the knife, slid it out of its casing to examine the blade. It was beautiful, the blade silver and slightly curved, the hilt dark brown and smooth in his hand. It wasn’t dissimilar from the one he drew for Jordan, but something about this dagger seemed…different. Special.

“If you have to use it, always aim low. This is designed to stab an attacker in the stomach, then pull up towards the chest. It’s strong, it won’t break.”

Just thinking of doing what Sumna was suggesting made Brandon feel queasy. He slid the knife back inside its sheath and followed her instructions to hide it in his boot. He watched as Sumna armed herself with several more weapons, including a small crossbow that fit across her back and a knife that fit neatly in her cleavage.

He thought again of the knife that he had drawn and had asked Jordan to use, because he didn’t know if he could. Now he stood here in another world with a knife in his boot, instructions on how to use it still revolving inside his mind and a walking armory with breasts standing next to him. Not how he thought this evening would turn out. On his way out, he stopped and pressed one last kiss against his lover’s unresponsive lips before following Sumna into the cool and the night.

~~~

They walked quickly, not slowing until they reached the edges of the palace residence.

"Put your arms around me," Sumna brusquely instructed. Brandon did so hesitantly and Sumna pulled him close. "If anyone looks over here, just act like we're lovers meeting for a nighttime tryst."

"I'm not kissing you," Brandon said.

"A relief to us both," Sumna said. "Now shut up. Study the palace and try to find a good way in."

Brandon's eyes scanned the walls and windows, and while he couldn't deny that he was still pissed off at Sumna for her trickery, he did feel a little measure of relief that Jordan wasn't here. The longer he lay unconscious at Naani's, the safer he would be. It was doubtful that they could pull off their plan before one or both of the Enablers woke up, but it would be nice to at least secure a safe entrance.

"You'll need to get over the wall first,"*Brandon said. “Preferably the west or east."

"Why?" Sumna asked.

"The North and South have larger gates and more guards. The East and West don't."

"Good. And once inside?"

"I would look for places that are commonly exits and not entrances. Less traveled places, like doors near storerooms or guest quarters would be convenient. If you like, you could use your former harem skills to masquerade as a...a concubine to meet...well whoever you used to meet with."

Sumna nodded. "That could work with the right guard. One that isn't familiar with me..." She bit a fingernail. "Once I get in, I can secure another entrance for Jassa and Jordan. I can communicate that to Jassa once she wakes up."

"Okay," Brandon said. The plan didn't sound that great to him, but she seemed to know more about this than he did. "What do I need to do?"

"A diversion would be good."

"Dress in drag and do the hula, huh?"

She gave him a look of puzzled exasperation and Brandon smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"I'm going to move into a position a little closer to the castle," Sumna said. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, then tugged on her dress, loosening the laces, and biting her lips. "Give me about five minutes, then…what are you going to do?"

"Turn myself in,” Brandon said.

Sumna gave him an incredulous look. "That is very dangerous."

Brandon shrugged. "It'll get the guards attention. Especially if I struggle."

"They could kill you on the spot."

Keith will want me alive, Brandon thought. "Leave it to me."

She gave him another long look. "I can't speak for Jordan, but don't expect me or Jassa to come and rescue you. You'll have to find your own way out."

"That pretty much meets my expectations," Brandon said. Sumna raised her eyebrows, but then took off in the other direction, towards the east palace wall. Brandon forced himself to count down from 100, then drew his hood up on his cloak and slowly approached the east wall at a diagonal, shifting a little bit to make sure he would be seen by the guards at the east side, not the more numerous and probably heavily armed guards of the north. When he got close enough to see the group of guards huddled around the east palace entrance, he drew his hood down and strained to see how many were gathered in the weak puddle of light cast by torches. He counted four heads and a possible fifth obscured by the figures of the others.

He drew in a deep breath. If there is a goddess out there, please help me now, he thought. He crouched down and grabbed a handful of stones off the ground. Most were pebbles, but there were one or two good sized ones among them.

He took aim and tossed one of the larger stones at the group of guards. It didn’t hit any of the guards just the wall behind them, but it was enough to get their attention. All of the guards turned towards him and one of them stepped forward.

“Stop right there and state your business,” the one who had broken away said. Brandon didn’t answer, but just kept walking forward. The lone guard approached.

“I’m not going to ask again, wh-“ Before the guard could finish his statement, Brandon threw the remainder of the rocks and dirt into the guard’s face and barely had time to register the guard’s resulting anger before he was on his back, his face throbbing. The guard bent down and hauled him up by the front of his shirt.

“Think that’s funny, you little shit?”

Brandon didn’t answer, but attempted a kick at the guard. This time, however, the guard was ready and managed to avoid Brandon’s foot, pulling him up against his chest and tightening an arm around Brandon’s neck. “We’ve got a feisty one here,” the guard called and Brandon heard the other guards approaching. He struggled, but the guard had a firm hold on him and was about twice his size.

One of the guards approached and swung a lantern towards Brandon’s face. Brandon tried to turn his face away, but the guard holding a lantern grabbed his chin and turned his face into the light.

“Don’t get too excited, Bruen, it’s just a boy,” the lantern guard said. “But hey-“ He swung the lantern closer to Brandon’s face. “This is one of the guys that the Queen had put out a watch for.”

The guard who was holding Brandon released him and spun him around to study his face. From his vantage point, Brandon could see that he had attracted the attention of most of the guards. There was only one guard left at the entrance, and he was watching the scene with interest. Brandon watched a small blur race across the empty space towards the palace walls and execute an exceptional jump into the air.

Brandon quickly averted his gaze so not to draw any attention towards her and instead surveyed his captors. The initial guard, Bruen, was glaring at him. From the lantern light, Brandon could see a faint crust of dirt and dust scoring his cheek and forehead. “What are you looking at, whelp?” the guard growled.

Brandon chose to remain silent. Bruen gave him a shove and Brandon stumbled back to be caught by two other guards who held his arms tightly.

“What’s your name, boy?” the lantern guard asked. Brandon didn’t answer.

Bruen delivered a backhand that left Brandon’s ears ringing and the right side of his face numb. Brandon could taste blood inside his mouth. “Answer the question, you little bitch,” Bruen snarled.

Brandon spit at Bruen and was rewarded promptly with another ear ringing, head jarring smack.

“Think we need to teach this little one a lesson about what happens when you mess around with the guards,” Bruen said, cracking his knuckles menacingly.

“He is on the Queen’s watch,” the lantern guard said. “He needs to be turned in alive.”

“Alive, but not whole,” Bruen growled, pulling a knife from the belt he was wearing. “I think we should see how defiant the little whelp is once he’s missing an eye.”

“Stop it.” A calm voice interrupted him. Brandon saw two other guards approaching them with another cluster from the North entrance rounding the corner.

Brandon winced inwardly—it appeared that he had attracted a little more attention that he had intended.

As the pair drew closer, Brandon saw that it was Ralph, accompanied by another young man with curly, brown hair and soft, unblemished skin. Not likely to be a guard, Brandon guessed. He didn’t carry any of the scars or wounds that the other soldiers seemed to prize.

Ralph turned and said something to the youth, who looked up and spoke, his voice clear and strong. “What is going on here?”

Bruen nodded to Brandon. “This brat was trying to sneak in the castle. When we confronted him, he assaulted me and is refusing to cooperate.”

Ralph stepped closer. Brandon could see the recognition light in his eyes. “This is one of the boys from the Queen’s watch.”

Brandon watched as the other boy repeated Ralph’s words and realized that the boy was translating for Ralph. Ralph wasn’t a Creator or an Enabler, so he couldn’t speak whatever the inhabitants of Charion spoke. So either the young man was very, very skilled at learning American English or…

The young man looked at Brandon and Brandon felt an instant response deep within his mind. Another Creator.

Fuck!

“Yes sir,” the lantern guard said.

Ralph’s eyes traveled to Bruen’s hand. “Were you planning on killing him?”

Bruen grinned. “Of course not. Just wanted to rearrange his face a little.”

“Let us leave that to the Queen’s discretion,” Ralph said. “She might be benevolent enough to spare his life, and he would fetch a better price on the slave market if he retains that pretty face. Have you searched him?”

The lantern guard reddened and shook his head. One of the other guards quickly stepped forward and gave Brandon a quick pat down, finding the knife that Brandon had in his boot and pulling it out. The guard passed it to Ralph who pulled the blade free for a moment to examine it. Someone gave a low whistle. Ralph handed the dagger over to the boy and stepped forward, motioning to the guards. Brandon felt the metallic taste of panic invade his mouth as the guards pulled his arms behind his back.

Rough hands pulled his arms behind his back, something strong and coarse was wrapped around his wrists and elbows…

Brandon bent forward, gagging unproductively as heavy shackles were locked around his wrists. Dimly he heard Bruen spit and say “Not so tough now, is he?”

“Back to your post,” Ralph bit out. He took Brandon by the shoulder and started to lead him to the Northern palace entrance. He paused briefly and addressed the youth. “You can go now, Nirilos.”

The youth frowned, crossing his arms and regarding Brandon suspiciously. “You are sure?”

“Yes.” Ralph nodded. “Meet me at the Queen’s chambers.” The youth was still frowning when he turned and stalked away.

“Where are you taking me?” Brandon asked, fresh panic welling up inside.

“You are on the Queen’s watch. I’m taking you to her.”

“No.” Brandon dug his heels into the dirt and jerked back when Ralph tried to lead him forward. “I’m not here for the Queen. Take me to see Keith.”

“There is no Keith. There is only the Queen,” Ralph said. “Move.”

“No. Not unless you take me to see Keith.”

“There is only the Queen. You will see the Queen,” Ralph said dully. He planted a hand behind Brandon’s shoulders and pushed him forward rather forcefully for his size. Brandon stumbled and almost fell, drawing himself back up steady at the last moment. He found that he was shaking and couldn’t make himself stop.

“What are you doing back here?” Ralph asked. They passed the guards at the North Entrance and were inside the palace. Brandon let his eyes sweep the interior as they walked through the main entranceway, trying to familiarize himself in case he had to get back out this way. He wished Jordan was here.

“I’m here to see Keith.”

“You’ll have to see the Queen. If you want to see the King-“ Ralph paused and glanced at Brandon. “Then you have to see the Queen first.”

Brandon shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand more than you think,” Ralph said.

“Then you would take me to see Keith.”

Ralph shook his head. “No-one sees anyone without the Queen’s permission. Not even I.”

Ralph eventually led him down a corridor that he recognized as leading to what had been Leia’s private quarters. Nausea rolled inside of him. He wanted Jordan. Wanted to go home. Wanted to be back in his bedroom, sitting on the floor with Jordan, kissing. The warm wooden symbol that Maikeeli had given him was resting against his chest, but it offered little comfort.

Nirilos was waiting at the door and pushed it open as they approached.

Brandon glanced down, watching his feet as they walked. Left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

He came to a stop next to Ralph, kept his eyes trained on his feet. Safer that way.

“And what is this?” the Queen asked. The familiar lilt of her voice caused a cramp in Brandon’s stomach and he was aware that he was perilously close to tears. He bit the inside of his mouth until they went away.

“-dispute with the guards.” Ralph was saying, with the faithful Nirilos translating. “Since he was under the Queen’s watch, I brought him here.”

“How interesting,” the Queen said. “Anything else?”

“He had this,” Ralph answered, holding up the dagger.

“Thank you,” the queen said, taking it. “You can unshackle the young man, then leave us.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Ralph unlocked the shackles, then left the room with Nirilos in tow. Brandon flexed his wrists and the shackles fell to the floor with a clang. He kept his eyes trained on the floor. He had listened to Ralph leave and knew the door was behind him. He wondered how far he would get before the guards were on him.

A long silence stretched out between them. Brandon was trying to control his panic. Every instinct he had was screaming for him to leave, but his body didn’t seem incline to unfreeze anytime soon. His heartbeat roared inside his head and battery acid lay on the back of his tongue and his throat.

“Do you have anything to say to me?” the Queen finally said.

“Why are you doing this?” Brandon forced out. His dry throat made his voice croak and crack. He started trembling again and couldn’t make himself stop. His chest felt tight and brittle.

“Doing?” the queen repeated, sounding politely confused.

“Why are you impersonating the Queen?” Brandon said. There was a moment of silence, then a very masculine chuckle.

“Well, I am trying to convince a nervous populace that the Queen is still alive and well, but I guess I needn’t keep up the charade for you,” Rajar said.

Brandon finally looked up and saw Rajar crossing the room to sit down in his true form. His stomach rolled as he watched Rajar settle back in a chair and pick up the dagger that Ralph had taken from Brandon. Rajar studied it intensely, thumbing the sharp edge and lifting it up to his nose, inhaling deeply.

“A fine blade, crafted from Silver Falls metal by the craftsmen at the Caverns, if I had to guess,” Rajar said. “And coated with Serahket poison. Nasty piece of work, this.” He glanced at Brandon, raised an eyebrow, then placed the knife down on the table next to him. “And what would a young man like you be doing carrying around such a mean weapon for?”

Brandon didn’t answer. His heart was racing, sweat was dampening his clothes and hair and his stomach was cold and tight. His muscles were wound tight, wanting to run, or fight, or do anything besides just stand there. Brandon searched his mind wildly, but there was still no response from Jordan.

He would tell you to calm down, Brandon thought. Be strong. This isn’t like last time. I’m not drugged and I’m not helpless. Keep him talking and decide whether to run… His eyes flickered back to the knife. Or fight.

Rajar crossed his legs, propping an ankle on the opposite knee, and rested his chin in his hand, regarding Brandon. “I never thought I would be laying my eyes on you again,” Rajar said. “After you killed one of my contacts and escaped, I figured that would be the end.”

“I didn’t kill her,” Brandon quickly corrected.

“Oh really?” Rajar said, uncrossing his legs and sitting up taller. Brandon took several steps back, almost tripping over his own feet. “So she just wrapped a guard’s belt, like the one you were wearing, around her neck and strangled herself?”

I’m going to hurt them, Brandon thought, furious at the way Sumna and Jassa had so neatly framed him. “I didn’t touch her. I was in no condition to do so.”

“You didn’t touch her?” Rajar’s skepticism was evident. “And yet you break into the Queen’s palace with a knife?”

“Based on what happened the last time I was in here, I felt it was best that I didn’t wander around defenseless,” Brandon spat.

Rajar colored, the apricot in his cheeks and ears deepening. “I assume you are talking about that unpleasantness the night the Queen left us.”

“She didn’t leave. She died,” Brandon corrected. Inside he was furious. It helped, blunted some of the fear with a hot edge that warmed him, gave him courage. “And unpleasant is a damn weak word to describe what I went through.”

“I know it is,” Rajar said. “But what choice did I have?”

“Are you kidding me?” Brandon said, incredulous. The panic had receded a little, leaving him feeling sick and weak and overcautious. “You fucking raped me!”

“I was ravenous. We need sex to survive, and even before all that happened, Keith had kept me restricted to make sure I would stay weak. We are a peaceful race, but when we are deprived, we turn into monsters. I knew the Queen was nearing her birth date and wouldn’t survive much longer. That is why I was roaming the castle, hoping to find someone to seduce. I thought at the time that you were just a lonely guard. Later on, after Leia called me to the garden, I saw you were in trouble. My intention was just to get you away from Keith. But you were there and my hunger was too great and the monster came forward.”

“I don’t believe you,” Brandon said. “About any of it. You’re a shape-shifter, you could have anyone you wanted.”

Rajar looked slightly puzzled and Brandon wondered if something had been lost in his translation. His eyes flickered to the knife again.

“I cannot have anyone that I want,” Rajar said. “Perhaps you are ignorant of our kind. Once we mate and the female takes a child, we cannot mate with anyone else. The females of our breed are hearty enough to mate late into their gestation period. Leia was obviously not of our kind, but the rules do not change. But I could not continue to mate with her as her physical health began to deteriorate. By the end, it was the child keeping Leia alive more than the other way around.” A muscle flickered in Rajar’s jaw. “I was half mad with hunger. I recognized your scent from earlier, and like I said, I didn’t want Keith to get a hold of you.”

“Why?” Brandon asked.

“I’ve seen what happens to those who draw his attention,” Rajar said softly. “You would have ended up in the hands of Elizabeth.”

“So?” Brandon asked. He finally felt the first anxious stirrings in the back of his mind that belonged to someone else. Jordan was waking up.

I’m okay, baby, Brandon reassured him, then reluctantly tore his attention away from his slowly awakening partner and focused on Rajar.

“I’ve seen the bodies that come out of the prison once she is done with them. Let me put it to you bluntly. If you had ended up with Keith, you would have been raped, possibly several times, tortured and then killed, most likely painfully. If there was any way I could have gotten you away from him without doing what I did, I would have. Unfortunately…” Rajar shook his head.

“Why do you even care what happened to me?” Brandon asked. “What made me so fucking important?”

“I knew you. Through Leia’s memories, I knew you,” Rajar said softly. “She-“ Rajar broke off and closed his eyes, swallowed. Brandon saw his chance and lunged for the knife sitting next to Rajar.

Rajar’s hand moved like a snake striking, too quickly to recognize the danger and too frightening to react against it. Strong, lean fingers wrapped around Brandon’s throat and yanked him away from the knife.

Brandon’s only coherent thought was I’m going to die. He is going to kill me and I’m going to die. He felt strangely calm, almost peaceful.

Rajar’s green eyes were gazing hard into his, and Brandon realized that Rajar wasn’t choking him, and except for the mild pressure of his fingers, Rajar wasn’t hurting him at all.

“Look at me,” Rajar commanded, but it was a needless request. Brandon felt himself already trapped in those fiercely green eyes, like a spider in the web. He felt transparent, like they could see everything in his mind, in his soul.

“I am going to ask you some questions and you will answer them honestly to the best of your ability.”

“Yes.” The word left Brandon’s mouth before he had ever made a conscious decision to utter it.

“Are you from Charion?”

“No.”

“Are you from the Queen’s world?”

“Yes.”

“What is your relationship to the Queen?”

“She’s my closest friend,” he replied. Tears clogged his voice.

“Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

Rajar’s eyes shifted, studying him. “Do you know Keith?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love him?”

“No.”

“Why are you here?”

“To kill him. And to save Leia's baby.”

Rajar’s hand flexed slightly and his hypnotic eyes narrowed. “What do you care of Ezekial?”

“I know that he is thought to be the child of a Prophecy and that a lot of people want to use him for their own means. I want to keep him from being used by others. I want to give him a chance to make his own choices, his own mistakes and his own triumphs. I want to make sure he isn’t a pawn.”

Rajar stared at him for a long time. “Ezekial is my child.”

“I know.”

“Stay away from him,” Rajar cautioned. “Do you plan to kill Elizabeth?”

“No,” Brandon said, surprising himself slightly. “But she will die if Keith dies.”

“Are you sure?” Rajar asked.

“Yes.”

Rajar released Brandon as quickly as he had captured him. Brandon backed up several paces until he hit the wall behind him. He could feel Jordan’s anxiety and anger broiling in the back of his head. Rajar stood and picked up the knife that Ralph had taken from him. He slid it back in its case and held it out to Brandon.

Brandon stared at it, then at Rajar, blankly.

“Take it.”

Speechless and still suspicious of some kind of trick, Brandon inched forward, his hand outstretched. He was unprepared when Rajar let go of the knife and almost dropped it, fumbling until he had it gripped tight in sweaty hands.

“What are you doing?” Brandon asked.

“It's a good knife,” Rajar said calmly. "No need to let it go to waste." He shimmered in front of Brandon’s eyes, then was wearing Leia’s face and body and clothes.

“You know I could kill you right now,” Brandon said.

“You could try.” Leia’s voice carried a mocking sarcastic tone that Brandon’s wasn’t used to hearing. She stepped up to Brandon, well within striking distance. Brandon didn’t step back. Even though he knew that Rajar was behind his best friend’s image, he just couldn’t be afraid of Leia. “But if you did, then what? You leave and the guards find you. And find that you have killed their Queen. They might take you to Keith or…” The queen tilted her head, letting her curls fall over one shoulder “They could kill you on the spot. And then what?” Leia opened the door. “Come on. I’ll take you where you want to go.”

Uncertain and unafraid, Brandon followed him into the hall.