Amer paced lazily along the dark corridor, running his hand across the rough surface of a wall. He wasn't sure what to tell her. To stop using portals? No, that wouldn't do. But if Mortuus got too suspicious, they'd be both dead. Hell, they'd still probably soon be, if he didn't find himself some 'cousins'. What had he gotten himself into..?
The wall's surface wavered, making him back away as a reflex. Thick vines shot through the rock and wrapped around his arms and legs, pulling him against the wall.
"But what—!" A hand surrounded by fire reached in front of his face and he knew better than to shout anymore.
"We ask the questions here," said a voice at the other end of the arm. A redheaded girl took few steps towards him. The fire threw warm colours on her expressionless and cold face. "You were the one that killed Faragonda, or am I wrong?"
"I—" Amer began, but closed his mouth in an instant. That was something he wasn't supposed to talk about.
The girl grew impatient and a frown wrinkled her face. "Don't make me use dark magic, because I will!"
"Bloom, let's not go that far," another, much softer voice spoke from few meters away. Five other girls approached the redhead, Bloom, if he heard right. Some of them seemed as angry as she was, some not that much, but they all still studied him keenly.
"We know it was you," a dark-skinned girl spoke.
"Then why do bother asking?" Amer blurted, knowing full well that someone in his position shouldn't talk back.
"Oh, that's a great question. Let's just kill him," Bloom suggested with a cold look. Before anyone could have objected, she gripped his throat with her flaming hand.
The fire dried his throat from the inside and scorched his skin. He knew he had to say it. They'd still probably kill him, but it was worth of a try.
"It was all planned," he uttered breathlessly.
Bloom's eyes widened and she pulled her hand away. "What?"
Amer tried to wrench his arms off to feel his throat, but it was no use. "She and I... We planned the whole thing."
"And we should believe that rubbish?" a blonde girl shrieked, receiving a nudge to keep her quiet.
"It's true, I swear."
"Tell us the whole thing," a pink-haired girl demanded.
Amer swallowed a lump he felt raising in his sore throat. He couldn't get away with this. "There was this one day... The one before the first attack. I was sent to kill her. But it didn't go exactly as planned..."
He had barely managed to hide when the door creaked open. The curtain would have to do as a cover.
Amer held his breath and tightened his grip on the dagger. The last thing he wanted was getting caught because of the dagger dropping from his shaking and sweating hand.
It was something he would never admit to his fellow soldiers: he was nervous. Completely panic-stricken. Had he ever wounded someone? Many times. Killed? Never. It was most likely the reason he was sent to complete this mission. Maybe it wasn't that hard. He'd just sneak up on her, slit her throat and it'd be over. Maybe there wasn't such a thing as eternal guilt.
"Finally, I've been waiting for you."
Crap. That wasn't going to help. He tried to assure himself it was just her talking to a phone. She didn't know he was there. But, oh, how wrong he was. The curtain moved from in front of him and his eyes met Faragonda's. She stood there arms crossed and eyebrows raised, waiting for him to react.
That she'd have to wait. Amer was in loss of words. Was he even supposed to say something? Probably not, but he had made a fool of himself already, so why not. "How?"
"You know those violet flowers from Galigine?" Faragonda smirked. "They have a unique and strong scent, which obviously," she tugged his cloak," has stuck to your clothes. You're probably too used to it to notice."
He got caught because of flowers? Something else he wouldn't tell the other soldiers. "And what about—?"
"The burning curse? Sheer luck, a glass of water fell over before I could sit down. Though the steam messed up my appearance, to give you some credit." Faragonda shook her head to herself and eyed him carefully. Instead of looking at the dagger he still held tightly, she paid attention to his badge.
"So, I was right." She held the badge in her hand, brushing her thumb over its surface. "You're from Mortuus's groups."
He gripped her wrist, pulling her hand off. "We don't call him with that name."
"I do." Faragonda got his hand off with almost no effort. "For me, Mortuus will never be anything more than a smug thief, whose plans I ruined when I was just a teenager. That man is a fool, completely insane if I may. He doesn't deserve loyalty."
"Stop with this," Amer demanded in a shaky tone.
Faragonda's expression softened. "He can't hear us from here." Without hesitation, she put her hand on his shoulder. "So, this is what he bases his loyalty on? Fear? I can't say I'm surprised."
Amer bit back his teeth and raised his gaze from the ground to her. "You think I haven't noticed?" He forced her hand above her head. "You think I'm somehow, oh, blissfully unaware and at his service because I wanted it? Don't pretend that you know how things are." He turned the dagger in his hand, another hand still gripping Faragonda's wrist.
Faragonda glanced down and shook her head with an unreadable expression. "I can help you."
"Yes. By dying." He swung the dagger towards her head in hopes of the blade sinking deep inside and silencing her. He couldn't stand her for much longer. He'd only start believing there was a chance for things changing.
Chances of her dying weren't getting any higher either. Faragonda moved away from the dagger and her free hand pushed it to the table. By the time he had recovered from his shock and pulled the stuck dagger off, she had freed herself of his grasp.
A hard push on the chest sent him staggering to a wall. He hit his head and for a moment only felt what was happening. Her arm pressing heavily on his throat. Her body trapping his against the wall. The dagger being pushed lightly against his side. The next thing he noticed was pair of dark blue eyes boring into his, as if they saw every bit of him and his thoughts.
"There are other ways to get you out of this," Faragonda said, pushing the dagger slightly, enough to make him sure it would pierce his skin and flesh any moment.
"You wouldn't," Amer uttered in a strangled voice, making her ease the pressure on his throat. But he had to be honest with himself; he had no idea if she would.
"There are very few things I wouldn't do," Faragonda stated in a low and cool tone. Amer was sure it was going to end there. Until she laughed.
"But it seems like you know me well enough." She stepped back and laid the dagger on the table. "Killing people like this adds to things I don't do."
"Even if it'd be your advantage?" Amer asked breathlessly before he could stop himself. He should have just escaped. But something told him that he should listen for a little longer.
"It wouldn't have been." She leaned on the table, seemingly sure he wouldn't attack again. Both of them knew it was true. "I want to help you."
"But how you possibly could?" That was it. At that moment, he knew he wouldn't back away.
"I've been thinking about something from the moment I suspected Mortuus— mind you, his note with the poison made it almost too obvious— being behind the attacks. I'll explain everything to you. Meaning that we must trust each other. Can you promise that much to me?"
"... Yes."
"Great. Then I suppose," Faragonda handed him the dagger, "that you can have this back."
He could have done it. Betrayed her. Stayed loyal to Mortuus and killed her. But he couldn't. He didn't want to. If there was hope for him, if this woman could help her, he'd be sure to do everything in his might.
Faragonda lowered her head with closed eyes. "Now, I'm afraid, I must ask you for a favor."
"Which is?"
She looked up with a smile that was warm and yet sad. "I want you to kill me."
The silence that filled the corridor was oppressive and Amer wanted nothing but to run away. The group of girls was confused and dealing with utter disbelieve. And who knew what the redhead could do if he wasn't careful...
The pink-haired girl ran her hand through her hair and rubbed her eyes. "That's impossible."
"No, I told you the truth," Amer hurried to say. "She did tell me everything. She knew she would die, if not by my hand, then by someone else's. She wanted to make sure Alfea would be prepared for the attack before she'd die."
The girls gave each other questioning looks, which eventually changed to the same understanding expressions; that was something Faragonda would have done.
"I went to the hidden room before her; she arrived few minutes before 10 AM," Amer continued. "The spell took her almost half an hour and—"
Bloom's gaze shot to him in a flash. She fixed him a stare of curiosity and perplexity. "Spell? What spell?"
Amer chewed his lower lip. This could ruin everything, but he had no escape. "I believe it was called 'Somnus'." Much for his delight, the girls didn't recognize it and could only mumble to each other with shrugs.
"What does it do?" A girl studied him from head to toes with her deep purple eyes, searching for any hint of hoax.
"She told me it puts its user in a deep sleep, when you feel nothing and already look dead. I guess she didn't want a painful death."
The group gathered in a circle, barely even trying to keep him from hearing what they said.
"Can we trust him?"
"Of course not! He's one of them!"
"I don't know, girls. I think he told the truth, which means he was Faragonda's ally."
"Geez, I don't know, why won't we just ask if he's a good guy?"
"I can do that." A brunette peeked over her shoulder before turning to face Amer. She swirled her hand, making the vines loosen and curl back inside the walls.
Amer rubbed his sore arms and carefully touched the slightly burnt part of his throat. "Thank you."
"I believe that you're on our side." The girl offered her hand with a smile that could have lit up whole Galigine in all its darkness. "I ask you the same as Faragonda did: Can you promise that we can trust each other?"
Amer stared at her hand, his lips slightly agape. Perhaps he didn't look threatening or maybe the fairies just trusted people easily. What ever the case was, he decided those girls would be good allies. He shook the brunette's hand firmly. "Yes."
Bloom sighed and shook her head in exasperation. "Flora, I swear you will be the death of us some day." Flora looked like she couldn't care less.
And neither could Amer. After all, they hadn't asked the question that could have caused everything to fall apart. And that fact he'd keep to himself.