"Mr. Hallster, you have visitors," the rather large officer addressed the prisoner in a sarcastic tone, using his baton to tap on the specialized cell door before opening it. He turned to look at Wildwing and Duke. "Just you two going in?"
Nosedive and Grin had been asked to meet up with Tanya to further discuss using some of the Council's new technology against Old Ways magic. Nosedive thought, given his outburst earlier, it'd be best for Duke to go with Wildwing and try to get the prisoner to talk to them.
Prior to coming down to the sublevel two Council officials assured the four male ducks that the new cell the prisoner was in would keep him from using his magic; they had purposely brought a portable version of the specialized cell back with the prisoner when Mallory had requested to speak with him.
If they could somehow convince the prisoner to give them the spell information, the Council had mentioned other Old Ways Worshippers that could use the information to reverse the spell. These particular worshippers had been reverted back to their old selves; the Old Ways magic was forever bound to them, but it didn't have a hold on their lives like it did those who used the dark magic regularly.
So it was possible that—with the right information—they could perform the reverse spell on Wildwing and cure his short-term amnesia.
"Yup, just us two," Duke answered to the guard. The guard didn't say anything in return, only pressing a few buttons on the console inside the door he had opened. It beeped and another door past the first one slid open. The officer stepped to the side and gestured for the two to enter.
As they passed him he said, "Just knock three times when you're ready and we'll buzz you out. Knock repeatedly if there's any trouble and we'll come busting in, okay?"
Wildwing gave the officer a rather nervous glance but Duke simply nodded to the rather burly duck.
When they were inside the hallway the door behind them slid shut with a hiss. At the end of the short hallway was a cell with glass-like bars. Both Wildwing and Duke slowly approached them.
"'ello?" Duke called when they reached the end. They couldn't enter the cell obviously, but even with how small it was they couldn't see anyone inside.
Until, around the corner, emerged Farrin Hallster. He was in Puckworld-issued prison garb: solid light blue scrubs with a simple darker blue silhouette of a duck holding up of the Drake DuCaine mask embroidered on the left breast.
He was skinny with unkempt brown feathers and reddish hair. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheek held the same zigzag scar symbolizing his allegiance to the Old Ways magic.
Farrin looked at the two peculiarly, focusing his attention on Wildwing. He smiled after a few seconds.
"You have spell on you!" he giddily sang, skipping to the back of his cell. "I recognize newbie Sprocket's magic anywhere!"
Duke cleared his throat slightly and took a step forward. "So Sprocket messed up da spell?"
Farrin eyed Duke suspiciously. "The spell is working, it isn't not working! It is in fine order."
Duke cocked his head slightly. "But wasn't da spell suppose' ta freeze 'im and not wipe his memories?"
Farrin was quiet again as he looked at them. Springing up from his seated position on the floor he quickly closed the gap between himself and Wildwing, causing Wildwing to take a step back out of alarm. "Memories are lost? Are you without memories?" he asked Wildwing.
"Um, some," Wildwing answered quietly.
"Oh dear, I see. I see I see I see! I thought you only teleported away, far far away." Farrin jumped around his cell some more. "Only a few words difference, the freezing and lost spells. Sprocket is new, and new Sprocket probably mixed them up. Oh well, he's been doing really really well." Farrin, seeming to forget about his visitors, began humming as he idly traced the far wall with his fingers.
"Um, Farrin?"
Farrin turned to look at Duke, surprised. "Oh! You're still here, yes?"
"Uh, yup, still 'ere."
"Are you unhappy with the lost memories, lord slayer?" Farrin's voice grew cold quickly and he addressed his question to Wildwing.
Wildwing, unable to find his words, nodded.
"It is unwise to be unhappy with spells. We've bestowed magic unto you, and you should feel privileged that it was given to you." Farrin came closer to the cell door, glaring at Wildwing. "Are you unhappy?" he asked again.
Duke took a step forward, between Wildwing and Farrin. "Farrin, we mean no disrespect to da spell. But wit'out his memories he can't feel guilty over slaying yer lord. He doesn't remember even doin' it."
Wildwing, behind Duke, frowned. The ex-master thief was playing a dangerous game with this nutcase.
Farrin's face was unreadable as he stared at Duke. After several tensely quiet moments Farrin tapped his bill thoughtfully, turning around and pacing his small cell. "You have a point, you have a point indeed.
"If we kill him later, it'll be pointless. He won't understand why we're killing him. There'll be no regret for murdering our lord, and regret we must have."
Duke, afraid to say anything, simply watched Farrin. Wildwing stepped to the side so he could see inside the cell again, but let Duke remain close to the bars.
Farrin continued to pace, one of his hands folded under the bottom of his bill and the other crossed over himself in earnest concentration.
"You don't remember slaying our lord?" Farrin asked Wildwing nonchalantly, stopping in the center of the cell.
"No," Wildwing answered. Like Duke, he was afraid to say the wrong thing and kept his answers simple.
"That's not good. That's not good at all," Farrin mumbled some more to himself, resuming his pacing.
"I guess we must reverse it then, prior to your murder."
Wildwing opened his beak to say something, but Duke brought up his hand, gesturing him to remain silent. "Will you tell us how ta reverse it?" Duke asked Farrin.
Farrin laughed hard, almost as if he was trying too hard. "You cannot reverse it! It must be done by a true magian of course!"
"O' course," Duke lamely agreed.
"It is easy to do, no problem. Words words and more words are all that's needed!"
Both Duke and Wildwing nodded. "What kinds of words?" Wildwing asked.
"The beautiful language of the Old Ways, of course!" Farrin chastised Wildwing good naturedly. "It is a simple rhythm of a connected ancient lexis … it makes the world and breaks it on the whim of its user."
"It sounds like it might be a beau'iful language," Duke agreed.
"Might be? There is no might about it!" Farrin, feeling protective, waltzed up to the cell bars. "It is a gorgeous language!"
"But we haven' heard it," Duke gently argued. "We have ta hear it ta know fer sure."
Farrin, in his pride, began speaking in the ancient tongue as he danced around his cell. Duke and Wildwing glanced at each other but kept quiet.
When Farrin was finished, he looked at Duke and Wildwing defiantly, his hands on his hips. "See?"
Duke and Wildwing nodded. "Yup, you're right, t'is a gorgeous language," Duke agreed. "What did ya say?"
"There is no good translation to our filthy language," Farrin responded sadly. "It is in a class of its own. But, if I wasn't in this icky cell you would be feeling really guilty right now!" Farrin pointed accusingly at Wildwing but giddily laughed as he spoke.
"He'd have 'is memories back?" Duke asked hesitantly.
"Yup yup!" Farrin sang, still dancing around his cell.
"Well, t'anks fer talking wit' us Farrin," Duke said, keeping his face expressionless. He gestured with his head for Wildwing to knock on the door.
Farrin, still dancing around, smiled. "I love talking, but it's even more fun to jump!"
"I see that," Duke smiled at the prisoner, taking a step back. "We'll be back later, 'kay?"
"Visitors are always fun!" Farrin agreed, still not really paying attention to them.
Wildwing knocked three times, and the door leading out hissed open. Before Farrin noticed or could say anything the two ducks quickly left the hallway.
As the door hissed the same officer from before walked up. "Nice work there, L'Orange."
"Heh, t'anks," Duke answered. "Got it all on tape?"
The officer pointed over to the security room across the hallway. "Sure thing. We'll hand the surveillance over to the Council, and hopefully one of their reformed duckies can perform the spell."
"Sounds great. Are any of d'ese reformed ducks nearby?"
"Don't know; you'll have to take up the Council on that."
The officer led Duke and Wildwing to the elevator before returning to the security room.
"You think it'll work?" Wildwing asked as the elevator slowly travelled up to the main floor.
"Dunno Wing. But t'at kook didn't seem like da kind ta pull a fast one, at least."
"Heh, yeah. I wonder if that happens to all of them when the dark magic starts to take over."
"From what I' been told and what I' read, it takes da very essence of you and darkens it. If you're a bit loopy ta begin wit', though, I imagine it might not fix it as much as play off it."
"So crazy stays crazy?"
"Pretty much."
Wildwing was quiet as he thought for a moment. "If, if I was in your shoes and you in mine, would I have taken charge in there?"
Duke gave Wildwing a side glance. "I didn' really take charge in d'ere. I just know how to con ducks—a rather bittersweet talent, I might add."
"I'm just feeling so … useless to you guys."
This time Duke turned his full body towards Wildwing. "Wing, I understand t'is is hard, but that ain't why yer makin' the switch, right? We don't expect you to do this, Wing—and we don't want you ta do this if da only reason you got is because yer feeling useless."
Wildwing shook his head. "It's not why I'm doing this, Duke—promise. I do feel useless to you guys, but I still feel like the memories are there. And Mallory … I know this sounds stupid, but ever since I met her I've felt this … this connection. She's my lifemate, I know, but without my memories she's just my friend. But I want to do this—I need to, for her."
"It's not stupid ta feel something fer someone that's been a huge part of your life fer a while, memories or no memories."
The rather antique elevator dinged and the doors slid open, revealing the main floor. Officers and officials alike were scurrying about the place, performing their daily routines on the base.
"Have you and Tanya been together as long as Mallory and me?"
Duke smiled slightly. "Nah. You and Mall'ry were an item not long after we arrived on Eart'. It took a lot longer fer me to convince Tanya. We started datin' about a year after you lovebirds."
The two stepped off the elevator, spotting Nosedive, Grin and Tanya on the other side of the room talking with a couple of officials.
"Mallory and I … we were really in love?" Wildwing asked, not immediately realizing his choice of words.
Duke glanced at him. "Yeah, you are. I know it doesn't feel right sayin' it, Wing, but everything about yer feelings toward Mal are very real and very present."
They continued the walk in silence, Wildwing only briefly glancing at the ex-thief before letting his eyes wander to the ground, distracted by his own thoughts.
Mallory grunted a little as one of the hooded worshippers shoved her harshly through the thick snow. While the storm had only just begun, much of the less-traveled areas were already blanketed in a thick coat of white.
And without her jacket that they'd taken from her, Mallory was feeling every bit of it.
She picked up her pace as best as she could, turning to look back at the Raptrin, who appeared to be the leader of the cult. He was a few yards away and to the side of Mallory, surrounded by about four of his hooded brethren.
Mallory had no idea where they were going, but she had an idea as to why. During the phone conversation—before they decided to zap her with electricity and knock her out—she had heard Nosedive's frantic voice on the COM.
They were using her as bait, and there was only one duck that this misguided flock would want in trade for her.
Her breath had become ragged as her lungs fought the bitter cold. Her extremities were almost numb from the damp snow penetrating her clothes, but at this point she was equally numb to its effects. She felt the hooded duck behind her approach her and pull on the cuffs chaining her hands behind her back.
The pull slowed her down and she saw the rest of the hooded figures gather in a large circle around her.
The Raptrin came into view and looked down at her.
"Your will is strong, and you fight like a warrior. You'd be a fine addition to our community."
Mallory, despite the situation, scoffed at him. "In your dreams, lizard-lover."
The Raptrin grinned derisively at her, glancing briefly at his hooded minions currently chanting away in unison in the large circle they had created around them. He looked back to Mallory and leaned in close to her.
"I'll tell you a secret, my dear. I don't care about Dragaunas, or Wraith, or any of those disgusting reptiles," he whispered coolly.
Mallory had leaned back from the Raptrin's approach, but her leaning stopped and her brow furrowed at his statement.
Seeing that he had her attention, the Raptrin's smile grew. "I'm just fond of the limitless power they stupidly gave me. Every worshipper makes me stronger, and soon I'll be able to control minds, teleport, and—while our Lord Wraith never had the power to—folklore says I'll be able to manipulate time itself."
Mallory stared at him with disdain. "Then your mind's not warped from the dark magic; you're just a pathetic excuse for a duck."
"Raptrin, my dear, and we are of a pure race that shall never be tainted by the likes of your mutt ancestry … even though you are such a fine specimen of one." The Raptrin brought his hand up to brush Mallory's cheek, but she quickly jerked away from him.
This didn't seem to bother the Raptrin at all. "It's okay, your beauty will live on in martyrdom."
Mallory's jerk reaction knocked her nearly off balance in the snow. She struggled to maintain standing, her arms instinctively pulling on the cuffs to try and separate them for balance. Despite her struggle, however, she did not miss the Raptrin's comment. "Wha—what?"
"You don't actually think I'd let you live through this little charade, did you? My brethren follow me because they worship our Dark Lord," the Raptrin's voice lowered again to prevent his subordinates from hearing him. "And they fully expect the Strike Force to pay for the death of their king."
"Then why are we here?" Mallory asked, her voice hoarse and exhausted from the cold.
"Why, you're the cheese, my lovely, that brings all the mice out of hiding."
Mallory glared at him but did not respond. The snow around them was falling heavily now and the wind pierced every inch of her exposed body. The worshippers around her had stopped chanting, though nothing seemed different or out of the ordinary.
If they had indeed casted a spell it wasn't readily apparent who or what it targeted.
When the Raptrin did not receive a response his smile lessened into a smug grin and he turned his attention to his followers. "Let us begin the protection spell and barricade our surroundings from intrusion!"
Mallory watched as the hooded ducks expanded their circle by stepping back and turning their backs to her and the leader. Their chanting resumed, though with more intensity and volume. A black smoke began to form at their feet, though this time the smoke moved outwards and disappeared into the snowy air.
With the leader inches next to her and the cuffs and injuries slowing her movements, Mallory could only stand and watch as her teammates walked into a trap.