The Bleeding Worlds: Resonance Part 11

His blindfold was removed.

Fuyuko and four others from her team stood in a semicircle formation around him. Dim lighting illuminated bare concrete walls, broken only by a single door. Cameras positioned in the corners of the room were all trained on his position.

Say nothing, focus on nothing. Just remember to take steady breaths.

He found the hardest thing was keeping what Brandt would've said in a similar situation out of his head. Every imagined quip threatened to make him smirk or laugh outright, and the atmosphere in the room guaranteed he'd get hit for such a thing.

To distract himself, he tried to calculate math in his head.

If we'd been traveling approximately thirty-five miles an hour, that's...carry the one...approximately point-six miles per minute, times the initial sixteen...

The door opened.

Several armed guards, wearing uniforms similar to the a.s.sault force at the library, filed into the room. A man took each corner, and then one in the center of each wall. When they were in position, the men in the corners lifted their rifles and trained the barrels on Jason.

The Anunnaki who escorted him in shifted their positions to avoid being caught in the potential crossfire.

He made a casual glance toward Fuyuko, trying to gauge from her reaction how panicked he should be. Her shoulders tensed, she stood a little straighter, and she set her jaw. Thinly veiled contempt filled her eyes.

Jason wouldn't panic. Not quite yet.

From the hall, a male called something out. At the sound, all the guards without their weapons trained on Jason stood at attention. Even the ones with their guns aimed appeared to stand just a bit taller and straighter.

Anubis entered the room.

There was no mistaking him-his head was a jackal's, just like the hieroglyphs. It wasn't a mask. He'd allowed Veil corruption to flood his system, permanently changing his head. Rumors suggested some Ageless Ones bore such changes as a sign of power and control. Jason had never seen such a thing personally.

"This is the one?"

Anubis' voice filled the room-a deep, guttural rumble which hung in the entire open s.p.a.ce as opposed to coming directly from the man himself.

"It is, Lord Anubis," Fuyuko replied.

Anubis walked closer to Jason.

A gold gauntleted fist smashed across Jason's left cheek.

Black spots blurred the better part of Jason's vision. Gla.s.s shards of pain stabbed along his cheek and jaw.

Anubis drew back his fist to deliver another punishing blow.

Jason dimly thought, If that hits me, it'll smash right through my skull.

A translucent spear shot between Jason's face and Anubis' fist. The intense cold coming from the spear's shaft touched Jason's cheek, numbing the pain.

"You dare?"

"My Lord," Fuyuko said, "this man should be interrogated. If you strike him with the strength you've gathered, you will kill him."

"He deserves to die. Do you have any idea how many of my men died at this b.a.s.t.a.r.d's hands?"

"Yes. And the answer would've been zero if you'd listened to my suggestions from the very start."

"Insolent little girl," Anubis growled, "Do you think I'll allow you to speak to me in such a way? Step aside, or my fist will go through you to reach him."

Jason felt the tension in the room jack to twenty. Fuyuko's people were ready to back her up, regardless of the number of automatic weapons readied.

"Lord Anubis." Fuyuko's voice remained calm and steady. "You could kill this man without interrogating him. You could kill me in the process. After all, as you say, I am only a little girl. But will you withstand the might of Lord Quetzalcoatl's fury? Because, even though we are on your soil, I still belong to him. And since it was I who captured this man, he is my prisoner. Also, the prisoner was once a member of the North American division of Suture, meaning he is Lord Quetzalcoatl's property anyway. So..." The spear disappeared, and Fuyuko stood directly between Jason and Anubis. "You are free to make your choice."

Time itself paused for a breath. Everyone hung motionless-guards with fingers a feather's pressure away from firing, the Veil already grazed as Anunnaki reached for power. Given the size of the room with its concrete walls, Jason could only conclude one outcome, no one was going to survive.

Anubis growled in a manner befitting his dog-like visage.

"Enough," he said.

He snapped his fingers. The guards stood down and began filing out of the room.

"Be sure to tell Quetzalcoatl I expect more than my fair amount of compensation for this debacle."

Fuyuko gave a slight bow.

"I will pa.s.s along your message to My Lord," she said.

The walls shook, and the room filled with a deafening Wham! as Anubis slammed the door.

Fuyuko turned her attention to Jason.

"I'm going to remove the collar long enough for you to heal yourself. Do not try anything stupid."

"Sir..." one of her team said. "Is that wise?"

Fuyuko straightened.

"Are you saying you lack faith in myself and your teammates to contain a single man shackled at the hands and feet? Because if you are," even without her spear, a chill filled the room, "I take it as an insult and will have you removed from the team when we return Stateside."

The man stammered out an apology and fell silent.

"If it makes you feel better," she said, "you have my permission to kill him if he does anything out of line."

She moved behind Jason, her cool fingers brushing against his neck as she unlocked the collar.

He reached for the Veil, careful to draw a slow and steady supply of its healing energies.

The sensation of warm liquid poured over his arm, through his skin, deep to his core, and pumped out with his blood to his extremities. Bruises, wounds, and fractures itched and burned as flesh and bone knit together.

He blinked his eyes a few times, clearing the last of the dark spots, and worked his jaw. It still felt a little stiff, but didn't cause any pain.

"Are you finished?" Fuyuko asked.

He nodded.

The collar closed around his neck once more.

"This room has only one exit," Fuyuko said, moving toward the door. "You will be monitored constantly until our transportation back to the Americas is arranged. You will remain shackled. If you need the washroom, you might as well soil yourself-we can always hose you off later. If you do get out of this room, remember this facility is filled with armed men who had friends aboard those choppers your team dispatched. I will only be able to keep you alive if you do exactly as I say. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

She left the room without a further word.

4.

His Daughter's Eyes

Gwynn held up his hand.

"It's ok Sophia, she's a friend." His eyebrow raised. "You are, right?"

Adrastia nodded enthusiastically.

When Adrastia first came up the hill, she saw nothing but Gwynn-standing straight, strong, yet broken in ways she'd never imagined. The cottage-obviously his home-failed to draw her attention.

Now she looked and suppressed a gasp.

They weren't on Earth or Asgard, but she recognized this place.

If something must happen, the universe will find a way to make it happen, she'd heard many lifetimes ago. This cottage, set on a green hill, surrounded by open fields and forests in the distance, shouldn't have existed, nor been so precise in its similarity. Even the weather worn door...

"Momma, what's happening?" a small voice said from behind Sophia.

Sophia lowered the gun and engaged the safety. She leaned it against the outside wall.

"Nothing, Sweetie. Daddy just has a visitor."

"Who? Who?"

Sophia was all bent over, grasping at air as dark hair bobbed and weaved away from her.

"Just let her see," Gwynn said. "She's safe enough."

The young girl-her voice gave it away-seemed hesitant. Knowledge was far more interesting when it was forbidden. Shoulder length black hair and deep green eyes peered around from behind Sophia.

Adrastia took a step forward, her hand reaching forward. She stopped, her hand hanging empty in the air. Futures once were, that will never be again. Her hands alone couldn't capture those ghosts. She let her arms sag to her side.

"Daddy? She's...your daughter?" Adrastia asked. "I mean, really, truly, your daughter, not adopted or anything?"

Gwynn beamed at the little girl, who under her father's admiring gaze gained some confidence and stepped out from behind Sophia.

"Allison," Gwynn said, "this is Adrastia. She's an... old friend of mine."

"Allison..." Adrastia intoned the name like giving voice to a half-forgotten memory.

"Yes," Gwynn said, "we named her after-"

"Your mother. Yes, I remember. Can I...see her?"

Gwynn moved closer to Adrastia and waved Allison over.

The child raced out the door to her father. After giving her a brief squeeze, he turned her around to face Adrastia, who crouched down so she could be eye level with the little girl.

"And how old are you now?" Adrastia asked.

"Four," Allison replied, arm outstretched and four fingers raised for emphasis.

Adrastia's eyes widened. Four? She looked at the girl's raised arm and saw the markings.

"You've already awakened," she said.

Allison c.o.c.ked her head and inspected Adrastia. Her hand stretched just enough for her fingers to brush Adrastia's face, sending electrical stings across her cheek.

"How did you get so old?" Allison asked.

"Allie!" Sophia jogged toward them and scooped the girl up into her arms. "You should say sorry to Daddy's friend."

The little girl stared at Adrastia.

"Well?" Sophia tapped her foot.

"I did," Allison whined. "Tell her," she pleaded to Adrastia.

"It's fine. In her own way, she said sorry. Besides, sometimes I wonder the same thing."

"Well, I suppose you two have a lot to talk about," Sophia said. "I'll keep the munchkin busy until Grandpa gets back."

Sophia swooped Allison through the air, guiding her back to the cottage.

"You'll say goodbye before you go, right?" the little girl called over her shoulder.