Chapter Six: Playing the Wild Card

Vezon paced in his cell on Daxia. Across the corridor were two great water tanks. In one swam the six Piraka, now mutated into water snakes. In the other was a bizarre-looking being others referred to as Karzahni, who seemed to Vezon to be quite insane. And Vezon knew insane.

When Brutaka’s team had first escaped the island of Artidax with Makuta Miserix, they had flown to a barren island in the middle of nowhere. After a short time, Brutaka had them on the move again, this time to a place called Daxia. Brutaka explained that the location of the island had always been a secret before, but that secrecy didn’t matter anymore. Neither, apparently, did gratitude, as Vezon and Roodaka were both thrown into cells immediately upon arrival.

Vezon, frankly, was disappointed. Sure, he had tried to steal the Mask of Life, and yes, he had tried to kill the Toa Inika once… well, twice. And okay, he had made an effort to trade their lives to the Zyglak in exchange for his, but it’s not like that had worked. And he had volunteered… well, been forced… well, actually been threatened with bodily harm if he didn’t help, but he did aid in the rescue of Makuta Miserix. And what was his reward? A cold cell, an uncaring guard, and nothing nearby he could use to kill the Piraka. Was that justice?

His musings were interrupted by the crimson armor of Trinuma. The Order member took a long look at Vezon, shrugged, and shook his head. Then he unlocked the cell door and threw it open. “It’s your lucky day, misfit,” said Trinuma. “You’re getting out.”

“I am?” said Vezon. “I mean, of course I am. Keeping a being of my brilliance locked away is a terrible waste of resources. No doubt your masters want to consult me on matters of strategy and tactics.”

“No,” said Trinuma. “I think they said something about needing someone who could die horribly without being missed. So, naturally, they thought of you.”

Vezon’s addled brain processed what Trinuma said, and somehow decided it was a compliment. “Well, naturally,” he replied. “Lead on, and let me show you all how dying’s done.”

✴        ✴        ✴

Vezon sat in a small skiff with a jet black sail. Trinuma sat at the bow, keeping an eye out for potential threats. If he considered Vezon one, he didn’t show it. For his part, Vezon was just happy to just be out of his cell. Prison was far too… confining, but then he guessed that was the point of it. Speaking of points, Trinuma had given him a lovely dagger. Vezon had said “thank you” by not trying to plunge it into his companion’s back.

“Where are we going?” asked Vezon, “Why are we going? Are we going at all, or just sailing in a big circle? Or is it a spiral? I went down a spiral once: a big stone tunnel that went down and down and down, and ended in Zyglak. Whoever built it had no decorating sense at all.”

“Would you be quiet?” said Trinuma, “This is a secret mission. Do you understand that?”

“Sure,” answered Vezon, “Secret mission means if you get killed, I won’t tell anyone. And you still haven’t answered any of my one hundred ten questions, or my follow-ups.”

Trinuma sighed in resignation. “We’re going to a place called Destral. Once we get there, your job starts. If you succeed, you live to babble another day. If you fail, you die horribly. Okay?”

“Destral… Destral… Wait a minute, that’s a Makuta base! Spiriah was a Makuta — at least he was until Miserix killed him. I flew with Miserix, did I tell you that? At least until he did those loops and threw me off his back. Ocean water is really cold, don’t let anyone tell you different. So what am I supposed to do on Destral? Theft? Assassination? Running with sharp objects?”

“You have the most important job of all,” said Trinuma, “You’re going to betray the Order of Mata Nui and the entire universe, and this is how you’re going to do it.”