Chapter Six
Catra's boots were silent as she made her way into the lab. She stopped for a moment and looked around. She hated this place and its owner. Shadow Weaver wasn't like the other Horde lieutenants. She was too smart to be manipulated over petty things. Shadow Weaver and Catra were actually much alike in that way, but Shadow Weaver had a significant advantage. She held Hordak's trust, something Catra had never achieved. If she was caught snooping around here, the outcome would most likely not be favorable.
Her eyes fell upon the Horde's newest "guest." Sea Hawk was suspended from the ceiling by heavy chains, manacled around his wrists. His bare feet dangled just out of reach of the floor. The Horde was fond of this type of incapacitation - a type of torture that involved no effort on their part. Catra felt a twinge in her chest as she stared at the young man. She had tried not to acknowledge why she had come here, but it was difficult to deny the truth. Despite all the rebuffs of her advances in the past, she still desired him.
She crossed the room silently to stand in front of him. He appeared to be unconscious, but she didn't know if exhaustion or pain was the cause. She looked up once more at the chains. Drying rivulets of blood ran down Sea Hawk's arms. She knew the skin of his wrists, hidden under the manacles, must be torn and raw.
She looked back down, her eye line level with his chest. Sea Hawk was a bit taller than her even in her heels, but, suspended as he was, she had a prime view of his muscled torso. Shadow Weaver had been more careful to remove all his weapons and even much of his clothing. He had been stripped from the waist up, and she found she couldn't help herself. Catra's hand reached out; her fingers trailed gently through the red hair on his chest. Sea Hawk shivered at the touch, his head snapping up to stare at her.
"Catra." His voice was raw and cracked as he spoke.
Her eyes slowly slid up to his face. His close-cropped beard was matted with dried blood which appeared to have run down from his ears and nose. His lips were dry and cracked; he subconsciously attempted to moisten them with an equally dry tongue. His cheeks possessed a hollow cast that only pain can create. Dark circles had settled under his eyes, which were partially obscured by his sweat-soaked hair. A cut through his left eyebrow was swollen, angry and pink, where her claws had caught him in her panther form. Only his eyes themselves remained unchanged. The same green-blue as the ocean he favored. When he turned them on her, they seemed just as fathomless as well. She looked away first.
"Hello, Hawk," Catra purred softly. He hated that she spoke with such familiarity toward him.
Sea Hawk swallowed with difficulty. "Why . . ." his voice cracked again.
She put a finger to his lips. He frowned but didn't attempt to speak again. Catra looked around the lab. She wasn't sure if the dark sorceress actually had to eat or drink as she had never witnessed it, but surely she used water in some of her potions. She spotted a table with various vials on it and moved toward it. There was a basin with what appeared to be water in it. She filled one of the empty vials and returned to where Sea Hawk was suspended. She held the vial up to his lips, but he merely pulled his head back.
"How much worse can it get?" Catra asked him. When he still refused, she shook her head. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just wanted . . . to talk."
He stared into her eyes and this time she didn't look away. Finally, he relaxed his neck and allowed her to help him drink from the vial. After the first swallow, he turned his head away quickly and began to cough. Catra took a step back and stared at the vial. While the coughing continued, she moved to return it to the workbench. Sea Hawk raised his leg to block her path. She turned toward him, and he shook his head as the coughing subsided.
"Please . . ." he whispered, his voice more raw than before. "It's water. Please, may I have another drink?" He didn't like the idea of begging, but, the truth was, he was desperate.
She smiled at his plea. She assisted him with another drink of water, and, this time, he was able to swallow without coughing. She took the vial away after only a few small droughts.
He licked his lips again and stared at her. He needed more but knew she wasn't here to help him. He was, however, also familiar with the old adage about flies and honey. "Thank you," he whispered.
Catra smiled again at his words. He should be hers. Not Shadow Weaver's experiment. Not Hordak's puppet. And most definitely not Despara's lover. She gritted her teeth at the thought.
"Is it true you belong to Despara?" She asked, cocking her head slightly.
He swallowed thickly. "No one owns me. And I don't know a Despara."
Catra snorted. "Just because she calls herself something else now doesn't mean she is someone else."
She watched as he attempted to roll his shoulders but made no attempt to reply.
"Why did you choose Des . . . Adora?"
Sea Hawk stared at her for a long moment before replying. "You mean instead of you."
"Yes," Catra responded, drawing out the "s" into a hiss.
He licked his lips again. "Because I don't love you, Catra, and I never could."
Her eyes widened in surprise.
"You may be physically beautiful, but, inside, you're ugly. Rotten. Your soul is black. No one could ever truly love someone like that."
Her nails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists in anger. She wanted to rage at him, but, deep inside, she knew he spoke the truth. She was corrupted and jealous. Her soul would never be pure. It was why she didn't understand that having someone love you wasn't the same as possessing them.
Sea Hawk watched the anger build and then just as suddenly subside in Catra's face. Then she smiled at him. A smile reserved only for when a big reveal was about to take place.
"You're right. I have done horrible things as a member of the Horde. And perhaps even before. It has been so long, I'm not sure I even remember." Catra paused here and locked her gaze with his. "What I have done has surely blackened my soul, but I have never been Hordak's protégé. Despara consistently performed deeds that shouldn't even be discussed."
"Adora was under a spell!" Sea Hawk protested.
"Was she?" Catra sneered. "She was raised on Despondos by Hordak. She was groomed to be a monster. He didn't need a spell because she wanted to please him. Despara is her true self. The person you claim to know is just a mask."
"You don't know her," his voice was hushed.
"How well do you know her? I don't like her, but I feel certain that I know Despara very well."
Sea Hawk shook his head.
"Why are you still here?" Catra asked suddenly.
"What?" He looked at her confused.
"I overheard Hordak and Shadow Weaver. They know you and Despara are linked by some sort of Etherian magic. Which means, even if Hordak has not issued his demand for Despara's return, she would know you are in danger. Why hasn't she come for you?"
"I don't want her to come here."
"Despara knows the Fright Zone intimately. She has returned on several occasions to aid in the escape of prisoners. Even if she didn't want to come herself, she could send She-Ra. No one stands in her way. And yet, here you hang – bruised, bleeding . . ." She paused for effect.
Sea Hawk swallowed thickly and licked his lips again. Catra was baiting him. He didn't know how much time had passed. There were no windows in Shadow Weaver's lab, and the passage of time was only marked by intervals of incredible pain. His deployment on the Growling Sea made it difficult to form close ties with most members of the Rebellion, but he still considered them his friends. They would not abandon him. And yet, who was left to tell them of his capture? His crew was likely dead. If Adora chose not to tell them or if Hordak had not requested some sort of ransom, then there was no one to rescue him.
Catra stepped closer and slid her palms up his stomach and across his chest. "What did you see in the throne room?"
The vision came unbidden to his mind. "Nothing," he whispered.
"I think you saw yourself as a member of the Horde. And I think Despara was there too." She smiled and stepped back again to look him in the eyes. "Those are Hordak's visions. He doesn't have control of the power, but he has consumed the souls of so many seers that on occasion he can see the future. Somehow you picked up on that."
"I don't have powers." Sea Hawk protested.
"A latent ability, I'm sure. This planet is full of untapped magical powers. But that's not what's important. Despara isn't here because she is waiting. You triggered something in her. She wanted you, and she actually got what she wanted. Once Shadow Weaver completes her spell, you will follow Hordak's every command, just like a good Horde lieutenant. Then Despara can return home and be who she truly is, with you by her side. And both of your souls will be just as black as mine."
Sea Hawk spoke slowly. "That will never happen."
Catra shook her head at his adamant denial. "You have already seen the future."
"No one controls the future."
She looked back up at his arms and wrists. Fresh lines of blood ran down from under the manacles. Even the slightest movement had reopened the wounds.
"Why do you fight? Accept Hordak's offer and pledge yourself to him. All this pain could end, and you could still be yourself."
"I could never be myself if I made that deal. I would rather die free than live a slave."
"You wouldn't be a slave. You would be a member of the Horde – protected, rewarded, revered."
"But still not free." Sea Hawk looked hard at Catra and decided to take a chance. "Hordak owns you. Whatever he promised you, he will never give you. He will use you until one day he doesn't need you anymore."
Catra already knew that. There had already been so many promises that had been broken. There would be no Etheria left for her to rule once conquered. Hordak would consume every useful thing on the planet, leaving behind only a barren shell. Then he would move on to the next planet. Her choice at that point would be to follow him or die. Sea Hawk saw the resignation in her face. She already knew the truth.
"It doesn't have to be like that."
She looked at him with a wry smile.
"Adora walked away. Adora fights for her freedom. For this planet's freedom. So could you."
Catra looked away for a moment.
"Help me, Catra. Please. We can escape together. I'll vouch for you."
She smiled up at him, and it seemed soft and genuine.
"Catra!" A voice from the doorway hissed.
Catra's face hardened. "Shadow Weaver."
"What are you doing in my lab?" The sorceress asked.
"Checking on the prisoner." She smiled wickedly at Sea Hawk. "He still seems as rebellious as ever."
The witch floated by the two and over to the table covered with vials. "Get out of my laboratory so I can work and soon he will not be."
"As you wish," Catra replied. She stepped close and rose up on her toes so her breath blew hot against Sea Hawk's ear. "Sorry, Hawk, but I like my soul black, and I like what I get to do to make it that way. Maybe you will too."
She kissed him softly on the cheek before turning and striding out the door. He watched as her long, black ponytail swished until it faded into the darkness of the hall.
"Now, Captain, shall we begin again?" Shadow Weaver asked.
And then his world erupted in blinding pain once more.