Hee hee! I left ya at a cliffhanger last time. Well, if you read my stories, expect many cliffies. Hope you enjoy!
Thanks once more for all those reviews! You guys know how to boost morale. :)
The leader, whose name I found out to be Reana, locked handcuffs onto each of us with the help of about a dozen other Encartians. Unfortunately for us, the cuffs were injected with Lexonite.
None of the other girls put up a fight. Not even Posia. I struggled a bit, but I was still drained from the time inside our prison, and the new handcuffs made me want to crumple to the ground and pass out. In conclusion, I wasn't very helpful.
The other Encartians blocked us from behind, even though we knew—they probably did, too-we couldn't escape, anyway. It was then that my grief-stricken mind that couldn't think straight noticed…All the Encartians had blonde hair like Miss Power. I realized that Reana, the leader, only had streaks of it in her jet black hair.
A few minutes later, Reana must've discerned that I was staring. She smirked at me. "Not that it's your business," she sneered, "but, as captain, I was able to not get the full…treatment. Obviously, you won't get off so fortunately."
We kept walking, and after miles of walking past guards, differently shaded blue barren hills, and…well, more hills, we stopped in front of a ravine. At the bottom of the gully, stood a humongous palace-like building. The star-tipped spires towered over us as we began our descent.
The exterior was light blue, matching the background, making it almost impossible to see from a distance.
Huge doors opened with an equally large creeaak, making me squeeze my eyes shut in pain. Our captors continued forward, while we stumbled along, trying to actually stay on our feet.
The inside of the Encartian palace was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The interior was mostly painted white, with a few blue streaks here and there, like gashes. I had no idea why they were there; it just made the place even eerier. You may wonder why it was so frightening if the walls so bright. Well, aside from being enemy territory, the walls were covered with red and yellow stars inside of shields made out of cloth or linen.
Our stars. Lexiconian symbols. Probably ripped off of the outfits of Lexiconian girls and women who had walked these very halls.
If they weren't bound, my hands would've gone straight to my chest, where every Lexiconian had their mark of power.
I glanced over at Posia, who was walking a few paces behind me. She met my eyes, her own tearing up. I turned away to hide my own.
We'd walked past what seemed to be hundreds of doors that almost looked completely identical. But we finally came to two massive metal doors with the words "PRIVATE" painted in stark blue in the middle. I could just make out a conversation on the other end, both people seemingly arguing.
Without my super hearing, the sounds were faint, but I could pick out, "No more" "Lexiconians or Trixterians" "Captive."
It didn't really sound like the two voices were chatting over supper.
Even Reana hesitated, but she laid her glove-clad palm on the crack of the two doors. I heard a quiet beep, and the doors slid open with a scraping noise so loud, even I winced.
Inside the room (should I even call it a "room"? It was more like an entire planet of its own), a high-back black chair stood facing the wall. Two Encartians also occupied the space—one standing right next to the chair, her back to us, and another standing meekly in the corner. The Encartian in the corner noticed us, and looked like she was about to notify the other, but thought against it. She zipped across the room to talk to Reana. She spoke in hurried whispers, and her eye (like the rest of the Encartians, one was covered) darted to look at the large chair once and a while. I strained to listen, but even though I was only a few feet away, my dizzy state and my loss of powers, plus the fact that this person was talking in whispers, and not shouting like when I heard them through the door, made it so that I couldn't hear a thing.
When she was done speaking, Reana took a stiff step forward. The Encartian next to the chair was still not facing us. She looked like she was having a hushed conversation with…who? Who was in a chair that uncomfortable anyway?
Our lead captive turned back towards the ones behind us and waved her hand dismissively, making the others fly away without a word. Then she took a deep breath. "Ahem."
When her audience didn't acknowledge her, an irritated look came across her face. "Ahem," she said, a little louder.
The Encartian in the middle of the room gave an aggravated sigh and turned around, her arms crossed.
Miss Power.
The General of Encartia herself.
Standing in front of me.
I wasn't sure what emotion to let loose first. Fright? Definitely. Anger? Um…duh! How about curiosity? There wasn't much, but it was there nonetheless.
I'd heard about Miss Power—about how terrible she was, 99% of the time. But looking at her now…I thought She doesn't look so horrifying. It was true. Despite her resemblance to every other evil person on this planet, outfit-and-hair-wise, she actually had a somewhat pretty face. Her face mostly looked like "don't mess with me or I'll beat you up", but it had a charming charisma, too.
Now, though, she was exasperated. "We are in the middle of a…"
When she spotted the group of us Lexiconians, her irritation turned into a slightly sinister smile. "Oh. You found more?"
Reana bowed her head respectively. "In the north section of the East Quadrant."
Miss Power grimaced distastefully. "Ugh, Lexiconians in that region…Oh, well. Take them to the chamber, captain."
"Um..." She cleared her throat. "Might I ask, General, if, as you said earlier, we are having a...shortage, ma'am?
Miss Power's eyes flared dangerously and Reana trailed off. "This does not concern you. Do as you were directed," the General hissed. "Now."
Reana bowed awkwardly, then barked at the Encartian who was still waiting by us to get moving.
When I glanced behind me, past the dozens of other heads, at Miss Power and the ink black chair, I thought I caught a glimpse of a scaly, green, silver-clawed "hand" hanging over the armrest.
Ooooh! *evil music* *evil laughter* *evil hand-rubbing* *evil...* *evil, um...* *evil lightning!*