Chapter 34 Ravel
RAVEL
"Hunt the visible threat, and you may win the battle. Fail to root out the insidious one, and you've already lost the war."
—General Soren Bardaky, address to the Joint Chiefs
The detention level smelled of damp stone and desperation.
I'd spent more hours down here in the past two days than I had in the previous decade.
The cells were designed for temporary holding of cadets who'd gotten into fights, and the occasional riders who'd disobeyed orders, or acted with disrespect toward their superiors, or had too much to drink and caused a disturbance.
They weren't meant for interrogating traitors.
We were making do.
The man across the table from me looked to be in his mid-thirties, with close-cropped dark hair and the calloused hands of someone who'd spent years doing manual labor.
I'd skimmed his file, but I hadn't read it thoroughly.
I would do that later, after I was done extracting every piece of information out of him.
Noven Sarhan was a maintenance worker specializing in ventilation systems who had never caused any trouble and even got nominated for employee of the month not too long ago.
He'd been named by one of the original three attackers within hours of their capture.
When the guards had come for him, he'd been sitting on the couch in the living room of the flat he was sharing with four other workers, waiting, as if he'd known it was only a matter of time before he was arrested, or perhaps he'd just been too high on the drug to offer resistance.
They'd found over a pound of the stuff hidden under his wardrobe.
He'd glued the bag to its underside, which was quite clever, and required lifting the heavy piece of furniture, which wasn't easy.
If the guy hadn't been casting furtive looks toward the bottom of the wardrobe as the guards searched the flat, it wouldn't have occurred to them to look there.
"How old are you?" I asked.
His eyes, which had been fixed on the table, lifted to meet mine. They were pale brown, almost amber, in the harsh light of the lamp I'd placed on the table of the interrogation room. Empty.
"Twenty-nine."
I was surprised. He looked much older, but then Sitorian drugs were not kind to the body.
"When did you become an addict?" I asked.
A flicker of something crossed his face. Regret, maybe.
"Seventeen years ago."
My eyebrows shot all the way up. "You started using at twelve?"
I hadn't expected the damn Sitorians to go for kids, but it made sense. The younger they were, the easier they were to brainwash.
He shrugged.
"How did you get the materials needed to make it?"
"My father had a metalworking shop. He made ventilation tubes. Everything I needed was right there."
So that was why he had been recruited so young. He had access to the ingredients and the equipment needed to make that poison.
"Where were you recruited?"
He shrugged again. "On the streets of Podana. Gangs, you know. They use the stuff. Pay well for it."
He was lying, and not very well, which wasn't surprising. Growing up in Elucia, he hadn't been exposed to enough liars to learn how to do it properly, and his Sitorian masters had not invested enough effort to teach him.
Native Sitorians lied as a way of life, and they could do it so convincingly that even I, who had been trained in the officers' course to detect deceit, had a hard time distinguishing truth from lies.
I just assumed that every word leaving their mouths was a lie, which probably resulted in me getting it right ninety-nine percent of the time.
Bad liars tended to add unnecessary details to make their lies sound more convincing. Good liars knew to avoid that trap.
"You weren't recruited by a gang. We both know that, so stop pretending. When did the Sitorians approach you and where?"
"I wasn't approached by Sitorians."
This guy was going to be tough, which meant that I had to start threatening him. As a follower of Elusitor, Noven was not afraid of death, he welcomed it, but I'm sure he wasn't looking forward to prolonged torture.
"Look." I leaned toward him and smiled coldly. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I don't even need to beat you up, which I would very gladly do and still might. But I know that the withdrawal and hunger will do the work for me."
The panic in his eyes betrayed him, but he got a hold of himself. "That will take a very long time, and you want answers yesterday."
"What I want and what I can get are two different things. I want to find out everything I need to know as fast as possible, but I don't have to. I can wait until hunger pangs and withdrawal pain force you to talk."
He swallowed. "If I talk, are you going to bring me what I need?"
"No, but I can end your suffering swiftly and provide you with an express ticket to your kingdom of heaven."
The sudden light in his eyes was sickening, but then it dimmed. "If I tell you anything, I won't be admitted into the kingdom of heaven."
That was indeed a conundrum, and I had a decision to make.
Sighing dramatically, I leaned back in my chair.
"Then I guess it's going to be the hard way, and you will get to your kingdom many months from now, after your body consumes itself from the inside and there is nothing left of it.
" I let my eyes roam over his somewhat padded frame.
"You have a long way to go, buddy. Plenty of reserves. "
"Fine." He closed his eyes for a moment. "I was recruited at a training summer camp."
I hadn't expected that. "Who was the recruiter?"
"A young guy who was in Podana for the summer. I haven't seen him since. Others came and went, teaching me the way. This realm is just a test, and those who please Elusitor get to the kingdom of heaven, where devout followers are rewarded in every imaginable way."
The lies were neatly packaged so there was no room for questions. Pleasing Elusitor was the only goal, and it justified any means.
I detested the Sitorian religion, but I really should take a deeper look than the superficial one I had been taught in school and later in officer training. I needed to know more about what these lunatics believed in.
"How do you know any of this is true?" I asked him.
"The sacrament opens the mind to divine truth."
Sacrament, so that was what they called the drugs. They framed their poison in a religious framework, thinking that turned it into something holy.
"The sacrament," I repeated. "You've made it yourself with chemicals from your father's metalworking shop. How can you think that there is anything holy in the product?"
Another flicker in those empty eyes. I'd touched something.
"The recipe is divine," he sounded like he was parroting a sermon.
"Without Elusitor's instructions, no one would have known the right combination that opens the mind to his divine will.
Even a small miscalculation can make the sacrament deadly.
" He smiled then, his vacant eyes filling with religious fervor.
"Can you explain how mere humans could have known to turn something deadly into something divine?
It's impossible. That's the best proof that Elusitor's word to his followers is true. "
I could only imagine how many Sitorians, captive Elucians, and Elurians the Sitorian priests had killed while developing the formula. I chose not to voice it because I knew Noven would just say that it was blasphemy.
"You don't believe me," he said.
"No, I don't." I decided to tell him exactly what I thought. "You were deceived. Whoever developed the formula must have killed many people before perfecting it to become the sacrament."
He smiled, and his eyes shone with maniacal fervor.
"I have proof. The sacrament opens the mind to receive the dragon call.
I wasn't born with the gift, but the sacrament opened a channel of communication, and I heard the call.
That's how I got into the flight academy.
That's how the others got in as well." He leaned forward as much as his manacles allowed. "Now tell me that it is not divine."
"It's not." I kept my face impassive, but the truth was that I was rattled.
The drugs enhanced the gift. Or created the illusion of enhancement, at least. That explained why the failed cadets had been found gifted in the first place. They'd been dosed before the pilgrimage, artificially boosted past the threshold.
"How can you say that?" He looked like he wanted to strangle me with his bare hands, and the only reason he hadn't leaped for me was the shackles holding him down.
"Because it didn't last," I said. "You failed the tests."
The aggression faded from his body, and he slumped in his chair.
"I ran out of the sacrament, and I had no way of getting more.
" He straightened in his chair and squared his shoulders.
"It was all preordained. Elusitor had other plans for me.
I was to become the supplier of the sacrament to new converts arriving at the academy. "
"How many?" I asked.
He clamped down.
"You know that I'm going to get it out of you. So why prolong your suffering?"
"Twelve," he whispered. "Including me and those you've already caught."
I doubted he was telling me the truth, but for now, I let it go.
"How many are in Podana and other places?" I asked instead.
"I don't know the exact numbers, but the faithful are everywhere. When the time comes, all will rise."
A chill ran down my spine. "When the time comes for what?"
"To cleanse Aurorys from the demons controlling it." The words came out with strong conviction. "To destroy the dragons and those bonded to them and convert everyone else. Aurorys belongs to Elusitor, and Elusitor keeps his promises to the faithful."
Not a big surprise there. That was what every captured Sitorian said. At least they didn't lie about their end goals like their politicians did.
"I know what Elusitor promises." I stood, the chair scraping against stone. "Death, destruction, and the extinction of everything that makes life worth living."
Something flickered in his eyes. It wasn't doubt, but a small crack in the certainty. "You don't understand."
"I understand perfectly." I moved to the door and knocked twice, signaling the guards.
"You were manipulated, drugged, and fed lies until you couldn't distinguish them from the truth.
Give me the names of all the converts you know, and I might send you to check out the kingdom of heaven expeditiously.
I only wish you could return and tell every other moron who believes in the Sitorian lies whether it was worth betraying your people for. "