Meliora - Extricate - 15

[lady_mab]

Zoné Altair

Jun and I stand in front of the open gate for the cemetery.

"I thought it was supposed to be locked," I say, for lack of anything better.

Jun stares at the gate and frowns, as if it being open personally offends her. "We are not the first ones here."

"Uh, well, Lysander said that Lio and Rhys got the same message. Do you think that they're in here already?"

She steps forward and crouches down next to the lock. "Unless they had the keys or knew how to pick locks, I do not think it was them."

I frown, more because I want to know how she was planning on getting us in. All she had said was a cryptic 'leave it to me', and nothing more since then. "Maybe ALICE was nice enough to come and unlock it for us."

The look she gives me means that she highly doubts that, but so long as there isn't anyone in there waiting for us with an axe to murder us or whatever, I don't see a problem.

"Let's get going!" I flick on the torch from Lysander and jump into the fray of plant life. "Man, he wasn't kidding when he said it was overgrown."

I don't even know if Jun follows until she catches my elbow to keep herself from falling. "You are going to have to slow down. I cannot keep up with you when it is this crowded."

"Hehe, crowded." I like the way she uses different words to substitute for ones she doesn't know. "Sorry, I'll slow down."

It's hard to make our way through the growth. I try my best to clear a path for her, but we still have to step over fallen branches and clamber over stones in the middle of the path.

Beyond the cacophony following my every move, the cemetery is eerily silent. There's no bugs or birds or animals. Just me stomping through the plant matter and the occasional curse from Jun and myself.

"Hey, tell me about those vampires you mentioned the other day." I hold a branch out of the way and wait for her to wriggle around the edge of it.

She casts me a quick glance as she passes. Her face and jacket are pale in the darkness, so at least I don't have to worry about losing her. "You want to hear about them now?"

"I don't scare easily. And I'm getting bored."

Jun snorts and takes a moment to consider the map on her phone. We don't really know where we are going, but Lysander did his best to send us an estimate of where the tombs in question were. "There are several different stories surrounding them. There is one that tells of Taoist monks who would use a spell to turn a recently dead body into a living corpse."

"Zombies?"

A small sound escapes her. "Yes, I suppose that is probably how the zombie myth originated in China. Jiangshi can be translated as 'hopping ghost'. Their bodies would be stiff and in order to transport them from one location to another, they would have to awkwardly hop.” She sticks out her arms in a zombie-ish fashion and hops a few steps forward. "The priest would follow along behind them, ringing a bell to alert everyone nearby not to come out of their house to see such a sight."

"Eugh."

"Or there is the story of how the bodies would be strung up between poles, and two men would carry them. People who saw this procession would think that the dead are hopping around."

"Okay, I regret asking. It's not creepy, it's just gross."

She grins, her teeth flashing dangerous and sharp in the light of my torch. "The hungry ghost is the worst of all. Buddhists believe that when we die, we all become ghosts. Most of our ghosts will linger, and that is why we honor our ancestors. But after awhile, they fade and die a second death and enter the cycle of rebirth. But there are some, those who are wronged or who were horrible in life that become hungry ghosts."

I consider this, then pat my stomach. "I'm a hungry human. How does that work?"

Jun shakes her head and keeps pace alongside me. "It is not like that. They are ghosts whose throats are filled with needles and they cannot swallow food, or their mouths are so decayed that they cannot eat. Or there are ghosts who do nothing but eat and eat but still they are not full. They try to steal the qi from the living. These are the vampires."

"That is the absolute worse."

"A glutton for things in life that they could never satisfy."

"Not being able to eat!" I imagine my throat being so small that I wouldn't be able to swallow anything and make a pained noise. "I'm getting hungry just thinking about it."

Jun laughs, the sound louder than either of expect and she slaps a hand over her mouth to try and stifle the sound. It's not enough to disguise the giggles. "I am trying to give you a lesson about stuffing yourself full and you can only think of food!"

"I can't help it, I always think of food!" Some might see it as a problem, but I consider it an endearing character trait. "I'm a growing boy. The energy has to come from somewhere."

She continues to giggle. "I suppose that is true."

We round a corner and I hear something in the distance. Or maybe not so distant, I think, as the sound comes again and it is definitely whispered voices.

I slam to a stop and Jun collides with me.

"Ouch! Zoné, tell me when you are going to stop so suddenly!"

But I don’t answer. I hear a yelp of a voice, a shh to stifle it, and I swing my torch in the direction of the sounds.

At first, everything is too bright to see.

The torchlight had been illuminating dark green plants and brown rotting logs so the pale flash of skin and bright red hair that it lands on is simply too bright.

But then my eyes focus and I can make out the shape of a young woman frozen mid-attempt at trying to pry a hand off of her mouth. Behind her, half hidden in her shadows, the owner of the hand. It takes longer for me to discern the lines of his face, but when I do, I think that I must be seeing a ghost instead of an actual person.

Everything is silence until a choked, "Oh my God," wrenches its way from my mouth.

The man's hand springs away from her mouth. "I'm not--"

"You dragged a girl all the way out here to murder her?!" Why am I not surprised?! I should be surprised. I honestly should be.

"What the fuck," he says, defensively, and I want to hurl my torch at him.

But then I see his brows furrow, his expression darken, and the brief moment of shock at my presence immediately disappears to the characteristic look of annoyance. Did he... not recognize me? I knew him in a heartbeat, had been searching for his face for two years, and he didn’t even recognize me right away.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, which is a pretty broad question.

I wave my hand, unable to find the right answer, unable to figure out which question I think he's asking. "Not attempting to strangle someone!"

The redhead steps forward, placing herself between me and the other man. "No one is killing anyone, Zoné."

My entire body shakes.

I almost lose my grip on the torch, but catch it just before it can slip from between my fingers. Her voice is bright, poshly accented, and not the slightest bit familiar.

But she knows me.

And she knows my brother.

"Who are you?" It's the safest question to ask. It's safer than focusing on the shadow of a man behind her who looks like he is trying to find the best escape route.

"You don't remember me?" Her hands go to her hips.

I mimic her pose because I've got nothing better to give her. "No, should I?"

Jun tugs on my sleeve and steps to stand beside me. Her presence is comforting, a balm to my agitated nerves. "Zoné, who is that?"

I sigh and point. "I don't know who she is. And that's--"

"Fletcher Oswin," the man interrupts, and for the second time in a handful of minutes, everything stops as it clicks into place. "This is Ayn Starling. I take it you two are participating in Meliora as well?" His voice is filled with rancour that I'm used to being directed at someone else.

I'm still struggling to catch up. "So it was you the whole time?"

His eyebrow cants up as he moves to stand beside the redhead. He's dressed in all black, and there is a small flat piercing on the corner of his lip, but otherwise he looks exactly the same. "Beg pardon?"

"You've been using that name this whole time and that's why I couldn't find you."

Ayn glances from me to him, then her glance turns to a glare. He ignores it.

Jun takes over as the spokesperson because I am choking on my words. "I am Jun. I take it you know Zoné already..." She watches me, curiously, carefully. "How do you know him?"

"I think he is confusing me with someone else," Catoir says, loud and pointed. When I force myself to meet his gaze, he's glaring daggers at me so I do the only thing I know: I glare them right back.

"I will punch your teeth in, Fletcher," I snarl. This whole time I was running on the assumption that 'Fletcher Oswin' was simply someone that knew my brother.

I didn't think to hope that he would actually be my brother.

Yet here he stands, daring me to say something as he cuts the distance between us with his anger. What right does he have to be angry?! He's the one that just disappeared without saying anything, that didn't even spare us a glance back.

I came all this way to find him, and, two years later, I do.

In the middle of a graveyard.

"It seems he hasn't taken much of a liking to me," Catoir says, casually.

Ayn rubs her forehead. "Since it seems we are headed in the same direction, why don't we travel together?"

"No," my brother snaps.

"That would be lovely," Jun concedes.

I toss my hands into the air. "Who are you?!"

Her wide eyes focus on me, but Jun steps forward to bridge the distance between our groups.

"I am glad that we ran into you. I was beginning to think that we were going the wrong way." She passes me a look over her shoulder that I can't interpret. I don't know how to react to this anymore. So I simply don't react. "I take it you were the ones to open the front gate?"

Ayn indicates her partner over her shoulder. "That was him."

I snort, though it goes ignored.

My brother and Ayn take the lead of our little group -- or more like he takes the lead and she immediately falls into place a step behind him. Their movements are cohesive, which is very strange to me. I've never seen him work so smoothly with another person. Not me, not our sister, certainly not our parents.

We walk in silence, which is fine by me. I'm still trying to reconcile the memory of my brother with the man before me. To figure out just where Catoir ends and Fletcher begins.

Is there a difference?

The words from the APM at the meeting suddenly make more sense. Are you related to anyone else participating in this game? That man knew, and I taunted him like that. Of course, if they didn't want to invite family members, they should have thought about that ahead of time and did some better research on the people participating.

I keep my torch focused on the backs of the two ahead of us. Catoir keeps glancing over his shoulder to glare at me, but I ignore it.

We keep walking. And walking. And I'm beginning to wonder if they know where they are going by the time that Catoir holds up a hand to stop us.

He nudges his glasses and stares at his phone. "The tomb should be around here--"

Jun's squeal cuts through the muffled silence of our party, the torch tumbling from her fingers

I whirl towards her, hand going to her elbow to hold her steady. "What is it?"

She's shivering, staring over Ayn's shoulder. "I thought I saw something."

I jump as Catoir snatches the torch from my hand and flicks it off. Jun and I yelp in protest, but he passes it off to Ayn. "Store that in the backpack," he says, and she does it without question.

My fingers clench into fists. My trembling feels so much more obvious now that I don't have something in a death grip. So I stoop down to pick up the torch that Jun dropped.

Before I can turn it on, Catoir catches my wrist and holds up a finger. "Only when I tell you to."

I want to argue with him for the sake of arguing. I want to turn it on so the bright white beam shoots into his eyes, and then I want to storm out of here, dragging him along behind me.

Instead, I grit my teeth and yank my arm free. But I leave it off.

We stand in a rough shape, eyes adjusting to the dark shadows and darker shapes of the overgrown cemetery.

From the corner of my eye, I see Catoir reach out and Ayn reacts to his movement. He points to gaping holes of black that must be the crypts. "There," he says, soft and muted.

Jun takes a step closer to my side, her breathing shallow and strained. I tighten my grip on the torch, stories of hopping and hungry ghosts blaring to life right when I really don't need them to.

A sound whispers towards us. It sounds like someone greedily rubbing their hands together. It sounds like a snake, tightening its coils.

It's hard to gauge the distance between us and the archways. Too far to make out any details in the dark, but not far enough that we miss the pale, skeletal hand that reaches out to grab at something.

The hand wavers, swipes, makes purchase on what must be a grate. Then the face appears, eyes wide and pale blue, swiveling through the clearing before it.

In the front, Catoir has a hand held out as if to stop us from moving closer. That is the last thing on my mind, because moving backwards seems like a much better idea. Jun clutches my arm, her jaw clenched so tightly I'm afraid she might break her teeth.

I shift my weight onto the balls of my feet, trying to decide what action to take. I want to go closer. I want to get as far away as possible.

Catoir makes a gesture, and my legs obey from years of practice. On silent feet, we move forward. Ironically, it feels like another childhood game now that my brother is with me.

Despite everything that led to this moment, despite how ready I was to wring his neck a moment before, we slip into old habits and it’s like nothing has changed.

I don't spare a glance behind me, because I need to keep my eye on the target. I hold the torch like a club, testing its weight and keeping my wrist loose.

The blind face jerks in our direction. As we get closer, I can hear a snuffling and buzzing as it presses its face against the bars.

From behind his glasses, Catoir's eyes jump from one point to the next, taking in as much as he can as we progress. It's silent except for that irritating noise. The snuffling makes sense, the buzzing does not.

I spot a patch of cement peeking out from beneath the growth and moss. Our shoes almost land on it when Jun's voice shatters the silence.

"Zoné!"

I spin around, still poised on the balls of my feet, and let the light of the torch flare to life. It illuminates the tangled mess of branches around us and a flash of pale white limbs disappearing into the darkness.

Ayn has the second torch in her hands as well, and behind me I hear Catoir swear in frustration. When I glance back, the thing behind the bars is gone.

My brother takes an angry breath and stalks back towards where the girls are waiting. I hesitate, staring into the brush where I saw the movement, but nothing appears. I follow after.

Jun's eyes are wide pools of darkness, face ashen, and she grabs my arm the moment I'm close enough. "There was a second one," she says. "It was behind you."

I exchange a look with Catoir. I hadn't felt anything creeping up behind me, but I don't know if that was because it feels like something has been watching us the entire time we've been here, or if I was too focused on the thing in the crypt. The expression on his face lets me know that he didn't sense anything either.

Ayn and I keep the torches out and lit. She leans in close to Catoir, whispering to him as he shakes his head.

"Let's get out of here," he finally says. My first reaction is to argue that he's not in charge, but I don't have the energy any more. More than anything, I want to just go home and curl up in bed for the rest of the weekend -- or maybe the rest of forever.

Too much has happened.

Once again, they lead the way with Jun and I trailing after. I take her hand in mine, and try to rub reassuring circles with my thumb as her trembling finally starts to lessen.

When we reach the cemetery gate, Catoir insists on locking it again. I help him yank the gate shut, and he reattaches the padlock and steps back to survey his handiwork.

Ayn's torch flickers, and she smacks the top of it. A soft sound trickles from her that sounds sort of like a laugh and she points. "We have to check in."

We all crowd around her and stare down at the QR code on the base of brick wall that holds the gate in place despite the passing of time.

"It's like the others," Jun murmurs. She crouches down to trace the tips of her fingers over the squares. "It wasn't here before." She speaks with a surety that I don't know I feel. We had been very focused on the gate when we first arrived.

Catoir takes out his phone and selects the Meliora app. When he holds it up before the code, a tiny voice chimes in with Welcome, Fletcher Oswin. "I don't think we can afford to worry about if it was here earlier or not," he says cryptically.

We all check in, and a small chorus of Welcomes fills the silence.

Catoir starts to walk away without saying anything, but I catch onto his elbow before he can get too far. He continues to glare daggers, but it's already lost its edge. He does that to everyone all the time. It's nothing new.

"I want to talk," I say, voice low enough that Jun and Ayn can't hear.

He stares at me, expression unreadable. Then he steps in to my space and I can feel the tension coming off his lean frame. We're still the same height. He wears a dark collar around his neck, but I know what it hides. "We have nothing to talk about."

"Catoir--"

His rejection of the name is almost palpable. "You would do well to forget this."

"I can't."

"Do yourself a favor: Try."

"Don't you dare--" I yank him back before he pull away. "You can't just suddenly show up and then expect me to drop this."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not the one that suddenly showed up. I've been here longer." That's a dumb and childish answer, but he doesn't look like he's in a mood to take it back. "I'm Fletcher now."

"And what about Catoir? Is that why you cover up the tattoo?"

Cold amber eyes flicker to the star on my cheekbone. He doesn't look away when he says, "Catoir is an identity that I shed years ago. Don't go thinking you can appeal to me using that name."

I release a swear on a huff of breath. "Who is she?" I jerk my head back in the direction of where Ayn tries to distract Jun with idle chatter.

He hesitates, weighing his response. "A friend."

"Of Catoir, or Fletcher?"

For a moment, the cold indifference that he's spent this entire time presenting to me slips. I recognize the face of my brother from when we were younger. Not softness, because that's never been there. But open curiosity, pondering a question that he desperately wants to know the answer to. "I don't know," he admits.

And then the moment is gone.

"Come on, Ayn," he says, like he's calling a dog to heel, and my shoulders stiffen as I watch him slip back into the person he's become.

She gives Jun a friendly parting and moves back to his side. When she passes me, she arches an eyebrow teasingly.

The two of them leave without a further parting, and I watch them go.

Behind me, Jun clears her throat and waits for me to turn towards her. "Are you okay?"

I think about how I've finally achieved my goal, that the reason I came to Eminence and signed up for Meliora appeared and left just as quickly in the same evening. "I have no idea."

She reaches for my hand again, and I let her.

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