In Her Element

Frederick was crying on the inside. He knew he had to be the one to take charge now, as the bodyguard was obviously too distraught. As he stood there and watched Rupert crying on the bed, he listened to the man berate himself in his thoughts, mentally slapping himself silly.

Obviously his judgment about Rupert was slightly off—the man did care for his charge completely, but apparently something had caused him to give her up. He had no time, though, to delve into that matter; there were other things that held priority.

“You do know they will get rid of us, most likely permanently, when we’ve stopped being useful to them?”

Rupert looked at him and nodded thoughtfully. “I was counting on it,” he whispered hoarsely, “so I would not have to live with the guilt of giving Almyra into....” Rupert let the rest of the sentence go unsaid; they both knew that giving up was the coward’s way out, yet Rupert did not care anymore.

Frederick tested the feel of Rupert’s thoughts and swallowed. He meant what he said. It was now or never. He had to rescue Almyra or die trying, as clichéd as that sounded. But, “I, for one, have no intention of dying. I plan on getting Almyra, and if possible, myself out of here.” The bodyguard’s thoughts became hopeful as Frederick said this, with a tinge of sadness and regret. He wanted so badly to take back what he had done, but was too ashamed to do anything. Frederick seized on that, knowing that he had to play this right, or risk losing his only chance.

He walked over to Rupert and grasped the man by his shoulders. “Are you willing to do what it takes to get Almyra out of here?” He stared the man down, helped by the fact that Rupert was sitting, and put intensity behind his gaze like he had never done before.

All I need from you is a distraction when the time comes, to pull away as many of the boys that you could. I could take down whoever is left and make the escape.

Frederick leaned back, feeling a pang of guilt as he looked at Rupert’s glazed eyes. He had never made a habit of compelling people with his Spirit, having felt that everyone deserved to control their own actions. He hated having to resort to such low tricks, but it was necessary for his plan, lest Rupert change his mind at a crucial moment.

Frederick knew that the bodyguard wanted to help, but there was only one way to make sure the man would not back out. He would let Rupert know exactly what was at stake, and if the man was completely unwilling to assist Frederick, he would be able to overpower Frederick’s control in his mind.

They will catch you eventually, and possibly torture you before they kill you. And when you are dead, who knows what they might do to your body—it will be beyond recognition. Whatever is left, at any rate, will be.

Frederick leaned back again, and this time saw a steely glint in Rupert’s eyes, a much needed determination. Apparently the bodyguard did not need much persuasion—he wanted to help so very badly, to make amends—but Frederick left a lingering influencing thought in the man’s mind as a security, as much as he hated to do so.

The night moved along too quickly for Frederick’s liking, but he managed to make an almost adequate plan to get Almyra out of there and to safety. He left Rupert’s room slightly before dawn, knowing he would not be able to function normally and well enough for the rescue mission without any sleep.

Walking through the long, dark corridors, Frederick found himself taking a turn earlier than necessary to get to his room. The route he was now taking took him past Almyra’s room, and suddenly he found he could not resist checking in on her. He reached her room and slowly, careful not to make a sound, opened the door with the secret key that he had managed to obtain and silently slipped into the room.

The room was dimly lit by a dwindling candle, allowing Frederick to see Almyra almost clearly. She was on her side, facing him, and was clutching the blanket tight, her knuckles a stark white in the near-darkness. Frederick sent out a small probing thought, and nearly yelled out as he caught a quick glimpse of her nightmare before pulling out.

Frederick so badly wanted to wake her—and be there to comfort her—but he settled for sweeping her curls, damp with sweat, off her forehead and giving her a soft kiss in their place. Her face and fingers relaxed and she moaned softly. At that sound, he felt a flutter in his chest that stayed with him the rest of the night, even in his own room as he tried to catch some sleep before the big night.

Almyra woke up and immediately felt the palpable tension in the air. She could hear it talking to her and she did not like what it was telling her. It whispered like the wind, pulling all her doubts forward and making her nervous and jittery. Her time was up.

The thought shocked her like icy water chilling her to the bones—in the most horrible way possible. The worst thing was she was not even going to go for a good purpose; this was for a bunch of power-hungry fanatics who believed in some legend in a way that would not at all benefit anyone but themselves.

Ironically, although Almyra apparently held a main role in the legend, she had never heard of it. That is, apart from the stories that were passed down through generations, of which everyone had heard. But those too were only plausible in her mind due to her connection to them. Had she not had the power of the Elements in her, more likely as not she would have grown up the skeptic.

She was sliding out of her bed, ready to begin yet another day of musings, of being stuck in this dingy place, (although now with a hint of anticipation and hope for another visit from Frederick,) when the door to her room was pushed open and two girls were shoved in, followed by a man whom Anita had never seen before.

“They are to prepare you,” he commanded, his tone as abrupt as his words. “You are to allow them to do so, without complaint.”