3rd of Arrestre, Continued

I studied my feet. Flexed my toes inside my boots. The ache in my right ankle wasn't the worst I had ever felt, but it gave me a welcome distraction. I had already been in this room. I didn't want to see it again.

Behind me, a door opened and shut. Then High General Erkhaldt came slowly around to stand in front of my chair, looming over me. For a long moment he simply stood there, regarding me, before he asked in Low Altyran, "Miss Anderfield, do you know why you have been brought here?"

I didn't look up from my boots, giving a little shake of my head. I would play the meek little innocent Larra as long as possible. I had to last until tomorrow, at least, and I doubted they knew who I really was or they would have figured it out by now.

The High General sank into a crouch, entering my field of vision.

His words were gentle, almost caring. "Miss Anderfield, I want to give you the benefit of the doubt, I really do. I just don't understand what you were doing in the Agriculture Sector, and it's very important that you tell me."

I bit my lower lip and nodded. "I was taking a dispatch bag to the headquarters building," I said, quietly.

"We found it. But it was the wrong bag. What were you supposed to deliver?"

I let my eyes go round as I peeked at him. "No one told me what what was in the bag, sir, just that it was supposed to go to the Agricultural Sector. They were all having a lot to drink, though, so maybe I misunderstood."

He was watching me, a polite half-smile pasted on his lips, and he nodded as I spoke, his smile becoming almost kind in a patronizing sort of way. As if I were a silly child.

The smile didn't fool me. We were in the Headquarters basement. The chair I was sitting in was the same one NaVarre had been in when they brought me down to translate, and I was surrounded by an arsenal of devices and implements used for extracting information. This wasn't one of Hedwyn's questioning sessions. I was facing a man who thought of me as little more than livestock. Expendable. Disposable. He wasn't going to limit my pain or stop before he drew blood. It wasn't a matter of whether or not I would break. It was a matter of how long it would take before I did.

"And why did you run before the guards came?" He asked. He was outwardly calm, but it was only a veneer. His question was too pointed. This strangely polite 'courtship' phase of the interrogation wasn't going to last long.

My stomach tightened. "Did I?" I whispered, blinking, owlish. "I don't remember."

He leaned a little closer, studying me intently. His eyes were a deep, rich brown. They could have been kind eyes. The sort that sparkled with laughter and intelligence. Instead, they were empty, devoid of anything resembling a soul. A shiver raced down my spine, setting my hair on end.

His smile twitched a little, not adding even a hint of warmth to his features. "Then perhaps you need a little encouragement."

He stood, and I ground my teeth tight, steeling myself for what was coming as he undid the shackles binding me to the chair.

Then two very large guards dragged me to my feet and shoved me across the torture chamber to a metal door set in one of the many alcoves.

Beyond the door was a small, dark, concrete room. No windows, no lamps, nothing, just four walls and a drain. The guards pushed me all the way in, then began stripping me, tearing my blouse apart down the back, ripping my skirt down over my hips, all the while laughing at how skinny I was. They left me standing there in nothing but my thin chemise and underclothes.

Then came the hose.

I knew what was coming and tried to brace for it, but the jet of water still knocked me flying, tearing its frigid needle-claws over my skin, the force of it pinning my body against the wall of the cell as if I were nothing more than a rag doll.

For endless seconds there was no air, no way to draw a full breath, only freezing cold.

Then the hosing stopped.

I sagged where I stood, hands flat against the wall, lungs heaving, muscles trembling.

Dimly, it registered that the High General had stepped into the cell with me. There was a faint clink of metal. Then hard fingers closed around my shoulder, spinning me around.

He loomed over me, his voice deceptively even. "Where did you get this?" He lifted something shiny and silver in front of my face.

Sniffling, I dashed water from my eyes with the back of my wrist and tried to focus.

The familiar curve of Arramy's pendant gleamed in the light coming in from the torture chamber.

My hand flew to my chest, as if I would somehow find the hard lump of the pendant beneath the linen wrap even though it was in Erkhaldt's hand. The linen was gone too, and it only took a moment to spot it on the floor by the drain.

He was still waiting for an answer. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my scrawny, nearly bare middle and peered up at the general, blowing droplets off my upper lip, my teeth clattering together. One of Orrelian's first rules of evasion: deflect. "Why are you doing this, sir? I didn't do anything wrong —" I choked out, only to have General Erkhaldt lift his hand and slap me, hard, hard enough that the signet ring on his hand cut into my cheek and my head snapped back against the wall. Pain slashed through my skull, and then the water hit again, lancing across my torso before focusing on my shoulders. I let out a gurgling cough, twisting around to face the wall, instinctively trying to shield my face as frothing water surged over my head, boiling up my nose and down my throat.

On and on it went, the stinging cold sapping all the strength out of me, numbing my body until even the slicing grip of it became nothing but impossible pressure that stole whatever air I managed to find. Black stars began dancing before my eyes, and my vision narrowed until I simply closed my eyes and rested my forehead against the stone, letting the water do what it would, my mind flying far away. Arramy, coming up the aft steps on the Angpixen, his soaking wet shirt plastered to his shoulders, his gaze finding me as he took the wheel... Me, sitting in a chair in the ship's galley, lying to his face about a fictional aunt while thinking he was the most intimidating man I had ever met... Arramy shouting my name in a burning building, breaking through a door to hunt me down... That same man dancing me slowly beneath a sky full of golden lights—

Suddenly, there was nothing holding me up, and I hit the floor, my elbow and hip taking the brunt of my weight. I lay there in the corner of the wall and the floor, dragging at the air with burning, water-logged lungs, unable to even lift my head, my limbs slack and unresponsive. I wasn't sure why I was still alive, but for some reason my body hadn't given up. My stubborn heart wouldn't stop beating, and I wasn't unconscious yet, either. Escape wasn't going to be so easy.

Splashing footsteps, then the general's voice, low and harsh, "Who gave this to you?"

He was close. Too close. I knew without looking that he was dangling Arramy's pendant over my head.

"He's dead," I slurred, tongue thick. The irony was amusing. Of all the things to be questioned about, this was the one thing I didn't have to lie about, and it was his own fault.

I closed my eyes and dragged in another tortured breath.

Hard fingers knotted in my hair and yanked my head up. "Look at it again!" He shook me, trying to make me open my eyes. "Who gave it to you? Give me a name. I want a name."

I lifted one eyelid a crack and quirked a lopsided grin with my cold lips. "S'a ghost."

He grunted in disgust and flung my head at the floor again. "It's no good to me like this," he hissed in High Altyran. Then he walked out, barking orders at his guards, "Get it up. Get it out of here. Put it in cell four."

The guards came in, hauled me off the floor, and dragged my limp body out into the torture chamber. I was distantly aware of a narrow hallway, and then I was tossed into another small, bare room with a drain.

The only real difference was that this one was dry, and this time they dumped me inside, closed the door and locked it.

Approximately the 4th or 5th of Arrestre

Light burst across my face, flickering red against my eyelids.

Rough hands grabbed at me, dragging me bodily out of the cell, and the earth tilted crazily around me as the same two guards from earlier hauled me up off the floor by my arms and feet, and carried me to the room with the chair.

I winced as they sat me down hard on the seat and shoved my shoulders snug against the backrest. Next came the restraints, cinched tight around my wrists, upper arms, neck, forehead, and ankles. What was left of my shredded chemise didn't do anything to protect the fresh welts on my skin, and I hissed in an involuntary breath.

There was no way to tell how long I had been in that basement. It could have been a day. It could have been a week. Time had ceased to have any meaning in the dark of the cell. There had been no reference point, no food or water to mark any regular meal, and I had lost count of how many times the guards had come with their short whips and their heavy boots to kick me awake. Still, none of them had recognized me as Brenorra Warring, so I was clinging to Larra Anderfield with every scrap of strength I had left.

The general stepped into my field of vision, bringing a second chair with him. He set the chair in front of me and sat down, arranging himself elegantly, one leg crossed over the other, his body canting slightly to the side so he could lean an elbow on the armrest and clasp his hands over his knee. He took a deep breath. Let it out on a sigh that sounded almost like satisfaction. Smiled a little as he let his gaze wander down my body, taking in my split lip and swollen eye, the filthy chemise and torn short pants, the blood-crusted lash marks and bruises. "Where did you get the karrai-dan, Larra?" He asked in Low Altyran.

This again. I blinked. "I don't know what that is," I rasped. My throat felt like sandpaper.

The general's smile didn't change. "Let me rephrase. How do you know Captain Arramy?"

I froze, my exhausted brain unprepared for the sound of Arramy's name hanging so abruptly in the cold, dank air, rolling off the general's tongue in those cultured, polished tones I had come to hate. The awful wrongness of it was a visceral punch the gut, revulsion and horror so strong it made my empty stomach queasy. I started coughing, but it was too late. I had gone too still, my breathing too shallow. I could feel that empty gaze flicking over me, cataloguing my reaction.

General Erkhaldt sniffed slightly and held up one hand, examining the back of his fingers until I stopped hacking. Then he asked it again. "How do you know Captain Arramy?"

My mind raced, trying to compensate for my mistake. He knew the pendant belonged to Arramy and he was still asking about it, which meant it was important, somehow. That fact burrowed into the back of my mind, but I lacked the energy to figure out why. He wasn't asking about the map, though. That was good.

"He... was a friend of my husband's," I whispered. This is a really bad idea... You're letting him get too close... I pursed my lips, silently debating the warning voice in my head. But if he's fixated on making me talk about Arramy, he won't be asking about the map. And Arramy's dead. What harm will it do now? I just need to buy time. Just a little more time... I cleared my throat and kept going, "Kain knew very bad people." Not a lie.

"Interesting. Did Arramy give it to Kaen, then?" Erkhaldt asked calmly, still examining his fingers.

"Yes."

Erkhaldt lowered his hand and looked at me. "That doesn't explain why you have it."

My heart thundered painfully against my ribs. "The captain and Kaen were very close. They spent a lot of time together," I started. "I was hungry. I didn't know what it was, I just knew it was worth a few coins, so I took it. I don't know why I kept it."

That brought a dangerous little smile to the general's lips. Then the smile died. He nodded to someone behind me. One of the guards stepped up, pressed the muzzle of a medical infuser to my left shoulder, and pulled the trigger. With a sharp click, the needles bit through my skin, and a jolt of liquid fire erupted in the muscles of my arm, spreading rapidly to my fingers and across my chest. By the time it reached my legs it was an unpleasant buzz, but that was hardly the worst of it.

I ground my teeth tight over a curse and tried to brace myself for what was coming, panic seething in the pit of my stomach. The effects of the drug were almost immediate. The room began spinning, and my body grew lighter. I could feel it trying to fly away, and an unnatural, forced elation bubbled up in my chest. I knew that feeling. I had felt it before, thanks to Orrelian and Hedwyn. They had given me Nightwalker serum several times, until I could work through it on my own. I knew not to fight the sickening terror of falling that hit after the initial wave of euphoria. I wasn't plummeting into an abyss, nor was I really flying even though it felt like I was rocketing upward. I just had to breathe deep and even until my heartbeat stopped racing, and the room would slowly settle back into its foundations. The tricky part would be keeping my story straight even while the drugs erased my inhibitions and made every suggestion seem like a really good idea. Holding onto Larra Anderfield was going to be very difficult for about ten minutes. But maybe that would buy time, too.

The general watched me, his handsome face impassive. Then he leaned forward, the motion and the drugs making his his face distort like carnival glass.

"You're being a very bad girl, Larra," he said gently. "You're lying to me. Captain Arramy wouldn't have given his family karrai-dan to a mere friend. He wouldn't have given it to a man, either. He gave you the necklace, didn't he?"

I snorted out a giggle. "Your eyes are really big," I provided helpfully. "Does your face feel funny? My face feels funny..."

"I need you to concentrate. Can you do that for me, Larra?" The general asked. "Captain Arramy gave you a necklace. Try to remember. I want you to tell me about the time Captain Arramy gave you a necklace."

I licked my dry, cracked lips. Right on cue, the memory of Arramy standing in a hotel suite in Arritagne flitted through my head. The memory brought an oddly detached sense of loss. "I'm not s'posed to talk about that," I whispered, giggling again. I giggled some more when the general's thick eyebrows drew into a frown that pinched his face inward on itself.

"Why aren't you supposed to talk about that, Larra?"

"Because it's a secret. Do you want me to tell you a story?" Stories were good. Orrelian had said that.

The general smiled. "Yes, Larra, you can tell me."

I didn't like his smile, but I smiled back anyway, giggling again because he was being funny. "You keep calling me Larra!" I slurred, my tongue tripping over the guttural Low Altyran syllables.

"What else should I call you?" The general asked.

"That's a s-secret too, you s-s-silly man." Now the 's' was slithering through my teeth instead of behaving itself. I was having too much trouble with Low Altyran. Maybe Tettian would feel better. I knew some stories in Tettian, didn't I? "Let me see. This one s a lot of fun... There once was a crow named Oglarin, who lived in Old Killgary's bar-n. He cawed in the day and he cawed in the night, and he woke the old man up in the marn-n —"

The general stared at me, his eyes going round. He looked at the guard behind me, switching to High Altyran. "What is this? What is she saying?"

"You don't like that one?" I asked, switching to High Altyran too. "Oh, I know, I know! The one about the cat that ate his master's hairpiece!"

That got the general's attention for some reason. His eyebrows were practically merging together.

I took a big breath and belted out the first line, "There once was a cat who was very fat, with a collar all of gold —"

The general got to his feet, towering over me.

"With a collar all of go-o-old —"

"Tell me about Captain Arramy," the general said, raising his voice. Hs face was changing, warping and bulging until it resembled an insect, his eyes bleeding to black, his teeth elongating into fangs. His skin erupted with scales and warts and gnarly growths.

Across the room, thorns were starting to grow through the concrete walls, long and dagger sharp.

The hallucinations was turning ugly. Even with the drugs I knew it wouldn't be long now. I shut my eyes tight and fought the overwhelming dread that was beginning to well up in my chest. This part was the hardest, and it would only get worse. Cold sweat beaded on my skin, trickling down my back. .

"Tell me how you know Captain Rathe Arramy," the general snarled. His voice grated like a saw ripping through wood.

The need to hide scorched through me, making my muscles go rigid and my breath shorten. Words started slipping over my tongue before I could think about them. "Why does it matter? He's dead. You killed him." That made me laugh, but the sound that came bursting from my throat was too high and forced to be called laughter. "Now he really is a ghost!"

Again, that horrifying voice raked over my nerves, "Tell me who you are, Larra. What is your real name?"

I kept my eyes shut tight, but I could still hear the thorns in the walls creeping closer, rustling and creaking. They were going to surround my chair, and I wouldn't be able to get away. "You already know who I am," I choked out, distracted.

"What's your name?"

I pulled in a breath through my nose and released it through my teeth, then did it again, trying desperately to keep my heartbeat from exploding from my ribcage as the question sparked a sudden flare of panic. The answer to his question rose to my lips, my tongue obeying the drugs even while a warning clamored at the back of my mind. But my head was starting to ache, pain bouncing around inside my skull, ripping apart my ability to hold onto my own thoughts. I couldn't remember why, exactly, I shouldn't answer him. "I'm Larra Anderfield," I rasped, frowning. "Or was I Pendar Malastrian? No. Indaria... something or other," I added, switching mid-sentence to a hodgepodge of Panesian and Edonian. That would have made Orrelian shout at me for not staying in character, and a sob ratcheted from my throat. "I shouldn't know how to speak Panesian!" I said in Panesian. "Larra doesn't speak Panesian."

"Where are you from?" The general asked, leaning down to bring his face level with mine.

A sudden memory of a townhouse in Garding popped up, unbidden; a small kitchen garden inside the bounds of a fenced in yard, and Father waving to me from the back stoop. But that house wasn't there anymore. Neither was Father. I would never see that that house again. "It's all gone," I got out, switching to Edonian. That felt much easier. I raised my eyes to his. "But you already know that. You took it."

The thorns were still coming, but now there was water, too. Inky black water, boiling up from the floor, rising to my ankles, then to my knees, then my chest, swirling and relentless. There were huge fish swimming in it, circling my chair in flashes of silver fins and staring saucer eyes and needle teeth, and then I was underwater, bubbles rising from my nose and mouth. Fire danced along the surface above me, drifting farther and farther away.

It wasn't real. I knew that even as my body told me I was starting to drown. Dimly, I could hear someone asking me another question, and there was the distant sting of a slap across my face, but that was the price of using Noxvalkyr in interrogation. It eventually stole the victim's ability to feel anything, while sending them spiraling into horrifying nightmares. I wasn't aware of what happened to my body after that, my mind sliding away into a deep, dark labyrinth of fear and anguish.

~~~

There was light on the other side of my eyelids.

Slowly, I inhaled.

I was alive. Somehow.

Being alive hurt. My head throbbed, and the whole left side of my face was stiff.

After a long, weary moment, I opened my eyes a crack.

I was lying on the floor of the filthy cell I had been in before. Slowly, I pushed myself up out of the dirty straw, grimacing when pins and needles raced down my right arm.

How long had I been unconscious? Minutes? Hours?

Dully, I tried and failed to remember what had happened after the drugs took me. A myriad of dark, sickening possibilities darted about in that unknown, threatening to drag me into the darkness with them, and I took another deep breath. In. Out. Then I glanced down at myself. The light from the hallways was dim, but I could still make out the pale lines of my thin chemise and short pants. They were still on. I swallowed hard, and then ground my teeth together and made myself stop thinking beyond that fact.

I was about to shuffle over to the doorway to see if they had left me any water when a piercing shriek cut through the silence of the cell block, making me cower back into the corner of the cell.

Another shriek followed, then terrified sobbing mixed with words. A woman, begging, "Please stop! No more, no more, please, please, please —" the river of words ended in a gurgling cough, and then another, weaker, pathetic scream.

A man's voice rumbled something I couldn't hear.

Then the woman again, her voice gritty and rasping, "She spends a lot of time with the Red Sector medic. Karalli! Talk to Karalli — No! No! Please, I don't know anything else —"

A single shot rang out.

Then the male voice, ordering someone to "clean this mess up" in High Altyran.

I stared at the narrow window in the cell door for several moments. Then I simply wrapped my arms around my shins and huddled in the corner, dread pooling in my middle. I recognized that voice. I had heard it often enough, usually barking an order at someone.

The general had just executed Rushidi.

And now Karalli was probably next.

A hot, helpless tear snuck down my face and dripped off the end of my chin.

This was the price of stealing the map, and there would be no taking it back or stopping it.

I closed my eyes and leaned my aching head on my knees. 

AN: 

I know, I know! It's been, like, a month. This one was really hard to write. 

Anyway. Thoughts? 

Is this too dark? Not dark enough?  

Gargh! So much self doubt! 

Thank you as always for reading. I don't know how you've stuck with it this long. You're amazing. 

Anna