The Mariposa

Chapter 11

Azriel

My heart pounded as I yelled into the phone, but Maeve never replied.

What was happening?

As I panicked in my office, a knock came at my door.

"Who is it?" I asked, raking my hand through my hair.

"It's Kalon, sir."

I sighed. "Come in."

Slowly she creaked the door open.

"What did you need, Kalon?"

She looked vulnerable, rare for her, as she replied: "Where is Maeve? I'm just kind of worried about her."

I looked away, pondering whether I should just tell her.

"Azriel, please. I ask as a worried best friend."

"She went on a mission. A pretty dangerous one. But I'm not sure where she's at, she isn't replying to transmissions and she's not showing up on the radar."

Kalon let out a soft gasp, gripping the chair handles. "What are you going to do? Are you sending out a search team?"

I looked at her, slowly shaking my head. "You can look for her if you wish," I offered.

"Where would I even start?"

I shrugged. "She was last at the castle. But I doubt she's still there."

Determination filled her expression. "Still. I have to look. I'll bring her back."

I clenched my jaw as Kalon started to leave. "Check the lowest tier, Kalon." Call it a hunch.

She nodded as she left. A moment later, my phone rang. I answered:

"Hello, who am I speaking to?"

"It's your boss. I'm checking on the progress."

I cleared my throat, unsure of what to do. "I've... lost track of her."

"What do you mean?! You lost her?!"

"She's not replying to transmissions and she isn't on the radar."

"What about Elyas? He's still on the radar, right? She's likely with him."

"What makes you think that?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

"He's disappeared as well. Check the radar."

I did so, sighing heavily. "Nothing. He's not on the radar anymore either."

"Fantastic. Find them, Azriel! I don't care what it takes, but you better find them."

***

Elyas

She took me to a small store. It was quaint, but not super well kept. The shelves were stocked haphazardly, and the floor was littered with trash. I followed her to the small clothing section. She grabbed a couple men's t-shirts and sweatpants.

"Do you have cash on you?" she asked as we headed towards the registers.

"Yeah."

"Good. That way they can't track our purchases," she said in a lower tone.

I paid for the clothes and she asked for the bathroom key.

"Come with me," she said, leading me to the bathroom. She handed me the key, gesturing her head to the bathroom. "Change. You're being tracked. It's likely the bug is on your clothes."

I furrowed my brows, uncomfortable with the implications. I changed, then skimmed over my clothes. As I looked, I glanced down at my shoes. Slowly I slid them off, looking at the bottom. In the arch of the shoe was a tiny chip.