Chapter Fifteen: On Destral's Doorstep

Vezon landed hard on the stone floor of the Makuta Fortress of Destral. He had been captured by Rahkshi less than two minutes after Trinuma had dropped him off on the shore of the island. Vezon had never met a Rahkshi before and found he disliked them. Most beings had a scent, either pleasant or unpleasant; Rahkshi smelled of cold metal and death.

The Makuta who came to greet him wore armor of purple and crimson. Although Vezon was polite enough to introduce himself, the Makuta did not bother to share his name. Vezon was tempted to complain about this, but the spear at his throat, the one dripping acid, convinced him to save it for another time.

“Who are you?” said the Makuta. “What are you? And how came you here?”

“My name is Vezon, your darkness, and I was brought here by an agent of a power that wishes you and your Brotherhood harm. They wanted me to come and tell you that they exist and plan to attack this island, but I’m not gonna do that, no no no!”

“You just did,” said the Makuta. Behind Vezon, three Rahkshi moved a little closer, staffs at the ready.

“Well, of course I did, but only to tell you that I won’t!” said Vezon, exasperated. How could this being hope to conquer the universe and yet be so slow? “It’s all a trick, you see. They want me to pretend to betray them. They want you to concentrate your forces here against an attack that won’t come. But I decided, why pretend to betray them when actually doing it would be so much more fun?”

The Makuta grabbed Vezon by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

“Speak, fool! And let only truth and clarity come from your mouth if you wish to continue having one.”

“Truth and clarity… truth and clarity… I don’t think I know them,” answered Vezon. “Will you settle for ‘white-lipped and trembling’? This Order of Mata Nui, it plans to mass an army and a navy, threaten Destral, force you to teleport it away from where it is now, and then…”

When Vezon did not continue speaking right away, the Makuta tightened his grip.

“Alright, alright! I was only pausing for effect. They have a spy inside this fortress. They’ve sabotaged your means of teleportation. When you try to use it again… well, I wouldn’t start reading any long tablets, let’s put it that way. And now that you know, tell me — what are we going to do about it?”

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Vezon, it could truly be said, had a unique perspective on life. Perhaps it was the fact that he had only been truly alive for a matter of weeks. Perhaps it was his time spent wearing the Mask of Life. Or perhaps it was just the fact that he was hopelessly insane. But the perspective he had today, he had to admit, was a new one: upside-down.

The Makuta he had encountered in the fortress of Destral, who identified himself with a laugh as Tridax, had not entirely believed Vezon’s story about cross and double-cross. In fact, he decided some follow-up questions were in order, the kind delivered while your guest is hanging from the ceiling by his ankles.

“I have checked our teleportation technology,” Tridax said. “There is no sign of sabotage. You are a liar.”

“Well, no one ever said Makuta were observant,” said Vezon. “How can you be so sure? Suppose I sabotaged it myself using my incredible powers of the mind.”

“You have no powers,” said the Makuta, picking up a wickedly sharp blade. “You have no mind. You are about to have no head.”

“You’re right! You’re right!” babbled Vezon. “There is no army, there is no navy, I simply wanted the pleasure of your company. Well, pleasure might be too strong a word. Did I tell you I once wore the Mask of Life? One stray thought back then, and you wouldn’t even have left ashes. I do miss those days. Anyway, take pride in being correct. There’s no threat to Destral at all.”

The walls of the fortress suddenly shook violently from an incredible impact.

“Except that one.” Vezon added helpfully.

Rock dust fell from the ceiling, masks and weapons clattered to the floor, and even the anchors of Vezon’s chains came loose. A second blast tore a hole in the wall and sent mangled Rahkshi flying into the chamber. This time, the anchors came loose all the way, and Vezon fell to the stone floor.

Makuta Tridax was paying no attention. His orders were clear: maintain Destral in its current location unless attacked. In the event of a serious threat from Toa or Dark Hunters, teleport the island off the shores of Metru Nui and seize that city. He stalked off to carry out those commands. Vezon followed behind, unnoticed.

That’s right, thought the deranged ex-prisoner. Lead me to your secrets. Ah, this plan is so cunning it might almost be one of mine. And perhaps it will be before I’m done.