Sorry I haven't updated. I've been sick.
Skipper woke to the familiar sound of the door opening. He sat up to see the female penguin stalk in with two males in tow. The subordinates set food down and backed up. Kowalski had been reclining against the wall, but the glassy look in his eyes faded when he registered their guests. He stood up, followed by Skipper, and they both saluted her. It was not their military salute; instead, it was a gesture of respect that any native-born would understand. An inclination of the head, exposing their throats for a brief moment, before their flippers swept up in a movement that resembled a human curtsy.
"Iczalie," Kowalski croaked.
She turned to the males and ordered something. Skipper looked at Kowalski for a moment as he tried to piece together the words; he was not nearly as adept in learning the native tongue as his subordinate.
"More water?" he finally guessed.
"Yes," Kowalski said.
They slurped up what was offered then the bowls were refilled again. Iczalie gestured to the fish, and they both took up three, feeling her sharp gaze on their vulnerable necks. They backed up and ate, swallowing the fish whole with a slight tilt of their heads. Iczalie's expression was tight, but it wasn't unreadable anymore, and they could tell she approved.
"Leave," she ordered the males. "Stand outside the door."
They bowed and left, shutting the heavy door behind them. Iczalie appraised them then sat down. Pulling at a pouch on her hip, she threw out a flurry of dark powder until it coated a small section of the floor. She looked from Skipper to Kowalski and drew a ball with small dots around it.
"Sky," Skipper guessed in Antarctican. She nodded then pointed to the ball.
"Moon," she said in English.
"Yes," Kowalski said. He gestured at the dots and spoke in her tongue. "Stars."
And so began their daily game of learning each other's language. For a while they were basic enough that Skipper could keep up. He could speak simple sentences and was learning to string together more words, but soon Kowalski was rambling away in Antarctican, leaving Skipper to try and translate to himself. He could feel Iczalie's eyes on him, and he met them, unafraid. She snorted and said something to Kowalski, interrupting him. He snorted, his eyes shining, then turned to smile at Skipper.
"She says that you are a very brave penguin, Skipper. Few males of her tribe can meet her gaze for so long."
"I am honored for her thinking so," Skipper replied, knowing this was the correct response.
She nodded after Kowalski had replied in her tongue. Then they sat silent for a few moments. Iczalie finally shifted forward and spoke in broken English, using Kowalski's first name.
"What you want, Aleks?"
Kowalski's mouth went dry, and he glanced at Skipper. They had been trying to get her to explain why her tribe had allied with Blowhole for weeks. She wouldn't talk. And with this question, they saw a small glimmer of hope that they might find out some new information. Kowalski took a deep breath.
"We want to know why such honorable penguins as you and your tribe would be allies with such a monster as Blowhole," he said slowly.
She sat there for a few moments then swept the powder clean and began to draw. First, she drew a male penguin. A younger male penguin was drawn and then a small female, clutching onto the flipper of the second male. Skipper and Kowalski watched, not daring to say a word. She sat up then pointed at the female.
"Me," she said. She shifted to the adult penguin. "Father chief." Then she gestured at the younger male. "Brother."
"So, when you were younger," Kowalski said slowly. "You had an older brother that you loved. He lived with you and your father. Was this after your mother died?"
"Yes. Mother gone to spirit plains," she said then swept it clean.
She drew a path and the two male penguins again, while she was standing at the entrance to her cave, waving as they left.
"Father and brother go to fish. Father come back. Brother no come back. Blood and mess all over Father. He say penguins come and kill brother, murder him, and throw him to seals. Father escape, but no more brother."
Kowalski nodded. "I'm sorry. You must miss him."
"Miss brother much," she admitted, her eyes sad. Then she scrutinized them. "Me think that what dolphin said wrong."
"What?" Skipper asked. "What did he say?"
Iczalie narrowed her eyes, searching Skipper's face. "That you, Skipper, and you, Aleks, throw my brother to seals."
Skipper blinked. "He said we killed your brother?"
"Yes," she said. "Father say you the penguins that he saw with brother."
Kowalski hopped to his feet, shock on his face. He looked at Skipper, his beak moving as if he were trying to speak, but no words came out. Kowalski began to pace furiously. Iczalie watched with wariness as he muttered to himself. Skipper wasn't worried; his soldier did that whenever he had an idea within his grasp.
"He's thinking," Skipper told Iczalie. "Just give him a few minutes."
After five long minutes, Kowalski walked over and sat down. "May we tell a story, Iczalie?" he asked, his eyes on the powder.
"Yes," she said. "Tell story."
Skipper arched his brow at Kowalski, but Kowalski nodded. "You can help me, Skipper. I'll start."
He swept the powder clean and began to draw. Four male penguins stood on the plains. Kowalski pointed at the tallest.
"Me." He moved to the one in front. "Skipper." He disgustedly waved at the other two. "Manfredi and Johnson."
"Your traitors," she said.
"Yes. They were our friends then. We came from far away. Across the great ocean. We came to find an old enemy."
"Dolphin?" she guessed before Kowalski could draw him.
"Yes. Only we didn't find Blowhole," Skipper said, wondering where this was going.
He glanced at Kowalski who nodded and began to draw on the other side of the powder. The scientist carefully drew another male penguin and the symbol for blood. Iczalie watched with wide eyes.
"We found a wounded penguin. There was much blood," Kowalski continued. "He was hurting, but we could not speak his tongue. I believe he was mindsick from losing too much blood. So, I doctored him and helped him until he was healthy again. He followed us and became one of us. And we left Antarctica, and we never came back." He paused. "His name is Rico, and he's one of our teammates."
Iczalie didn't move, her eyes on the symbol for blood. With a start, the two males realized that tears slipped down her feathers. She never displayed such outward emotion in front of them. Her gaze rose from the drawing, and she shook her head.
"Ree-ko not dead?"
"No. Rico isn't dead," Skipper said. "We didn't kill him. We healed him. And he joined us and left."
"No believe you," she hissed. "Ree-ko no leave me and brothers and sisters. Ree-ko warrior penguin who loved me much. Him no leave."
"I don't know why he came with us," Kowalski said. "But he seemed eager to get away. You say he went fishing with your father? And your father saw us?"
Iczalie suddenly swept the black powder into her pouch and stood. The tears were gone, and they were replaced by a look that was a perfect mix of fright, hope, and unbelief. She shrieked and the door was opened. Without looking back, she strode out, leaving them alone again. The door shut behind her.
"Kowalski?" Skipper asked. "Analysis."
"I believe we're being held captive by Rico's tribe," Kowalski said softly. "And that Iczalie is his little sister. If she is to be believed, Blowhole convinced her father that we were the ones who killed him."
"But Rico was alive when we found him," Skipper argued. "And she said that he saw us."
"He could be lying," Kowalski said. "But why should he lie?"
Skipper stared at the water bowl, his mind whirling. It finally settled on one thing. "Have you ever wondered who gave Rico his scar?" he asked quietly.
Kowalski snapped his beak shut. He leaned back against the wall and stared up at the rocky ceiling. With the fact that they were trapped with nothing to do, they'd had a lot of time to think. And they had considered many things. But this was like nothing they'd thought of. They had toyed with ideas like Blowhole granting them weapons if they obeyed, or even a share in his world domination plans. But this… This was personal, especially for their gruffest teammate.
After several minutes of thought, Kowalski shivered and spoke. "So, you think the chief… attacked him?" he asked haltingly. He closed his eyes. "It would explain why Rico came with us. I mean, he was obviously miserable at first. I could tell he wanted to go back, but he never did."
"Miserable?" Skipper asked blankly.
"Language barrier. Culture barrier. In a strange land with nobody around him who understood." Kowalski paused. "I think he connected more with Lita and Pol than anybody else."
Skipper nodded. "Knowing Manfredi and Johnson, that's why they killed them."
The two penguins went silent again and thought on the two penguins that they'd thought they had known. Manfredi and Johnson had gleefully bragged about killing many penguins, but especially Lita and Pol. They talked of blood and gore and their screams of pain, grinning the whole time. But when talk had turned to Rico, their excitement had turned to wrath. They despised him, talked about how disgusting and improper he was.
"Why do you hate him?" Kowalski had asked.
"Because he knew us better than you ever did," Manfredi said.
And now it was clear that their hatred for Rico had festered deep in their hearts for years and had grown into a terrible thing. Kowalski and Skipper didn't know what had happened between them when they went on their rescue mission for Private, but Rico had been weak when they'd found him after they'd escaped Blowhole. Something bad had happened, but Rico didn't speak. All he'd done was hold up a small, fluffy chick with the most innocent blue eyes that any of them had ever seen. They named him Private and never spoke of that night again.
"Do you think they're here yet?" Kowalski asked after several minutes of silence.
"I hope so," Skipper replied. "If there was any time that we needed Rico and Private, now is it. I know Rico can survive here. I hope Private can do it."
"He's tough, Skipper. We've made sure of that," Kowalski replied. But he didn't sound sure.
Outside the door, Iczalie listened long enough to hear that, then she pushed away and strode down the hall. If it was true, if her brother was alive and well, if he had come after his commanders, she would find out. There were rumors of military penguin activity in the eastern ice fields. She would send spies to find out if this were true.
"Khlamon," she said in her native tongue when she saw the penguin she was looking for.
"Daughter of the chief," he said, bowing low. "May I help you?"
Iczalie trusted Khlamon, so she took him aside and told him of all the words exchanged between herself and the two prisoners. He listened and said nothing until she was done. Then he breathed out.
"What do you think?" Iczalie asked.
"I know that your brother and the chief did not get along," he finally said.
"So, you think they might be telling the truth?"
Khlamon shrugged, glancing around. "We can find out. If this Ree-ko is the same as your brother, our chief might have done something shameful."
"Send out spies of our own," she said. "Recommend them and do not tell my father of this conversation."
"Iczalie, what is on your mind?" he asked gently.
She stared at him, her eyes gleaming with anger and unshed tears. "If it is true, if my father did attack my brother and leave him for dead, then this will be the final chip off of our ice. The cracks are great enough as it is, dear friend. This might shatter his hold on our people. And this will shatter his hold on me. I will do anything for Ree-ko. Even go against my father. No matter what happens."
Khlamon nodded and went away, leaving Iczalie with a heart full of hope and fear and thoughts that things were about to change irrevocably