Yo, readers. Thanks to the ninja-tastic peeps who reviewed the last chapter. I liked the feedback. In response to the anonymous reviewer, Scythe, you need to remember that their magic doesn't function well around the wizarding world's. Neither Malik nor Bakura even know the lengths to which this applies, so they need to be careful about where they experiment. Voldemort is pretty much immune to their magic at this point, because he's so saturated in it (it's like a proverbial shield). If Malik were to control a Death Eater, what do you think Voldemort would do? He may attack Yugi. Now as to why they didn't exercise it in the chase scene...well, under pressure, one doesn't always think up the best ways out, do they? Also, it wouldn't have worked anyways, due to how much magic was in the air at that time (what with all the spells the Death Eaters were shooting.)
I hope that clears up your problem. Now, without further ado, onto the chapter!
Chapter Six
Incentive
"You have been disobedient fools," Lucius Malfoy sneered, his wand drawn and held at Malik's throat. Both teens stood with their hands up in surrender, their eyes narrowed, their legs splayed. Everything about them showed that neither was intimidated by the wizard, but they were submitting anyways. "You were to get information from her before you disposed of her, but you did not do that, did you? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end your sorry existences here and now!"
"He sounds mad." Malik said through the link he'd just opened with Bakura. His tone, unlike Lucius Malfoy's, was amused. Malik was actually kind of enjoying the whole situation, but then again, that wasn't saying much. Malik usually enjoyed chaos and madness.
Bakura curbed the desire to roll his eyes, "No, really? Of course he's angry, you fool! Now, let us remedy this unfortunate situation. This isn't the time to be inciting the snake bastard's temper."
"Agreed."
- Perhaps we should try reasoning with him? Let me out, Bakura. I'm a more convincing face than you are. -
"You know, the fact that you two are planning the best way to lie to someone is starting to freak me out. Now I'm wondering just how much of a victim you were at Battle City. Thanks Ryou, now I'm going to have nightmares."
Bakura hissed out an annoyed noise through his spiritual teeth, "Save your lunacy for after we've dealt with the present situation."
"We were not intending to do this." Bakura began carefully, taking necessary measure to keep his voice even. A derisive tone would probably set Malfoy off the edge. "But she insulted my other half. She referred to him as a schizophrenic. Insult to my hikari cannot go unpunished, so I dealt with her."
What a load of bull. In truth, had Ryou been called a schizophrenic, Bakura would probably have laughed at his hikari and made multiple 'voice in your head' references. Like Bakura gave a crap about name calling. No, it would take physical assault or references to Ryou's deceased family to drive Bakura to action against the offender.
Malik's carefully composed expression twitched slightly. Apparently he knew this too, and found it mildly humorous. Well, good for him.
"This will be reported to My Lord." Lucius said in a cold, harsh whisper. As if that was going to intimidate Bakura or Malik. They had spent their free time making fun of the snake bastard. That, or plotting against him.
Malik, ever the budding actor, curled his lip at Lucius, "Fine by me. I'm sure he won't be too displeased, considering the original order was to kill upon sight." Bakura had to hand it to him, Malik was actually a damn fine actor. He had the face down and everything.
Lucius snarled at Malik, angered that he had been proven wrong. "We will see." He said in a low tone before straightening and signaling to the Death Eaters behind him, "Let's take our leave. Those wretched muggles will probably be running out to see what's happened thanks to these two." With one last vicious glare, Lucius apparated away.
Bakura and Malik's eyebrows rose. They didn't know that Malfoy could do something like that. Two Death Eaters approached them, one taking the arm of either of them. Annoyed with the contact, Malik turned to glare at the masked wizard that was holding him.
"What do you think you're doing?" He demanded, his body rigid. Had he been an animal, his hackles would have been raised.
"If you are lucky," The one holding Bakura's arm sneered, "You'll survive this, so shut up and let us do our job."
"Which is?" Bakura ventured.
The one holding Malik blew out a sigh from behind his very tacky skull mask. "What Mr. Malfoy just did, honored guests, was apparate. It's instant transportation to another location. Since we have no time to return to our broomsticks, thanks to the both of you, we have to take this route back to the Manor." He explained. Somehow he managed to sound scathing through the entire short explanation.
"And what was the 'if you're lucky you'll survive this' for? Is this particularly dangerous for non-modern magic users?" Bakura asked. He was not going to do something that would possibly injure his hikari just because these guys were paranoid. Not a chance.
The one holding Bakura was obviously smirking behind his mask, simply due to the tone of his voice, "It's called 'splinching'. You may get there in one piece, or you may be missing a limb or two."
"I'm not going to hurt this body." Bakura said coldly, his eyes flashing menacingly, "Don't ask me to do so."
"Well, you haven't a choice, now do you? Just be quiet and pray that you get there with your little body intact." The one holding Bakura told him, and Bakura could feel the sudden flow of energy around his body, centered around the wizard's navel.
Wonderful.
Malik wasn't looking too pleased either, but the magic had already begun, and they had no choice at this point.
A very painful, very jolting pull at Bakura's stomach ripped him from his thoughts, and it felt like he'd suddenly been shoved down a painful, air-tight tube. It was a little agonizing, he admitted, and he had the oddest sensation that Ryou was planning to throw up. That was wonderful too. Ah, he was going to kill these stupid mortals when they got to their destination.
For the sake of Ryou's limbs, though, he remained entirely still through the duration of the trip.
Bakura knew when the magic was finished, because he felt open air, and his feet were touching solid ground again, instead of that unfamiliar, unwanted feeling like he was standing on something soft and precariously balanced. He also could feel the flow of the modern magic returning to its usual, undetectable state. The air was, once again, saturated in Voldemort's power. They were back at the Malfoy Manor.
Bakura could feel no pain, so he gathered that he was thankfully in once piece. A quick glance at a woozy-looking Malik also assured Bakura that his comrade was in one piece. Since he was absolutely sure at this point that they'd survived without any known problems, Bakura did the first thing that came to mind:
He slugged the Death Eater that was holding onto his arm.
Bakura was not a light puncher. In fact, he had a very good punch and very good aim. Being a thief, he'd known all the right pressure points to knock someone out, but he also knew just how hard you whacked a guy when it was necessary to knock him out. In this case, the idiot deserved it.
The Death Eater went down like a lead weight, totally unconscious.
Malik's Death Eater cried out in shock, and leapt towards Bakura in an effort to avenge his fallen friend. Bakura swung his fist, hitting the man directly in the face. He was satisfied when he heard the cracking sound of a broken nose and the howl of pain that ripped from the man's throat. It was pitiful, really.
The Death Eater ripped off his mask so that he could gingerly hold his broken nose in one hand. Blood streamed down his cheeks and lips. His dark eyes landed viciously on Bakura, "You'll regret this, you foolish boy! You will be punished!"
Bakura snarled at the man, snatching the front of his cloak and pulling him up to eye-level. The Death Eater moaned involuntarily as he was jostled. Bakura was just glad to know that he was in pain. "Listen, you pathetic mortal," Bakura hissed darkly. He made sure that his voice was loud enough for all the Death Eaters present, including Lucius Malfoy, to hear. "The agreement was to follow your Master, and we will follow him. We carried out the plan that was detailed to us directly from him. But you," He shook the man for effect, who groaned again, "You are not exempt from our anger. You are below me. I could kill you, my magic usable or not, so remember that."
"We're both skilled in fighting, and it's not like we haven't killed before." Malik added, looking almost animalistic with the dark smile he was bearing, "I will not hesitate to end the lives of all of you, and both of us will take great pleasure in cutting reminders to not cross us into your skin." Malik reached into his pocket with his uninjured hand and flashed a knife to the small crowd of men and women around them.
Someone started clapping slowly, menacingly, almost. Both Shadow Masters spun around to see Voldemort approaching, the psycho woman walking a few paces behind him, ever the obedient dog. He swept into the room with villainous grace, and stopped a few paces away from the two males. His lips curled up into a smile at the semi-shocked expression on Malik's face and the forced bored one on Bakura's.
- Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no... -
"Shut up, landlord."
"I see that you two are ascertaining your independence. It's nice to see fighting spirits so present in my midst. You entertain me." Voldemort glanced at Bellatrix, who nodded at him and left the room. Before she disappeared around the corner, she inclined her head slightly to grin viciously at Malik and Bakura, but mostly Bakura. Whatever their silent exchange had meant, it couldn't have been good.
Voldemort's face shifted instantaneously from a patronizing smile to a disappointed frown, "Regardless, you need to be disciplined. Attacking my Death Eaters and going against Lucius's orders is attacking and disobeying me in turn. That is unforgivable."
"We're sorry for disobeying you. It wasn't intentional. But she did insult his host, and he acted as such." Malik pled, hoping that it would prevent whatever the psychotic Bellatrix Lestrange was off to go do.
"Questioning my authority is not going to help you." Voldemort sneered, smiling again, "But I applaud the valiant attempt."
Malik bit his bottom lip, obviously trying very hard not to make a snappy comeback. Bakura was concerned too. What in the world could the snake-bastard possibly be planning? It definitely had something to do with the two of them, but more specifically him, or even Ryou.
"Bellatrix, come back inside." Voldemort instructed, glancing briefly at the closed door.
It was opened with a loud creak, and clanged against the wall. Beside the psycho-woman was a sickly looking man. His hair was barely a shade darker than Ryou's, with a slight bluish hue. His skin was pale, and he sported a very painful looking bruise on his face from where someone must have hit him. He looked up, and his eyes were misty with obvious agony. It was an easy guess that he'd been tortured.
Ryou's emotions swarmed Bakura's mind, and he felt himself pushed roughly and violently back into his soul room with Ryou's agonized horror. Ryou fell to his knees, and Malik grabbed his shoulder to steady him. Malik's eyes were wide and his nostrils flared. How dare they do such a thing?
"No..." Ryou whispered, and tears sprung to his eyes, "F-Father..."
Recognition sparked in the injured man's eyes, and shock mixed with the pain in his deep chocolate gaze, "Ryou? What are you doing here?" He asked in a cracked voice, his chapped lip splitting and bleeding with the sudden use of his voice.
"How long have you had him here?" Malik asked quietly, unable to look at Ryou. Or maybe he was looking at Ryou. All Ryou knew was that he couldn't breathe. It was like his insides were on fire. Was this what shock felt like? He could feel the familiar sense of another consciousness brushing against his barrier of emotions with evident concern. Bakura was worried about him. Bakura was worried because he could no longer sense anything from his landlord.
Ryou's uncontrollable, overwhelming tidal wave of emotions was forcing Bakura's usually dominant presence into the background, while Ryou writhed in pain in the foreground.
Bakura could do nothing. When Ryou's emotions were so unstable, he couldn't do anything to regain control; he couldn't do anything that wouldn't damage his light.
Malik was starting to look slightly panicked also, because the still-linked connection between the two Shadow Masters was forcing Malik to endure the torrent of emotions spilling from Ryou's tortured mind.
It could only have been a second since Malik had spoken, not hours as it had felt for the three young men. Lucius was answering Malik's question with an apathetic tone, "He hasn't been here as long as you have. We captured him a few days ago."
Voldemort waved a hand to silence Lucius, "I knew that you would be very hard to reign in. After all, I cannot have subordinates without need or cause to be allied with me. Therefore, I decided to bring your father in as a guest to provide…incentive for you to obey me."
"You sick bastard." Malik hissed, wincing as another wave of incomprehensible emotion rolled over his mind. It was making it hard for him to concentrate.
"Let us show you," Voldemort sneered, "Why you cannot address me in such an insubordinate fashion, you street grunge." He waved a long, pale hand in Bellatrix's general direction, "If you may, Bellatrix?"
She smiled in contempt at Ryou and Malik, both of whom had snapped to attention upon Voldemort's threat. Ryou's mind was suddenly oddly blank, and Malik was feeling woozy and disoriented from the instantaneous shift. Bellatrix raised her wand and pointed it at the side of Ryou's father's head, and cocked her head to the side, her eyes moving towards the man in sadistic curiosity.
"Crucio." She said simply, and the one simple word ripped an agonized scream from Mr. Bakura's throat. It was met with a shriek of Ryou's, a plea for them to stop.
"No!" Ryou cried out, and Malik had to restrain him to stop him from doing something stupid that could result in furthering his father's injuries, "Please, no! Leave him be! He has nothing to do with this, he doesn't know anything, he doesn't know anything…" His last words were a sorrowful whimper.
Bellatrix flicked her wand away from Mr. Bakura's head, and the man's screams cut off. His unconscious body slumped to the floor, his head hitting the ground with a painful crack. Malik scrambled to check his mind, and was relieved that there was no damage. He relayed this information to Ryou, but Ryou was barely aware of anything but his father at that time.
Ryou broke down into tears at the prone form of his father, and Bellatrix's cruel laughter rung out as a supplement for the screaming of a few moments prior. Bakura, from inside the Ring, was seething with rage. Had he eyes at that time, he would have been seeing red. There was a wrinkle of Shadow Energy present, trying to meet its furious master, but coming up short. It was unreachable in Voldemort's presence.
All of the Death Eaters, sensing the murderous aura emanating from Ryou's body and the sudden drop in temperature, seemed to shiver. Well, aside from Voldemort and the still giggling Bellatrix, of course.
"Now that the proper punishment has been dealt," Voldemort stated, bringing all attention back to him solely, "Bellatrix, return Mr. Bakura to his lodgings and assure that he is nursed back to consciousness under Narcissa's care."
She nodded and dragged Mr. Bakura's body out of the room. Ryou shivered in Malik's hold and went totally limp. Ryou had fainted. There was a slight stirring in Ryou's body, and his eyes snapped open, now a vibrant, blood tainted red. Bakura was standing in an instant, shrugging off Malik's warning hold.
Unlike how Malik had thought Bakura would respond, the spirit remained silent. He glared at Voldemort, who ignored the obvious display of hatred. Malik felt a swell of killer intent, and hissed a quiet caution to his comrade.
Malik's mind was so scrambled right now, he could barely concentrate on reality at hand. He broke off the connection with Bakura, drawing a blank glance, but a glance nonetheless, from the spirit. The glassy look to Malik's usually lively violet eyes spoke volumes to Bakura, and he planned to do something in apology. It was bad enough that his light had gone through that, but now all three minds were disoriented, which wasn't a good thing.
"The both of you will spend the remainder of the evening and night in young Draco Malfoy's room. He will escort you to the express train to Hogwarts in the morning. You may purchase clothing and other necessities in the muggle London before the train's leave." Voldemort instructed, that menacing smile back. Bakura wanted to punch that smile right off of that smug bastard's face. "Now go, I have matters to attend to. Lucius, take them to your son's room and return to me immediately."
"Yes, Master." Lucius murmured, ever the obedient dog, just like the psycho-lady.
Malik and Bakura walked silently after Lucius. They didn't have anything to say to Voldemort. After Ryou's breakdown, they had likely lost all respect they may have attained that afternoon, and though Ryou's outburst was well justified, it lost them ground also. There was just no win-win situation when you were trapped in a war like this, especially when it was one that you were in total dark about.
They were as uninformed as the happy non-magic mortals that roamed the London streets, only they weren't at constant risk like Malik and Bakura. They had not yet been pulled forcibly into a war they had nothing to do with.
Malik really could have used one of Yugi's pick-me-up speeches, because he was feeling like total shit.
They walked for a good ten minutes across the wide expanse of the giant mansion. Finally they stopped at a wooden door, where Lucius indicated for them to enter.
"You harm my son in any way, I will kill both of you." Lucius warned. It was all he had to say, and with a meaningful glare, he spun on his heel and left.
Malik opened the door and peered inside. Sitting in a comfortable armchair inside the giant bedroom that was more like a living room and a bedroom in size and furnishing, was a young replica of his father, sneer and all.
"So you're the filthy new prisoners that our Lord has taken an interest in." The boy cast one appraising eye over the two exhausted, defeated forms of Malik and Bakura before sniffing and returning to the book in his hands, "You don't look like much."
Malik snorted, leaning against the wall and sagging to the floor, "Spare me."
"Excuse me?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at the deadpan, blatantly disrespectful way that Malik addressed him. Apparently he was used to people kissing his boots and sucking up to him on a daily basis. Too bad for him, then.
"You heard me." Malik murmured, not really interested with coming up with any sort of witty retort. It just wasn't worth it. He was far too drained.
Bakura slid down the wall beside Malik, silently. He rested his elbows on his knees, bowing his head. His long white hair fell in a crown, obscuring his face from view.
"Tell me your names." Draco demanded, returning to his book. "I want to know the names of the two I'll be guiding around at least."
"Malik Ishtar, if you must know." Malik replied, a biting edge to his voice. The razor sharpness was evident of his usual spirited arguing skills, but it had a tired side to it also. It was obvious that Ryou's outburst earlier had taken a drastic toll on his body, mind, and spirit…and his nerves.
Draco rolled his eyes, unimpressed with the vicious response. "And yours?" He asked Bakura.
Bakura didn't respond. In fact, Bakura didn't even acknowledge that he'd heard. His body didn't even shift in the slightest of ways, aside from a steady, even breathing rate.
"What, are you deaf and ugly? Tell me your name, I said!" Draco looked affronted now, and was bristling slightly at Bakura having so totally ignored him.
"Shut up," Malik hissed, and Draco's jaw snapped shut automatically from the force behind Malik's words, "He's meditating. I'm sure you're already well aware that Bakura is the ancient spirit dwelling within my friend Ryou's body. I'm sure you also know that Ryou's father was taken captive, and you doubtlessly heard the commotion that went on downstairs. With all that knowledge, I'm sure a smart, slimy little bastard like you can figure out that we're both drained to the brink of our ability to stay conscious. Bakura also needs to console his other half. Ryou is in total shambles right now. Even though you're the son of an apathetic shit, you can at least practice a form of empathy by leaving Bakura alone."
Draco's face swelled as if he were about to say something mean, but there was a spark of understanding behind those fierce eyes, and he calmed down. "What about you, then?" He asked in a quieter tone that was sympathetic towards Bakura's need for silence, "Shouldn't you be meditating or whatever?"
Malik shook his head. If he was going to be stuck with this kid, he probably might as well tell him a thing or to. Besides, he was so drained that his filter was not in check at all, "I don't have another half, so I'm not suffering the strain of two minds being sucked of their energy."
"How are you losing your energy?" Draco fired off, his book forgotten in his lap. He appeared interested now.
Malik shrugged slightly, "Our magic wires itself within our emotional systems. It is used mostly through how we feel. If we love someone, our magic will reach out to protect them, but it is more powerful with negative emotions, that allow it to torture and kill." Draco barely concealed his own little shudder at that revelation, "Regardless, the constant connection between our magic and our feelings makes it impossible to turn off. It would be like casting a never-ending spell for you. Our energy is drained on a twenty-four hour basis. We sleep to regain what little of it we can. Essentially, it will be our magic that kills us, and nothing else."
"That's…harsh." Draco said, unable to really think up anything else in response to Malik's explanation.
Malik shook his head, frowning in frustration, "I don't know you. I don't know that you're not going to squeal to your daddy, who will squeal to your 'Master'. I shouldn't be telling you this. I'm tired, I'm drained, I'm going to bed."
"My father had extra cots put it for the both of you." Draco indicated the two small, neatly made beds off to the far end of the sitting area. They were in the furthest corner from Draco's own bed.
Malik nodded tiredly, a silent thank you, and pulled Bakura's arm around his neck to haul him up.
"The…fuck do you want…now…Malik?" Bakura slurred, groaning quietly.
"You're going to sleep in a bed, Bakura. I don't care if you've 'slept in worse'." He spoke with finality, and Bakura didn't respond. He allowed Malik to drag him over to the cots and dump him on one.
Bakura didn't even bother to pull on the covers or take off his shoes before he fell asleep, his back to the rest of the room and his front to the wall.
Malik rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed, taking the time to take his own shoes off. He slipped into the covers, not really caring that Draco was watching with the eyes of an ever-present hawk.
"Night." Draco Malfoy said absently, the force of a habitual politeness. He didn't notice the almost-friendly way of treating his two guests, and returned to his book.
Little did any of the four unsuspecting minds inside that quiet bedroom know, that even though the two separate parties barely knew each other, they would soon become dependent upon a precariously balanced alliance that would determine survival for all of them.
End of Chapter
Neh, if that last paragraph wasn't painfully obvious foreshadowing, then I don't know what is. (shrugs) Well, I tried to make it a longer update. Tell me if you enjoyed. The wheels are really getting movin' now, and they'll be off to Hogwarts in chapter seven.
Drop a review on your way out, please!