Wayward Son

Chapter 7

"Master..."

He leant down in one knee, possibly feeling the weight of her presence upon his shoulders, dreading the ruthless punishment that was sure to soon be unleashed upon him.

She glared at him out of the corner of her deep, soulless eyes.

"Let me guess," she said, her voice dangerously quiet, "you failed to capture the alchemist?"

"I was cast out by the Storm Hawks," he reported, not daring to cast his incandescent violet gaze upon her face. "I can confirm that the one with the power you seek is currently among them. He is not receiving any guard and could easily be taken."

"And yet," said the Master, "you return to me, presenting this information while simultaneously declaring your failure."

She turned to face him, her hands glowing with brilliant red energy which she used to lift him clear of the ground and throw his body through the doors like the useless ragdoll she now knew him to be.

"Pathetic," she muttered, and returned to her work.

"Master," said the third person in the room, "if I may speak?"

"Go ahead," she said without looking up.

"With all due respect, Master Cyclonis," he said, walking forward out of the shadows, the dim light glinting in his scarlet eyes, "allow me to apprehend this 'alchemist' you seek. I will annihilate the Storm Hawks and have him bowing to you before this day is out!"

"Patience, Dark Ace," said Master Cyclonis, unfurling a scroll on her desk. "The mere confirmation that there is indeed a person in Atmos who possesses this knowledge is all that I need for the moment. And once he realises that I have what he desires..."

She traced her fingers over an image of an elderly bearded man in a long white robe, reaching up towards a smooth, glowing, shimmering red crystal, an expression of awestruck wonder upon his wrinkled face.

"...it will only be a matter of time before he walks right into my grasp."

O-o-O

The Condor pulled up under the cliff and the grappling hooks latched onto the rocky underside of the terra, just as the surrounding clouds began to unleash their cold, wet weaponry upon anything that dared to be outside.

"With the weather like this, there's no way we'll be able to make any real progress," Piper explained to Edward, who was standing in front of the windscreen glaring out at the thick grey clouds. "We're gonna have to wait here until the rain stops."

"So long as we don't get washed into an abyss, I'm fine with it," said Edward.

Stork started stroking his chin in thought. He was, in all likelihood, trying to calculate the probability of them being washed into an abyss at some point in the near future.

"Let's hope that doesn't happen, okay?" said Aerrow and Stork lowered his hand, disappointed.

"Can you guys all be quiet?" asked Finn. "You'll ruin my focus!"

He carefully stood another two of the jenga blocks on their narrowest sides and rested another across them like a bridge.

"By the time this is done, it is gonna look so sweet!" he squeaked.

Radarr jumped onto the table and watched as the bizarrely excited marksman added a second arch to his little construction.

"What is he doing?" Edward whispered hoarsely.

"He gets like this when he's particularly bored," Stork explained.

"Sometimes this'll happen when he's cleaning floors," said Piper as Finn tried to shoo Radarr away. "He ties sponges to his feet and skates around on them like he's on ice. Sometimes he'll bat the soap around with his mop."