PART FIFTY:
Of secrets, spys and serpents:
Juja wriggled her way, towards the center of the room. Moving as far as she possible could, from the large boiling pot. She sneezed suddenly and then rubbed her nose, with the back of her chained hands. Whatever was cooking on the small stove, at the other end of the dark cryptic chamber. Was burning her eyes and nose and causing her skin to itch. She was feeling groggy and dizzy, as she struggled to identify where she was exactly. It appeared, that there was a spell amid other things at work around her. The effects, heavily aided by the sizzling vapor from the pot. Was definitely beginning to take effect.
In a matter of maybe hours, she would completely lose her mind and self. Even scarier, was the fact that she would become another creature. Any medium chosen by her captors, to best accomplish the task at hand. Or they might render her senseless, to merely occupy a passive role. For the sole purpose of distracting and deceiving. She had seen this process, used on other defenseless victims before. Her knowledge had definitely not been by invitation or revelation. Twice she had snuck into the secret chamber, out of curiosity. And what she had seen, not only petrified he. But tore repulsively, at her very core.
The gruesome procedure and its subsequent result, was as devastating to a casual onlooker. As it was to the subject undergoing the metamorphosis. However, she had secretly noted and learned something to herself. It was possible for the trapped person, to retain some sort of consciousness and/or awareness. If they could somehow, interrupt the exercise and its timing. Then they could inconspicuously, abort the most vital part of the unwelcome transformation. So that although her body would be altered, to that of a reptile, bird or animal. She would still have some conscious control of her mind. Thereby, being able to tell her whereabouts. What was going on at the location and what she was doing there.
The spell would then be unnoticeably restricted, to some degree. Juja glanced at the back of her right arm, with ample strain. She had drawn some small parallel lines on them, when she began to suspect that they would come for her. Her defiant questioning of their motives and verbal resistance. Was as good as signing a death sentence. Yet she knew they would not kill her, at least not now. The group still had more that they would like to bilk from her. The spying assignment of these many years, was just a chip off the real agenda. They had probably hoped, that the mole position. Would have adhered her to them and their plan.
The sub-leader of the secret group, who lied to her. About what and who actually led to her dismissal. And then subsequently and systematically recruited her. Had been extremely busy ever since. Now in retaliation, he had promptly initiated the idea of her being the next body of use and abuse. After two decades of allowing her to think, that she was freely paying her dues and could walk any time she so desired. She was now eventually trapped and bound in the present. A physical manifestation, of what and how the real situation had always been. She had gone from being appalled at the audacity of operation, invasion and defraudment. To being intimidated by their leach-like manipulation. And then eventually, develop a numbness for the whole charade.
They had their plan and program, long before she was lured and beguiled into it. And they were sure as ‘faulty-flames’ going to carry it out. She just wished that she had not fallen so easily, for the wicked web that had been spun around her. It was too late now. And she would have to figure out an alternative mode of escape, from the suffocating cult. She had been wrong to go on this long, without informing the kind royals. But like the devious leader had once warned her, raising an alarm would be detrimental to both her and the monarchs. Though she wanted to come clean and blow the whistle. She might not be the only evil envoy, currently on assignment. Thus the attempt, was not likely to make a dent of a difference.
The boiling substance wheezed loudly, spitting hot vapor into the air. Juja looked at the lines on her arms again. She had drawn them, to give her an idea while in captivity. The amount of days left till the baby princess’ showing. She had erased about three or four of those lines. And was finding it difficult, to figure out how much time had lapsed. There was no way for her to tell, how many days were left. Or if it was already past. She was confused, like she had feared she would be. But now that she was awake, there might still be something to salvage. Before they came to collect her or what she was made to become.
She struggled to sit upright, but could not feel or move her feet. When she looked at them, she realized with disgust and despair. That they were already being altered. The change was rapidly spreading up towards her knees. Now startlingly wide awake, the lightheadedness slowly dissipating. She began to repeat some peaceful and meditative verses, that she had learned at the organization. They could have her body, but she would fight to retain her mind and identity. As the words rolled desperately out her tongue. The mutation approached her chest. She looked down in utter horror, at the lower part of her body. Or what she knew was once her body. She was fast becoming a snake.
A shot and a hole of opportunity:
Bronid was stunned, at how easily people leaned over and above. A dying or lifeless body, to gawk and speculate. It was not in his nature to be rude, brash or rough. But this crowd left him little or no choice, but to shove them aside howbeit gently. When he got to the body, he knelt beside it and its pool of blood. The gunshot wound was at the fellow’s back. So he did not need to, nor bother to turn the body over. He reached for the right hand, that was half way tucked under the still body. Feeling for any sign of a pulse whatsoever, he began to shout out orders.
“Someone get me two pieces of cloth, a bowl of water and a of string rope!” Shouted the healer, above the din of noise and excited chatter. There was sudden shuffling, as it appeared that some people were endeavoring to comply with the healer’s demands. They were moving to produce what they could. Bronid worked efficiently, to tear off the top tailored coat of the victim still lying on his face. The healer had detected a slight but irregular pulse. Therefore, he was racing against time itself to make the most of that ticker.
“Is he alive?” Came a deeply gruff and unimpressed voice. Right above the healer’s head.
“Barely,” answered Bronid without looking up. Someone had provided the bowl and cloths. And he was cleaning the surface of the wound. He wanted to see the depth of the damage, that he was looking at.
“But if we move quick enough,” the healer supplied still without looking up. “He just might make it.” He finished speaking, as he examined the wound. “He just might live." The voice that had just spoken to Bronid, turned to inform someone else behind him.
Most of the horde had cleared out at this time. It was no longer an intriguing situation, for them to behold. Since someone else had assumed responsibility for it, they moved on. After all, this was the beginning of an anticipated Fair season and a couple of festive days.
“Did we really need all this distraction and delay? And before you know it now, the law will be here.” A second voice asked and commented. It seemed the person had just gotten closer to the body.
“I guess it comes with the territory. Being a jeweler, must mean walking about with a target at your back.” Concluded the first man with dripping sarcasm.
Being the jeweler? Thought Bronid to himself, as he tended to the wound. Was this the jeweler or just any jeweler? There was only one way to find out.
“Excuse me, do you know the victim?” Asked the healer, finally looking up at the man standing over him. “Not personally,” began the man with a quick and impatient shrug. “He was supposed to have a superb piece of gem for sale. That is why we are all here in the first place.”
“A piece of gem for sale?” Bronid ventured further, reaching as he did to his side. He instantly remembered, to feel for his small satchel. Everything seemed to be in place, he noted to himself satisfactorily.
“Yes, a piece of jewel or jewels. I have two very wealthy merchants here, who have travelled quite a distance. They paid quite a lot to come and will pay even more, to acquire a certain magnificent piece of gem.” He finished flatly, looked down at the body and then scratched his head restlessly.
“Can I talk to you, privately?” Bronid began again, this time tentatively.
“Listen,” began the gruffly speaking man. “I think it noble of you, to help this dying or dead man. A very commendable deed, I must add. We need more men like you in society, that’s for sure. Ultimately, that is not my concern. Since I did not come here to discuss bullets and wounds.” He finished, nodded patronizingly at the healer and began to walk away.
“Who says I was planning to talk about bullets and wounds?” Countered Bronid sharply, as began to stand up from his initial stooping position. He had quickly rinsed his hands in the bowl of remaining water. The victim's bleeding hole, was now securely covered with a piece of cloth. That was tied up and held in place by the string rope. The healer wanted first and foremost to stop the blood flow. Then they would have to move the body to the infirmary. He nearly smiled, when the departing man stopped abruptly in his tracks. Then slowly turned back and towards the healer.
.