No Happy Endings- Pleading voice I'm sorry!!! Please forgive me!!! Bows I'll try to update more often!!
Phyllis Nodrey- We'll see if I end up with a pairing. I'm glad you like it so far!
Feye Morgan- Hey, you're back! Yea! Your reviews are always so helpful!
Zero-no-uta- Thank you!
Kou-Kagerou- Yeah, the colors were fun to write. The rain, too. I think I got a little carried away with the imagery again. About getting sick when it rains…I've never thought about it that way before, when it DOES rain it's pretty warm here. Arias is worried that Dilandau will get sick 'cause it's an old wives' tale, and he believes old wives.
A/N to everybody: I'M SOOOOOOORYYYYYY!!! Ryuugekitai kneeling bow I'm sorry I haven't updated all summer! Please forgive me! I won't even explain what I've been doing, but I'm sorry!!! Send me e-mails and poke me with sticks if I do it again!
Okay, on with the story. I'm afraid this chapter isn't that great, it's a lot of minor things that have to happen to get to the cool, plot-building stuff in chapter 11…which I HAVE started on.
Chapter 10- The Search Continues
ooooo
Folken stared at the ceiling as Van continued to shout, "Hitomi! Hitomi!"
"I have never…" Folken lowered his gaze, thoughtful. "Only once before have I ever seen this happen."
Van turned on him. "Seen what happen? What did you do?"
"I? I did nothing." Folken raised his hand in a gesture reminiscent of the pillar of light rising. "What you saw, my brother, was fate."
"Fate!" Van tossed his head. "Right. Fate. You really think I'm that gullible?"
Folken shook his head. "I didn't think you would understand." No, how could he have expected Van to be able to grasp it all so quickly? It had taken him a month to fully understand all of Zaibach's plans, and he had viewed them with an open and eager mind. Was this the way it was to be, then? Would the ideals of two brothers tear Gaea in half?
Not necessarily. Just because Van refused to listen to him now did not mean that Van would always do so. Folken had given Van a lot to think about this day, and he shock that Van's elder brother still lived had probably not even hit yet. Everything Van had learned today would continue to sit in the back of his mind, and perhaps it would change him. Either I make you one of us, or I destroy you, Brother, and destroying you is something I cannot do.
Folken glanced at the Escaflowne. Search for Dilandau, but keep his eyes open for the Dragon, Dornkirk had said. But if they took the Escaflowne now, Van would never come to Zaibach save to take it back, and Folken was certain that the Escaflowne would prove more useful if it had Van to pilot it. For the time being, it would stay here.
"My offer for you to join us remains extended, should you care to accept it in the future," Folken said. Van gave no reply. Folken turned and descended the steps from the Escaflowne's platform.
"Brother!" Van shouted, "where are you going now?" Folken paused and looked back over his shoulder.
"I return to my fortress to direct the search for Commander Albatou," Folken told him. Van rested a hand on the pommel of his sword.
"And to direct a few of your soldiers to search in here and to take the Escaflowne?"
"Commander Albatou is our tool with which to find the Dragon. Without him, how can we even begin to find the Escaflowne?" Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, Van? We're not coming after you yet, not until we have Dilandau back. Folken lowered his gaze with a quiet sigh, and he swept out of the guymelef storehouse.
Van stared at the spot where his brother had just stood, and his face softened. "Folken…"
Allen folded his arms and watched with satisfaction as the last of the search parties disappeared into the forest. The lumbering footsteps of Castelo's guymelefs shook the ground, but it was the high-pitched whine from Zaibach's—Alseides units, they called them?—that vibrated the leaves on the trees. It was a shame that the king had not included the sharing of technology in Asturia's treaty with Zaibach. The rest of Gaea had so much to learn from them.
And, speaking of Zaibach, where had the Strategos gone off to? Allen could not picture him combing through the woods on foot with the common soldiers. Returned to his floating fortress, then? Perhaps Zaibach had some sort of wondrous instrument that might detect Commander Albatou from the sky? No, Allen had not seen any ship return to the fortress.
Out of the corner of his eye Allen spied a flash of black, and turned his head in time to see the Strategos emerge from the guymelef storehouse. No! What had he been doing in there? Surely he had seen the Escaflowne! Though all of Castelo's soldiers were out in the forest now, a good number of Zaibach's troops sill remained. Did the Strategos come now to signal the attack? Did he carry a naked weapon beneath that cloak, with which to dispatch Castelo's leader now? Allen tensed, at the same time trying to appear casual, in case his fears proved to be rooted in nothing, or if he needed to catch the Strategos off-guard. Spotting him, the Strategos angled his steps to intersect Allen's.
"Sir Allen," he said, nodding his head in greeting. "I must admit, I am unused to such forests and buildings as these. In my attempt to return here, I fear I managed to get myself quite lost," he explained, a note of apology in his voice. "One of your men graciously pointed me in the correct direction."
Well, it sounded like a legitimate excuse, for one who had never been in a forest before. Allen had a hard time believing that the Strategos of Zaibach had never seen a forest, though. "Have you no trees in your country?" Allen questioned, hoping that his curiosity had not come out sounding as sarcasm. The Strategos seemed amused by the inquiry, at least, though he did not smile.
"Certainly we have trees, Sir Allen, but our soil is not very fertile, and they are only half the height of these and must grow twice as thick to support themselves," the Strategos answered, walking up to a tree, laying a hand upon its trunk and gazing up into its branches. "Never will you see more than two or three together, for one exhausts the ground around it enough as it is. If I could wave my hand and change my country by a thought, I would first grow more trees across it."
Allen smiled. How could he have suspected treachery of a man who spoke so passionately about trees? He could see the longing for the spreading, green branches in the Strategos's eyes! He had no way of knowing that Folken's mind had gone back in time to a place not so very long past that had once been called the Emerald of Gaea.
"Tell me more about this Commander Albatou," Allen spoke, sensing that the Strategos had begun to feel more comfortable with his strange surroundings and thereby more likely to open up. "What sort of a man is he? I have heard his name spoken before, yet he is only a commander—his skill must be amazing, for tales of him to reach this far."
A smile tugged at the corner of the Strategos's mouth. "What sort of man is he? I have described him to you physically; do you have a scale and a chart upon which you rate men, Sir Knight?"
Allen blinked and tried to consider how to answer the question. What a deep thinker Zaibach had to lead it! The man could turn anything into philosophy!
"That's not what I meant at all, Strategos," Allen replied. "I merely wish to know more of this man."
The Strategos left the tree and returned to Allen with his mysterious, gliding walk and inaudible footsteps. "He is no man at all," the Strategos told him. "He is a boy whom we have transformed into a man. He is more filled with life than any I have ever met, and he channels it into everything he does. It shines from his eyes and it flows from his sword, and that is why you have heard his name, be he only a commander. I know not what he loves, and I am not even certain that it is his country which holds him so enthralled." The Strategos cast a glance back over his shoulder at Allen. "Whatever it is, he would give his life for it. Such is the one we seek; I am grateful to call him my ally instead of my enemy." The Strategos tilted his head. "I return to my fortress, Sir Knight. On behalf of the Zaibach Empire, I thank you again for your aid." He stepped up, and a black door slid down between them, and after a moment the small airship rose gently into the sky to return its passenger to the Vione.
Allen sighed. If someone had told him that the word "enigma" had been invented to describe that man, he would not have hesitated to believe it. He turned—
--and nearly tripped over the young man planted behind him. "Van!" he gasped, catching himself before he knocked Van over. "By Jichia, why do you stand so close?"
"I wanted your undivided attention," Van answered, blunt, short, and straightforward as usual. Had he been born with that scowl upon his face? Allen hadn't seen it leave, yet—but, then, Van had watched his entire country burn to the ground only a few days before.
"Well, you have it. What's wrong?" Allen pushed a gloved hand back through his hair. "No, let me rephrase that. What new is wrong?" He had no desire to hear a list of every complaint Van could bring to mind and how each of those somehow linked back to the Zaibach Empire.
"Hitomi is gone," Van told him. Allen started. Now, that was a problem. Allen glanced about, then gestured for Van to follow him and strode briskly to the guymelef storehouse. He closed the door behind Van.
"What do you mean, Hitomi is gone?" Allen questioned, his voice soft to complicate eavesdropping. "Was she kidnapped? Did she run away? 'Gone' doesn't tell me much." Van gritted his teeth, glaring Allen straight in the eye.
"If she had been kidnapped, I would have said 'Hitomi was kidnapped.' If she ran away, I would have said 'Hitomi ran away.' She's gone, Allen, gone! The same pillar of light that took us away from Fanelia picked her up!"
Allen gripped Van by the shoulders. "You're certain, Van?" Van shrugged him off.
"That pillar of light isn't really something you mistake for something else. It picked her up, just like it did before." Van clenched a fist. "And I'd bet everything I have that Zaibach was behind it!" Allen heaved a great sigh of exasperation and clamped down upon the urge to roll his eyes and throw his arms up in the air. Such behavior did not accord with the code of conduct of the Heavenly Knights—maybe in casual companionship, but not when addressing a king, even a king such as this.
"Zaibach again!" he exclaimed, "Zaibach again! You have an obsession, Van, do you know that? How could the Zaibach Empire possibly have created a pillar of light to spirit people away? Explain that to me, and I might consider your claims!"
Van set his jaw in that stubborn expression Allen had begun to recognize, the one that meant he would back down for no man. "How did they create guymelefs that can become invisible?" he countered.
He backed his unproven arguments with more unproven arguments? "We do not know that it was Zaibach that attacked your country, Van, remember that," Allen reminded him, calm returning to his voice.
Van took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and after he let it out slowly, the fires had cooled in the muddy-amber orbs. "Zaibach has many wondrous technologies," he said with what sounded to Allen as forced calm. "I've never seen guymelefs fly like theirs can. I've seen them in battle—or, rather, I haven't seen them—and I've never seen anything like it before. Their weapons are amazing. If they can make their guymelefs fly, they can probably make them disappear too, and if they can make guymelefs that can fly and disappear, I doubt it would be hard for them to create a pillar of light."
Van watched and waited for Allen's reply, and the Knight mulled over his statements. When Van bothered to take the time to think things over and lay them out clearly, he could come up with some surprisingly bright and solid arguments. Allen nodded slowly. "You have a point," he admitted. He took Van by the shoulders, to ensure that he held the young man's full attention. "But we cannot act upon those points until we know that Zaibach is behind these strange events, and we cannot hold Zaibach responsible until we have solid, unquestionable proof. Do you understand why I'm saying this? You wouldn't want to endanger my country as well, would you?"
With those words, Van seemed to wilt. "No, I wouldn't," he agreed. "I'll let it go for now, then, but I will not drop it!"
"That will do," Allen told him. Van nodded, his face a mask of reluctance.
"But we still have to do something about Hitomi. We have to find her, we can't just leave her out there!
"What do you want me to do, Van?" Allen questioned. "We don't even know where to start looking; we can't try to carry out a search for Hitomi and Commander Albatou at the same time."
"You say that you can't do it, but you may just have to find a way!"
Allen opened his mouth to reply, but a brilliant flash of white from behind the both of them saved him from the need to come up with a solution that would satisfy both Van and himself. They turned in time to see a pillar of light dissolve and fade, leaving behind a stunned Hitomi whose dripping clothes and plaster hair made puddles on the packed-dirt floor.
"Hitomi!" Allen exclaimed, and he rushed to her side immediately. "Good heavens, Hitomi, where have you been, you're soaked to the bone!" Hitomi shivered, hugging herself for warmth, for though the air was not cold, wet clothes had a chilling factor.
"I-I don't know," she answered, looking up at him. "I was in a forest—it reminded me a little bit of Fanelia."
"Fanelia?" Van asked, joining them. Hitomi nodded.
"It was a big forest, and it was autumn there."
"Autumn?" Van screwed up his face. "It's not autumn, it's summertime!"
"Well, I know it's summertime here", Hitomi retorted, "but it was autumn there! The leaves were turning colors, and-"
Hitomi gasped as a bolt of lightning flashed in her mind, and images swirled to vivid life. The Zaibach guymelefs, the invisible giants she had seen in Fanelia, marched across a burning ruin that she could just recognize as Castelo. Fifteen voices whispered, some with triumph, others with worry, but their words she could not discern. The wind blew hot, then cold, until all ground to a stop like an unwound clock. The shadow of a dragon flitted across the ground from overhead, and a great roar broke through the still air. The ground beneath her shattered, and she fell, all around her going black as she screamed. A burst of white pierced the darkness, and an angel swooped down from the heavens, stretching out a well-muscled arm to catch her hand with a shadowed smile…
Hitomi swayed, her eyes half-lidded, and toppled. "Hitomi!" Allen gasped, catching her and lowering her gently to the ground. He pressed a hand to her forehead. Even through his glove, he could feel the heat upon his fingers. "She has a bad fever," he observed, looking up at Van. How had Hitomi gotten so ill without anyone noticing? Wherever the pillar of light had taken her, did she catch some mysterious malady there? Allen lifted her as easily as a child-for she was but a child.
"Do you have a healer?" Van questioned. Allen shook his head.
"Castelo is too small for Asturia to send her a resident healer. I will care for Hitomi." Van frowned.
"Do you know how to do that?" he asked, doubt's suspicious notes ringing clearing his tone.
"Of course. I used to care for my sister all the time," Allen answered, turning to leave. "And keep yourself out of trouble, Van!" he called back over his shoulder.
Van watched the back door swing shut, and he rested a hand on his hip. "Keep myself out of trouble!" he snorted.
When Hitomi's eyes flickered open, the first thing she saw was the back of Allen's head, his golden hair shining with the golden light of the sunset that poured in through the window. She heard water splashing, as though in a fountain—though she could see a basin past his elbow on the table—and he turned around, a damp cloth in his hands. "Ah, you're awake!" he exclaimed, folding the cloth neatly and pressing it to her forehead. Hitomi glanced from the cloth to the blankets that covered her and suppressed a giggle. Was he trying to cool her down, or sweat the fever out? She couldn't tell! "You gave us a bit of a scare back there," he continued, shaking droplets of water from his fingers. Hitomi pulled the covers up over her nose sheepishly.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It wasn't anything you could control." Allen smiled and pulled the blanket back down to uncover her face.
"Okay, I'm not sorry."
"That's better." Allen sat back in his chair. "Where did the pillar of light take you, Hitomi?"
Hitomi shrugged, difficult to accomplish lying down. "We were in a big forest. I don't know where we were; it was pretty, though."
Allen frowned and sat up straighter. "We? There was someone there with you?"
"Yeah," Hitomi answered. "When the light put me down, there was a man there. I think he lived somewhere in the forest."
"I wonder if this pillar of light took Commander Albatou to the same place it took you?" Allen mused. "It would explain his mysterious disappearance; it's hard to kidnap a soldier like the Strategos makes him out to be, and it's hard to run away from a floating fortress. What did this man look like?" Hitomi glanced away.
"I-I had trouble telling. His face and arms and feet were all wrapped in bandages, like he was a leper or something. But he couldn't have been Commander Albatou. He had blonde hair and brown eyes, and he told me that he was a slave there. And he was blind."
"Blind?" Allen seemed to relax. "No, then he couldn't have been Commander Albatou. Allen stared at the wall, thinking for a moment; then he srugged it off and reached out to grasp Hitomi's hand. "I'm just glad we have you back safe, Hitomi."
Hitomi stared out the window at the moon and the Mystic Moon in the sky. "I wonder if my family has noticed I'm gone?"
"I'm sure they have," Allen answered her.
"I wonder if they're worried about me? If they miss me?" Hitomi continued.
"I'm certain they do," Allen assured her. Hitomi looked at him, and after a pause he continued. "When I was young, my little sister was spirited away without a trace. There hasn't been a day yet that I haven't missed and worried about her. So, I'm certain that your family misses you, too." Hitomi blinked inquisitively.
"I didn't know that you had a little sister, Allen."
"Oh, yes." Now it was Allen's turn to gaze out the window at the orange clouds in the pink sky. "She was a darling little thing, with a head full of curls and big, blue eyes. She loved flowers, just like my mother. Mother was such a beautiful woman." Allen looked back to Hitomi. "If my sister is still alive somewhere, she'll be about your age, Hitomi."
His eyes look so sad, Hitomi thought, snuggling down deeper into the blankets. Allen chuckled softly.
"I wonder why I'm telling you about my family? I never talk about my past like this. I must be boring you to death."
"No!" Hitomi exclaimed, sitting up. The cloth fell from her forehead to her lap with a plop. "I mean…" she flushed red, and Allen could not tell whether the color came from embarrassment or fever. "You're not boring. I'm glad that you trust me enough to tell me about your family."
Allen smiled at her comment, and turned his gaze back to the window. Celena had disappeared on a day just like this, with the long grass swaying in the warm breeze, and the sun setting over the mountains and filling the air with a golden light. "Mother was so very beautiful," he said softly.
The guymelefs returned to the hangar like blue shadows spewed forth by the black night, and the clanking and clanging of the docking equipment reverberated angrily through the cold room, echoing the angry chatter of the pilots as they emerged from the machines.
"Damn it all again!" exclaimed Dalet, ever the blunt one, tossing his sweat-damp hair back out of his face. He skipped the last rungs of the ladder and dropped to the floor. "Dammit!" he repeated, straightening, planting his hands on his hips, a look of satisfaction on his face upon uttering the profanity.
"Wouldn't surprise me if someone was," Viole observed mournfully, stepping down from his ladder. "Damning us, I mean. This is the second day that we've searched for Lord Dilandau, and nothing!" Dalet nodded, frustration again contorting his momentary calm. He let out a shout of rage and, whirling around, kicked his ladder, the impact of his steel boot putting a dent in the last rung.
"Watch that!" Gatti called over, "if we damage any more equipment we're paying for it ourselves, remember?" Dalet scowled.
"When did that start?"
"When Lord Folken found out about that railing you and Migel broke and then 'forgot' to report!"
Migel, just now opening his Alseides, snickered. "You have to admit, Gatti, the look on that maid's face was priceless when she leaned against the railing and it just fell off!"
"Needless to say, you got us all in trouble!" Gatti hopped down from his ladder and glanced around. "Hey, has Guimel come back yet? I don't see him—GUIMEL!" he called.
"Help!" Came the muffled reply from one of the Alseides units, "help me! I'm stuck!"
"Not again!" Gatti ascended the ladder to Guimel's guymelef. Taking a moment to find his footing, he dug his fingers into the seam of the opening. "You've got to get this fixed, Guimel!"
"I know!"
"I'll pull, you push. Ready? Go!" Gatti braced himself with a foot against the Alseides's shoulder and pulled with all his might on the stuck hatch, and it popped open, knocking him over.
"Yikes!"
"Aieeee!"
Gatti tumbled backwards as Guimel fell forwards, and both landed in an unceremonious heap on the floor. Migel applauded with vigor.
"Bravo! Bravo! What a landing!" Dalet elbowed him.
"Why are you so happy? Lord Dilandau is missing, and you're cracking jokes! How typical!" Migel held up a finger.
"That's because I've found something almost as good as Lord Dilandau!"
Chesta leaned against the hangar's doorway, looking up at the sky, his cheek pressed to the cold metal. "The wind sounds like it's singing," he said softly. "Can you hear it? It sounds like it's singing." Gatti joined him at the edge and listened. True enough, he almost thought he could hear a soft voice in the whistling air. La, ra, la, ra, la, ra, over and over. Gatti looked up.
"There's a balcony right over us, Chess. I'll bet there's a maid u there. Narise always sings when she cleans. Gets on my nerves sometimes." Chesta followed Gatti's gaze.
"Yeah, I guess you're right. That does sound like her voice."
Migel clapped his hands, the sound muffled by his gloves. "Everyone, come here! I've got something important to share! Come on, come on!" The Dragon Slayers ceased their milling about and gathered in a circle around Migel.
"Did you find something about Lord Dilandau?" Viole asked, his voice hopeful.
"Unfortunately, no," Migel told him. Every face in the circle fell. "But, guess what I did find?" Dalet pressed his forefingers to his temples, closing his eyes.
"Just a moment, let me use my magical psychic powers to read your mind." He opened his eyes and gave Migel a mild glare, letting his hands fall to his hips. "Just tell us, Migel!"
"Okay, okay!" Migel rubbed his hands together with glee. "While the Castelo soldiers were running around trying to get organized, I sneaked a peek in their guymelef storehouse." Chesta gasped.
"Is that in the bounds of our treaty? What if someone saw you?" Migel waved him off.
"Asturia has already broken our treaty, anyway."
"They have?" Gatti asked, puzzled. "How? What did you find in there?" Migel beckoned them all in close, nearly bouncing with excitement.
"I saw the White Guymelef!" he whispered. The fourteen other Dragon Slayers reeled back."
"The White Guymelef?"
"The one we saw in Fanelia! The one the king pilots!"
"The one that damaged two of our Alseides!" Gatti held up a silencing hand.
"How does that mean that Asturia has broken our treaty?" he questioned.
"They're hiding the White Guymelef from us, right?" Migel reasoned.
"Well…yeah, but how do they know that we want it?"
"They know we're engaged in 'urgent military maneuvers,' they know we're looking for Lord Dilandau and Lord Dilandau is here to find a dragon, so they can put two and two together and figure out that we're looking for a dragon, right?"
"I guess so."
"The White Guymelef is the dragon, Gatti!" Migel finished triumphantly. "In the country of dragons, it and its pilot rule over all the others! It's the head dragon!"
"But, it's not a dragon, it's a guymelef," Guimel pointed out. Migel knocked him in the head.
"Can't you think figuratively?"
Gatti glanced at the ceiling, working through Migel's logic. "I suppose that does make sense…"
"We should capture the dragon and make Lord Dilandau proud when he gets back!" Viole cried, punching a fist in the air.
"Yeah! For Lord Dilandau!" the other boys chorused. Migel looked to Gatti.
"What do you say?" Gatti set his face into an expression of determination, and he smacked a fist into his open palm.
"For Lord Dilandau, we capture the dragon tonight!"
Not even an hour later, tree blue Alseides units dropped down silently from the Vione, landed gently, and immediately cloaked themselves. Two would remove the Escaflowne from its place in the guymelef storehouse and carry it back to the floating fortress. The third bore two more Dragon Slayers, carrying one in each hand, and it would serve as passage back up both for the soldiers and their prisoners.
"Don't forget, I'll be waiting by the trees," Chesta whispered, setting Gatti and Migel down on the ground. They nodded, and as Chesta retreated they crept their way to Castelo. Both had taken off their armor—it made too much noise for such stealth missions—and had instead swathed themselves in all black. Too, they had left behind their normal swords, taking instead shorter ones, straight-bladed and single-edged, the sheath and hilt painted dull black.
"Where should we start?" Migel whispered, his voice muffled by the cloth that covered his nose and mouth.
"For one, pick a window that doesn't have light in it," Gatti whispered back, crouching in the shadows and making his way along Castelo's wooden wall.
"This looks as good as any." Migel straightened slowly, raising his head until he could just peer over the sill of the window.
"All clear?"
"All clear."
Migel tested the edge of the window with his gloved fingers, and it swung open easily. "Damn, how careless is that?"
"Good for us, though."
The two slipped into a room with all the trappings of a kitchen around it—pots hanging from the ceiling, dishes stacked on shelves, ovens and stoves freshly swept of coals. A shaft of light from the doorway cut through the darkness, and this they avoided, ducking down low and hiding under a long table.
"Top floors usually house the sleeping quarters," Gatti mused. "We'll probably find him there." He started to move, but Migel caught hold of his sleeve.
"Wait!" he hissed, "there's still a few awake! Wait a minute!" Gatti paused and listened; he could hear footsteps coming their way.
"I'm going to sleep now," a teenaged voice called back, and a pair of brown-booted feet passed the doorway. Gatti and Migel looked at each other and grinned; they knew that voice, they had heard it not so long ago in Fanelia. The king!
They waited until the footsteps had climbed a set of stairs and then followed after Van, keeping a safe distance away, their soft-soled boots making no noise on the wooden floors. True to Gatti's thoughts, he climbed to the third floor, meeting no one, for most had already gone to bed. The door to Van's room swung closed behind him, and Gatti and Migel paused a moment outside it.
"You ready?" Gatti asked. Migel fumbled at a pouch in his belt, pulling out a small flask and a cloth. Yanking the cork out, he wet the cloth thoroughly, wrinkling his nose.
"Phew! This stuff's strong!" he remarked, his eyes tearing.
"Don't inhale too much of it," Gatti warned. Migel grimaced.
"Pah! No worries."
Softly, slowly so as to make no noise, Gatti turned the doorknob and pushed the door open just enough for Migel to slide through. He shut it quickly again, and waited.
Migel crawled along the floor on his fingertips and knees, the wet cloth balled in one fist, holding his breath for fear of keeping quiet. Where are you? He paused, letting his eyes sort through the various items of furnature, picking out the bed and the sleeping form in it. There you are!
Migel moved to continue forward, but the sleeping form in the bed sat up. "Who's there?" asked the unmistakable Fanelian voice.
Damn! No time to dally now. Migel gathered his energy and sprang forward, the cloth in one hand, the other drawing the sword on his back. Knocking Van away from his royal sword, Migel slapped the cloth over his mouth and nose, stifling his cry of surprise. He pressed the blade to Van's throat.
"Breathe!" Migel hissed. Van glared at him and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, until the sword drew a thin line of blood on Van's neck. "Breathe!"
The door opened and Migel's head jerked up; sensing that the coast was clear, Gatti had entered. "Gatt!" he whispered, "he can hold his breath like a dolphin-person! Help me out here!" Gatti obliged by drawing back his fist and punching Van in the stomach. The young king gasped—and then his eyelids drooped, and he went limp, and Migel nearly dropped him on the floor. "Damn, he's heavy!" he grunted. Gatti pulled a length of rope from a pouch on his belt and had already begun to tie Van's hands and feet.
By the time they dragged Van's slumbering form out the window and back to Chesta's waiting Crima Claws, the air had grown noticeably cooler. Unusually cool for the summertime, though in their haste they did not notice it; and as they gave the orders to the Vione's pilots to make their escape from Castelo, a fog had begun to settle over the land, piling on top of itself until even the high floating fortress was shrouded in mist.