Journey to Psitharis

Chapter 33

Thirty-three

I made sure the house was locked tight before going into my mother's room and rummaging through her bedside drawer. I knew she had my old clonazepam somewhere in that drawer. Sure enough, almost as soon as I reached into the little compartment I wrapped my fingers around the familiar bottle. Or the third in a line of familiar bottles, because when I inspected the bottle in my hand I found the date on the bottle to be only two weeks old, and the numbers "3 of 4" where the number of prescriptions filled was noted. The crazy bitch was taking my pills! I was just glad she had left them behind while she went on her pleasure trip with her latest conquest. I took two pills out of the bottle and swallowed them. Then I put the bottle back where I got it and went to my room to wait.

It didn't take long to fall asleep. I have a feeling emotional exhaustion had more to do with my quick trip to nothingness than the pills I took. Nevertheless I found myself waking up in the photo booth in the wee hours of morning. And the moment I stepped out I found one of the former junkyard spirits walking the grounds, standing guard and watching for Calperal's men. He pointed me in the direction of the group. When I found them, they were gathering metal pipes and anything else that could closely resemble a weapon. By the looks of the pile of makeshift weapons, we were going to mount one hell of a rescue operation.

I stared at one man who was older than most in attendance. He looked so feeble, and suddenly I felt the true danger of what I was asking of these people, and guilt filled every pore of my body. "Sir, you really shouldn't be here. You just got back to this reality. I don't want to see you put yourself in peril for this." I stared around at this crowd, realizing I had asked them to do what I had been so loath to allow the Counsel to do. "You know, that goes for everyone here." I said, raising my voice. "I don't expect you to go into that courtyard with me. I want to see you heading for home, back to the families who haven't seen you in so long. I will go on alone. I appreciate all you've done, but this is still my fight, not yours."

The crowd stared at me collectively in silence for a moment. The older man finally spoke up for everyone else. "Princess, you don't seem to understand. Every person who now toils behind those walls, in those bowels below the park, they are imprisoned in the bonds of slavery. Those are our families, those are our friends. They were taken from us, ripped from our homes. As much as we love you for restoring us, we also love them. We would gladly die for them. You have nothing to express remorse over. We go into this battle knowing exactly what we're facing. This is our fight. And if we die, we die knowing a brighter tomorrow is coming. But that won't happen if we run like weaklings from the battle that must happen. This is where we make our stand. This is where, perhaps, those inside become brave enough to stand up as well. We wandered in this wilderness for many years, hoping for a second chance to change our futures, make them far different than they had become. You gave us our second chance. And we will stand up for you, stand up for them."

The crowd nodded in unison as I stood there, overwhelmed. This wasn't about me, it was about Psitharis. This world a frightened little girl had created for solace had become an entity in itself. And these people were willing to fight and die for it. And the little girl had to take her place among them, not outside of them. She wasn't alone anymore. It was time for her to realize that. It was the only motivation I needed. "Well, all right then. If everyone's agreed," I looked around as all the people nodded again, "let's get started."

The first part of the morning saw me finding my creative ability renewed. I spent the early morning turning worthless pipes and pieces of junk into full-fledged weapons. I turned them into the cattle prods that had once been used on me, only with a longer reach so they would be the first to strike. I kept the weapons non-lethal, to spare one of my army from taking the life of one of the indentured soldiers they sought to protect. Still, we had to drive our point home, and until we could establish ourselves as a force to be reckoned with we needed to be protected. I went over my plans for Zade and Lyra with Zade's mother; we rehearsed what they were going to do and I searched the grounds for the equipment I needed for them. I found it in an old costume trunk. Even though it was aged and several spots were molding I was still able to imagine it into something new. The sounds of our preparation were drowned out by the preparations taking place on the other side of the wall. For once I was thankful for Calperal's pompous sense of sensationalism.