Stolen Hearts; Chapter Thirteen

Cala opened her eyes slowly, letting the tide of light seep in gradually beneath her sheltering lids. Her hair had fallen in wisps across her face like smoke on a zephyr. Inside, her mind was in turmoil, she felt deep pains down her spine but couldn’t remember why. Slowly she raised herself to find herself sat in a bed, a very clean bed and Cala kept her eyes cast downwards as she tenderly ran her fingers over the areas of her back within reach. Nothing there, just pain, invariable and numbing pain.
Light flickered out of the corner of her left eye. Cala's head shot up, feral lightning streaking down from the storm in her soul. But all was serene, not a noise, no chat, no shuffling or rustling of life just quiet and the sound of rolling thunder that was always there in the background. It was almost eerie, almost but not quite. Cala took in her surroundings guardedly.

She was in the school’s ward; it was of course a large room with another one of these ceilings so high they became seemingly continuous. The room was rectangular with a mahogany double door at one end and a mammoth pair of gold curtains at the other. The floor was tiled white and the walls were cream. There were ten beds, five on each of the longer sides; each had its own modest couch for visitors and a bedside table of varying colours.
Cala glanced quickly at her own table and smiled. It was a dilapidated orange with a shabby lamp but on it was a pile of crisp envelopes. She counted the pile quickly, eight cards in total. She opened the envelopes from Hannah, Nicola, James, Connor, Luke, and the twins. The two remaining letters Cala stared hard at. One was from Simon and the other from Donny. Cala closed her eyes, picked them up and then took Simon's card and hid it under her mattress.

Not today.

She couldn’t explain it, receiving get well cards felt weird as it was but there was something about Simon’s name scrawled across the white envelope that sent a deep vibration through the back of her skull. Then there was Donny’s letter and in comparison it looked so much more, she frowned trying to peg her conclusion just right, innocent.

She turned back and opened it. Inside was a get-well-soon card of the same standard as the rest but out of it a small note fell.

Nov.03.2058 Back gates.
We need to talk.
Donny.

Cala frowned at the abruptness of the note, and then frowned again at the date which was two days from now.
To her left the curtain hung, swaying slightly in the air conditionings breeze. Through it came the light that had caught her eye as a second wave of lightning flashed by. Cala stood up slowly and took a step towards the curtains. Steadily she reached out her hands and griped each side of the curtains parting. Cala took a short breath, flung them right open and gasped.

Below was a colossal drop, one side of a beautiful gorge, carved out of the landscape deep into the bowels of the earth. At its base was an entwining river called Theso, full of deep greens and coral blues. If you were lucky enough you may also catch the smallest of glimpses of silver flashing occasionally on its surface. Around the river was rainforest, dense and unyielding. One could only imagine the noise of its wildlife down in its depth. The opposite side of the gorge was jagged to the brim with knife edge rocks, what shrubs had managed to brave its face couldn’t hide the rocky razor claws.

Cala’s head pricked up and she spun around violently, the hairs on her body standing on end. Not far off a door opened and clinked shut with finality, footsteps tapped rhythmically along the flooring. She whipped her hair back off her face, raising her chin in defiance as a single man walked through the door. Rage boiled within her, surging through her veins like magma. Ready for anything, adrenaline radiating from her very core she watched cautiously as he came to stand less than a yard away. The magma cooled and hardened inside her as she started frowning avidly at Sir Oswald Grey.

They both hung there, a picture of tension, each waiting for the other to break eye contact like a childhood blinking contest with a venomous twist of hatred. Cala squared up to him from across the room but the prime minister didn’t flinch. Eyes still locked together she began to frown again, her curiosity deepening with the silence.

What does he want?

A door in the wall to her right creaked and swung open, out stepped a slight young lady with coffee skin dressed in neat pale blue. Cala broke eye contact to see her properly and cursed silently as Sir Grey didn’t so much as blink at the nurse’s presence.

"Sir Grey! What are you-" the nurse glanced around the ward swiftly "Miss Hunt! Get back into bed now!" She squirmed.
Cala raised her eyebrows sceptically but was too taken aback at the authority in her voice to make much of an argument. She glanced cautiously at Sir Grey once again and then returned to her bed under the stern gaze of the young nurse.

"Vanessa, nice to see you again," Sir Grey cooed reviling a perfect set of pearls. Cala pretended to gag. The young nurse shook her head making her short black hair bob all over the place. Her rosy cheeks becoming one shade rosier.

"You shouldn’t be in here Minister. Visiting hours ended at seven sharp,"
Cala glanced at the time on her bed side clock, 11.43, and smiled smugly inwardly.

"I need to have a quick talk with Cala now she’s awake," Vanessa opened her mouth to retort but Sir Grey was too fast "I know, viewing hours! This is important and I'm away first thing tomorrow. Five minutes?" He raised his hands skywards as if to say ‘what can I do’.

Vanessa looked like she was considering it and she turned to Cala with a questioning look on her face
"Give him ten minutes," Cala said curtly. The nurse looked surprised but she wasn’t going to argue with Cala, even if she was in a hospital bed. She raised her eyebrows slightly and turned to leave the room again. Nodding in the direction of the only other girl in the room she grunted.

"Don’t wake her. Ten minutes and that’s it!" and then she was gone.
Sir Grey walked over to the other girl to check she was asleep. Reassured he sat down on the sofa next to Cala’s bed.
"Ten minutes?" he questioned.

"You’re on your own for the first time in years. It must be serious," Cala shrugged in her bed. When he made no inclination of replying Cala snapped at him "So what do you want?"
Sir Grey sighed, his whole frame quaking under his mass. Cala rolled her eyes, he didn’t care, whatever this was about obviously wouldn’t make much of a difference to him; he was just putting on a show as usual.

"Look Cala,"
"Miss Hunt," Cala corrected, her eyes glinting mischievously.

"Miss Hunt," He paused in case she added in something else, she didn’t "I know you think we’re on different sides at the moment in the middle of this war. I’m leading the Whites to their victory and you’ve spent your life doing," He paused to find the right word, "jobs for the Black Nation,"

Cala was starting to see where this was going and the minister’s ignorance was already starting to show but Cala held her tongue so that he could keep digging himself further into that hole he always put himself in.

"Miss Hunt I do believe you need to consider your options here. After all you owe the Black Nation nothing, they cast you out; didn’t want you anymore. But we," Sir Grey spread his arms wide "We have given you sanctuary. We could have hung you and lets be serious, the Black's could never win this war, don’t you agree?"
Cala sucked in as much oxygen as she could through her clenched jaw and prepared herself to say her next few words with some control.

"Sir Grey I’m going to cover several points with you here and please," Cala smiled her voice dripping with sarcasm "please excuse my bluntness,"
Sir Grey shrunk slightly in his seat, aware he had just set loose Cala’s tongue.

"Firstly, I’m not stupid! I’ve continually considered my options, I don’t have a lot to work with right now though really do I?" Cala didn’t wait for an answer as she carried on "Secondly I owe the Black Nation everything! If it wasn’t for them I would have been murdered years ago and I sure as hell wouldn’t be a threat to you. Next being ‘cast’ out is a fine thing when you want it and even I know you don’t think for a second they don’t want me, we both know it was my doing and my doing alone. Then there is the matter of me being hung. Never! I will not hang by your hand and I certainly will not be hung at the age of fifteen so you can forget that threat," Cala growled slowly catching her breath, the minister sat wide eyed and fearful.

"And this is no sanctuary Sir. Do not take me as a fool! This is a cage without bars, the only type of cage you could come up with that you all reckoned I wouldn’t see. And finally," Cala hissed as her throat roared gently with the words "At this rate, I promise you, the Black Nation will, win, this, war,"
Sir Grey leapt out of his seat "What exactly do you mean by that?" he snarled.

Cala smiled, giggling devilishly, so happy at his rage and maybe just a little high on painkillers "I think that the White Nation is on its knees and the structure of Mebenna itself is shaking under the treat of an even greater war. That’s right Oswald," Cala chuckled seeing the horror seep across his face "Everything is about to get much worse and the principles of this nation will crumble," Cala softened her voice and lowered it so Sir Grey found himself holding his breath in anticipation of her words.

"Every strategy you pull has been done thousands of times before; you’re playing right into Xandu’s hand. You know," Cala paused, toying with her prey "He hasn’t even deployed all of the Black army yet," Cala started to whisper, her eyes darting across his face as she saw the fear really start to sink in, he was captivated with terror "What are you going to do when he sends the rest of them over here hey? What are you going to do," Cala grinned "when the Rebels join in the fun?"

*

While Cala slept, confined to her hospital bed for another day a dark figure crept forward in the night. A boy, already across the boarder between White and Black and deep now, into the heart of the later nation. His heart pounded, his body alert and his head calm, the grey of his eyes glinting knowingly in the moon’s light. He made his way expertly through the bracken, the satisfying feeling of being so close to ones target at the forefront of his mind. Within the hour he would reach his destination, directly north lay the capital city of the Black Nation, Dimordia, and within its camp the Lord of the Nation himself. The Black King was waiting and as a pirate Dodger wasn’t going to test his patience.

*

Dimordia was a city in its own right by size but its nature was very different. Every dwelling was a tent; technically one humongous campsite. Completely mobile if need be and the Black Lord thought it suited his nation perfectly. The only building in the entire city that was made of brick was his room. The same room he last spoke to Cala in, a room with four walls and no roof.
Perfect simplicity. Xandu smiled to himself.

He tapped his clipped nails across the arm of his stone chair and studied the men lined up in front of him, his captains. Eight of them spread out in exact divisions; Cala’s place filled in and covered up causally. Not that she ever stood in line anyway, the majority of the time she had been the one giving the orders to the others while he just observed.

She had been clever Xandu reflected. She could have won this war herself if only she had the hunger for it. He sighed; wishing things had been different and looked scathingly at what she had left him with. The four men and four women were by no means inept but they lacked a certain air of finality about them.

Once an order was given, it was done but Xandu was always left thinking of ways he’d have to clean things up if they did go wrong. Back up plans. He had never needed those with Cala, the look in her eye told you she wouldn’t fail and you believed it or you were damned. Reassurance, which was what they lacked.

Until she turned. His mind snarled reminding himself sharply.

"Has he arrived?" Xandu muttered.

"Yes my lord, he comes now. He reached our cities boarder’s just minuets ago, he’s on foot,"

Xandu nodded and turned to the Chinese woman on the end of the line "What of the Rebels in Gergoth?"

She stepped forward, her hair scraped back and her cheekbones obtrusive. "They were after her horse my Lord. The NEX failed but picked up a Gergothian lady who was seen with the unidentified rider who mounted the horse,"

"And?" Xandu glared down, knowing the answer already.
The Chinese captain bowed her head, "It was her, my Lord. She left several distinct energy traces; we’d know her smell anywhere,"

Xandu growled, he knew it was custom not to say the name of a banished one but he’d damned if it wasn’t irksome.
"Can’t they keep her in their own God damned Nation! We handed her over on a silver platter and they can’t even keep her under control!" Xandu roared a crack split through the floor and jolted up through the right hand wall, crumbling the brickwork.
There was a crackle and out of the static noise a boy appeared. He took in Xandu and the cracked floor and wall and bowed his head silently. "My lord," He muttered.

"Leave us," Xandu commanded his captains, "Find me the Rebel base!"

The doors slammed shut behind them leaving only himself and the boy in the room. "Welcome Dodger," Xandu stood up and walked once around the boy, studying him once again.

He wore an all in one black thinly padded jumpsuit, with an across the shoulder strap containing several sized pouched and a single dark blue katana sword across his back. A dark emerald lodged in the pommel with fine black indistinguishable engravings covering the silver blade. His face was covered by a mask, a smaller more streamlined biker helmet perhaps. The visor was raised showing only his silver eyes.

Xandu was satisfied and sat back down. He need not know the identity of the pirate, the name Dodger was quite enough. As long as he did his job Xandu didn’t care about anything else. "Were you successful?"

"Aren’t I always," Dodger’s voice was manipulated by the mask and came out computerised. Xandu smiled inwardly, he liked Dodger’s cautions and his reliability. It had been five years now and he hadn’t been let down once.

Dodger pulled out a tattered brown suede bag and chucked it to Xandu. "It’s all there,"

Xandu opened the bag and tipped out its contents. Seven fist sized diamonds tumbled to the ground and Xandu chuckled, deliriously happy "Should I ask where you managed to get these?" He said picking one up and holding it to the firelight to inspect its clarity.

"We both know that’s best not said," Dodgers techno voice responded. Xandu flicked his fingers and all seven diamonds returned to the bag and the bag disappeared. Seconds later a new carrier reappeared, this time black suede, and a rolled up piece of parchment. Xandu waved his hand and the black sack landed in Dodgers open palm.

"Two thousand. It’s a good thing the White Nation still has the same currency right?"

Dodger opened the bag, satisfied with the money he answered Xandu "I wouldn’t worry about that. I buy from within the Black Nation not the White,"

Xandu rolled his eyes and grunted, then why does it take you a day to get here But said nothing. Pirates always were weary not to admit treachery even if it’s obvious. He turned to unroll the scroll.

"I have a new job for you, if you should take it,"

"How much?" Dodger got straight to the point.

"Five thousand,"

Dodger stayed quiet not sure whether to believe him, that was a lot of money for one job. Xandu sighed "It’s common knowledge we’ve sold ‘The princess of war’, I’ve got more than enough money to honour that payment,"

Dodger nodded, "Should she still be granted that title my Lord? After everything,"

"She’d have that title whether I tried to strip it from her or not. Lets not be naïve. Now will you take the job?"

Dodger cocked his head to one side considering "Details?"
Xandu handed him the parchment "I want you to find this and bring it to me. It’s called the Vita Ereptor, very valuable, very powerful,"

Dodger nodded slowly looking at the picture on the parchment in front of him "I’ve heard the stories,"

"But can you do the job?" Xandu’s eyes flashed hungrily, his mouth drying slightly.

Dodger considered it for a while, the moon light reflecting off his shiny helmet. Then suddenly he flicked his visor down and put the parchment in his pocket.

"It will take some time, but you shall have it if it can be found," he answered calmly.

Xandu nodded and Dodger disappeared abruptly without another word, the static of teleportation still hung in the air. Xandu smiled devilishly.

It won’t be long now. Soon everything will come to a head. He sat there laughing, driving out the still persistent nagging of Cala’s image in his head. Something would have to be done about her; she was supposed to be out of the way. This deal with the White Nation obviously wasn’t suitable.

Love the support everyone you guys are amazing. Apologies are in order though as I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to post such long chapters in such quick succession (no matter how much I want to). It may be a larger wait until the next chapter but I promise to write as fast as possible. Also I really want to answer questions about the story but I can't! Come on guys that would spoil it right? So wait and find out :) love.
Lullabye's x