A/N: Here it is. The end of a journey, and the beginning of a new one. Thank you all for reading and sticking with me thus far, through all my many delays and rants. Work is well underway on book 2, but please note that there will be some changes with how it's posted. You can find the relevant details on my profile/in the comments.
I hope you enjoy the end.
*****
Chapter 32- Masks
2
nd
December, 2017
7:29 a.m.
Somewhere in the Middle of the Ocean
It turned out that "Dave" was a boat captained by an ornery Clownfish-Bonded Wielder, who shared his name with his boat. Though he didn't actually
warm up
to us as such, he did seem a lot less hostile as soon as he saw that Fiona was with us.
I'd later learn that the two of them had grown up together at the Roman Academy, and when Fiona had been stationed at the I.G.A.D.W.T.F., Dave had agreed to be her secret exfil plan, for when the worst happened. While I personally doubted the wisdom in taking a dingy trawler like his out to open waters and sailing it all the way to Ostia, in Italy, Fiona seemed to trust him, so I resolved myself to doing the same.
I definitely couldn't deny that travelling that way, we'd be less likely to be spotted by Vince or any of his allies. My concerns about how long it might actually take us were also assuaged as soon as we were far enough away from shore-- it turns out that clownfish can be rather swift swimmers! With the help of his Companion, Dave actually predicted that we'd drop anchor off the Italian coast sometime on the 3
rd
of December.
As small as it was, the nondescript trawler did have a lower deck which doubled as rather cramped living quarters, the single bed of which was currently occupied by Ryan, as he took his sleep-shift. After grabbing a bit of stale bread and some truly horrendous coffee to dip it into, I wandered around the deck, nodding to Dave, before spotting Fiona sitting by the bow, her legs threaded through the bars to dangle off the boat.
"Are you doing alright?" I asked her quietly, taking a seat next to her.
The breakneck pace Dave's Companion could somehow continuously keep up created an ever-present salty mist in that vicinity; it actually added a welcome bit of flavor to the bits of bread I was trying to force down my throat, and I'd long since gotten used to the wet and the cold. None of us were Wielding, in an attempt to keep a low profile, and to not mess with the fragile electronics of the boat.
"I just cannot wrap my mind around it," Fiona stated, stoically. "I lived and fought with them for
years
. I thought we shared a bond thicker than blood! How did I never realize that they had been turned?"
"Because it wasn't them," I responded, deciding to let her in on something that had been slowly taking shape in my mind over the last day.
"Explain," she stated, finally looking at me, a shocking mix of rage and desperation on her face.
I could only imagine how distraught she must have been. As someone who'd only recently joined her command, I knew that Fiona took it upon herself to mentor-- no,
nurture
-- each and every single Wielder under her, all to ensure that they could be the best versions of themselves. It was that exact sentiment, that love and devotion to her squad, that I found so hard to betray. Yes, I was still worried about Rayka, but when it came down to it, I couldn't betray Fiona. I just had to hope and believe that Rayka would be fine until I could get to her. I refused to even
think
about the alternative.
"I've been turning everything over in my head, time and time again," I said, turning to look out at the horizon, unable to meet her gaze. "I know that you have questions about how I was finally able to beat the others and survive-- I do too, and unfortunately, I have no answers for you there.
"You need to know about my Aura Vision to understand what I
can
tell you.
"I have the ability to see magic, to actually visualize it. It's not consistent enough for me to use it reliably enough as a skill, yet, but I can sometimes even see the strands of individual elements coming together to form a spell."
"There are legends amongst the Romans of a Wielder who could do what you describe. I never thought they could be real."
"They are-- or well, the Gift is, at least. And I'd like for us to circle back to those legends you've mentioned, later.
"But like I was saying, I can see the elements that form a spell, and as they died, a passive spell lifted off all of them."
"Mind control? Could they have been taken over, their mental defenses shattered?"
"I don't think so. I think it was a cloaking spell of sorts."
"Cloaking?"
"Yeah, something low-powered enough that the Power it took wouldn't interfere with any electronics. I think the members of your squad had been replaced by Darks, perhaps a long time ago."
"Do you realize what you are implying?" she asked, climbing to her feet and fixing me with a piercing glare. "A spell like that would somehow have to take even less Power than our Communicators, and remain enabled even as they slept.
"Even if we leave that aside, you are implying that there were Darks within our ranks. Working with higher officers. Are you saying Vince knew? Is his superior, Byrav, in on it, too? I know they can be assholes, but this is the sort of accusation that gets you killed, Chris."
"I know it sounds impossible," I murmured, finally turning my head to look up at her. "I know that it sounds like a huge conspiracy! But, it's all I have for you right now. Believe me, I
want
to be able to answer all your questions; I just can't!
"We still have no real idea of the sorts of resources or spells the Darks have access to. What if I
am
right? Isn't this something the other commanders of the Academies need to know? What if there are more of them sitting within the actual Academies right now?!"
I hadn't realized that I'd screamed the last part till I noticed Ryan and Dave standing by the mast, staring at us.
"I'm not saying that you are wrong, Chris," Fiona sighed, looking away. "You may actually be on to something. These accusations are heavy, though, and we simply cannot bring them before
anybody
without irrefutable proof. As of right now, we actually do not even know what sort of welcome to expect in Rome. The
last
thing we can do is walk in, slinging accusations about spies and moles. Do you understand?"
I just nodded, turning to stare back at the horizon.
"I actually do hope you are right, Chris," Fiona said, patting my shoulder. "As lethal as the other implications of your theory could turn out to be, at least it would mean that the people I thought were my family, did not actually try to kill me."
She turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I knew that we were all exhausted, our emotions raw and hearts heavy with betrayal, and coming from someone in that state, everything I'd just said sounded like a madman grasping at straws.
Something in my gut told me that I was on to something, though; like I was picking at a thread that would undo the whole tapestry, revealing a much darker picture hiding away underneath. I just had no way to prove it.
*****
Dave's estimate turned out to be rather precise, a fact that I found out as Ryan shook me out of the shallow nap I'd finally managed to fall under. It was still dark out, but I could make out the faint outline of some sort of landmass by the feeble light of the stars.
"We're in the Ligurian sea," Fiona clued us in, waving us over to where she was standing with Dave, just off the starboard side of the prow, "about twenty kilometers out from Portofino. A couple of hours' rowing should have us where we need to be."
"Rowing?" Ryan asked.
"Rowing," Fiona affirmed, holding up an inflatable raft.
"If you're going, now's the time," Dave chipped in. "The next ferry will be along shortly, and I want to be well out of range when they do."
"You heard the man," Fiona said, ripping the tag and tossing the raft into the water as it unfurled. "Let's move out."
Taking our turns to shake his hand and express our gratitude, Ryan and I jumped into the water and swam out to the raft, climbing on and assembling the paddles as Fiona finished saying her goodbyes. Once she had joined us, we started making our way towards the coast. Fiona and I did most of the rowing, our Wielder training having us in better physical shape overall, when compared to other people. Ryan filled in whenever either of us needed a break, and a little over what felt like three hours later, we could see where we were headed.
"Those are cliffs," I quipped, as another surge coated the vertical rocks ahead of us in a glistening sheen.
"Thank you, Chris," Fiona responded, not bothering to hide her sarcasm. "Just keep rowing straight."
Sharing a shrug with Ryan, I did just that, though I'd be lying if I said that the sight of those imposing behemoths drawing closer didn't cause my pace to be just a tad slower. I was waiting for Fiona to clue us into her plan, but even as we grew closer to the rocks, she stayed silent.
"Someone need a hand?" The last voice I ever thought I'd hear out there called, as a Seahorse with three people astride it rose from the depths, right in front of us.
"Vindex!" Fiona called, beaming widely, the relief plain in her voice. "I didn't know if Dave's message had reached you."
"It did," Mathias responded, pulling off his helm to reveal that he was the second rider astride the Seahorse, as seven more Seahorses rose up to form a ring around us. "And, I brought friends. In fact, Chris, there's someone here who you're probably even happier to see!"
Mathias pointed behind him, and the third rider pulled off her helm, leaving me face-to-face with Rayka.
"You're here," I breathed, the sudden relief after days of stress and worry robbing me of the little energy I had left. "You're safe."
"There will be time for reunions in a bit," Mathias interjected, nodding to the others as they tightened the ring around us. "For now, let's get you somewhere dry and warm. The two of you can Wield now, without worrying, but I think our friend here might soon be going into hypothermic shock."
