TaleSpin: Sacrificial Wrongs
by: Marie Kelly
Chapter 2
The characters and settings from TaleSpin belong to the Walt Disney Company and are used without permission. The characters and settings not from TaleSpin belong to me and are used with permission. Also, I'd like to apologize for this being so darned late.
It was pain that awoke Baloo; a sharp, stabbing pain in his right side and a dull, throbbing pain in his head. He groaned, and lifted up his left hand to feel his head. His fingers touched upon a painful swelling, and he winced. He most likely had a concussion and broken ribs. The pilot took some solace in the fact that at least he wasn't dead.
"Dead! Kit!" Ignoring the pain, he stood rapidly up. His feet crunched on a thin sprinkling of sand and he stared, horrified, at the sight in front of him. The Sea Duck was a mess. The plane lay on its side, completely bent out of shape, with the windshield cracked and the pilot door laying halfway off its hinges. There was absolutely no possibility of the Sea Duck being anything close to airworthy. However wretched that might be, Baloo did not care about it. All he cared about was that Kit was missing.
"KIT!! Where are ya, li'l britches?!" Baloo looked into the cargo hold, and found it clean and empty, save for a few small boxes lying around and his heart dropped slightly. He closed his eyes, and reopened them, almost hoping that Kit would miraculously appear.
"KIIIT!!" Baloo ignored the pain to yell once more. He was rather surprised to hear a sort of muffled sound, as of feet upon sand, coming from outside the plane. "KIT!" he called again, walking towards the open cockpit door. He reached it, and leaned out of the plane.
"You miserable bear!" Don Karnage reached into the plane, and pushed Baloo back. The pirate then leapt nimbly into the Sea Duck and stood over Baloo, breathing heavily. His clothes were torn severely yet, Baloo noticed disgustedly, his body seemed free of any injuries.
"Thanks to you," Karnage growled, "I have lost my plane, I have lost my men, I have lost my sword, and I have lost my treasure!" Infuriated, he kicked Baloo in the side. Baloo winced, glad that Karnage hadn't chosen to kick his cracked rib. The pilot stood up, trying his best to hide his injuries.
"Kit's gone," Baloo said accusingly.
Karnage shrugged. "Why should I be caring about this Kit person?"
White-hot rage filled Baloo, and he wanted to throw himself on the pirate. "Well, I don't know, Karny," he spat, venom and fury pouring forth from his entire body. "Maybe I was hoping that there might be some decency in you. Maybe I'm just an idiot who was hoping that even you might show some regret after you killed your old protégé!"
"Protégé?" Karnage repeated, confused. "What are you talking about, you estupid bear?"
"Listen here, Karnage, I don't like this anymore than Kit does, but he was your protégé for about a year!" Baloo had no idea why he was telling Karnage that. He knew better than to expect any show of decency from that pirate, but it still sickened him. It sickened him that somebody as wonderful as Kit had spent so much of his time trying to please somebody that didn't care one speck for him. It sickened him simply that Kit Cloudkicker had ever met Don Karnage.
A dark grin slowly spread across Karnage's face. "Ah, my reckless rival, you have hit your head and completely lost all your marble cakes. I do not have a protégé. I never had a protégé."
"Kit—!"
"Kit who?" Karnage said carelessly. "I do not know this Kit person."
Bile rose in Baloo's throat. "Kit's my navigator!" he shouted. "He's the best damn navigator in the world! I know you hate him because he betrayed you, but he's the finest navigator in the world!"
"Betray…me? You must be mistaken, Baloo. I have never permitted any betrayal," Karnage growled, his voice cold.
"Then how come your attack on Cape Suzette failed? You had to leave pretty early."
The pirate seethed. "It was that annoying business lady-type boss of yours!" His face twisted into an ugly visage as he remembered. "I attacked Cape Suzette. I invaded Cape Suzette. I plundered Cape Suzette. I had the entire city on its knees. I should have had all the gloriousity, yet who was on the front pages of the newspaper? The heroes of Cape Suzette, Baloo and Rebecca Cunningham!" He smacked his fist against the side of the plane. "That should have been me!"
"You're no hero, Karnage," Baloo growled. "Just a no-good, lyin', stinkin', thievin' murderer!"
Karnage glanced over at the navigator's chair. "This Kit person was in that chair when I shot him?"
"Yes."
"Ah-ha!" Karnage smirked. "I am now knowing what you are trying to do, Baloo," he sneered, "and it will not work."
"What I'm trying to do?"
"I am, as you well know, a man of honor. Naturalmente, as a man of honor I would be most horrified to discover that I had accidentally killed somebody."
"But murder's ok!" Baloo spat.
Karnage pointedly ignored Baloo as he continued. "You claim that Kit was sitting in that chair and I have shooted at him, but most clearly nobody was ever in that chair. Not only is there no Kit there now, but there never was anybody there, yes-no?"
"Why you…"
Karnage clicked his tongue. "Temper, temper, Baloo. You are most injured." To emphasize his point, he poked Baloo in his cracked rib. "Were you really thinking that I would not be noticing that, Baloo? I do admire your attempt to keep your injury hidden," he admitted. "But you have forgotten something very, very important. You might not be aware of this, but people who are shot, bleed. And blood stains terribly. If I, as you say, killed this Kit person, then where is the blood?"
"Are you crazy, Karnage!?" Baloo yelled.
Karnage's eyes widened and he reached for his sword, his fingers brushing against his hip before he remembered he no longer had it. "Never call me that word," he whispered.
"It's right he—" Baloo's voice dropped off, disbelieving. The navigator's chair, and the floor around it, were spotlessly clean. "But that's impossible," he whispered. "Kit was shot." He looked down at his shirt, and found it to be perfectly clean. Had he not hugged Kit before he lost consciousness? How, then, could there be no blood on his shirt? "That's impossible. Kit was right there. I know he was." Talking more to himself, Baloo began recounting the events. "We were flying. You attacked us. You shot Kit--" at that, Karnage sighed and rolled his eyes.
Baloo, still remembering aloud, began physically retracing his steps. "After you shot Kit, I put on the auto-pilot and ran back here to…get…no. No. No. No." Baloo stepped back, shaking his head. Before him, hanging half-off the bent and twisted shelf, was a slightly warped, yet still sealed metal box.
Hands shaking, Baloo took the box, opened it, and peered inside. Inside were throat lozenges, some aspirin, and a clean roll of gauze bandages and a bottle of Mercurochrome. Baloo took out the bandages and the Mercurochrome, still unable to believe what he saw. He had used them. Or at least, he had tried to use them. Fat lot of good they had done him. Nevertheless, there was no possible way they could have been returned to the medicine box, in their original state.
But they had.
Exasperated, Don Karnage grabbed Baloo by the collar and pulled the bear's face close to his own. "Listen, you miserable bear, you are owing me some treasure, and I want it now." With that, he unceremoniously pushed the bear to the floor of the seaplane. "Give me the royal walking stick and the one hundred thirty thousand dollars you received in payment for it, if you don't mind."
"Walking stick? Karny, I told you, I don't have it. I gave it to Cira Lyden."
Karnage chuckled. "You will not be fooling me like that, Baloo. I had a very interesting conversation with Miss Lyden and she told me that the Sea Duck was delivering the artifact back to Cape Suzette. Of course, my most magnanimous self offered to assist in the delivery. Now—" Karnage looked around the Sea Duck. "—I am not seeing it. So, where is it?"
"I told you Karny, I don't have it. It's back in Aidira. I left it with Cira. Kit didn't trust Cira. Or Diana for that matter. He found this whole thing fishier than last Tuesday's special at Louie's. But I ignored him. Why did I ignore him? Why didn't I listen to him?" Baloo put his head in his hands.
"You really do not have the walking stick?" Karnage asked, surprised. "Very well, then." He smoothed, as best he could, his torn clothes. "But I want the one hundred and thirty thousand dollars. I am tired of waiting!!"
"You want it? Fine! Take it!" Baloo reached into his shirt's pocket and threw the envelope with the money at the pirate. Karnage accepted it, opened the envelope, and began greedily inspecting the money.
Karnage thus distracted, Baloo took the opportunity to attempt to radio for help. As he picked up the microphone, his heart sank. The sheath covering the wires was ripped, and the wires were exposed, torn and frayed. Still, Baloo knew the Sea Duck was a fine plane. He would be able to radio Becky, and she would tell him that Kit was safe at Higher for Hire.
"This is the Sea Duck," he said. His voice was clear, and he very faintly heard the static near-echo that accompanied his voice when he spoke on a properly functioning radio. Baloo brightened and repeated his desperate plea for help. "This is the Sea Duck. If anybody can hear me, please respond."
From the radio there came a faint reply, full of static. "We hear you Sea Duck. Over."
Baloo sighed in relief. "I crashed in—"
Karnage interrupted Baloo by deftly reaching out and pulling hard on the microphone cord, severing it from the radio. "What the hell did you do that for, Karny?" Baloo gasped.
Karnage glared. "I will not allow you to call the annoying police officials so they can arrest me, Baloo."
"Yeah, well, how are we s'posed ta get outta here?" Baloo countered.
Karnage's face dropped. "I do not know."
"Well," Baloo decided, "I ain't stayin' here with you." Kit's out there somewhere, and I've gotta find him. He stepped out of the Sea Duck into a great expanse of desert. Before him lay the setting sun, the darkly colored disk casting a deep, burnt orange glow upon the swells of sand below. The Sea Duck lay at the bottom of a sand dune, to the east of the sun. Baloo decided to go to the top of the dune upon which the Sea Duck lay, to see if he could see anything except an eternity of sand.
As soon as he did so, Baloo gasped. Below him there was a rather small town, composed primarily of stucco and adobe buildings. Around the town were a giant pyramid and a series of smaller pyramids.
"But that's Aridia," Baloo wondered. How could he possibly be near Aridia? He had been attacked, and swallowed by the sandstorm barely fifteen minutes form Aidira. Aridia was hours from Aidira. It was almost impossible to believe that the sandstorm had carried him all the way to Aridia.
Baloo started walking towards Aridia. He would call Becky, get some medical attention for himself, and rescue Kit.
"Hang on, Li'l Britches," he whispered. "I'll save ya."
"Seventy-five percent?" Rebecca Cunningham clenched the phone so tightly the tips of her fingers turned white. "What do you mean, you're raising the Sea Duck's insurance seventy-five percent?"
The insurance agent spoke with the patient, somewhat condescending tone of one who was used to dealing with idiots. "Miss Cunningham, shipping is a rather risky venture."
"I know that!" Rebecca spat. "That's why I'm paying you guys good money. But I don't think a seventy-five percent increase is reasonable."
"It's perfectly reasonable. We at Air First Insurance pride ourselves on dealing with each of our clients in a personal way. We have the personal touch." Rebecca rolled her eyes at the mindless quoting of the company's motto. "And the Higher for Hire has lost more cargo to air pirate attacks than any other freight company we cover. Therefore, we must raise your rates."
"But…there haven't been any pirate attacks!"
"Oh? Miss Cunningham, I have here the record of the Sea Duck's insurance claims. The Sea Duck lost three percent more cargo than anybody else we cover and when stated reason the cargo was lost or delayed, may I quote, 'pilot was attacked by air pirates' appears eighty-three percent of the time."
"Well, yes, but…"
"Are you suggesting that there was deception on your part, Miss Cunningham? Might I remind you that fraud is federal offense?"
"Fraud?!" Rebecca sputtered. She had detested putting down the air pirate excuse, but her insurance company had insisted on a reason. "I did not commit fraud!"
"Good." Rebecca practically heard the insurance agent smile. "Then we will expect the updated payment at our offices within three business days."
"Three days?" Rebecca was livid. "There's a mandatory two week notice!"
"We mailed it out ten days ago."
"But I just received it today!"
"We cannot be blamed for any delays that the Post Office might incur."
"I'll just bet you can't," Rebecca muttered through clenched teeth.
"Pardon?" the insurance agent asked pleasantly.
Rebecca sighed. "I'll have it at your office."
"Thank you. It was a pleasure, Miss Cunningham. Remember, we at Air First Insurance care personally about all our customers, and we have the personal touch." Grimacing, Rebecca hung up the telephone. I swear, she thought, if Baloo tries to give me the air pirate excuse one more time, I'll make sure he never buys back the Sea Duck.
"He was mean, wasn't he, Mommy?" Rebecca's six year-old daughter asked seriously.
"No, sweetie," Rebecca smiled tiredly. "He was just doing his job."
"But he didn't have to be such a jerk about it."
"I don't like you using that language, Molly Cunningham," Rebecca scolded. "Now go play, sweetie. Mommy has to think."
"Okay! On our last exciting adventure, the evil criminal group, The Gang of Six, stole the precious Endless Emerald, which they plan to use to take over the world. Only one person can stop them—Danger Woman!" While speaking, Molly put on her Danger Woman costume—a blue blanket as a cape, a colander as a helmet, and a spatula as the Danger Wand.
"Ah-ha!" Molly grasped her spatula tightly and staring at a red, upholstered chair. "Danger Woman has discovered that the criminals hid the Endless Emerald in a deep dark cave. Only Danger Woman can go in and save the world!" Molly crawled under the chair. She remembered a green ball had rolled under the bed; that would suffice as the Endless Emerald.
Her mother must have cleaned it up, because the ball wasn't there. Molly wasn't disappointed, because something else was there. Wondering, she pulled the strange object out, and looked at it. It was curved object, consisting of overlapping metal wedges. "What's this?" she wondered.
Rebecca looked over. "I don't know, Molly," she replied. "It's probably something of Wildcat's." Rebecca sighed. "I have one employee who clearly isn't on this planet, and one who's completely irresponsible. Why can't I have just one decent employee? Maybe if I had that, I wouldn't be worrying about the insurance rate hike." Rebecca pushed her books and ledgers away from her. "Where am I supposed to get that much money right now?" Molly stopped playing and looked at her mother.
"Why don't you use the money Miss Lyden gave us?" she suggested.
"Oh, sweetie, that's a great idea. But she wrote a check, and banks won't clear the check in time."
Molly turned her attention back to the strange metallic object. She wondered why Wildcat had left it under Baloo's chair, instead of in his houseboat. When she lifted it up, it folded in on itself, thus becoming a smaller, more manageable size. Molly pulled on the sides, and it fanned open until a very faint, almost inaudible click was heard. The object, at full size, was approximately twice as big as it had been when she first pulled it out from under the chair.
"I know!" she cried, holding the surprisingly light object in front of her chest. "The Gang of Six was almost about to get Danger Woman, but luckily she has her trusty Danger Shield to protect her! No attack can get past the Danger Shield!" Molly smiled to herself, and hoped that Wildcat wouldn't ask for the Danger Shield back anytime soon. It would be such a shame to have to return such a fun toy.
"Finders keepers," she whispered and smiled, satisfied.
As Kit woke up, he realized that he felt simply wonderful. He moaned happily and burrowed down into the incredibly thick, strong, smooth sheets. A gentle, warm, floral scent filled his nostrils. A scent, he slowly came to realize, should not exist. Nor should his bedding feel this impossibly comfortable. Kit groaned as he realized he was dreaming. A pity. This was such a nice dream, and he fought to hold onto the dream.
Kit decided he would avoid waking up for as long as possible and scrunched his eyes shut, willing himself to stay asleep for as long as possible. Curiously enough, though, nothing changed. Though he was fully aware of his state, Kit continued to dream. The cool softness of the sheets remained upon his skin, and he did not hear the expected raspy snoring of Baloo in the bed beside him.
With a sudden, involuntary gasp Kit sat straight up in the bed, his eyes wide open. Kit knew, without a doubt, that he was no longer asleep. He also knew that he had no idea where he was. The room was actually quite small, with his bedding taking up most of the floor. The wall was painted gold, and upon the walls were mosaics of precious gemstones.
A tigress, with black braided hair and a bright crimson robe knelt by an incense burner. When Kit opened her eyes, she appeared startled for but a second, and then bowed her head ever so slightly. "I see you are awake, Little Master," she said, and the accent in her voice was somehow familiar.
"Where's Baloo?" Kit demanded.
"Baloo?" The tigress bit her lip. "What are you talking about, Little Master?"
"Did you bring me here?" Kit didn't wait for a reply, but continued. "I was with Baloo. We were flying. Then…something happened. I don't know what, but…" Kit's voice dropped off. He was aware that there was something missing from his memory, something important, but he didn't know what it was.
"Flying?" The tigress gave a nervous chuckle. "You're talking nonsense, Little Master."
"Please…Baloo's out there. Where is he?" Kit breathed heavily. "I need him. He's my friend, and I need him."
"Little Master," the tigress wrung her hands together. "You are not making any sense. You are our Little Master. You have never flown with any Baloo. You—"
"I shall take care of this, Benete," said familiar voice. Goosebumps popped up on Kit's skin. He knew that voice. It sounded different from the way he had heard it before, but he still knew it. The person to whom the voice belonged stood in the shadows.
Benete, the tigress, stared at her hands, which she had clenched into fists. "It is my duty to watch over the Little Master," she managed to choke out. "Do not bother us. Your duty is done."
"My duty is not done, Benete. If it were, we would not be having this conversation, would we, Benete?"
"Don't call me that!" snapped Benete. "I can't tolerate the thought of somebody like you talking to me in such a familiar manner. You failed." Benete curled her lip in distaste. "Why should you get another chance?"
"I agree," the voice said jovially. "But you can't fix it, can you? Only I can make him the way he's supposed to be, so I shall kindly request that you leave."
Reluctantly, Benete stood up. "I think it's utterly shameful that a person like you is going to enter such a place as this," she proclaimed and exited the room, almost seeming to turn her body in on itself to avoid touching the person to whom the voice belonged.
"Hello, Kit Cloudkicker," the person said, entering the room. "Do you remember me?"
"You're Diana and Cira."
Wurdyne smiled. "Yes, I am. You may call me Wurdyne."
Kit ignored her. "Where's Baloo?" he demanded. "I have to find him. I have to go home."
"There is no Baloo." Gracefully, Wurdyne knelt by Kit's bedding and produced a vial made of brown crystal from a leather bag that hung upon her waist. "You have been dreaming, Little Master."
"No I haven't!" Kit yelled.
Wurdyne emptied the vial, which contained oil, into her palms. She rubbed them together and began massaging Kit's scalp. "Baloo is a dream, Little Master. This is your home. This is where you have always lived."
"But—" Half-heartedly, Kit tried to pull away from Wurdyne. The massage was terrifyingly comfortable, and he felt his desires being sapped away. "But Baloo and I have always—"
"Do you remember anything besides Baloo, Little Master?"
"I can't," Kit whispered. "I should, but I can't."
"It was a dream," explained Wurdyne. "Or perhaps, this is the dream. Go to sleep," she ordered. "When you awaken, you will have no more doubts, Little Master."
Kit obeyed. Though he wanted to protest, he was suddenly tired. Wurdyne watched him as he slept. She took out a bronze dagger that she had nestled in her bosom. "I was surprised that you remembered Baloo," she whispered, knowing that Kit could not hear her. "That means he's probably remembered you."
Wurdyne lifted Kit's wrist. "But I can't guarantee that," she explained. "Yet." Quickly, she slashed at Kit's wrist with the knife. Blood quickly flowed from the wound, and Wurdyne caught it in the vial. Once it was full, she stoppered the vial and wrapped a silken cloth around Kit's hand, staunching the blood. It was quite good that only she knew the proper method of doing things. It would not do to have others questioning her methods.
"This is my guarantee that you will not be forgotten," she whispered, staring at the vial. "If you are forgotten, you will die. And this world will remain as it has for eternity." Wurdyne frowned, and placed the vial into her bag. "That I will not permit." Leaving Kit sleeping peacefully, she exited the room.
Wurdyne's shadow, long and lean, lay before her as she drew her cloak about her and hurried across the streets. Though it was midday, the streets were completely bare and black. She cast her eyes down and drew her cloak across her nose and mouth, protecting it from the thick, acrid smoke that spilled forth from the volcano.
Wurdyne frowned and quickened her step. This was wrong. The volcano, she knew, should not be in such a state. "Not now. Not yet. Sister, what are you doing?" Muttering, Wurdyne fell to her hands and knees and began crawling into a small octagonal hole carved into the side of a mountain. Not being the Lady Shelorna Most High of the Second, she was forbidden from going inside, but Wurdyne didn't care. She simply had to talk to her sister.
Presently the narrow, cramped path gave way to a large, open aired atrium. The darkness of the sky outside meant that the only light that existed in the place came forth from lichens, mosses glowing unnaturally against the cave wall. Wurdyne blinked, and allowed herself time for her eyes to adjust. She nudged a foot forward, and her toes touched something dry and leathery. Curious, she knelt down to inspect it and was rather surprised at the excellent state of composition the corpse remained. She could even see the mark on the chest and throat where the dagger had been plunged in and dragged across, respectively.
I would have thought that he'd be just a pile of bones by now, she thought, a twisted smile playing at the corners of her lips. He's been mummified quite well. They've all been mummified quite well. Too bed their so-called powers haven't lasted as long as their bodies have.
In the center of the room was a tall and slender young girl, who appeared to be fourteen years of age, though Wurdyne knew her age to be only eleven. She ignored Wurdyne as she carefully lifted a dagger up and plunged it forcefully into the chest of one of the mummies. She then bit her lip and stared, thoughtfully, at it.
Wurdyne chortled. "And just what are you doing, sister dear?"
Instinctively, the girl drew in a sharp intake of breath. "You know you're not supposed to be here. This is a sacred area. Since you brought him here, you have become the Despoiled One."
Wurdyne smirked. "I'm only that for three more days. Besides, won't the purification rituals get rid of any so-called bad vibes I might give off?"
Slowly, the girl nodded her head. "Why are you here, Wurdyne?"
"I'm worried about you, Shelorna," Wurdyne said honestly. "I wanted to know what you were doing. You've been acting very strangely."
"Oh, that," said Shelorna, gesturing to the dagger. "I was trying to figure out the best way to kill him. I know, I know!" Shelorna interrupted Wurdyne before she had a chance to say anything. "The sacrifice must be killed by a first a strike to the heart and then a slashing of the throat. But I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about doing it. The way for him to die as quickly as possible, with as little suffering as possible."
"You don't want him to suffer," Wurdyne repeated.
"Of course not!" Shelorna sobbed. "It's not his fault! He's not an evil person! He was just chosen! How could I possibly want him to suffer? It's bad enough he has to die."
"Then don't kill him," Wurdyne suggested. "We'll have somebody else do it this time."
"NO! I am the only one who can give the gods the sacrifice to appease them! You are the only one who can select the sacrifice, and I am the only one who can kill him. Only I can appease the gods."
"You're not doing a very good job at it," Wurdyne said cynically.
Shelorna looked surprised. "What in the world are you talking about? I have carried out my duties faithfully for almost ten—"
"Oh, please sister dear, this land is an absolute mess! How long have we been surviving on cactus berries? How long has it been since the land was fertile enough for us to grow food for livestock? How long has it been since water hasn't been rationed? How long has it been since grass has been green, and not dry and dead and brown? And look outside. The volcano looks like it's about to erupt any minute now, and the sacrifice can't be killed until the Moon is completely new…in three days time. What will you do if the volcano erupts before then?"
"What can I do?" whispered Shelorna helplessly.
"Talk to him," Wurdyne ordered. "Get to know him. Get to know Kit Cloudkicker."
"The sacrifice?" Shelorna was horrified. "I couldn't possibly do that! He doesn't even know himself. You've taken all his memories away from him, so how can I possibly get to know him? What good could it possibly do? It would only cause me pain."
"I took his memories. I haven't taken away his personality. I haven't taken away who he is, inside. You have to get to know him. You have to get to like him, and care for him. Your heart has to break when you kill him."
"Are you crazy?" hissed Shelorna. "What's wrong with you?"
"Perhaps I'm wrong," Wurdyne softly conceded, "But I believe the gods are no longer satisfied with merely a physical sacrifice. I believe they haven't been satisfied for quite some time. Remember when the little Reocale boy died because of the fever? You wept for days. But you've never once had any sort of feelings towards the sacrifices, other than 'I'm sure they were good people, and I must treat them with respect.' If I were a god, I would wonder why your emotions were so much greater for a mere village boy, and not my gift. I would wonder if you only completed the sacrifices because they were easy for you—"
"They're not easy! They're very, very hard. They're so hard, I don't need to talk to him."
"Are they, really? Or are you afraid you'll come to like him? Are you afraid you'll choose him over this land and people? Are you afraid you'll let him escape, and watch as everybody around you dies?"
"No," Shelorna said firmly. "I love this land more than anything. I will never allow this land to be destroyed."
"Then prove it. Try my suggestion. Know him. Care for him. Have the sacrifice mean something. And then, after all is said and done, I'm sure you'll be left with fond memories of him, instead of just a memory of another routine sacrifice."
After a long pause, Shelorna agreed to do as her sister asked. There were no more words exchanged, merely the slightest dipping of her head and aversion of the eyes—signs that Wurdyne knew full well meant that her sister would do as she was told. She kept her face a cool, expressionless mask until her sister had left, when she finally permitted herself a rather large, jovial grin.
"That was easy enough," she said, reaching into her bag to feel the vial filled with Kit's blood. The vial was slightly cool to the touch. And now, my friends, time to get that bear and that pirate to come here and rescue Kit Cloudkicker. I'm going to save you, sister, even if I have to kill every single person here to do it.
To be continued…