At sunset, the boys huddled in the hedges of the garden at the orphanage.
"What's the meaning of the marks?" asked Dov.
Ruslan snapped, "Hush! Someone's afoot!"
They peeked above the thicket at the solemn man, woman, and child carrying lanterns into a grove, piquing their curiosity. The trio ducked into the undergrowth and stealthily headed toward the ceremonial procession, spying the family arranging ornaments on a copse acting as an altar.
"Kind of like pilgrims on a pilgrimage. Strange," mused Kyle, as they returned to their collaboration in the thicket.
"Not as strange as those marks. What are they?" Dov resumed his course.
"The same imprints inflicted on my dad."
Dov stuttered, "Are you s-saying…?" He couldn't continue.
"Thor was taken and tortured." The control in Ruslan's candor masked an emotion under wraps.
"Tortured?" Kyle started panting.
Ruslan grabbed his shoulders, "Kyle, stay with us."
"I can't breathe –"
"You can. You hear me? Slow down. Do it for Thor. Uphold your pledge," commanded Ruslan.
As he struggled for the reins of his condition, Kyle's breath pirouetted to pacific. "Tortured by whom?"
"The authorities. I saw those rings on my dad's skin the night my family was arrested."
"You mumbled, Baptism of fire. What's that?"
"My dad's reference to the rings, his first exposure to regime fire."
"You said you didn't remember that night," challenged Dov.
"I didn't, until I spied them on Thor." He paused, swallowing hard. "My sighting brought total recall."
"Why were they arrested?" questioned Kyle.
"They were – unusual."
"Oh." Kyle ventured no further.
"This is different," Dov theorized. "You never saw your family again after that night. Thor didn't disappear. He's in the hospital. How do you figure that?"
"My dad was kidnapped prior to my family's abduction. Under duress, he professed his capabilities plus my mother's and brother's. They released him after promising to keep us together because he had cooperated. When he came home that night, he didn't want to talk about it. My mom insisted we had a right to know what befell him. Showing the brands on his neck, ankles, and wrists, he divulged the torture and their promise – but they lied, coming that very night to bag all but me. My guess is Thor didn't confess, so they tormented him until –"
They jumped at the rustling. More lanterns punctured the nigritude. Cocooned in their marathon mission, Kyle wondered, "How will this information help Thor?"
"It won't," stated Ruslan. "That's why I told you in confidence. This doesn't go beyond us."
Dov was dubious. "We swore to Theogen. Maybe he can do something."
"Do what, Dov? Thor was tortured by authorities, and Theogen's authority. Telling him could get us in a heap of trouble for nothing."
Dov seethed, "Coward! So we're going to watch him die and do nothing?"
"How dare you!"
Joining the front line, Kyle claimed hotly, "You admitted you're scared of getting into trouble. Do you deny it?"
"I'm no coward, but hailing trouble for naught will stamp me a cretin for sure. You buffoons don't get it. Thor's reduced to a coma to harvest him compliant, and Theogen's establishment. Don't be bamboozled by his dog and pony show. He probably knows already. If we spill the beans, we'll wind up detained, and Thor's sacrifice for us will have been in vain. He resisted. He didn't implicate us. He kept his word. Did you consider that?"
Kyle persevered, "Hoodwinkers are human, but death is not a con artist. We should report our findings irrespective of the consequences."
"We'll sleep on it," Ruslan countered, ending the nocturnal conclave.
* * *
"Russ!"
Ruslan woke in a sweat. Moonlight swept the sleeping dorm. He went to the bathroom.
"Russ!"
The second hiss was louder than the first.
"Stop it," Ruslan grumbled.
"Russ!"
"Please go away," he pleaded.
"Russ!"
"You'll wake everyone up."
"Russ!"
He hurriedly dressed and ran into the garden.
"Russ!"
"Quit following me." A churlish wind rapped his sullen face and knocked the silhouetted trees.
"Russ!"
"What do you want?" he cried.
"Russ!"
He sobbed, "You halt your hissing, and I'll come in the morning. That's the deal."
The coarse wind calmed; the abrasive hisses ceased. Ruslan curled up in the grass and slumbered until daybreak, pored over by crowing ravens.
* * *
Searching for Ruslan in the morning, Dov and Kyle caught him leaving the Institute.
"We've been looking for you," chided Kyle.
Dov pounced, "Where are you going?"
Ruslan brushed by them.
"To the Museum."
Dov bristled in outrage, "You're avoiding us."
Kyle summarized with wrath, "Escaping."
"I'm not. Something urgent cropped up."
Indignant Dov chastised, "What's more urgent than Thor?"
"I can't explain."
"You'd better, 'cause Kyle and I aren't suckered by your stalling. In case you can't count, we're a majority, two against one, and we're reporting the stigmata to Theogen with or without you. We slept on it as agreed, and this is our decision. We don't need to stick around for your kingly edict. So you go to the Museum, and we'll go to Theogen."
They started to leave.
"Hisstory woke me during the night."
"That's preposterous," rebutted Dov.
"Who's Hisstory?" asked Kyle.
"Thor's pet snake." Ruslan spotted the rampant disbelief splayed on their features. "Why explain what's preposterous?"
"Try us," begrudged Dov, spooling his ire.
"She hissed my name in the dorm, hounding me into the garden. The hissing halted when I promised to see her."
Dov spouted, "You only believe what you see and touch. You've claimed that dogma numerous times. How does this clear your pedantic principles?"
"It doesn't. Where are you going with this?"
"Does it change your agnostic stance on faith?"
"Am I now under the gun?"
"You didn't answer the question."
"I'm not required to answer to you for my credo."
"I'm glad that's official," intervened Kyle, his crash course resolved as a cease-fire arbiter. "Looks like I'm meeting Hisstory."