A Little Side Adventure
Episode Five: Meeting the Enemy
By Shelli-Jo Pelletier
(ussfantasy@hotmail.com)
***************
The dry, sandpaper sound preceded his arrival long before he made an actual appearance in the doorway of her chamber. So she had placed a slim finger in her book and was staring expectantly as he appeared in the doorframe, pausing with what little patience he had for her acknowledgement.
Totally amazing, she thought, staring at him without words. The creatures of this world are fabulous. If I didn't already have a mission, I'd set about recruiting them to Vladimir's agenda. Maybe when I'm done . . . if I make him proud, I'll suggest he come here himself, see the possibilities with his own eyes. . . .
The so-called "digital monsters" of the Digiworld had marvelous potential in her eyes. With their special powers and fighting abilities, an army of them would be an impressive arsenal indeed. Jakamon here was a perfect example. As tall as a full-grown man, his outward appearance was of a cobra snake, complete with impressive cowl. But unlike a snake, he carried himself upright, the front half of his sinuous bulk off the ground. The sand-colored Digimon also sported heavily muscled, human arms, and he could pack a devastating punch into those knuckles. She could just imagine what a creature such as he would be able to do on Earth. Why, the fear he inspired alone could. . . .
The Digimon cleared his throat pointedly, his tiny yellow eyes narrowed with impatience, and she smiled. "Bring him in, Jakamon," she permitted, setting her book aside.
The large snake Digimon slithered into the room, hauling his burden in with him. As a real proof of his muscular strength, he was able to carry an iron cage—an occupied iron cage—almost half his size without even dragging it. At her gesture he deposited it on the floor in front of her chair. "The others are secured and their Inhibitors are in place. They were still unconscious when I left them. As you ordered, I have brought you one of them." Jakamon's voice always reminded her of old leaves, dry with a hissing lilt at the end.
"Goody!" She clapped her hands and crouched beside the cage. There was a young male dragon, orange and purple in color, unconscious within. Pre-adolescent, she guessed. No horns, either, which was good for her if he decided to fight back. Not that those teeth and claws wouldn't be enough. "He's cute," she giggled, poking a finger through the bars as if he was a puppy.
Jakamon rolled his eyes. "May I go now, Zophia?"
She waved a hand without looking up. "Yes, yes. Go ahead. I'll come get you if I need something." The Digimon snorted and she listened to the dragging sound of his tail against the stone floor as he left.
"And now," she murmured, sitting back on her heels, still gazing at her subject, "well, I win." The felling of triumph was hot and sweet inside of her. Vladimir had doubted she could do it. His patronizing voice had forced her to bite her tongue to keep from exploding. His displeased looks had mocked her. And all she put up with had only made her more determined than before to complete her mission and make him proud of her.
"I win, I win," she softly chanted, singsong. "I caught them all. Now they're mine." Wait, that couldn't be right. If she had caught them all the Spell Cloud would have returned. That was one of the parameters of the spell. But then again, who cared? She had seven dragons now! Sure, they weren't full-grown. That could be a good thing! Even one adult dragon could be too much to handle, but seven youths would not be hard to keep under control.
So, she was tired of waiting for the Spell Cloud's return. Seven young dragons were quite enough. Let those that remained free run home and warn their people of the evil on this world. By the time they formed any type of search party to come for their lost children, it would be too late. She would be long gone. A chuckle of victory crossed Zophia's full lips.
A nagging little voice—that sounded suspiciously like Vladimir when he was giving one of his lectures—reminded her to consider all possibilities before assuming anything. To never underestimate her enemies. What if. . . . Hmm, what if the dragons—or dragon—that hadn't been caught yet were parents of these young dragons? That could be bad. Parents sometimes put sensible thinking aside when their children were in danger. And if they found her little stronghold. . . .
"Ah, perhaps it would be a good idea to make sure the remaining dragon or dragons couldn't find this place." Zophia turned away from the cage sitting in the center of the room and scooped up the book she had set aside, flipping through the pages with her perfectly manicured nails. Now where did it go? She was looking at it just a moment ago . . . ah! There it was! The Spell Cloud incantation. She sank back into her chair, giving her full attention to the words in the tome. Anyone familiar in the arts of magic and fairly competent could trace a spell back to its caster. And since she had no more need for it, the best thing to do would be to dissipate the Cloud as soon as possible. Of course, such things had to be done properly. A spell wasn't something you could turn on and off like a light switch. Zophia was soon deeply immersed in the ancient writings.
Izzy, unbeknownst to Zophia or Jakamon, was quite awake and carefully listening to everything going on around him. He had regained consciousness approximately ten minutes ago, and quickly deduced that he was being carried through a narrow hallway, if one considered the way the echoes of sound bounced back almost immediately. He had briefly wondered if he would have been able to make that deduction had he been human, or if a dragon's more accurate sense of hearing had made it possible. However, the individual carrying his enclosure was muttering to himself, and Izzy abandoned the train of thought to listen, keeping up his pretense of unconsciousness.
"Yes, Zophia. Whatever you wish, Zophia. As if I had nothing better to do, Zophia," the soft voice hissed sarcastically. "Vexing human! If I didn't need her for protection from Etemon. . . ." The mutterings trailed off into unintelligible grumbles, but Izzy was so shocked he doubted he would have been able to follow even if the speaker continued. Human!?
It took all the boy's willpower not to jump to his feet and question the being. Since it was doubtful a human could carry him this long without even being out of breath, the speaker was most likely a Digimon. An evil Digimon, according to Sarith and Tok. But what if they were mistaken? What if their pursuers weren't evil after all? Perhaps that large cloud was the only means of communication they had for long distances. Weighing the consequences in his mind, Izzy decided the wisest course of action would be to continue his deception. If these beings truly didn't mean them harm, seeming to remain unconscious wouldn't have any negative effects on their interaction. And if they were evil, it might gain him some valuable information.
That was when the orange dragon realized they were no longer moving, and first heard the female voice later identified as the human Zophia. Without being able to explain why, he immediately became wary of the female. Setting about to figure out exactly where that particular emotion came from, he could only conclude that she sounded and felt like someone he should be wary of. It was an altogether unsatisfactory conclusion, but at that moment the Digimon—Jakamon, she had called him, and he stored the information away for future use—set his confines on the ground, and Izzy could feel her crouch down before him. He froze, hoping she wouldn't notice.
Apparently she didn't. After Jakamon left she talked to herself for a while, then appeared to search for something in a book. He could hear the dry crinkle of the old pages as she turned them, and the sound of springs groaning as she sat in a chair close by.
By now, Izzy's curiosity was eating him alive. Surely she was sufficiently distracted to ignore any small movement from his direction. Taking the chance, he cautiously cracked open one reddish brown eye for the first time since awakening. From his position, the only thing he could make out were the metal bars of his confines, and beyond them a pair of fashionable boots that could only be described as expensive.
He slowly opened his eye the rest of the way, then followed it with the second. He found himself staring at a woman sitting in a richly upholstered armchair, dark red in color. The woman herself was clothed in the same color, wearing a long gown-like dress that made Mimi's look like something you would wear while doing farm work. It was embroidered with gold thread in bizarre patterns, matching the tumble of dark blonde waves of hair that cascaded down her shoulders. He couldn't see her face; it was buried in the large book she was reading. Which, logically, meant that she couldn't see him. A good thing, no doubt.
Suddenly she bolted to her feet, and Izzy froze once again. But she wasn't interested in him, didn't even look his way. "Ah, here it is!" she announced to the room, still buried in her text. She treaded past the iron cage, and he followed her with a slight turn of his head. For the first time, he realized the room was a bit . . . odd. Beside the chair stood a tall shaded floor lamp, providing the only illumination for the room. The floor was carpeted in pale rose. Other than the cage and something strange standing in the corner, which Zophia was heading towards, there was nothing else in the room. But what was strange was that the walls were made of large blocks of gray stone, as if they were in a room of a castle or something! Well, he had seen odder things in Digiworld.
Zophia had set the book, opened, on some kind of wooden dais, Izzy realized as he gazed through the bars of his prison. He only got a glimpse, because the woman stood in his way with her back to him, but he thought he had seen an oval mirror or window hanging on the wall right in front of her. As he stared in curiosity, the woman began to murmur words in a language he didn't recognize. Flashes of bright silver light illuminated her in silhouette for brief spurts, like a sporadic strobe light, coming from the mirror. She was chanting, her words following a certain pattern like a poem, and building in intensity. One last word spat out, harshly, and the silver light doused itself in an instant. Izzy was left with bits of stars blinking before his eyes, and a feeling of amazed fascination.
"What did you do?" he wondered out loud, completely forgetting where he was.
He remembered real quick. Especially when the woman whirled around and stared right at him. He also remembered that she was probably not a very nice person, and at the moment he resembled a small orange dragon with purple wings. In a cage. For some strange and curious reason he was finding it hard to breathe. He wished Tentomon were here with him.
Zophia recovered quickly. She had an oval face, framed by her golden hair. Light brown eyes continued to study him deeply. A smile lit her face.
It wasn't a nice smile.
"So, you're awake," she grinned, showing bright white teeth. With a flourish of her crimson dress, she strutted back across the room and sank into her chair, staring at him over steepled fingers. "Good."
Izzy felt the metal bars press against him as he took a step backward, watching her pass by the cage. The only solution he could see to this situation would be to gather as much information as possible, and use that information to devise a procedure to get him out of his present confines. However, Izzy was more of a thinker than a doer. He was much more comfortable giving advice and information than implementing plans. It took several silent moments for him to gather the nerve to ask, "Where are my friends?" He had meant to sound demanding. It didn't work too well.
The woman named Zophia looked amused. "They're hanging around here somewhere," she replied readily, chuckling.
Well, if she answered one question she would probably answer another. Feeling bolder, he crept forward an inch and continued to seek facts. "Why have you brought us here?"
"My, my, my! Curious little thing, aren't you?"
He glared at her. "Yes."
She flashed her nasty grin and leaned forward. "Perhaps you won't like the answers."
When he didn't respond she stood up, sweeping her arms wide in a grand gesture. This woman liked to show off for an audience. "You," she informed him importantly, "are here because I need answers. I will be the one asking the questions. You will answer them."
"And if I don't?" he challenged, unconsciously drawing himself up to his full height.
"If you don't," she finished, drawing closer so she could stare down at him from her full height, "I shall get my answers from one of the others. One of the little females perhaps?"
He felt his insides turn to ice, an interesting and unpleasant sensation. There was some sort of blockage in his throat that he couldn't talk around. He had to suffice with staring angrily at the woman.
She laughed. Actually laughed, and Izzy perceived for the first time just how helpless he really was. He followed her with his eyes as she resumed her position in the chair, meeting his gaze frankly. There wasn't a timid bone in this woman's body. "I want to know what you're doing on this world," she stated flatly.
It's a game of wits, the orange dragon realized. I'm attempting to decipher her just as she's attempting to decipher me. Every word has to be calculated precisely. At the speed of thought he considered why she would want to know that, decided that he could only hazard that she was collecting information just as he was until he learned otherwise, and debated on how much to reveal, and how much of that would be truth. In a matter of seconds he had complied his answer. "It was an accident," he replied shortly, sticking with the truth for now. Not the dragon truth, but the Digi-Destined truth. He'd have to see if his gambit paid off.
She looked surprised; he had caught her off guard. Either that, or said something he shouldn't have.
Zophia frowned, then covered the expression with a bland half-smile. "If you didn't mean to come here, why didn't you simply leave?"
Izzy pounced upon the bit of knowledge, but was careful not to show it, as he recalled what Tok had told them about their mode of transportation. She didn't know he used to be human! She assumed he was an ordinary dragon! He had suspected that, but had phrased the answer that way to gauge her reaction and assure himself. But now he had to formulate another response before she became suspicious.
Well, she already knew he was curious. She would believe more of the same. "We were inquisitive about where we were, and desired to explore before returning . . . home." A momentary lapse. He didn't know what the dragons called their planet. But she would probably assume he just didn't want to reveal any secrets about his world, so it was an acceptable error.
Zophia wasn't done. "Then why didn't you leave when you discovered you were being hunted? You fled the Spell Cloud for several hours before it was able to capture you." Before Izzy could think up an excuse it was done for him. Her brown eyes lit up as she stumbled upon the answer herself—or so she thought. "It was those creatures, wasn't it? Those Digimon you were traveling with? You had made friends, and couldn't in good conscious leave them." She snickered at the thought of such selflessness.
Happy to allow her to provide answers for herself, he agreed. "Exactly." Then, daring. "Where are they?"
She waved aside the question with a motion of her hand, obviously thinking of other things. "The Spell Cloud was only assigned to capture dragons. If any other creatures got in its way it would incapacitated them and move on." Abruptly aware of how much she had let slip, she gave him a grudgingly impressed look. He tried to return it with a blank stare, but felt she wasn't buying it.
"What else are you hiding, dragon?" She wasn't one for beating around the bush, either.
"N-nothing." Izzy tried to sound assertive under her intense brown gaze. It wasn't one of his strong points.
"Tell me," she hissed, sounding more dangerous than she ever had before, truly evil. Izzy bumped into the back of the cage trying to get away from her. She continued to speak in that low, dangerous voice. "You can't hurt me, dragon. But I can hurt you. Tell me."
He quivered, unable to find his own voice. Get a hold of yourself! he ordered mentally, wishing he had some of Tok's abilities to throw at the woman. This of course led to a thought that if she really thought he was a dragon, why wasn't she alarmed that he was might obliterate her with fire or something? Of course. She would have taken precautions to assure he wouldn't be able to do such a thing . . . for the first time Izzy felt something stiff yet flexible encircling his neck, and put the two together. A fascinating prospect. How could such a thing prevent a dragon's powers?
Suddenly he wasn't thinking anything at all, as blinding pain enveloped his entire body. A scream tried to force it's why up his throat and he choked on it. Black stars and white ones danced before his eyes. The world was nothing but pain, and then . . . it was gone.
Izzy collapsed bonelessly onto the bottom of the cage, his own harsh panting filling his ears. It couldn't have lasted more then six or seven seconds, but he had no desire to ever repeat the experience. It had been extremely unpleasant.
Forcing open his dazed eyes, he found Zophia leering at him. "Told you," she whispered darkly.
He blinked. Then the realization hit him. "Y-you did. . . ?" he croaked. "How?" Despite himself, he was intrigued. Perhaps she had been fooling Jakamon, and wasn't really human after all?
Preening under his confused gaze, the woman twirled a stand of golden hair around her little finger. "You didn't think an ordinary human would have the gal, the skill, the ambition to travel to another world, seeking such a powerful creature as yourself, did you?"
He squinted. She looked ordinary to him, if a bit extravagant. Of course, appearances were often deceiving. "What are you, then?" he wanted to know.
Zophia struck a stately pose. "I," she announced with full-blown arrogance, "am a sorceress."
She was obviously expecting some kind of response. Unfortunately, Izzy didn't have a clue as to what that was. He hoped his confusion, which had not been alleviated with the revelation, would suffice.
Apparently it did. The blonde woman stood once again (didn't she ever stay in one place for more than five minutes?) and paced around the room. The orange dragon felt it would probably be a bad idea to show how nervous he was, so he didn't try to keep her in sight. Besides, he didn't feel quite like standing up just yet.
"I'll bet you thought there weren't any of us left, hmm dragon? Sorceress, wizard, magic-user. Seems more like something out of a story you'd tell a gullible child. Of course, so do dragons. And a world made from the Internet, for that matter. Very interesting." She didn't seem to be caring about what she said now. She was showing off. Again. Izzy stayed silent, listening and learning.
"Well I'll tell you, dragon. Your kind did a very good job disappearing from human view. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. We, too, kept a low profile over the centuries. But there was always someone. Someone who practiced the arts and was willing to pass down their knowledge to the next generation when it was time. Lately we're becoming more accepted, and some braver souls have emerged from secrecy. Wicca, witchcraft, Satanism, the occult. I myself am being tutored under Vladimir Howard; a more powerful man I have yet to meet. This—" and she spread her arms wide to encompass the room and more, "—is my trial to prove that my apprenticeship is at an end, that I am ready to become an adept. If I complete my mission successfully, Vladimir will no longer be my teacher. He will be my equal." She stood before him, beaming a superior smile down on him.
Izzy wondered if the woman was insane. Then again, he had witnessed the so-called Spell Cloud himself. . . .
Zophia wiped her palms against each other briskly. "Well," she said again. "Not that it hasn't been just splendid chatting with you, dear, but I am a very impatient woman. It's time to get on with things."
He managed to gather his legs under him and sit up, feeling nervous all over again. "Get on with what?" he asked warily.
Her nasty grin was back. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Snickering quietly to herself, she brushed a bit of dust from her red dress and returned to the corner with the podium and oval of glass on the wall. She flipped through that strange book, still chuckling.
Izzy didn't like this at all. Dragons must be incapable of sweating, because if they could I would be now. Quite profusely. He watched her closely as she bent over, studying a page in her book. He heard her mutter a faint and triumphant, "Ah hah!"
When Zophia turned back to face the cage, Izzy noted with fascination that she was holding something small and round that gave off a strong yellow glow. It illuminated her cruelly grinning face as she swiftly crossed the room toward him. Her eyes glittered dangerously.
"Ready to die, dragon?"
"WHAT!?" shrieked Izzy, jumping backward and hitting the bars of the cage. She was standing right in front of him, the glowing sphere held in the palm of one hand. As her other hand came up the air started to crackle with electricity, some of the tiny static bolts reaching out as if hungry to envelop him. Izzy felt himself start to panic, and screamed out the first thing that came to mind. "I don't want to die as a dragon!"
The woman paused, staring down at the dragon quivering in the corner of the cage. Her free hand waved over the other, and the yellow light and electricity vanished. "What did you say?"
"I'm not a dragon!" he shouted, abandoning his pretense of deception, not even caring what he was saying. Icy fear had him in its thrall. He didn't want to die! Not here, not alone. Not without ever getting back home, to his parents and his friends.
An expression of suspicion painted Zophia's face. "What do you mean?" she demanded.
He was happy to oblige. "I-I'm human. My friends and I, we really did come here by accident. We've been trying to get home. We met the dragons yesterday. They-they transformed us when they sensed you tracking them. It was their belief that you would not be able to follow us if we were all d-dragons." The orange dragon fell silent, shivering, purple wings rustling. His tail curled tight around his feet as he stared up at her with his red-brown eyes.
Zophia had impassively stood as he blurted out his tale. As he finished, she tucked the small marble-thing into a pocket in her dress and crossed her slim arms in front of her chest. "I can't believe this," she snorted, shaking her head. "I can't believe this!" Now she was pacing again. "I spent six months thinking up the perfect proof that I was ready. And another five in preparation. You know what Vladimir did when I finally told him, finally showed him the book I had found with the perfect spell? He laughed at me. Told me dragons didn't come to Earth anymore. Told me even if I could find one, I wouldn't be able to hold it long enough to perform the spell." The woman laughed bitterly. She was laughing at herself, Izzy realized.
"The fates must find this hilarious," she muttered. "Not only do I manage to scrounge up a spell that can track and capture dragons—you have no idea how rare that is—I also discover that the spell has led me to another whole world. Here digital monsters, dragons and humans no less—" She paused in her ranting to point at him. "—run around like cute little cuddly animals, happily ever after and all that crap. And when I finally get some of them, it turns out they're not even the ones I'm looking for!" She threw her hands up above her head and sank into her chair. "Is that ironic or what?"
Izzy wisely didn't answer.
The woman's shoulders slumped. For a moment she brooded, then picked up her head to stare at him. "So, you're human, hmm?" He cautiously nodded. "The other six. Which ones are human, and which are the real dragons?"
"Why do you want to know?" He was getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Even as he asked, his mind grabbed onto the fact that she said six others. That meant two of them hadn't been caught. Most likely Sarith and T.K. It was a small hope.
Zophia's fist crashed down on the arm of the chair, making him flinch. "Because I want to kill them, you idiot!" she exploded. "The spell is a masterwork of perfection! It sucks the very essence from a dragon, converting their extraordinary abilities into useable magical power, which can augment a magic-user's own!" Realizing she has perhaps said too much, the woman glared at her captive. "Of course, it is a spell made for dragons. And your soul is still human, no matter what form you may be in. That can't be changed. Using a creature that is not a dragon in this spell would have disastrous side effects. At the very least, you and I and everything within five miles would probably become a large black crater." She withdrew the tiny sphere—which really did look like nothing more than a glass marble now—and tossed it from hand to hand, as if to defy its dangerousness. She looked thoughtful. "Now that I think of it, it's a very good thing that you spoke up when you did, dra . . . boy."
Izzy gulped and nodded.
The blonde woman stroked her chin with her index finger, deep in thought. Her light brown eyes were unfocused and far away. Izzy, glad she was no longer paying attention to him, tried not to move or make a sound. No use calling unsolicited attention to himself. But his mind worked at a furious pace, as always. If he was to take Zophia at her word—and really, she had no reason to lie to him—then Tok was in real danger. Danger for his life. This woman had no moral obligations, felt no remorse at causing pain or taking a life to further her own ideals. Like Devimon and Etemon. Evil.
The only thing that stood in her way, it seemed, was that she had to be sure she was performing the spell on a dragon. And he—and the others—were the only ones that had that knowledge. Somehow he had to keep it from her, get away, and find the others. Tok, if anyone, would know what to do after that.
A low chuckling brought him to his senses, and he blinked back to himself to find Zophia staring at him with a gleam in her eye. He gulped again. It was going to be quite difficult to implement his plan with her here.
As if reading his thoughts (now there was a terrifying prospect) she stood, still grinning. "Oooooooo. Yes. Yes, I think I will. Vladimir will be so impressed!" Giggling like a schoolgirl, she pocketed the glass marble again and headed for the door with a lively step. "Don't you go anywhere now!" she called over her shoulder, as if he had a choice.
As soon as she was gone, Izzy began a cursory examination of his confines. He had no idea what she was talking about, but had a feeling he didn't want to be here when she returned to find out. For once, his curiosity was on hold.
* * *
"Sarith?"
The mint green dragon yawned and blinked open her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry T.K. I think I fell asleep. What is it?" She looked around the hiding tree's smooth metal insides. The Pagumon was also asleep, its ears twitching in its dreams. T.K. stood where she had last seen him, standing beside her.
His eyes swiveled upward. "The tree's stopped shaking. I don't know when, 'cause I . . . I fell asleep too. I tried to stand guard, but I couldn't. I'm sorry." He looked at the ground, ashamed.
"It's okay!" she returned cheerfully. "It's been a long day. All that running. Yuck." She made a face and spread her wings. "Give me a flight over a long run any day."
He grinned at her, spirits restored. "Not me! Flying hurts. My wings are still sore."
"That's because most dragons don't start flying by falling off a cliff."
The little dragon giggled. "We seem to do that an awful lot, ya know," he told her. "There was that time when Kuwagamon attacked us, then when Joe tried to climb away from Shellmon, and Biyomon when she fought Meramon. When Sora and Tai had to go rescue Joe from Unimon there were lots of cliffs to fall off of, because they were on Infinity Mountain, and Tai once said he and Matt fell off a cliff because a Mojyamon attacked them!"
Sarith blinked. "I think you guys need to stay away from cliffs from now on."
T.K. nodded.
"But you're right. I think that gray cloud thing must be gone. Huh. Wonder why it gave up?"
"Maybe it was bored because it couldn't get in," suggested the boy.
"Maybe it finally realized how annoying the people it was trying to get were!" snapped the cranky Pagumon. "And how rude they are to talk so loudly when someone is trying to sleep!"
"Sorry," the two dragons apologized automatically.
"Whatever! If the thing is gone, that means you can be gone too! Go! Shoo!" The little gray Digimon waved its fluffy ears at them, then hopped right into the wall. As before, the metal that appeared to be solid parted with a green glow and the Pagumon went through.
Sarith and T.K. looked at each other and shrugged, then followed. Outside they discovered it was just about noon, judging by the position of the sun. The Pagumon was already up a tree, picking some strange purple fruit and dropping them to the ground. At the sight of food both dragons realized they hadn't eaten at all today. Without hesitation they leapt at the fallen fruit.
"Hey! HEY! Those are mine!" screeched the In-Training Digimon, hopping up and down in fury on the branch it sat on. "You can't eat them!"
Sarith paused briefly to give him a disgusted look. "There's plenty to go around, and we haven't eaten since yesterday."
"But those are MINE!"
"Tough." Snorting a warning blast of fire at it, she scooped up one of the fruit and popped it into her mouth. It was sweet and juicy, like a ripe peach but without the pit, and she swallowed it greedily and reached for another. T.K. politely handed her one as he licked his lips of fruit juice. She thanked him graciously. Soon they had finished off the ones the Pagumon had dropped. It glared down, daring them to demand more, but the meal had satisfied them and the dragons turned to their next task: getting back up the cliff.
"Do we have to go back up there?" T.K. asked plaintively, eyeing the sheer rock wall distastefully.
"That's where the others were last," the true dragon reminded him, flexing her wings in preparation for a workout. "If any of them escaped, they would come back here to look for us. Even if they didn't, we might find some clues about where they went." She turned to look her small friend in the eye. "I'd go by myself, but I don't want to leave you down here. Besides, I could use another pair of eyes. If I carry you like last time and fly up, do you think you can make it?"
The green dragon stood up straight. "Sure, Sarith! I won't let you down!" There was a scornful snort from the tree, but the Pagumon had climbed higher to get its own meal and disappeared from view.
"All right. Um . . . come on." She headed for the nearest tree. He followed uncertainly, giving her a questionable glance as she stopped beside the thick trunk and turned to him. "Up you go," she explained. "It'll be easier for me if you get on a high branch. Less work for my wings." When he still looked hesitant she added encouragingly, "Just use your claws. They'll hold you right in. See?" Sarith jumped up and dug in with all four feet, hanging vertically.
T.K. gamely sunk his claws into the soft bark of the tree, pretending it was the cargo net on the playground as he started to climb. Sarith let go of the trunk to get out of his way, flapping up to a low branch of the tree to wait for him. By the time he made it up to her he was breathing heavy, but resolutely began climbing from branch to branch, heading higher. Sarith chuckled to herself. The kid had guts!
"Is this high enough, Sarith?" T.K. called down to her. The leaves hid him from sight, but judging by his voice he was near the top of the tree.
"That's fine!" she shouted up to him, launching herself from the low branch. This was, unfortunately, not going to be fun. T.K. was at least half her size. Carrying him while gliding to the ground was one thing. Carrying him while flying up a cliff—a very tall cliff—was another entirely.
But she wasn't going to tell him that.
As she cleared the top of the trees she spotted the small green dragon waiting for her. The Pagumon sat on the same branch, and as she neared she could hear it ranting.
"—about time you two got out of my fur! Come here and use my hiding tree and don't even ask permission and take my food and never even said thank you once! And—hey! I'm not done yelling at you yet!"
T.K. gave Sarith a grateful look as she swooped in and scooped him off the branch, using the momentum to begin her climb. "Thanks for everything!" the smaller dragon called down, waving to the Pagumon. The Digimon looked shocked, then glared, then vanished into the safety of the tree's thick foliage.
Higher and higher they climbed. Sarith soon forgot about the annoying yet helpful Digimon. She wasn't paying much attention to anything else, either. Her concentration was focused on keeping her wings flapping, on gaining altitude. It was quickly becoming a difficulty.
As her wings began to burn with exertion, the female dragon was ready to think about revising her strategy. But they were almost halfway up, and Sarith wasn't a quitter. She wasn't going to give up without a fight.
They continued to rise.
What would Brell say about a situation like this? He'd say . . . use the environment to my advantage, she thought decisively. Okay, so . . . what? It would be extremely helpful if she could catch a bit of wind, but the only breezes that were traveling in the right direction were too small to matter. She tested the air currents anyway, searching for the strongest of the small drafts heading upward and angling her wings to catch it. It helped. A little.
Good, what now? Well, she could be prepared to fly closer to the cliff side. If something happened and she lost control or faltered for a moment, at least she would be able to deposit T.K. on the vertical wall before she fell. Claws wouldn't sink into stone as easily as wood, but he should be able to hold on long enough for her to regain her composure.
By now Sarith's breath was coming in harsh gasps, and her thoughts centered on just keeping her wings beating. T.K., perhaps sensing how difficult it was for his friend, kept still and silent in her arms. Painfully she forced one wing beat after another. Her throat felt like it was on fire. Had to keep going. Wasn't much farther. Couldn't stop. For T.K. For Tok. For her friends. Had to keep trying. Had to keep. . . .
Ack! Ack, bright light! The shadow they had been flying in, caused by the cliff, was suddenly gone, blinding her with the brilliance of the noon sunlight. Realizing what this meant, Sarith lurched forward. The firm ground met her back feet. She managed to stay upright long enough to release T.K. and let him scramble out of the way, then collapsed where she stood, panting.
For a moment there was only her own ragged breathing in her ears. As it returned to normal, she could hear . . . crying? The dragon forced open one blue-green eye. At first her vision was nothing but a blur of many colors. They quickly coalesced into seven forms, huddled together not far from the ledge. A gasp came from beside her, where T.K. stood.
The Digimon were sobbing as if their hearts were broken, tears streaming down their many-colored faces. They leaned against each other for support, and their voices carried to the two dragons on the edge of the sheer rock wall.
"W-we couldn't protect them!" wailed Gomamon, his head buried under Palmon's leafy arm. Her teardrops ran down her face and fell on his bright red shock of hair.
"And now they're gone." Tears rolled off Biyomon's break. Tentomon sniffed and patted her wing. His green eyes swam.
"We could do nothing," Gabumon murmured, one arm curled around a sobbing Tokomon. "Our best efforts failed." His voice was heavy with shame.
"We should have tried to digi-volve, or something. . . ." whispered Koromon.
"Are they . . . gone forever?" sniffed Tokomon, his voice wavering. No one answered him.
T.K. couldn't stand it any longer. "Tokomon!" he screamed, running toward the group.
Seven heads whipped around. "T.K.!" The little rabbit Digimon scrambled toward his partner frantically, wild hope in his eyes. The others watched, speechless, as the two leapt and caught each other, laughing and crying at the same time, rolling around on the ground. "You're alive! You're alive!" Tokomon cried out again and again.
Sarith really didn't feel like getting up, but now the other Digimon were running over, their faces transformed from misery to cheer. She gathered her legs under her, pushed herself to her feet with a groan. But no matter how hard she tried, her wings refused to fold along her back, like they usually did. Finally she sighed and let them hang limp at her sides.
The Digimon clustered around her, babbling out in a multitude of voices. Asking what had happened, how had they gotten back, had they seen the others. Sarith shook her head sadly at that, and they quieted.
"What happened to you?" T.K. asked, joining the group with Tokomon bouncing along beside him.
Gabumon explained, his red eyes sorrowful. "We were attacked by that cloud, and tried to fight it off to save the Digi-Destined. We failed. When we awoke, we were here and they were gone." The other Digimon all nodded unhappily.
Sniffling, the little green dragon turned to Sarith. "Where did they go?"
"I don't know, T.K.," she murmured. "And . . . and I'm not sure how to find out." She sighed and sat down. Her friends did likewise, seeing that they weren't going anywhere.
"Are you okay?" worried Biyomon, gently touching one of her wings. When Sarith winced she withdrew hurriedly.
"Fine. Just sore," she assured the pink parrot.
"Yeah Sarith, you were really great!" enthused T.K., trying to look on the bright side of their situation. "I wouldn't be able to do that in a million years!"
She chuckled. "Thanks. I wish Tok had been there to see. . . ." Her face fell. So did T.K.'s. He huddled closer to the older dragon as she spoke again. "I . . . just don't know what to do anymore. I tried to be like Tok, to look out for my friends. I tried to be the leader. But I'm no good at that stuff. I can't think of anything! I want my brother." This last part came out as a whimper. A single tear rolled down her long face.
"Me too," sniffed the little dragon. He was trying very hard not to cry.
"I want Mimi!" cried Palmon.
"And Joe," Gomamon added.
"And Tai."
"And Izzy."
"And Sora."
Tokomon just nuzzled T.K. silently, his round eyes shining.
Sarith wondered if this was the first time that the humans and their Digimon partners had ever been apart. It would certainly explain their reactions; the digital monsters could barely function without their Digi-Destined. They were suffering deeply from the separation.
I want to help them, she thought sadly. It's out fault their friends are gone. The evil didn't want them at all, it wanted us. There must be something I can do. No matter how hard she thought, she couldn't come up with a single plan to find where the others had gone. She couldn't even sense the great evil anymore, and she didn't know how to put herself into a trance like Tok did. She was too tired to fly up into the sky and do a search by air. Any flying at all would be a bad idea for the next day or so. She could ask Biyomon or Tentomon to, but she didn't want them to split up any more than they already were. Finally she had to admit it; she was hopeless. If only Tok were here, or Mom or Dad or Brell—
"Oh my . . . that's it!"
The Digimon and T.K., who had been sitting quietly, jumped at her unexpected voice. They turned questionable faces to her.
"I have an idea!" the female dragon exclaimed, beginning to look excited. "I can't imagine why neither of us thought of this before! Though I'm sure we're going to get in trouble for this. I'll be grounded for months at the least, and for dragons that's a literal punishment. Tok always thinks he can handle everything by himself, too. But I don't care! I'm scared, and I don't know where else to turn to!" Her expression was one of dread and determination at the same time.
Koromon perked his long ears in her direction. "Where are you going to go?"
She set her jaw. "I'm going to go home and get my parents."
T.K.'s eyes got very large. "You're . . . leaving us?" he squeaked.
"No, no, no!" she assured him with a fond gaze. "I'm going to get my parents and bring them here. They'll be able to fix everything. They'll find the bad guys, and get all our friends back! Even if you are humans, and even if Tok did turn you into dragons."
The smaller dragon was silent for a moment. Then, "Are they going to be mad?"
"Probably," she sighed. "But at me, not you. Don't worry." She managed a weak smile. "Will you guys be okay until I get back?"
The Digimon nodded. Their vacant, lost expressions were gone. Now they had a purpose. "We will protect T.K. until your return," Gabumon announced.
"Great! Wish me luck!" She stood up and took several steps away from the group.
"Good luck!" T.K. called after her. As he watched, she was suddenly gone. There was no smoke, no fading away, no flashes of light. She had just disappeared as if she had never been at all.
They settled down to wait.
* * *
Izzy had fallen into a sort of half-doze, having found no way to break out of his confinement. He had struggled against it, but the monotony had gotten to him. If only he had his laptop! His fingers itched to type on the familiar keys. It was quite frustrating.
When the door to the stone room flew open so hard it crashed against the wall he leapt to his four feet, heart pounding hard against his ribs. Still a bit muddled, he watched Zophia stalk into the room, followed closely behind by Jakamon and a third individual whom he only saw for a second before Zophia blocked his view.
The woman wasted no time. Without hesitation, she stood before his cage and snapped her fingers three times. To Izzy's complete and total amazement, he found the iron bars surrounding him were gone, and he was standing on the carpet. The cage had simply vanished! Pushing away the sudden urge to hang around and discover just how she had done it, he leaped forward to make a getaway.
Unfortunately, Jakamon had been ready. The Digimon slithered forward and grabbed him, pinning his wings to his sides as he wrapped muscular arms around him and lifted him clear off the ground. The inhumanly powerful arms immobilized the orange dragon so that he could hardly move.
Zophia waited until his struggles ceased. They were looking each other in the eye now, and the woman had a wicked smile on her face. She reached a slender hand toward him and he tried to jerk away, but Jakamon's hold suddenly increased in pressure and he found himself unable to breathe. Feeling helpless, Izzy stilled and Jakamon marginally relaxed his grip, allowing the dragon's lungs to fill with air. As he panted for breath he felt Zophia lay her fingers on his forehead. Half fascinated, half sick with dread, he listened as she began chanting in the same tongue as before. The words slid into and over his brain like water, and he couldn't for his life have repeated them.
Izzy was beginning to feel strange. His vision was fading in and out of focus, and Zophia's voice alternately boomed in his ears and shrank to a whisper. Feeling queasy, he realized with vague surprise that the pressure of Jakamon's arms around him was gone. Was he free? He tried to make his legs work but couldn't feel them either.
Soon—not soon enough—the spell passed. Izzy found himself sitting on the carpeted floor, dazed and staring stupidly at his hands. He blinked. Hands. Covered with their familiar yellow gloves. Not claws. Hands. He was . . . human again!
The appendages he was marveling over were suddenly wrenched behind him as Jakamon grabbed them and hauled the boy to his feet. Zophia was still standing in front of him, hands now on her hips. "See, Vladimir? I told you he was human."
"Impressive." The voice was a soft baritone, male. Izzy lifted his head to watch a man in a dark brown suit step up beside Zophia, in his late thirties maybe. He wasn't very tall, about the same height as the blonde woman, with smooth brown hair framing his angular face and brown eyes a darker shade than hers. These studied Izzy piercingly, and it was his opinion that if this was indeed Zophia's teacher, they were all in trouble. One of these magic-using people was quite bad enough! And he really didn't like the way Vladimir was looking at him. "You've done well, Zophia."
She basked in her mentor's praise. "As I told you, there's six more where he came from," she told him eagerly.
He didn't respond. Unlike Zophia, he seemed to be a man of little words. But those hard brown eyes refused to leave Izzy's face, and it was extremely unsettling. Jakamon held him so tightly his hands were beginning to tingle from lack of circulation, keeping him from going anywhere.
After a moment of silence, Vladimir spoke. "How many of your friends are true dragons, boy?" His voice was even, calm.
Izzy strove to make his the same. "I can't tell you that."
"Very well." Without any other warning the man's hand came up and lightly touched the Digi-Destined's temple. Izzy felt as if he had been struck. Blackness flashed before his eyes and his head throbbed. He was abruptly out of Jakamon's grip and thrown against the wall, his precious laptop digging into his back. Vladimir pinned him there with an arm across his chest, his other hand still at his temple.
The boy's headache increased by the minute. It felt like someone was digging into his head with an ice pick, trying to expose his brain. He struggled to push the larger man away, press his hands to his head, something to stop the pain, but his limbs weren't responding.
Then he felt a strange sort of push against his brain. Not physical, he comprehended with growing horror, but mental. Vladimir's dark eyes loomed large in his vision, all he could see. He was drowning in them. Sinking farther and farther below their surface. And then something broke—
He's in my head! Terror engulfed Izzy with an icy hand. It took away all thought, all reason. The soft chuckle that wormed into his thoughts, that was definitely not his own, did nothing to alleviate his fear.
Indeed. Now behave and I won't have to hurt you any more. The powerful force of the man ruthlessly took control of his body and mind. As desperately as he wanted to fight back, to get him out of his head, he didn't know how. He'd never been in a situation like this before! He was unable to do anything as Vladimir accessed his memories. Like a movie in fast forward he watched as his whole life played before his mental eye, knowing that the sorcerer was watching too, and memorizing all he saw.
In an instant it was over. Both the presence in his mind and the hand on his temple withdrew, and the arm followed a moment later. Izzy collapsed on the ground, wrapped his arms around himself, and trembled violently. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Geesh, Vladimir." The voice was Zophia's. "I didn't think you were going to kill him."
"He was unprepared for the shock." Vladimir's footsteps moved away. "He'll recover." The door opened.
"Where do you think you're going?" Zophia didn't give Vladimir the respect of a teacher when she spoke to him.
If he minded, he didn't indicate it. "You called me to show off your progress," he stated. "I want a detailed account on what you've accomplished so far. And I don't want either of them here."
A pause. She must have nodded. "Jakamon, put him in with the others," she commanded. "Don't come unless I call for you."
The Digimon snorted. He picked up the limp boy effortlessly and glided toward the door. Vladimir shut it firmly as he passed through.
More ticked off than ever, Jakamon wasted no time making his way to the room where the other captives were kept, throwing in the human, and slamming the door closed. He was sick of being ordered around like a slave for a simple lapse of judgement!
"Give one honest opinion of an Ultimate's singing abilities to his face and you're marked for life," grumbled the serpent Digimon. "Me and my big mouth." A forked tongue flicked out briefly as he checked to make sure the door was locked, then slithered down the hall, shaking his scaly head.