Soul-Dancer (Page 4)
four of them rushed to Headquarters. It was a riot. It looked as if all of Agency N were there as well as all of Agency A. They wanted their Firesoul back. Zak and Myra exchanged exasperated glances as they began the tedious job of cleaning up. The battle ended within a matter of seconds. Myra sounded disappointed. “I expected a Code Red would be more exciting.”
They hadn’t received a mission in days. They were bored. The silence resonated off the walls of the house. Myra decided to go down to the river for a swim, whilst the others lay about reading on the couch. She didn’t get very far. Men flew at her. Myra collapsed, one last thought in her head as it hit the ground. Assault. Someone grumbled, “Great. Now we have to carry her.” Then the world went black.
Myra woke in a strange, white room, without furniture, save for the bed. A man was leaning against the wall. “Finally. You’re awake.” As the man moved closer, she saw he had grey hair that nearly matched his strange grey eyes. Everything about him looked grey– even his skin. Myra had a sinking suspicion that this man was – “The Director of Agency N. That’s me.” Myra cursed under her breath. She refused to believe that this man had read her mind. Her head pounded to an invisible beat, and there was a foul taste in her mouth, not unlike that of sour milk, making her want to retch. She spat at his feet, partly from disgust, partly trying to get the taste of sour milk out of her mouth. “Guess you don‘t like me much, eh?” he said coyly. It wasn’t much of a question; he wasn’t a particularly likeable man. She didn’t answer. In her mind, she was looking for a way out. She knew what he wanted. Since the Firesoul switched sides, Agency N wanted the Watersoul. “I’d rather die than work for you.” He raised an eyebrow, but took the hint and left. He muttered something as he walked out the door.