Wielder

Chapter 22 - Second Chance

The caravan didn't make camp. They trekked on through the night, with the guard post switching at dusk, and again at dawn. Alie slept fitfully. She was jarred awake by every large bump in the rugged roads, and every loud laugh from one of the soldiers as they told stories to each other for entertainment. Their voices were the only ones that filled the night.

   The Commander, hidden away in his carriage at the front of the procession, did not come out.

   They traveled through two different worlds over the course of four days. Darrel often complained about having no space to stretch. Michael stared out into the wilderness, lost in thoughts he never shared. And Alie contemplated all the things she would do the next time she had access to magic.

   On the morning of the fifth day, the caravan rumbled down a paved road. Rolling green hills stretched out on either side of them, dotted with vibrant flowers. They'd passed only two towns in this world, both of them small. The path had been vacant of other travelers through the entire night.

   A guard posted near Darrel's cage muttered something about breakfast. So far, they'd been fed little more than hard bread and stale dried meats, some of which still stuck to her teeth. Her stomach flipped at the thought of intaking more horrible food.

   The guard posted beside her cage door sucked in a breath. Alie's gaze flicked to the woman in curiosity.

   She'd gone rigid. Her shoulders pulled back; her chin lifted high. A sharp alertness returned to her tired brown eyes, setting Alie on edge.

   And then, the procession stopped.

   Michael woke groggily, rubbing at his eyes and muttering something under his breath. Darrel looked up from his origami fiddling, where he'd nearly completed another snarling dragon. His gaze narrowed, then snapped to the guard beside him. "Why've we stopped?"

   The guard told him to shut up.

   At the front of the procession, the door to the Commander's carriage opened with a soft click. Every soldier immediately tensed, their weapons clicking and scraping as they straightened into attention.

   Silence hushed over the caravan. Not a single person coughed, or shuffled their feet, or dared to make a single sound as the Commander's hand reached out and grasped the handle on the door.

   He looked as fresh as if he'd spent a weekend lounging on a beach in the tropics. The exhaustion was gone from his face. His ruby eyes were bright, though they squinted a little against the harsh morning sun. Even his uniform looked freshly pressed; the lines of his pants were crisp, and no wrinkles creased his jacket.

   He stepped foot on the ground, his boots crunching on the pavement as he turned to close the carriage door. He glanced at the front of the caravan, and nodded to someone posted there.

   Then, he turned to Alie.

   His gaze was penetrating. Even from so far away, she felt the intensity of his stare boring into her, directing her not to test him today. She clenched her fingers into tight fists as she fought the urge to shrink against the cage wall.

   Giving nothing away, the Commander flicked his gaze over the rest of the procession. To no one in particular, he said, "I'll take the Wielder from here. The rest of you will continue to the capitol as planned."

   The Phantom posted by the carriage stepped forward and pressed her fist to her heart, bowing at the waist. "Yes, Commander."

   No one questioned him as he marched purposefully toward Alie's cage. His gait was strong; sure. A jagged crystal sword made of shimmering ruby swung from his left hip... And the Ultimate swung from the other.