Anne Winchell - The Last War

Nalia wandered through the kitchen like a ghost. She knew her father was worried about her. He had tried talking to her several times but she could never seem to focus on what he was saying. Raven had been gone for two days. Once the shock of witnessing such a gruesome scene passed, Nalia had begun to feel deeply afraid for Raven. If he hadn’t caused the blood in the room, then the blood had to be his. He was injured somewhere and she was responsible for him. It wasn’t just because Raven had been captured while in Nalia’s employment, she knew, nor was it simply because Nalia had been foolish enough to listen to Raven and stand by while he was taken. She was responsible because her first thought when she saw the blood was that Raven had killed someone and she had hated him.

Klaus glanced at her as she walked past the stove and said something. She ignored him and continued into the main room on the first floor. Immediately she was surrounded by people, her friends and allies, but it was different now. She was different and she knew they could sense it because they left a space around her as she walked.

Guilt over her false assumption made her lose her appetite and Nalia barely spoke to anyone. She had condemned Raven, thought of him as the vilest person alive, when really he had been trying to save his life and protect her from harm. He had been trying to help but circumstances beyond his control forced him into a violent situation. Nalia began wondering about the Graveyard Massacre, if perhaps Raven wasn’t responsible for the deaths but had tried to help rescue survivors. Raven had witnessed so much death in his life, how could he remain sane? She longed to find him and hold him and apologize and swear to never judge him again, but he was gone.

Nalia stared at the monitor in the main room that had everything they knew about Raven’s disappearance. Five people were working on locating him. They had no leads. Nothing appeared in the papers, no police reports, no indication that anything had happened at all. Klaus urged Nalia to keep her focus on the resistance and not get sidetracked finding Raven, but how could she possibly think about fighting the government when Raven was in trouble? Klaus didn’t understand, or didn’t want to, she knew. He would never forgive Raven for Taurena’s death, and now Klaus was blaming Raven for Nalia’s depression as well.

One of Nalia’s friends spoke to her and she tried to respond normally but the words wouldn’t come. She thought about her own march just weeks ago when she had faced Medane and the United Eastern World. If the police had been carrying real guns instead of stunguns, who knew how many would have been killed? Hundreds, probably, and Nalia would have been responsible. One mistake, one miscalculation, and innocent people died. Nalia thought she understood why Raven had left the slums after the massacre. He had done everything in his power to fight for freedom and equality and he had seen his friends murdered around him. Nalia couldn’t imagine the horror of seeing an actual body. The blood on the floor upstairs was enough and sometimes she still felt the sticky sensation as she had crawled from under the bed, unaware of what she was touching.

Nalia shivered. She had to find Raven and keep him safe. No wonder he had been awake, no wonder he always looked so exhausted. She didn’t want to think about the nightmares that must haunt him. She wanted to be at his side and erase those nightmares. She wanted to hold him and tell him that she finally understood, that she didn’t blame him for anything.

Klaus watched her as she left Grader’s Inn. She glanced back and wondered if he had any idea where she was going. Nalia had come to the conclusion almost immediately that the only person capable of finding Raven was her archnemesis Medane. She had waited and hoped for two days and couldn’t wait anymore. Klaus blew her a kiss and gave a weak smile before returning to the kitchen.

He probably thought she would be back in a few hours, Nalia figured. She had started taking long walks around the neighborhood to clear her mind and look for traces of the getaway vehicle. Klaus wouldn’t even realize something was wrong until the evening, when Nalia didn’t return, and he probably wouldn’t start to really worry for a day or two. Nalia wondered if she would still be alive. Medane would kill her, she had no doubt. The question was whether he would do it before or after Raven was found. But she couldn’t be a child anymore. She needed to stand up and take responsibility for the people who followed her.

When Nalia reached the main downtown she took an elevator to the thirtieth floor and tried to blend in with the people around her. Most looked at her with disgust; her green tank top and pale denim pants stood out starkly from the various shades of gray worn by the business class. She wondered how many of them had even heard of her resistance movement. It was easy to think that everyone in the world knew about the anti-government resisters, but there were so many people. She was a single spot of color in a sea of blank suits and faces.

The government building was open, as always, and Nalia first went to the room where Raven had quit Medane’s service. It was empty. Someone must have noticed her and thought her suspicious, however, because as soon as she turned around three armed guards approached. She tried to be polite and asked if she could speak to Medane. The guards smirked and grabbed her arms, roughly escorting her into an elevator. One of the guards, a man, frisked her for weapons with a thoroughness that normally would have shamed Nalia to her core. Today, though, she held back tears and tried to think of Raven and how much he needed her strength.

The elevator opened and Nalia was shoved into a reception area. She wondered if she were going to be imprisoned or if they would actually let her see Medane. It wouldn’t be unheard of for the police to lock her up without filing charges and keep her indefinitely. Before she could worry about her fate, and Raven’s, a man stepped out of a nearby office. He was about a head taller than her, strongly muscled, with just a few gray hairs. He nodded at her as if in recognition and she realized that he must be Medane. She had only seen Medane in his díamont form and she had never really considered that he must also have a human form.

“I believe the young lady is here to see me,” Medane said, extricating Nalia from the guard’s tight grips.

He led her into the office and she was grateful to leave the lewd guards, even if she were potentially going somewhere far more dangerous. Medane locked the door and gestured for her to sit, but she was too nervous and remained standing. This was Medane. The díamont who had ended the Last War. The Eastern World’s greatest weapon. Symbol of everything she hated about the government. Standing right in front of her, politely waiting for her to speak.

She took a deep breath and thought of Raven. He needed her help, and she needed Medane. When Raven agreed to work for Nalia, he had refused to attack Medane. He had also worked for Medane for years, so there must be some relationship between them. If Medane didn’t care about Raven’s life, then coming here was a mistake and she wouldn’t live to see the sunset. Her eyes watered and her cheeks heated at the thought. She didn’t want to die, but she knew what she had to do.

“I need your help,” she said, trying to exude confidence and self-assurance. But her voice wavered and Nalia knew she was on the brink of tears. “Raven was hired by me, by the resistance, and he has been kidnapped. I need your help finding him.”

Medane crossed to his desk and sat down, tapping his fingers as if deep in thought. “You’re sure this isn’t just some attempt to distract me while Galley starts another protest?”