5

Prisoner

               When I came to, the first thing I noticed was that my hair was bloody and I had one hell of a headache. It was nearly frightening how similar this capture was to my first one. I didn't technically remember everything that had happened, seeing as I'd been out cold and didn't know the area anyhow, but I used my inner eye to see that I'd been carried to Freid, a city ruled by a guy named Chid. I saw that he was actually Allen's illegitimate son. Some quick calculations on my part proved that he was my cousin. Or maybe not. It depended on how much genetic stuff had been done to change Allen's little sister into my father. I dismissed the issue, which was getting weirder by the second due to my muddled, circular reasoning.

               I examined my surroundings. It was too dark to see, but psychic stuff told me that I was in a small cell under the castle. It was carved out of stone and at the very end of the row so as to be as cold, dark, and damp as possible, an efficient torture measure in itself and (psychic again) reserved for those whom Chid felt deserved the most punishment. Jerk. I catch cold easily, and resigned myself to spending a lot of time sneezing.

               It was right around then that I discovered that I'm extremely afraid of being alone. It's an inherited phobia and a weird one, considering I love my solitude. Since then I've figured out that the difference is that when I ran my unaccompanied errands for Mother I was outside, and with all the little critters (sometimes including my dog) and the forest alive and growing around me it didn't seem like I was by myself.

In the lifeless prison, there was no such luxury. I was terrified, though I can't really say what of. Some of my fear was reasonable; I was worried about Dyln and Skye and I found it sort of creepy that I'd been recognized through the dark and through my disguise. Otherwise, it was this idiotic, irrational panic that occasionally overtakes me when I'm alone to this day. Mega space lemons.

I huddled in the corner, miserable and scared and feeling the utmost idiot with what reason I had left to me. The only thing in this whole affair I have to be proud of is dealing with the unpleasant dampness and the spiders. It's not that I'm scared, at least not the way I'm scared of being alone, but I don't like those things. Creepy-crawlies of all descriptions make me sort of nervous.

               Eventually, I fell asleep. My dreams were normal nightmares (the lost alone in the dark thing and the something's chasing you but you can't move thing, successively), but I was a little scared of being psychic right then and this seemed a blessing in disguise. I'm starting to sound like a real coward, but there you have it.

               I spent a long time there, but I don't have a way of measuring how long. I considered every escape method I'd ever heard or read of, but none seemed even remotely plausible now that they could be put to use. The guard slid my food in through a little notch in the door, ruling out the possibility of overpowering him (not that I could have anyway). He didn't see me long enough for the pretend to be sick bit. I didn't have any windows, money, the little keys professional thieves use on locks (I later discovered that the door was bolted), there was no way to dig through solid stone, and Dyln's smooth talking wasn't available. Basically, I was stuck.

               I kept myself from focusing on being alone and in the dark (I do a nervous gulp and shiver even at the memory) by probing around with my third eye. Dyln and Skye were safe. They had guessed that I'd been captured and quickly given up hope of finding me. I was a little hurt, but had to live with it. Besides, they were sticking with the plan and going to see if my mother was okay. I was grateful for that.

               Lord Van was on a diplomatic trip somewhere or other, and Lady Hitomi was spending a lot of time in the castle's gardens with ditzface (her name, I discovered, was Millerna). Allen had been dispatched to eradicate me (nice uncle). Donovan (remember the blah-looking evil dude?) was plotting something, but I couldn't force my way through this weird mental wall he seemed to have up and get to his brain (space lemons!). Chid was sending a messenger to Lord Van to say I'd been caught. I tried to reach Mother, but whenever I thought I was getting close to her, I'd be overcome by this enormous wave of sorrow. The fact that our home had been the scene of such a slaughter, even fifteen years ago made this less than surprising, but it was still frustrating. Once I'd tried to find my father, but as I couldn't find him directly it hardly made sense to search the whole of Gaea. I tried, and it was exhausting.

               All of this searching was. I sapped my strength more every time I checked up on Dyln, and she was by far the easiest for me to reach. Aside from the weakening effects of my psychic searches, I wasn't fed too often and the cell was wet and freezing. Soon I didn't have to pretend to be sick.

               I was in a pretty pathetic condition when a couple of soldiers showed up to take me in for questioning. They nearly had to carry me to the throne room, where Chid was sitting with a cat girl who looked a couple of years older than he was. I had enough strength to root around in her head a little. She was his wife, her name was Merle, and she was the adopted sister or something of Lord Van. I doubted that I'd find an ally in her.

               It seemed clear that my best chance was to lie, but I didn't have Dyln's natural aptitude for it. My mind was a complete blank. Searching around, I finally thought of a boy's name, but the rest was not forthcoming.

               Chid gave me a rather unpleasant look. "Let's have your name." I could see that he was already well aware of who I was. For all I knew they'd done a DNA test while I was out of it.

               "Kojiro," I said quickly, pitching my voice slightly lower. It was my uncle's name.

               He sneered. "Only protocol, and a measurement of how cooperative you're going to be. It would be a better disguise, Dilanda, if you hadn't bought it from my treasurer's admittedly half-witted son."

               That left me feeling stupid, but that was nothing new. I was stopped from making a stinging retort by a coughing fit. Merle (I guess she wasn't that bad) gave me a sympathetic look, but Chid's eyes got harder and I had a sense that he was amused. I didn't like this guy.

               "Classic tactic, Lady, but I think we're a little past storybooks now," he barked. If it were possible, the iciness to his voice would have stopped me. As it was, my lungs were about to fly out of my mouth (doesn't that give us all a lovely mental image) and there was nothing I could do about it.

               Finally, my hacking subsided. I gave him a poisonous glare. "I prefer my storybooks to the real world," I hissed. "Seeing as it has people like you in it." It was hardly a crushing comeback, but there are times I'll sacrifice wit for a clear opinion.

               He shrugged. "Strong words from the deliverer of Doomsday."

               "Skip the cute alliteration," I snapped. "Space lemons! I'd much prefer it if you'd kill me and get it over with. Might save all of you sniveling, cruel nobles from being eradicated. Then Hitomi can knock off some more crap to ruin more lives, and-"

               I would have continued, but I was seized by another bout of coughing. This one was worse, and I choked. I fainted for a split second for lack of air, but was conscious again before I hit the floor. I lay still to get a little strength back. Despite my terrific dilemma, the only thing I could think of was, this is probably the weirdest case of flu in the history of Gaea. I'm a strange little pickle.

               "Hadn't we already discussed how futile that tactic is?" Chid said icily. "Come on, up."

               The beginnings of an improbable plan crept into my head. I lay still, breathing heavily. As I had hoped, he got up and strolled over. I kept my inner eye on him. That nonchalant look didn't fool anyone. If I died on him, I wouldn't be available for questioning, getting him into some serious trouble with Lord Van.

               Phase two. I stopped breathing and twitched a little. He leaned over, concerned, and stretched out a hand to pull me back up.

               Thank you, Mother! Despite all my protests about being a pacifist and not having any occasion to fight anyhow, she'd insisted I become little less than an expert in martial arts of various kinds, Judo being my best. I rolled over, grabbed his arm, smashed the guy against the floor to wind him, snatched my little dagger out of its secret notch in my boot, and dragged him back up all in the blink of an eye. Aren't I a modest pickle?

               "Now, let me out of here, now!" I snapped at Merle, who happened to be the closest to me. "Tell all your soldiers they can follow at a distance, but don't make a move until I'm out of the city."

               Wow, did I feel slimy. In all of my books the villain pulled things like this on the sweet little heroine. I squished the guilt under concentration on keeping anyone from calling my bluff. Chid was a jerk, but I wasn't about to kill him or anyone else.

               At one point, when I'd made it about halfway through the city, Merle turned as if she were about to call the soldiers out after me. Trying to keep my feigned devil-may-care-but-I-don't attitude from slipping, I said ferociously, "Careful, Queenie, or I'll serve Chidkabobs." Then I couldn't resist. "I've got a knife and I don't know how to use it. Careful! I might make a mistake."

               Space lemons, my sense of humor will be the death of me. I just had to use that stupid joke (which I had come up with at the age of nine and always wanted to use) right when I had to seem lethal and serious. As I said it, Merle stared straight into my eyes before I could turn my head. Cat people are good judges of character, and those windows to the soul told her I wouldn't do more than cause some slight discomfort to her vicious hubby. She signaled the soldiers to go after me.

               More space lemons. To buy some time, I connected a foot to Chid's posterior and sent him flying into her. Then I took off like a shot.

               Unfortunately, I was running on pure adrenaline, which can only do so much. I was sick and weak. Never a good runner, I knew they'd have me in a manner of minutes. Desperately, I summoned up a little psychic stuff. It pointed me down a little side street. Dead-end, straight out of a bad cop show. Welcome to my world. Luckily, I felt a tiny mental tug to my left just as Chid's men-at-arms reached the corner.

               Somehow, I ended up under a porch jutting off an abandoned, decaying house. Breathing as lightly as I could, I tried to see if I was telekinetic as well and drag a piece of scrap wood up to disguise the opening. That didn't work, and I had to do it the old fashioned way. Once I made a scraping noise that almost made my heart stop, but one of the soldiers sneezed at the same time. Maybe not a miracle, but it certainly felt like one.

               I stayed crouched in that little space for what was left of the day, counting my suppressed sneezes and having near heart attacks anytime I heard someone walk by. Space lemons, not the best time I've ever had.

               When it was fully dark I crept out. I was cobwebby and shaken, but otherwise all right. I made some attempt to maneuver my way to the main gate, but I overheard some woman gossiping with her neighbor about how it was closed and guarded because of some dangerous criminal.

               I almost laughed. This was a great tactic for keeping some people from getting out, but not me. If you grow up on one foothill and climb on the other, taller ones (and sometimes the mountains) for your daily exercise programs or just because you damn well feel like it, tall, thick walls aren't as imposing as they're meant to be.

               I found a spot that I figured would be the least visible to the rest of the city and shinnied up, no problem. I'm a mountain goat, sometimes. Of course, I hadn't counted on being so damn (such charming language lately) indisposed, and by the time I was half way down the other side, which shouldn't have bothered me much, I couldn't hold on another second. I knew how to fall without getting too badly hurt (another side effect of my childhood environment), and got away with a sprained ankle instead of a broken skull.

               Of course, that was no picnic either. There were soldiers patrolling about ten miles around the city, hoping to be the hero and drag me back. Clairvoyance was a help, but I'd have to keep going to have half a chance.

               Gritting my teeth against pain and weariness, I set off in a random direction and hoped for the best. As usual, it took a while to get there. Space lemons.