The other man, the not-Yusef, haunted our conversation, “Do not let him know.” I proceeded to explain how such an artifact could be created.

“Tell him to rest under the shade in case he can understand.”

The man complied, failing to see how those words should have been my first.

“This is the power I can give you.” His mouth salivated.

“Give me water. . . feed me meat, and I will reveal the one secret I held back from your king.

He brought me the strips of horse flesh that sweltered in the sun, flies screaming at the robbery of their bounty. Meat was all I ever needed-- all my lies, truths and manipulation were for this very purpose.

As I stood, with the bones of my hand piercing his gut, his blank expression faded without ever understanding. I had drawn for him epics of the old powers, described the artifacts and the Book of Light, but he failed to realize I would never dole them all out. Of course I would leave at least one for myself.

As his life blood spilled, I became me again. His flesh yet another bounty. My body knit anew.

-Whole, Still Hungry

###

I’m sure you regret the choice you made this day, Joshua, but you see now with some perspective don’t you? Your slavish self-indulgence to the ‘good’ ended up saving your life.

Joshua crawled out of the tent and thanked the Father Night for its merciful, meager, twenty inches of snow. They had hiked along the mountains parallel to the road for five days, deep enough into the massifs to not see a living soul, save for one helicopter which forced them to submerge below the snow drifts. But that was two days ago.

Now, Joshua snacked on a granola bar and looked down below as the snow-haze cleared. The tent was back in the mountains still standing; the plan was to hide away in the wilds for a night or two if today’s operation went anything less than perfect. He even made sure to pack extra food if they that managed to extract Doctor Batholomew. Lots and lots of granola.

“You see those black dots there?” Kael asked.

“No.”

“Right there.” Kael pointed to a lea that the road below their cliff cut through. “People. Maybe a gate behind them?”

“Sorry for not being able to feel where people are.”

“Not today. If there are Syches here, I’m going in cold for as long as possible.”

While a simple jump into the snow was tempting, it wouldn’t do to start the day off with a shattered leg. The brothers hiked a quarter mile west before finding a workable route to the base of the cliff. Closer now, the sharp edges of a building appeared through the flurry. Even closer and the top half of the letters of A.R.P.A. (‘aquatic’ something, that mystery may never be solved) could be puzzled out from the top of a road side sign—the boys up to their abdomens in snow themselves.

Kael grunted, looking at the closed gate. Supremely climbable. “Do you have a plan for when we get in? Syches or no Syches, no one is going to let us roam about.”

“Oh I have a plan. When do I not have a plan?” Joshua laced his hands together and brought his index fingers up to his lips. “A wonderful, festive plan.”

Joshua Rasgard partook in performance art. Not the pretentious, showy kind. Merely the slow, self-absorbed, self-entertaining kind. He whistled a merry little holiday tune and pulled his hand-knitted scarf tight. His work came to a stop– as did the snowball he rolled– struggling to lift and place it on top of the snowman. Little by little, his masterpiece came together, and little by little, he grew increasingly frustrated.

He had jumped the gate easily enough and now had only to prepare the way for Kael. Nothing lay beyond the gate except for an expansive parking lot parking lot with three trucks. As well as loading bays on the east side. In other words: a shooting gallery.

So Joshua cursed under his breath. He expected to be caught. He wanted to be caught. If his brother really was correct about this being a death trap on the edge of civilization, then a gaggle of black-cloaked Syches should have been dragging Joshua towards a meat hook for some advanced interrogation already.

“Perhaps I should have picked a warmer medium,” Joshua muttered, teeth chattering. Shrugging, he peered around the concrete square for something resembling arms.

As Joshua walked around to the trucks, the doors slowly flung open against the snow and two newcomers garbed head to toe in black robes, hastily throwing on their gloves and tossing up their hoods, bound into the lot. Joshua snapped two windshield wipers off and proceeded back to his snow person. He noticed the two figures stalking him with a befuddled wonder, but pretended not to see.

Joshua got to the snowman and shoved one windshield wiper in. The Syches stepped forward. A second arm in, a perfect snowman if you ignored the slapdash face made from dirt.

Hands like iron vices clamped down on Joshua’s shoulders.

Just try and pull me away from the snowman. Oh, they totally can. Crap.

The man—it had to be a man with that grip—didn’t seem to be paying Joshua much head. Instead, Joshua could just make out from his peripherals the man scanning the surroundings. Wild suspicion was going to factor in, no excuses to be way out here on his own.

And that was the rub, getting Kael past someone not only looking for the rub, but someone with a built-in human detector. Or maybe the rub was not dying.

What’s a rub anyway? Joshua thought.

“Who are you?” the other guard bellowed, wrenching Joshua’s arm at an excruciating angle.

They couldn’t see it, but under his scarf, a thin smile crossed his lips. In a mock accent Joshua began zee answer, “I am how you zay, un arteest. Ow, ow. Zis is, eh, my art ere,” the boy motioned extravagantly to the snowman. “This znow in zis very plaza. Ohhhhh! It is just vat I need for–”

His blathering never found its conclusion as a burly fist plunged into his gut. He uttered one final guttural gasp and hung loosely between them like a roasted pig on a spit.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

###

“Why is there a random Syche in the mountain?” one guard asked the other as the steel toe of his boot crunched into Joshua’s thigh, knocking him about like a foosball man.

“Just go put him in with the others,” the first man shrugged, letting go and causing Joshua to puddle into the snow. “New boss can decide when he arrives.”

Kael could discern the conversation with effort. The snowman muffled the noises a bit, but it was easier than he would have guessed. Couldn’t see though. He didn’t feel like he needed that this second, he could extrapolate where the men were and what they were doing since it was two feet away.

The second man struggled with Joshua’s lanky body: additionally having to pull it out of the snow and trudge all the way to the doors. “I'll send for backup.” He shot over his shoulder before disappearing into the dusky grayness of the building’s interior. The one who remained put his hands under his armpits and looked around; he was no Combustion Syche and didn't appreciate the cold, let alone the headscratcher that was this boy: Some smart alec brat in the mountains? Who was a Syche no less? That’s what he had to be thinking, Kael knew.

Kael could feel the Syche flare his powers, but the man was still in Kaels’ Sychakenetic bubble and those waves of energy weren’t going anywhere. Kael had to be careful originally. He needed to make a weak show of power so they wouldn’t kill Joshua on the spot.

But Joshua was safe for now, however ironic that was being in the belly of the beast.

Kael struck forward; the man was realizing Joshua wasn’t the Syche this very instant. In a maelstrom of ice and snow, the giant bottom ball of the snowman burst open and Kael javelined out. He took the black cloaked assassin by the neck and together they felt into the snow.

###

Inside of the aquatic research facility (although Joshua was becoming skeptical if that’s what this place really was), his captor grunted through brightly lit, empty hallways taking turns seemingly at random followed by descending some crudely hewn stairs in black stone. Opening the next door, the man stepped into a narrow corridor where a faint, electric hum hung in the air. In a chair immediately to his left sat a man in his mid-twenties. He wore similar black clothing, but nothing covered his face and stringy blond hair. The caves weren’t warm, but they were habitable.

“Open one,” Joshua's captor ordered sharply.

The prison guard nodded, flipped a switch, and the humming ceased. The man dragged Joshua through the narrow corridor. The screeching rend of twisting metal revealed an open cell which Joshua was promptly tossed into.

As the groan of metal sounded alongside receding footsteps, Joshua spat dirt and straw, adjusted the arm he had landed on. Daring, he squinted one eye open: alone in a claustrophobic earthen cell. He rolled on his back and groaned, both hands caressing his abdomen. When Joshua came up with this plan to get inside, Kael had pointed out that he would end up being knocked over the head (“Not that a serious brain injury would change you much.”). Joshua supposed this was better, but in the moment that offered no consolation.

Coughing and groaning, Joshua sat up with clenched fists and used his feet to scoot himself against the nearest wall. The light was dim but he was already adjusting.

Across the aisle, in two separate cells, sat two other people: one a dark-haired, tanned skinned girl resting against the hard stone, the other an older gentleman, huddled in the corner wrapped in a tattered blanket. Joshua couldn’t take his eyes off the girl, and not for the usual reasons. The black robes of the Dark Element covered her. Ripped, blood stained and dirty.

Why?

The faint and high-pitched buzzing vibrated through the cell bars once more. Somewhere down the hall, Joshua heard echoing footsteps that he took to be his captor leaving.

“Is he gone?” Joshua signed. The girl and the man nodded. Joshua rubbed his stomach, massaging the pain away. “Name’s Joshua Rasgard, pleased to meet you. I’ll be your hero today.”

The man in the corner hugged his blanket tighter and looked away; however, the girl gazed at him.

He could have gotten lost in those hazel eyes if they hadn’t been-- Studying him? Challenging him? Whatever it was, her face got a bit twitchy and she turned away. “I’m Gianna, what did they get you for?” she said looking at the wall, using her voice and almost giggling.

Joshua didn’t know what to make of the girl outside of her being completely cracked.

“They didn’t get me. I snuck in here,” Joshua replied aloud. He had been trying to be stealthy but the girl had ruined it.

The old man grunted disapprovingly in his corner.

“It still counts if they helped me sneak in here. I got in, and that’s what counts.” Joshua waited for a response, but the man had given up any pretense of conversation. “Fine. You in the rags. Doctor Bartholomew, correct?”

“Is this some kind of new torture?” Bartholomew said with his hands, the fingers signing in lethargic jerks.

“No…?” Joshua dawdled. “No,” he said more forcefully. “Here’s the deal, we break you out of here; you answer all of our questions. And I mean all of them.”

“But who are you, and how did you even find me?”

At least this guy understands the value of silence.

Joshua sighed as his foot tapped and fingers fidgeted. “It would be horribly redundant to explain. Let's just get you out of here and you can go see your daughter.”

“My daughter is here?”

Emilie was waiting in the tent, true enough, but that shouldn’t have been the Doctor’s assumption. Joshua would have liked to believe they lived in a world where most people were smarter than his brother.

Joshua shook his head and paused, turning back to the outside of the cell as a new pair of footsteps rang down the staircase. “And here we go.”

The door down the hall squeaked open and a newcomer, dressed no different than any other black-cloaked assassin, slunk into the room, their hood drooping and face obscured more than normal. In three steps, the figure crashed into the prison guard, knocking him down and sending him off on a tirade.

“I’m so sorry. I'm so sorry,” the new voice said timidly. “I’ll be even more careful next time.”

Joshua shimmied as close to the humming bars as he dared. The new person shuffled by the cells with a shine between his index and middle finger. With the flick of the wrist, a small iron key sailed through the vibrating bars and into the cell. And then he was gone.

Picking up the key at his feet, Joshua turned to his captive audience with a grin. “And this–" he paused for dramatic effect– "is how we get out." All spoken silently.

“And just what does that go to?” Gianna, completely indignant to the concept of silence, asked with her fingers halfway in her mouth.

Joshua double took before carrying on. “The cell door, obviously.”

“What door?” Bartholomew asked. He was being loud now too.

Joshua stared at the solid bars transfixed, looking up and down for a keyhole, a padlock, anything; it was solid metal from bottom to top. His smile transformed into a look of pure bewilderment in an instant. “Then what does this key go to!?” Joshua yelled.

The man in the chair stirred. Joshua screamed down the other way: “Kael! Get back here! The key does not open the cell! I repeat! I cannot open the cell! Code red!”

Kael had stopped, just about to turn the corner. Joshua could swear he heard his brother’s teeth grate as he slowly turned to face the guard that sprinted down the hall, swooshing past Joshua.

“Are you kidding me, Josh?” Kael shouted back as he sprinted around the corner. The guard rounded the bend five steps behind.

A bright light and loud crack split the air; a body flew back into view and crashed into the wall. The jailer crumpled on the spot, embers glowing on his chest, steam rising off his skin. Kael walked over to the downed guard and lightly and politely stamped on his chest. He sauntered up to the bars and glared at Joshua.

“You idiot, there is no room to dodge in this corridor. He could have killed me.”

“Well you had to go and give me a key that doesn’t work,” Joshua shot back. “Learn to take responsibility for your own mistakes.”

“You didn’t realize it either until I told you,” the girl behind Joshua noted sadly. Her speech always off with what she was saying.

“You can shut it!” Joshua spat back.

“Whatever you say, hero,” the girl answered. She sounded genuine.

Joshua glared at her for a second unable to decide whether she was mocking him or genuinely nuts. The tone and inflection of her words, her general mood? They were on a roulette wheel. Almost replying to find out if it was a joke at his expense, he instead turned back to Kael. “It’s electrified so you can go ahead and shut that lever off over there.”

The electrification was smart. Other sources of energy, if relatively high enough, interfered with Sychakenetic powers. A Metal Syche couldn't bend the bars with the voltage coursing through the beams, a Combustion Syche couldn't blow it up: it was the same principle that stopped Syches from affecting humans directly, their life force interfering with the powers.

Without speaking, Kael looked back to Joshua and nodded. Joshua’s eyebrow raised in turn. Kael’s head bobbled from side to side for a second before holding up five fingers which prompted Joshua to nod once again. This wasn’t a hand dance or any real type of communication; they just knew. The plan was once again in motion. Kael walked to where the guard previously sat and threw the lever, and the dreadful humming ceased.

Kael strode by and knocked a knuckle on each bar for all three cells. A little extra showmanship but it did its job. The metal sizzled and melted away into a magma slurry on the floor.