Chapter 2

Pain

Julius Root woke up very slowly, rising groggily from the mists of unconsciousness until he was fully alert. However, he did not open his eyes-this was not a place he was familiar with. He needed to proceed with caution.

Root could remember what had happened vaguely, as if it had happened to someone else and he had been watching it from one side. All that was clear to him was the pain, the great aching pain in his right side. Of course. The shot. Thankfully the bullet's flight had been nearly spent, or he wouldn't have survived such a hit. As it was, his magic was completely tapped, and it felt like it had gone halfway through healing his broken ribs. The internal organs had been dealt with first, thankfully, but the ribs crackled even as he breathed. This was not good.

He could tell that he had been stripped of his gear. Well, he had expected that, though it was a disappointment nonetheless. So he was someone's prisoner now, he guessed. Someone who didn't care enough about their captive to heal him properly. Another bad sign.

Ever so carefully, Julius cracked open one eye just enough to see past the haze of his eyelashes to the space beyond. He could see a wall a foot in front of his nose, a dull steel wall. Some sixth sense left over from the prehistoric times told him that such walls were all around him. He was in a box. Okay. He could deal with that. He'd been through much worse. Still, he wasn't all that happy about the way he was being treated. Ever since he had been promoted to commander, he had kind of gotten used to being treated with a bit more respect than he was being shown now. Deciding he might as advertise his consciousness, he sat up, trying and failing not to injure his ribs any more.

The LEP's youngest-ever full commander observed his surroundings, taking note of the lack of a door, the small light bulb directly overhead, and the standard security camera in the corner. Obviously, his kidnappers wanted him to know he was always being watched. So far, they were not coming off very well in Root's mind.

Suddenly, a hidden speaker crackled to life, a cold voice coming in despite the bad reception. Julius tried not to wince as the harsh sound echoed through the small chamber.

"Ah, you're awake then," said the voice in flawless English untainted by any trace of identifiable accent. "I was most hopeful that you would survive the shot. It seems you are of a hardy race indeed, or perhaps you're just a tougher member of your species?"

Root said nothing. That was an unspoken rule here: don't talk. Don't react in any way. Don't give your enemy the advantage.

"Don't speak English?" the voice inquired in a bored sort of tone. "But of course you do, I forget-you have the gift of tongues, according to legend. I'm curious about such a gift. Can you speak the language of animals as well?"

Time to break the rule, Julius told himself silently. Aloud, he grunted, "Who are you?" Though his English was nowhere near the perfection of his kidnapper's, he could, of course, speak it, and he knew a few choice words in it if need be.

The voice laughed: a nasty rasping sound that filled the room and caused Julius to grit his teeth in pain. "Oh, my name doesn't matter here, but you may know that I am one of the creatures that live about the surface of the Earth. One of the beings you so crudely refer to as 'Mud People'. But your name, on the other hand, is ever so important-won't you share it with me?"

Again, Root shut his mouth. He appeared to be outwardly calm, but his mind was racing. How does this Mud Man know so much? This could be the whole Artemis Fowl thing over again! What am I going to do? Not give his name, that was certain, nor any information about the People either. Whatever this human wanted, he would not get it out of Julius Root.

"Mute yet again," the voice sighed. "Come now, let us not be immature. Your name, fairy man, or I shall have to punish you."

Don't react, Julius…

"Your name." The voice's tone was not so light anymore. It had a metallic note that rang throughout the boxlike room.

Don't rise to the bait. Don't give him what he wants.

"Very well, if you need some prodding-"

Noise! Horrible, terrible noise. The room seemed to shake as the high-pitched wail of a constant siren blared through the speaker. Root clapped his hands over his pointed ears, but it didn't help. Nothing could stop that. He fell to his knees, unable to contain a very slight whimper as his ribs gave a sharp crack of protest-

And then the noise stopped, filling the air with pure silence. Root lay facedown on the metal floor, allowing the cool surface on his forehead reconstruct his shattered brain until he felt himself capable of thought. This Mud Man is insane, he concluded. I need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

Several hours later, Julius sat in one corner of the room with his head on his knees, thinking hard. The voice had come back at random moments since its first appearance in this tale, accompanied by the siren when he refused to give it information. The routine was always varied: sometimes the interrogations were minutes apart when other times they were hours; sometimes the siren came first, blaring for a few seconds before the voice made its demands, or else did not come at all; sometimes the voice threatened, sometimes coaxed, sometimes just made conversation, none of which Root replied to. It was an old torturer's trick-keep the prisoner on his toes and ignorant, but always fearing the inevitable pain.

Julius was holding his own rather well so far. Like all other LEP staff, he was trained to resist pain and torture in different ways, and at the moment he was attempting to ignore the voice by concentrating on an escape plan. It wasn't doing so well, seeing as he couldn't even figure out where the door was. Just the thought was making him claustrophobic.

Suddenly, the wall directly in front of him seemed to stretch into the imprinted shape of a human! Root watched in fascination as the ordinary-seeming gray steel shifted and bubbled, stretching further and further until a tall, muscled human melted from the turmoil into the cell, followed quickly suit by a nearly identical colleague. Painfully, the elf stood and faced them, looking them over.

They were plainly dressed in black tank tops and baggy pants of the same color. Their feet were shod in black Nikes that shone dully in the dim light. Both had shaved heads and a wide variety of tattoos. Hired muscle, Julius reasoned. But, he thought to himself with a note of hesitancy, for what purpose?

The first man stepped forward and unceremoniously grabbed Root by the front of his uniform, easily pulling him up to eyelevel. The LEP's commander glared back. "What do you want?" he growled, narrowing his eyes as if he were actually in charge of this situation. Wishful thinking.

"I want you to answer a coupla questions, fairy boy, and yer gonna answer 'em, got it?" the man drawled in a distinctive American accent. "Vince, c'mere and talk to our friend."

Root knew what was coming next: real torture. The siren had just been a teaser: the employer of these idiots was going to beat the answers out of him now. There was only one option left. As the second man drew closer, Julius drew upon the faint pulsations of magic from his exhausted store and spoke, his tones layered with the low notes of the mesmer. All right, maybe he had taken a leaf out of Holly's book from her first experiences with Mud People, but it was necessary.

"You will not touch me, Mud Boy," Root said. "You will help me escape now."

The second man, Vince, sneered. "You think I'm stupid, dude? No way."

Julius pushed a little harder. Okay, maybe the guy was smarter than he looked. "Now, human."

"You know what?" said the first man. "This guy's starting to annoy me. Vince, shut him up."

"With pleasure, Dex," Vince snickered. He drew back a fist and, before Root could react, punched him in the stomach. Hard. Several more ribs shattered.

The pain was immense, unbelievable. It felt like a wrecking ball had just been driven into his side and had opened a hole that fire ants had just crawled into. Julius could not remember a time when he had hurt more. He thought he screamed, but in the red mists that surrounded his brain, he couldn't be sure.

The commander woke up five minutes later, his whole body one big mass of pain. His magic was absolutely spent, and the henchmen were closing in again. Julius closed his eyes as Dex picked him up.

"What's your name?" he heard the American drawl. His breath smelled strongly of tobacco. "Come on, tell us about yourself. Where are you from? What's your uniform for, huh? You some officer guy?"

Root clamped his mouth shut, preparing himself…

The punch hit him in the jaw. The LEP commander felt himself go flying out of Dex's grip and hitting the wall before blacking out once more, though he knew the blissful unconsciousness would not last long.

The torture had barely even started.

A/N: Ouch, poor Julius! How will he survive? Can Holly save him in time? Tune in next time for the next installment…
Many thanks to my reviewers! You make my world go 'round...perhaps I'll spin faster if I get more reviews...? (Hint hint) Ah, just a note for all you enraged Root fans foaming at the mouth, um...I make my favorite charries suffer sometimes, okay! So there's no need to go making threats on my life or anything like that, right? Right!

Stiggy: I appreciate your time and your kind review, fellow Root fan…though you probably hate me after this chapter…and yes, of course, I've read the entire series several times, including the Opal Deception. This is set shortly before that, just for future reference. I wanted to talk to you (briefly) about your Root Petition, actually. Look...I want Julius back just as much as you do, but there's two problems with your campaign. (Ha! Campaign! I'm using that word a lot lately!)
1. Root. Is. Dead. He got blown to shreds and, if that wasn't enough, incinerated in the core of the planet. I really don't think he's coming back. I know it's hard, BELIEVE ME, but...well...let him die with honor, k?
2. I don't think Eoin Colfer is going to accept a piece of paper with FF pen names on it. Real names might be better in this case, seeing as you could have just made them up randomly. That's true for real names too, but it might be more convincing with actual names.
Sorry to be so criticising. I still want my name on the petition, by the way!

Jakarutia: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like my story...though again, you might not so much after this chapter...((hides under bed as angry Root fans smash windows)) I did understand your review fine, thanks, I really do think your English is pretty good. If you ever need any help, feel free to drop me an e-mail. Thanks also for your Korean words of wisdom-you're probably right about the translation too.

For the Critics-Just realized that I left out a zero in "Neutrino 2000" in Chapter 1. Sorry about that!

Until next time, all-Huzzah!
(For all those who are foreign...more specifically, Korean ((wink wink)), that's weird Master and Commander speech for, in a nutshell, Hooray!)