The List 16-20

Questioning, Blood, Rainbow, Gray, Fortitude

#16 Questioning

            “I let her go.” Brett said to himself. “I let her go? Why did I let her go?

            Brett sat at the long table in the kitchen alone. He had poured himself a cup of strong wine, but had not touched a drop of it. He was far too occupied with staring off into space to drink.

            “I let her go!” he yelled, becoming angry with himself.

            Tikki had been caught; Tikki! And if they had Tikki, Kenny and Damien were not far from being caught as well. With those three locked away, things would have definitely gotten easier for the Slayers and the Hunters. They had her, and he let her go. Not only could they have captured her brother and her cousin, but they could have had a shot at getting her dragon as well.

            “But I let her go.”

            Why? Why did he let her go?

            “Okay,” he said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the wooden table, “option one: I’ve gone temporarily insane. That would totally suck, but it would explain a hell of a lot. Option two: I’ve gone soft and she bewitched me with those gorgeous eyes of hers. Not as easy to explain to them as option one, but still understandable in a way. Option three,” Brett paused a moment before saying option three aloud, “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

            He straightened up in his chair.

            “No, no I couldn’t. Because if I thought it was the right thing to do then I would be siding with her, I would be siding with the Gandros and against the Slayers, which just can’t happen. It just can’t. She’s a Gandro and I’m a Slayer. We’re mortal enemies for f**k’s sake!” he yelled, standing up quickly.

            Brett stood before his invisible audience for a moment before sinking back into his chair. He went over his options again silently. For a split second, he thought he could see her sitting at the other end of the table, smiling at him. He blinked and she was gone.

            Taking a deep breath, Brett leaned forward, resting his face in his hands.

            “I let her go.” He groaned.

 

#17 Blood

            Toryn unbolted the door and followed Jynx down the stone staircase.

            “I don’t understand how you think he’s down here. The General may be off his rocker when it comes to some things, but this is his son we’re talking about.”

            “Kelik is not his son.” Jynx growled. “He’s my brother and he’s down here.”

            When they reached the end of the stairs, Toryn grabbed a torch that was on the wall.

            “Well,” he said, “where is he?”

            Jynx closed her eyes and sniffed the damp air of the dungeon. After a quick moment, she hurried off down one of the passages. Toryn followed.

            “Whether Caleb-“

            “Kelik.” Jynx snapped.

            “Kelik… is the General’s real son or not, he raised him like his own. Why would he do this all of a sudden?”

            Jynx made a sharp right.

            “Because Kelik remembered what he was and what the General did to us.”

            Jynx quickly stopped.

            “What?”

            “Shh.”

            Jynx sniffed the air again. She growled softly as a figure came from the darkness in front of them. She motioned Toryn not to reach for his weapon. He obeyed and moved the torch so the light shown on the figure.

            “The gods save us.”

            Kelik stood before them, covered with blood. Toryn went to go to him, but Jynx prevented him.

            “He’s hurt.” He protested.

            Jynx shook her head. “It’s not his blood.”

            Toryn could tell Kelik was trembling.

            “Kelik? Are you all right?” Jynx asked, slowly moving toward her brother.

            Kelik did not move until he felt his sister’s hand on his shoulder. He allowed her to wrap his arm around his neck and he leaned on her slightly.

            “I’m covered in blood.” He said.

            “Yes you are.” Jynx replied.

            “I killed them. I couldn’t control it.”

            “It’s okay, you’ll learn.”

            Toryn took his friend’s other arm and helped him walk.

            “How many?’ Toryn whispered.

            Jynx glanced over at him quickly.

            “There are nine different blood scents on him.”

            “Twelve.” Kelik breathed, staring off into the darkness. “Jynx, will it come off?”

            “Blood always washes off.” She paused. “It’s the memory that’s difficult to wash away. But don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

            “I knew those men.”

            “It doesn’t matter.” Jynx said softly as they approached with staircase. “Blood is blood.”

 

 

#18 Rainbow

            “Red?”

                “Rage; passion.” Nigel paused, leaning forward in his chair. “Blood.” He paused again. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

                “All right.” The doctor scribbled something. “Orange?”

                Nigel closed his eyes and smiled.

                “Tropical, warm, the smell of citrus.” He paused and his smile disappeared.

                “Nigel?”

                “I don’t want to talk about it.”

                The doctor scribbled again.

                “Yellow?”

                “Wallpaper.”

                “What wallpaper?”

                “The wallpaper on the walls in the basement.” Nigel paused. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

                “Green?”

                “Money.” Nigel said, standing up.

                “What money Nigel?”

                “I don’t know.” Nigel answered, his voice getting louder.

                “Blue?”

                “Her eyes.”

                “Whose eyes?”

                “I don’t want to talk about that.” Nigel growled.
                “Indigo?”

                “Flowers.”

                “Which flowers?”

                “I don’t know.” Nigel ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration reaching its peak. “The ones in her hair.”

                “Whose hair?”

                Nigel did not answer.

                “Nigel, whose hair?” the doctor’s voice rose.

                “I don’t want to talk about that!”

                “Violet?”

                “I don’t know!”

                “Nigel, violet?” the doctor’s voice grew louder again.

                “Her favorite color!”

                “Whose favorite color?”

                “I said I don’t want to talk about that!”

                “Who is she, Nigel?” the doctor yelled, leaning forward.

                “I don’t want to talk about it!”

                “You came to me for help.”

                “Stop it!”

                “How can I help you if you don’t talk about what’s really bothering you?”

                “Enough!”

                “Who is she, Nigel!?”

                “My wife!”

                Silence fell. The doctor sat back in his chair. Nigel was practically in tears. The doctor smiled.

                “Again, red?”

                Nigel slumped back into the cushioned chair, taking deep breaths to calm himself. After a long silence, he answered.

                “My wife’s blood. She’d dead.”

                The doctor scribbled something.

                “Orange?”

 

 

#19 Gray

            “What was Deacon talking about before?” Frankie asked, lying down on the bed.

            “Deacon talks about a lot of things. You’ll have to be a little more specific.” Jason said, continuing to examine whatever was in his hand.

            “He said something about his eyes; the magician they found yesterday.”

            “His eyes were gray.”

            “Is that bad or something?”

            Jason placed the object down on his desk and turned around.

            “You know,” he said, smiling, “the last time I had a beautiful girl on my bed we had a much different conversation.”

            “Don’t change the subject.” She laughed. “And don’t even bother thinking about that because it’s not happening.”

            “Well, we got pretty close the other day,” he grinned, crawling on to the bed and on top of Frankie, “I’m willing to risk another black eye to try again.”

            Frankie giggled, pushing Jason off her. Jason complied, sighing, and got up off the bed. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he looked down at Frankie, who was still lying on his bed.

            “What do gray eyes mean?” she asked. “Is it something bad?”

            Jason sighed again and sat down on the edge of the bed.

            “The color gray, when it comes to eyes, refers to a magician who had been drained.”

            “Drained? What does that mean?” she asked, her curiosity eating away at her.

            “When a magician is drained, it means that a sorcerer-“

            “Bad guy.”

            “Right.” Jason nodded. “A sorcerer has literally sucked every ounce of magic from the magician’s body and absorbed it into his own. And when that happens, somehow the color of the magician’s eyes is drained as well and they turn gray.”

            Frankie’s smile disappeared as Jason explained. There was a short silence.

            “And I used to think that gray eyes were really hot.” Frankie said.

            Jason laughed. Frankie joined him. Jason stopped and listened to her laughter. Seeing that he was no longer laughing, Frankie sat up. He placed a hand on her cheek.

            “No more talk of gray eyes.” He whispered.

            Nodding, she smiled, leaned in, and kissed him.

 

 

#20 Fortitude

            Markus’ men had weapons out and pointed at the crew.

            “Listen up outlaws,” Markus announced, approaching the center of the ship. “This is a once in a lifetime occurrence. None of you will be arrested. I just want her.”

            With his pistol, Markus pointed to Tristan.

            “Drop your weapons.” He demanded.

            The pirates looked around at each other, then to Tristan, and then to the soldiers surrounding them. They all knew that as the Captain of the Royal Guard, Markus never just let pirates go. But they also knew that there was no other outlaw in the world that Markus wanted more than Tristan. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. All they had to do was surrender Tristan.

            Tristan stood by the sort staircase that led to the upper deck where the helm was. She had one hand on the holster on her belt where her pistol hung, and her eyes were locked with Markus’. Her for the entire crew. It would be a sacrifice she was willing to make to save them all.

            Before Tristan had a chance to move, Altair stepped in front of her.

            “If it’s the captain you’re wanting, you’ll have to go through me.” He said, raising his sword to point it al Markus.

            Jolts stepped next to Altair and pointed his pistol at Markus.

            “That same goes for me.”

            Nokel joined the two men.
            “And me.” The young boy squeaked.

            Before he knew it, every pirate on board had stepped closer to their captain and had weapons aimed at Markus. Upon noticing, Markus’ anger seemed to pop. He cocked his pistol.

            Leo was standing to the right of Markus and Richard to the left. Both had their pistols pointed at Tristan. Tristan’s gaze floated to both of them before locking with Markus’ eyes once more.

            Heaving a heavy sigh, Leo took a few steps forward, turned around, and aimed at Markus. A moment passed by and Richard did the same.

            “Leo?” Markus growled.

            “Sorry Markus, but if you want her-“

            “You’re going to have to go through us as well.” Richard finished.

            By this point, Markus’ face was bright red. He looked back at Tristan. She simply smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and aimed her pistol at Markus.

            “I thought there was no honor amongst thieves.” Markus mused.

            “You’ll notice the keyword is thieves.” Tristan cocked her pistol. “Doesn’t say anything about pirates.”