“Fallen Angel”
Chapter Seven: Lost
Soul
“I’m not trying to be difficult, Mr. Bettman, but you have to understand. Hockey is a way of life on our planet, not a job,” Wildwing protested with forced calmness. The discussion was increasingly becoming a heated debate, and Wildwing found it harder and harder to keep his cool.
The two men in front of him were supposedly the most enlightened people on Earth when it came to hockey, the heads of the National Hockey League, and therefore, should know a thing or two about the sport. However, as Canard and Wildwing were quickly discovering, Earthlings had no idea what hockey was really about.
It was a game of virtue, played to help sharpen not only the body, but also the mind. It taught discipline, confidence, and more importantly, it preached peace. In that belief, it was played and taught religiously by all on Puckworld, despite age. Earthlings didn’t see it that way.
“Your brother is seventeen, Mr. Bronzeplume,” Gary Bettman reiterated for the nineteenth time since the last meeting began over three hours ago. “There is no changing that. We have strict rules—”
“But can’t you make an exception?” Canard interrupted vehemently. “The kid will go insane without hockey for eight months. Hockey is life.”
“Have the tee-shirt, Mr. Bronzeplume?” the bald man, Daly, countered with bitterness.
Canard glared at him, confused. “Huh?”
“Look,” Wildwing interjected, “my brother will be an asset to the league, undoubtedly. He’ll fill the stands that we, as a team, don’t, and frankly, Mr. Bettman, you and your league need that right now.”
A dark scowl contorted the president’s scrawny face. His cheeks flushed. “How dare you, Mr. Bronzeplume. This league is—”
“Mr. Bettman,” Wildwing returned in the same embittered tone, “you won’t have a league soon if you don’t get the fans in the stands.”
The commissioner sighed deeply and shifted in his chair. “And why shouldn’t I make your brother go through the draft? A duck on another team might help to create a bigger draw for the other team, not just yours.”
“Because I’m his only family,” Wildwing defended, his face and
tone serious. “Because he’s not human, and everything that binds him to his homeworld and his life is in
“We have facilities to ensure your brother’s needs, Mr. Bronzeplume.”
“Fine,” Phil Palmfeather conceded, sitting back in his chair as well and disregarding the shocked looks on Wildwing and Canard’s faces. “However,” he continued in a resolute tone, “if he were to get hurt and you couldn’t provide the essential medical care, which led to complications or even death, I can assure you my team and I would sue you and the league for everything it’s worth, Mister Bettman.”
Gary Bettman smoldered in his seat, eyes narrowed toward the three men across the table. He opened his mouth to retort—
“Wildwing?”
Wildwing sat straight up in his seat at the shaky voice and turned swiftly. “Mallory, what are you doing here?”
Mallory McMallard, dressed in battle gear, moved from the doorway and met Wildwing’s widened eyes, looking scared and uncertain.
“Mallory, what is it? What’s wrong?” he demanded earnestly, standing along side Canard.
“It’s Nosedive,” she answered after a moment. “….He’s gone.”
*^*^*
It was the worst moment in Wildwing’s life since his baby brother was ripped from his arms almost fifteen years ago, and it progressively was getting worse.
He rushed desperately onto the Aerowing, spotting Duke instantly at the front of the cockpit. In the former thief’s hands was paper and a luminous, familiar necklace.
His heart stopped. His world tumbled off-balance. His breath caught in his throat, and a violent shiver overtook his being. His head shook in denial. He couldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t believe it. His wide and terrified eyes drifted down to the paper that now occupied his left hand.
“Dear Wildwing,
I’m sorry you wasted fifteen years looking for me. I know I’m the last person you wanted to find out you share genes with, and I’m sorry you had to. I wish things could be different, but we’re different. I’m different. I’m just not the brother you want me to be, and I know that already. So, you don’t have to tell me. Thanks for caring, and thanks for being my big bro.
Love,
Nosedive
P.S. Thank Mallory for me for the clothes. I took a few, but I never wore the rest. I didn’t even take off the tags. Receipts are on top of the bags.”
Wildwing sunk slowly into the copilot’s chair, eyes magnifying his myriad of emotions, beak agape, heart gripped by fear. He held the letter, shaking, in one hand, while he clutched Nosedive’s necklace in the other.
Canard laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and turned to Duke, sitting in the seat across from him. “What happened?” he asked softly.
Duke sighed heavily and averted his eyes to the floor. A moment later, he focused primarily on the distraught leader. “Wildwing—”
“What the hell happened?” Wildwing snapped to life, his eyes blazing furiously at Duke. “What did you do to him?”
“…W—What?”
“Dive was scared of you! He said you’d kill him! Why? What did you do to him?”
Duke grimaced and let out a deep sigh. He glared directly and unflinchingly at the irate older brother. “Wildwing…Nosedive has a Stigma.”
Wildwing froze. His face drained of blood. His lungs failed to fill with oxygen. His heart burned an unbearable pain, and he couldn’t stop it.
Slowly, his head fell into his hands, as his thoughts whirled unbound in his head. How stupid was he for not seeing it before? The time they were skating, after Siege had left the Pond, then at the mountain…He should have seen it. His brother was in pain and going through Hell right in front of his eyes, and he didn’t know it.
Wildwing swallowed hard, a bitter taste infiltrating his beak. He dropped his head back against the headrest, eyes open with tears. It disgusted him that Wraith marked his brother, actually touched Nosedive’s back and formed that horrid taint upon the boy’s feathers and skin. It disgusted him even to think Dragaunus would do that to a seventeen-year-old, would bring him down to a level of hopelessness and make him believe his brother would reject him because of it, would brainwash him to that degree.
It was sick. Just disgustingly sick.
“How?” he breathed in a broken
whisper before spurting desperately, “When?”
“Tanya noticed his back was hurting, and one thing led to another…” answered Duke in all honesty. “The kid’s had it for a while, though, Wing.”
“I saw it when he came in,” Wildwing admitted hollowly, “but I didn’t think it was…I just thought that…We have to find him,” he declared suddenly, catching Duke and Canard off guard. He crumbled Nosedive’s letter in his hand. “I have to find him.”
“Tanya and Grin are all ready out looking for him,” Mallory informed from the pilot’s seat, looking back over her shoulder at them.
“His comm. unit!” Canard spurted. “Check the tracking device.”
Duke shook his head. “We can’t. He left it at the Pond.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Wildwing grated. He grabbed the Mask from the dashboard and placed it upon his face. “I will find my brother.”
“...Wildwing? There’s something else you need to know.”
Wildwing fixed Duke with what only the former thief could guess was a confused expression. With the Mask on, it was hard at times to see exactly what Wildwing’s facial expressions were.
“Spill, Duke,” Wildwing prompted firmly.
Duke rubbed the back of his neck and said sheepishly, “Wildwing, I know how your brother met Lucretia.”
“What! How?”
“When I was with the Brotherhood, we had this rival gang known as the Blood Beaks,” Duke explained. “We didn’t do the same type of crimes. The Brotherhood of the Blade was this ancient society, mostly believed as legend. Stealing for profit wasn’t its main objective. At times, scientific research or even historical significance was its goal.
“The Blood Beaks had no such goal. They were purely out of for the ol’ mighty buck, and they used drugs as their main source of income. Used kids a lot of the time as containers to smuggle the drugs onto Puckworld from neighboring planets.”
Wildwing inhaled a shivering breath. “Duke, please don’t be heading where I think you are,” he practically begged.
Duke cringed. “The Brotherhood didn’t approve of the Blood Beaks methods, and we crossed blades a lot. Nosedive was afraid of me because he had a run-in with a member from the Brotherhood, guy named Falcone.”
“But where does Lucretia fit in?” Canard asked, his tone tainted with concern.
“Lucretia used to run the Blood Beaks, along side her boyfriend, Blade. Nosedive must have lived with them for a few years.”
“Was he ever one of those—”
Hesitation. “I don’t know.”
Wildwing nodded rigidly. His body shook at the amount and severity of the information he had acquired, and he, as of yet, wasn’t able to process it all.
“I have to find him,” Wildwing reaffirmed distractedly. “I have to.”
Catching his brother eyes, Canard promised, “We will.”
The rest of the flight home was conducted in silence.
*^*^*
After the Aerowing landed, the four Mighty Ducks joined the search, leaving Phil at Drake One to wait in case Nosedive returned.
They didn’t find him.
Following the first night, the ducks went to the police. Captain Klegghorn complied swiftly and alerted the patrolmen of the situation. They collectively decided to keep the media out of it, so as not to attract the attention of xenophobes, mad scientists, predators, and most of all, Dragaunus. If the overlord didn’t know Nosedive was missing, Wildwing certainly didn’t want him to.
For the first week, everyone was hopeful, looking continuously. However, as the weeks turned into a month, painstaking slowly hope began to dwindle. Wildwing was brokenhearted, utterly devastated, a shell of the leader he once was. Hope faded into wishing, which shattered into desperate praying for anything—a sign, a message, a strand of hair—evidence of something, anything.
But nothing surfaced.
Not even Dragaunus attacked.
Until tonight.
*^*^*
Nosedive limped down the halls of the Raptor, breathing shallowly. A wave of dizziness overtook his being, and he stopped suddenly to lean against the wall, his body collapsing in exhaustion. He titled his head back against the metal, mildly entertaining the idea of banging it to the point of unconsciousness, but even that wouldn’t stop the pain. It lingered in every part of his body, never subsiding, never diminishing to the point where it faded to nothingness. It was always there, a doleful reminder of his place, his caste. Sometimes, it flared in his face, chest, and back—the targeted areas of Lord Dragaunus and Company. He didn’t need a mirror to know he had at least one black eye—again—and he was pretty sure he had a concussion.
He sighed heavily and closed his eyes forlornly. None of that mattered. This was just his life.
There was no hope, no refuge. He was just happy the Saurians decided to at least give him the freedom to walk about the Raptor now. They knew he wasn’t going anywhere. He accepted his place, and even if he did run, they would find him with a touch of magic. It was futile to leave. Hell, it was stupid. The beatings had died down now that he returned, but if he ever left, they’d go as far as they could without killing him.
Now that was a joyful thought. He was so looking forward to that.
Still, he tried to avoid them as much as possible, actually staying in his cell whenever he could, but with the tasks they gave him, it was nearly impossible. And every time they saw him, he didn’t escape without at least a punch.
His world finally regained balance, and resigned to the fact the universe hated him, Nosedive pushed off the wall. He winced painfully, gripping his stomach. A broken rib—that was new.
He shuffled down the short distance left in the hallway, turning to the right at the first cell. It was practically empty besides the duffle bag he had reclaimed after Dragaunus tore it from him. The walls were a morose, blood red with splashes of what Nosedive could only guess was the said substance. He tried not to think of how much of it was actually his. He breathed to sigh again, only to be overwhelmed by nausea. The putrid, rancid smell of decay and blood filtered into his beak, and he leaned over, expelling what he had for breakfast—whatever that was.
Wiping his beak, he rolled his eyes and made a mental note to clean it up later. For now, though, he needed to recuperate before the Saurians came looking for him. Another plus of the freedom—there were lots of places to hide in the Raptor.
Of course, once he was found…
He dipped into his duffel bag and pulled out a purple jersey. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the name; however, just holding it made him feel better—and worse…to know that somewhere, somehow, Wildwing wished he had never met him.
He fluffed the shirt on the floor and laid down, placing his head on the jersey. Face up, staring at the ceiling, Nosedive found himself overwhelmingly tired and hopelessly lost…and yet, he couldn’t sleep.
*^*^*
Wildwing tossed and turned in his bed. Groaning loudly, he flipped over and stared at the alarm clock. Three-fifty-eight. Well, he wasn’t going to sleep tonight…not when Nosedive was out there all alone, Stars only knew where…
He grabbed the necklace that now hung around his neck and scowled. Stupid kid. Didn’t he know just how much Wildwing loved him? He searched fifteen years for him. He certainly wasn’t going to give him up without a fight. He would find Nosedive. He would.
Exhaling loudly, Wildwing dropped from his bed and evacuated his room. He strode down the hallway, stopping at the next door. Slamming in the code, he entered the dark room and flipped on the lights, gaining a protesting groan from the person in bed.
“Hey, bro, you asleep?”
Canard fought into a sitting position and tiredly, with black circles under his eyes, stared at Wildwing. “No, what would give you that idea?”
“Come on. I have to play hockey.”
Canard shot a look at the alarm clock. “Now?” he questioned incredulously. At the pleading look on Wildwing’s face, Canard swore under his breath, then threw off his covers. “I can’t wait till we get Nosedive back,” he mumbled as he followed Wildwing into the elevator and up to the locker room. “I’m locking the kid in his room, and we’ll slip some food under the door.”
Wildwing ignored him and opened his locker for the first time in a month. With Nosedive missing, the ducks cancelled all their games in order to look for their youngest member. When it began apparent they weren’t going to find Nosedive, Wildwing was too distraught to play, and with a defective goalie, the ducks would have been the laughing stock of the league.
It was time, Wildwing thought fervently. Now he needed hockey like he needed water. He needed to forget the pain ripping soul-wrenchingly at his chest and the hopelessness that had settled in his gut.
Grabbing absentmindedly for his jerseys, Wildwing was bewildered when his fingers swirled through the air, grasping nothing. He looked inside his locker and blinked. His jerseys were missing. Where did they—?
“Wing, you okay?” Canard asked from behind him, snapping on his shoulder pads.
Wildwing moved to the side and watched as Canard’s eyes widened, then shifted to meet his.
“Where did they…You don’t think—”
Wildwing nodded. “Nosedive took them.”
“But why?” Canard challenged. “It makes no—”
Drake One’s alarm tore through the locker room, drowning out whatever Canard said. Ripping off his pads, the tan mallard sprinted after Wildwing and toward the elevator.
Wildwing and he were at Drake One first. The leader quickly pressed a few buttons, then looked up at the red dot on Drake One’s purple screen.
“Teleportation
energy was detected at a steel mill on the
“Hey, Tanya, isn’t that where the Saurians attacked the night we found out about Nosedive’s…” Mallory shut her beak abruptly at the look Wildwing sent her.
Tanya nodded. “Whatever Dragaunus was after, he definitely wants it.”
“Then let’s rock, Ducks!” Wildwing ordered harshly, the firmest command he had given since Nosedive’s disappearance, and the team took off for the hanger with a refueled vigor.
*^*^*
Wildwing peeked over the edge of the small wall at the base of the mill. Next to him, the Mighty Ducks crouched behind the wall as he scanned the scene in front of him with the Mask. Less than thirty feet away, Wraith and Chameleon crowded around a mass of freshly made steel ready to be distributed. Miraculously, a beam of steel was lifted into the air, as per instructions from Wraith’s bony fingers, and with a snap, the beam crumbled in on itself in front of the mage and disappeared from sight.
Dark
Saurian magic, got to hate it.
Wildwing at least could take comfort in that neither Dragaunus nor Siege were anywhere to be found.
Nodding to his team, Wildwing pointed to Mallory, Duke, and Tanya to go to the left, while he, Canard, and Grin moved toward the right to surround the Saurians. As they slipped from cover to cover, Wildwing felt his face flush. It would take all his will power not to kill the Saurians the instant he got an open shot. His eyes narrowed—like now.
He stopped inches from the Saurians and peered across the mill. Duke’s team was in place on the other side of the Saurians, and Wildwing and Duke nodded collectively.
“Freeze, Lizard Lard!” Wildwing commanded as he leapt from behind a piece of a machinery and aimed his gauntlet at the Saurians. At the same time, the ducks jumped out from their hiding places, encircling the Saurians.
“Surrender, now!” Mallory yelled.
Wildwing eyed the device on the steel—It was a container, no bigger than the size of a small TV, and by the color of the liquid swimming in it, the Saurians were melting down the steel into a compression container. Why?
Distracted, Wildwing didn’t hear the cocking behind him until it was too late.
“Yo, Wildwing! Look out!” Duke warned.
Diving to his right just as a metal screw shot just where he stood, Wildwing rolled upon the ground. He regained his footing a second later and activated his ice shield to block the attack. Wildwing spotted Siege on the top of a platform, manning a power gun, firing at the ducks retreating and leaving Wraith and Chameleon alone.
Wildwing made a mental note: Saurian, power tool, high ground—not a good combination.
The leader scoured the area, spying Canard ducking behind a control console. He shouted to his brother, and a moment later, his twin brother rolled under the erected shield.
“You called?”
“Shoot Siege for me,” Wildwing said simply.
“Fine, but you owe me one,” Canard teased. He aimed his puck launcher. With one precise shot, the gun exploded, flinging screws everywhere.
Once it stopped raining metal, Wildwing and Canard focused their attention toward Chameleon and Wraith. Wraith put his hand out in from of him, forming a fireball, while Chameleon shifted into a bodybuilder.
Wildwing stepped in front of Canard, blocking the fireball. His gauntlet flew forward to return fire when a puck passed in front of the decrepit mage, millimeters from the Saurian’s head. Blinking, Wildwing didn’t fire as he registered Mallory and Duke, striding toward the Saurians, Duke’s sword drawn, Mallory’s puck launcher smoking in her hands.
Chameleon glowed dark green for a moment and morphed into Bane, complete with tube in head. “You ducks think you can take this!”
A hand clamped down on Chameleon’s shoulder, and the Saurian looked over it fearfully. Grin, face hard, grasped Chameleon by the arm and tossed him against the beams of steel, effectively taking him off of the fray.
“You’ve lost, Wraith,” Wildwing said resolutely.
“I believe it is you who have lost, Wildwing,” a surly voice scolded.
Spinning instinctively, Wildwing pointed his gauntlet directly at Dragaunus’s chest, the Saurian not even five feet away.
“What are you talking about, Lizard Lips?” Wildwing inquired sharply.
The wicked smirk that contorted Dragaunus’s sinister face made Wildwing’s blood run cold, and the leader wished he didn’t know what Dragaunus was about to say.
“Lose something recently, Wildwing? Or should I say, someone?”
Wildwing inhaled a shuddering breath, his insides completely numb. “Where’s my brother, Dragaunus? What have you done with him?”
“I haven’t done anything to the boy that he didn’t concede,” the overlord informed balefully. “In fact, he came to me.”
“No!” His gauntlet began to shake, as his voice hardened. Nosedive couldn’t have…Nosedive wouldn’t have… Repugnant images of the crimson and onyx taint on his brother’s back resurfaced, while ethereal words floated through his head, I know that I’m the last person you wanted to find out you share genes with, and I’m sorry you had to. “Where. Is. He!” Wildwing grounded out through his clenched teeth.
“It was quite a spectacle, actually. You would have rather enjoyed it—”
A shimmering twinkled behind Wildwing, and he didn’t even register that Wraith had left—along with the mechanism. In glimmer of green, the Chameleon, too, disappeared.
Wildwing glowered at Dragaunus, the overlord occupying the leader’s full, rapt attention.
“—when he collapsed onto his knees and begged me to take him back. He knows where he belongs, and it’s not with you. He knew you were never accept him for what he is now—a slave, my slave.”
Wildwing took a stride forward, his eyes never shifting from their burning fierceness. “Dragaunus, I swear to the Stars if you don’t give me my brother—”
“Wildwing,” Dragaunus sneered resignedly, “one day you must tell me how it feels to be completely helpless. I entertain it must be the same feeling your brother has right now.”
Wildwing dove for Dragaunus as the overlord began to fade from sight and almost touched the flip of Dragaunus’s cape as it dematerialized from sight.
“NO!” Wildwing shrieked, but it didn’t make him feel any better.
The scaly demon had reclaimed his brother, and there was nothing he could do.
*^*^*
Nosedive leaned against the side of the command room’s doorway, listening attentively. There had been a clamor of arrogant laughter and cackling when the Saurians returned, and that didn’t rest well the teen. Was the team okay? Was Wildwing okay?
Oh,
please, don’t let Wildwing be hurt.
He prayed that wasn’t the case.
“This is only the first step,” Dragaunus gloated loud enough for the teen to hear from the hallway, but the voice was still muffled.
Nosedive leaned a little closer.
With a sip of something—probably *rickoa* juice, Dragaunus’s favorite drink, Nosedive assumed, sticking out his tongue—the overlord ordered, “Commence the building of the ray.”
“But boss,” Chameleon addressed, “we don’t even have the Proteus Chip yet.”
“We’ll get it soon enough,” the overlord assured, “then the Mighty Ducks and Earth will crumble to my feet!”
Nosedive looked heavenward and fidgeted nervously. He couldn’t let that happen. Even if Wildwing didn’t love him anymore, he couldn’t let the Saurians kill him.
He needed to do something…anything…
He peeked inside, and his eyes went wide at the sight of the Chameleon walking toward him with the device.
*^*^*
“Wildwing, it’ll be okay,” Canard eased as the team entered the elevator from the hanger. “We’ll find him.”
“He went back to him…” Wildwing repeated again and again. During the whole ride home, that was all he could say. He just couldn’t believe it. “Nosedive went back to Dragaunus…”
“Nosedive called Dragaunus his lord,” Mallory said prosaically. “If he really believes that, then it makes sense for him to go back.”
“But Dragaunus isn’t his lord!” bit Wildwing before he sighed and dropped his head into the hands. “He went to back to him…to him!”
The doors to the Ready Room opened with a whish, and Wildwing paused. He could practically feel the tension of his team. His eyes perked up and pored over the Ready Room, laying on the console of Drake One.
The device from the steel mill—it was right there!
“Tanya, check the security cameras!” Wildwing directed as he rushed up to the device and surveyed it. Sure enough, it was the same machine, complete with liquid steel. But how…? Unless…
Wildwing watched with bated breath as Tanya tapped a few buttons on the keyboard. On the screen appeared four camera feeds, one of the Ready Room, another of the locker room, the third of the arena, and the last of the parking lot.
“I rewound them five minutes,” she informed.
Wildwing nodded and intently observed the screen. After a few moments, the bottom right image grabbed his attention when a bright green light shimmered from nothing.
“That one.”
Tanya punched a few keys, and the picture filled the entire screen.
The green shimmering gave way to a timorous, blonde teenager, peering back and forth, looking so scared and so young. In his arms was the device, undeniably. Dressed in ripped jeans and a bloody teal shirt, Nosedive seemed to gather his bearings and made a mad dash toward the Pond. He keyed in a code on the pad outside the arena door, then entered the building.
Tanya quickly switched screens to the arena, where the team watched Nosedive run around the ice and into the hallway by the locker rooms. Tanya skipped over the locker room and switched cameras to the one in the Ready Room.
Nosedive entered the room rather hesitant, but quickly dropped the machine onto Drake One’s console. When he turned around, he jumped in surprise at Phil, standing in his way and bombarding the young duck with questions. Nosedive smiled shortly, spat something briskly, before hurrying around Phil and back into the elevator. He probably wouldn’t have been able to teleport from inside the arena with the shields up.
Wildwing glared at the screen for a long moment after the final clip finished. A painful heaviness tugged at his chest, and all he could think about was what would happen to his brother once Dragaunus figured out Nosedive took the device.
*^*^*
“You deceitful, infinitesimal waif!” Dragaunus snarled and struck out, backhanding Nosedive across the face and sending the teen to the floor. “How dare you betray me!” He kicked the boy in the stomach. “You think you can save your precious team by stealing from me!” He ignored the groaned protest and seized Nosedive by the shirt, lifting him higher than his height. Eyes narrowed in a sinister glare, the overlord regarded Nosedive as the prey he hunted.
“Where is it?” Dragaunus hissed.
Nosedive coughed, his lungs heaving in spurts of air laboriously. When he opened his beak, blood oozed from the corner. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar!” He threw the mangled teen into the wall, and Nosedive’s head snapped back, slamming into the metal. Yet, Dragaunus retained his hold on the boy. “I should rip you limb from limb! Where is it! What did you do with it!”
Nosedive’s eyes opened no bigger than tiny slits. They were bloodshot and clouded with pain. “I won’t let you hurt him,” he grated faintly.
“Him?” Dragaunus repeated indecisively. His face relaxed and a menacing, haughtily laugh escaped from his mouth, sending shivers through Nosedive’s frame. The overlord fixed the teen with a hard, merciless gaze. “He doesn’t care for you anymore, boy. I am the only one who will ever give a fraction of thought to your insignificant, worthless existence, and that, my perfidious servant, can change at any given moment.”
Nosedive, pressed against the wall, face inches from Dragaunus’s baleful teeth, eyes welled with tears, returned softly, “Burn in Hell…my liege.” The last words were sputtered with resentful sarcasm.
Dragaunus growled furiously and with a thrust of his arm, flung the boy—hard and brutally. A macabre reverberation sounded through the room when Nosedive collided with the floor, and the teen laid motionless thereafter.
Apathetically, Dragaunus stepped over the boy’s lifeless body and turned fiercely to Wraith. “Find out where it is. I want it back, now!” He stalked from the room, leaving his mage to his thoughts.
As Wraith’s face contorted into a vicious and evil smirk, the teen on the floor softly began to moan and stir.
*^*^*
The roar of the crowd, even though it was an opposing team’s crowd, was exhilarating and subsequently, deafening. Standing in the locker room, the Mighty Ducks found it hard to concentrate on their first game back, let alone plan a strategy of attack. Finally, Wildwing gave up and dictated a two-word command: “Wing it.”
Finishing up the buckles on his leg pads, Wildwing sat down on the bench and shook his head. He tried to get his head in the game, tried to figure just how to stop the Coyotes, especially with their head coach, some guy whom the humans referred to as “The Great One.” Evidently, he had been good at playing hockey before retiring, and Wildwing wanted to be ready.
But he couldn’t think of hockey.
He thought of how to shut down Brett Hull and David Tanabe, and then recalled a few tips he had to give his team about Curtis Joseph or Brian Boucher. He also had to make sure to tell Mallory to keep on Matthew Spiller; he was bound to breakthrough soon. Spiller was a young player, one of the youngest in the NHL, and it was only a matter of time until he found his skates—Nosedive was younger than Spiller and would definitely breakthrough faster…Where was his brother? Was he still okay? Was he still alive?
“Man,” Canard commented as he fell to the bench next to Wildwing, “can you believe those fans? Can you imagine our own fans when we have our first home game? They’re going to be wild.”
“What happens if he came home, and no one was there?”
Canard would have been confused, if he didn’t know his brother. “Phil’s there,” he said simply and shook his brother’s shoulder fondly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I shouldn’t have left,” Wildwing replied sharply. “I should be there, just in case.”
“You’re not just the kid’s older brother, Wild. You’re the team leader, too.”
Wildwing frowned at Canard, his eyes never wavering. “I’m his brother first. I’m your brother first.”
Canard let out a scoffed laugh and shrugged. “Look, it’s just…Wildwing, you have to be cognizant. Dragaunus has an agenda. Letting the kid go…you know Dive didn’t escape on his own, and now that he’s gone back, actually gone back…there’s a plan there, Wildwing. There is. Whether it’s just to distract you, or to have Dive give him all our secrets—”
“What did you just say?” Wildwing said harshly.
Canard inhaled a deep breath. “Look, Wildwing, I’m not going to hit around the puck here. Dive comes here; we give him complete access and poof! He goes back to Dragaunus. It reeks of Lizard Lips, and what better way to get to us than through Dive.”
“You’re wrong,” Wildwing concluded flatly, pulling on his jersey and standing.
“I’m not, Wildwing, and you know it.”
“I don’t know anything!” Wildwing whirled to Canard, an accusing finger pointed toward his twin brother. “He left the device Dragaunus wanted at the Pond! He—”
“Did we even check that thing?” Canard argued. “How do we know it doesn’t have a listening device on it or even a camera?”
Wildwing shook his head in denial and walked away from his brother. “No, Canard. Just no.”
“Stars, Wildwing! You’re not this blind!” Canard screamed across the locker room at Wildwing’s retreating back, drawing the rest of the ducks
into their conversation. He halted suddenly, his voice softening, demoralized.
“He knew a traitor!”
Wildwing whirled, his face contorted in barely manageable rage. “Canard—”
“Wildwing, see it! He went back to Dragaunus—willing!”
“We don’t really know that!”
“He was in a gang! He took drugs—”
“That doesn’t mean—”
Canard clutched his brother’s forearm. “Face it, Wing: Your brother isn't the perfect little kid you remember. He fell from grace a long time ago.”
“He’s not a traitor!” Wildwing exasperated. Looking about the room, he took note of the downcast looks and averted eyes. “Is that how you all feel?”
“Well…” Tanya hesitated, “it’s certainly possible.”
“Nah, the kid wouldn’t do that,” Duke objected.
Grin looked the distraught leader directly in the eyes and proclaimed, “He’s aura is pained, clouded, but not evil.”
Wildwing nodded. “Thanks, Grin…Mallory?” He really didn’t need to ask. He was fairly certain how she would answer.
To his surprise, Mallory glanced at Canard before shaking her head. “He’s not.”
“You sure?” the tan mallard prompted, almost bitterly.
Mallory stared at him thoughtfully. “When my brother came back to the cell after being branded, I saw the look on his face—lost, frightened, disoriented. Nosedive had that same look.” She met Wildwing’s eyes with a small smile. “He’s not a traitor.”
“I still think we need to be careful,” Canard warned. “Even if he’s not a traitor—” He paused briefly and turned his attention toward Wildwing,”—we don’t know what Dragaunus got out of him and what he didn’t.”
“We will be,” Wildwing confirmed.
It was then the wailing of their comm. went off. A collective grunt resounded. In the same confinement, Drake One’s alarm was obnoxiously loud.
“Teleportation
energy,” Tanya informed everyone as she read her omnitool.
“It’s back in
“A warehouse,” Mallory asked, “or the warehouse?”
Wildwing spared her a confused glare and sighed, only briefly wondering exactly how long it was until the game started.
*^*^*
Nosedive Flashblade had been many things in life. An orphan, an annoyance, a protégé—not a good one, but still…—a hostage, a gang member, a son, a recruit, a brother, a slave.
And while he was ashamed at some and humbled by others, he loathed at being bait.
Scowling, Nosedive gritted his teeth and braced himself for the pain that would follow, then yanked at the energy bonds tying him to the middle pillar of the warehouse. Almost at the initiation of the resistance, his body jerked, and pain shot through his ribs, his wrists, his head…everything.
Whining softly, he strained as he continued to pull even through the crippling pain. He had to get free. He had to alert the Mighty Ducks! He couldn’t let Lord Dragaunus’s plan go through! It would mean the end of the world, and now that Dragaunus had the information he needed to succeed…He needed to alert Wildwing.
Even if it meant confronting his brother…
He had to.
Oh, Stars…
He surveyed the bonds attaching him to the pole. Maybe if he had all his strength, but he was so tired, so weak. There was no way he was getting out of these. The only thing he could do was wait for the Mighty Ducks and explain the situation then.
At that thought, Nosedive let his resistance subside and shimmied his bonded hands down the pole so he could sit cross-legged comfortably on the floor—or at least to sit one leg bent inward, the other straight. Comfort was a luxury he didn’t deserve.
As he slumped forward, head hanging, he felt his shoulder tighten, and a hiss slipped between his clenched teeth. His shoulder was dislocated. Wonderful. A red substance dribbled onto his jeans, a drip. Another. Then another. Nosedive blinked and wiped his beak on his good shoulder. Blood smeared on his shirt. If he was still bleeding, he couldn’t imagine what he looked like after the beating session the Saurians felt compelled to include him in for resisting to being bait. And after they knocked him into stupor, he wasn’t sure exactly what else happened. Waking up to an empty warehouse and tied to a pole, he had some indication.
Blowing up his bangs, he sighed exasperatingly when his hair just fell in the same limp position they were prior. Yeah, that helped.
He looked left, then right, up and down. This place again? Geez, he had seen more of this building than both the Pond and the Raptor. And never was anyone working. He wanted to work for this place…unless it was out of business…
Stars, where were the Mighty Ducks? It was a good thing he wasn’t in danger or something. Well…not in immediate danger, that was.
“Don’t want to be an American Idiot,” Nosedive began to murmur. “Don’t want a nation to drive the new media. Hey, can you hear the sound of—”
“NOSEDIVE!”
Nosedive tensed rigidly and ever so slowly, turned.
*^*^*
The teen looked fearfully over his shoulder, and their eyes met for the first time since Nosedive left.
Wildwing stood less than ten feet away from his baby brother, who was tied face toward to the pole in the middle of the clearing. The boy’s body language spoke volumes, slouched in despair, head peeking over his shoulder. His legs were crossed but not tightly so. It was obvious at least one leg was injured, since it was stretched straight out to the side. His shirt was ripped in the back and drenched by a red substance in lines and splotches; the shirt had been put on before his wounds had been dressed or healed.
Blood trickled from side of Nosedive’s beak, while a dark, purple contusion blemished the boy’s left cheek. His forehead was almost completely covered by bedraggled bangs, yet Wildwing could see the remnants of a rather aged bruise and the start of a deep gash. His right eye was once more encircled by black, seeping into the pupils.
But all that could be dismissed if not for his eyes. Nosedive stared at him, looking so terrified, so much like a little hatchling with a Saurian in the closet. His once piercing blue eyes were faded, now a dull ice. They darted back and forth frantically, relying the emotions tearing at the teen’s heart. They were haunted, tormented, terrified, and so alone.
Wildwing hit the sides of the Mask and for the first time, saw his brother’s outline in his sights.
“Nosedive,” Wildwing reiterated in a softer, poignant tone, crossing the distance between them in an instant and crouching down at his brother’s side. His body shivered visually at the rush of relief flooding him. “Are you okay? Stars, look what they did to you.”
He cupped Nosedive’s face, despite the teen’s flinching, and scrutinized the bruises and wounds bleakly. They looked worse close up, as did Nosedive’s glare. He released the shocked teen and wiped the blood from his beak.
“It must have hurt, huh?” Wildwing continued warmly, pushing back Nosedive’s bangs to examine his forehead wounds as Duke activated his sword and cut the teen out of his bonds. The older brother caught the boy’s hands and rubbed his featherless and raw wrists.
Staring at Wildwing, Nosedive breathed soundlessly, eyes focused directly on his brother’s face.
“What are you doing?” he asked meekly.
Wildwing tilted his head to the side, a tiny smile crossing his features. “Huh, baby bro?”
The teen flinched, noticeably, then didn’t meet Wildwing’s eyes again. Instead, he pulled his hands from his older brother, then muttered, “You have to go.”
“What?” There was no way Wildwing was losing his little brother, not again.
“I’m a distraction,” Nosedive murmured, struggling to his feet and leaning on the pole to keep him vertical. He looked away from Wildwing when the older brother stood. “Lord Dragaunus is attacking the Pond to get back the steel. You have to stop him.”
Wildwing saw Canard’s beak drop out of the corner of his eyes, but the leader ignored it. “He won’t get it. He doesn’t know any of the combinations or where it is,” Wildwing comforted, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulders. He felt Nosedive’s muscles tense, then relax before his hand was shaken from the shoulder.
“He knows them, okay?” the teen’s voice rose in urgency, and he finally met the older brother’s eyes, tears evident in his own. “You have to go,” he ushered weakly. “You have to stop them before they get it.”
“You told them, kid, didn’t you?” Duke accused gently, his voice more disheartened than harsh.
Nosedive stared at him for a moment. “T—T—They…” He shuddered and crossed his arms, focusing on the floor. “They mind-raped me.”
Wildwing’s anger fueled, and his fists balled. He didn’t know what that was, but he sure didn’t like the sound of it or Nosedive’s reaction. Cheeks flushed, arms crossed, closing himself off from the world, the teen was embarrassed, ashamed.
“Nosedive…” Wildwing moved to draw his brother into a hug but was met with a hand to his chest armor.
“You have to go,” Nosedive beseeched again, staring at Wildwing’s chest. “Please… just go.”
“You’re coming with us.”
Nosedive shook his head. “I—I can’t.”
“Young one, we will not leave one so lost,” Grin’s voice grumbled from behind Wildwing.
“Don’t you know?” The teen shot a look at Duke. “Didn’t you tell them?” He didn’t wait for a reply and shoved Wildwing away. “You have to go! Stop Lord Dragaunus!”
Wildwing didn’t fumble backwards more than a step and countered, “I’m not leaving without you.”
“Don’t you understand!” Nosedive burst out, tears streaming from his eyes. “He’ll take over the world if you don’t go now!”
“Wildwing…” Canard called, but the leader put up a hand.
“Don’t you understand how important you are to me!”
“Wildwing…” Nosedive choked back sobs and pleaded with his brother. “Please. Listen to me. This isn’t about me. I told you. We’re different. It didn’t work. I—I know my place. This is my destiny, and I—I accept it, okay?”
“You accept this? Getting beat everyday and laboring for a dictatorial, homicidal lunatic!”
“I don’t have a choice!” the teen retorted helplessly. “I belong with him—to him!”
“No you don’t! There is always a choice!” Wildwing stretched out his hand to his brother and bore his unyielding eyes into Nosedive’s insecure ones. “You just to look in front of you.”
Nosedive eyed the hand diffidently. After a long moment, he turned his back to Wildwing, his head ducking. “Once you find out the truth, you’ll think differently.”
A murmured, dismayed whisper. “You’re not coming voluntarily, are you?”
“…I’m sorry, Wildwing.”
“No, I’m sorry.” Wildwing walked up his brother, his breathing ragged, the knowledge of what he had to do weighing down upon him.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You can’t pick your family.”
“No, I’m sorry I have to break my promise.”
“What promise?”
Nosedive turned, startled, and gasped at the fist that came toward him.
To Be Continued…