Cafe

Vernon, looked up at the child sitting across the table from him.  She was still staring at the ground, a passive, stone expression on her face.  She looked traumatized, and she had every right to be, but he couldn't help her until he got some kind of information about what happened.

"So, Jordan,"  he started.  "Do you remember anything that happened before I found you?"  She shrugged.  That was all he got; nothing or a shrug.  It's been like this for three days.  "Do you remember how you got those scars on your arms?"  Another shrug.  She needed a hospital, and a team of specialists.  She needed a lot more than one person and a quiet cafe setting.  But they couldn't risk her being found again.

"Do you remember who helped you out of the handcuffs?  That dog that hadn't been there when you and the others were loaded up for transport?"  She dropped her head on the table, her hair flopping in a halo around her.  It was a step up from crying.  A small step, but a step nonetheless.  "Could I talk to it?"

"Him."  She said, her voice muffled.  "He really hates being called 'it'."  Vernon was happy enough to jump and click his heels.  He hadn't heard words come out of her mouth since last week.

"I'm sorry.  Do you think he's available?"  She didn't respond for a second.  He was worried he'd lost her again when she raised her left hand.  A tattoo of black miasma clung to her wrist, and it flowed into her hand at the click of her fingers.  She dropped it, and it started coiling when it hit the ground.  It warped and twisted, morphing until the vague outline of a dogs could be seen.  Paws formed, then a tail, and the miasma worked its way up until a canine head perched upon shaggy furred shoulders was in front of him.  Vernon look around, thankful that no new customers had entered the cafe, and the lone employee that had refused them service didn't deem them important enough to stick around.

"Answer whatever he asks, Orion."  She told the dog.

"Um... hello, there."  Vernon said.  The dog, Orion, stared back at him, his yellow irises glowing softly.  "Can you understand me?"

"Yes."  The answer came in an echoed voice that seemed to surround him.  The dog's mouth didn't move, but there was a noticeable pulse to it, like rippling water, whenever it spoke.  "Is that all you wish to ask?"

Vernon fumbled with his notes.  "Um, no.  I have a few other questions."  He found a picture buried in the pile of papers, showing an Armored Personnel Carrier with a gaping hole in the side.  It was the same APC she'd broken out of.  "How did you two escape?"

"She summoned me and we ran."  Descriptive, he thought, rolling his eyes.

"You make it sound easy;  why didn't you escape earlier?"

"They kept her asleep for most of the time she was there, and kept her from concentrating when she was awake.  She had to wear a shock collar that zapped her every thirty seconds when she wasn't put under.  The transfer was the only opportunity she had."  Vernon nodded, scribbling down what the dog was saying.

"You all this like you saw it."  Orion didn't speak.  Of course he didn't, his order was to answer any questions he was asked.  "Well?  Did you?"

"Yes."  Vernon could see he'd have to work for this information.

"You said the first time she summoned you was when she was being transferred, so how could you have seen anything before that?"

"I see everything she sees.  One of the perks of being bound to a person and not an object."  Most summoners bound their constructs to objects they carried with them.  Some preferred a closer connection, but Vernon had never known the extent of that connection.  

"What happened to her while she was there?"  He asked next.

"She was asleep for most of it, so I didn't see much.  She was kept restrained to a table, for the most part.  All I really remember are fever dreams the drugs probably induced."  Orion's tail started twitching.  A construct displaying emotion was strange enough, but even stranger, Vernon could swear this emotion was anxiety.  The girl sat up now, her gaze resting softly on Orion.

"She told you to answer all my questions, right?"

"Yes."

"But she never said to answer them truthfully.  Did you just lie to me?"  Orion started blinking, and his ears flicked.  Jordan spoke up for the first time.

"You don't have to answer that."  Orion looked relieved, his shoulders slumping.  He leaned back, against Jordan's chair, but if she noticed, she didn't say anything.  "He's just a construct; he doesn't know how to lie."  Something flashed across Orion's face.  For just a second, his eyes softened, and his ears flattened against his head.  

"I'm going to say something, and your first instinct will probably be to run, but I just want you to remember that you're still the most sought-after bounty in the country."  Vernon took a breath.  "There exists a Jadeon in the slums of this city that created a sentient construct.  It wasn't bound by any traditional means, and merged completely with its summoner.  We've been tracking it's summoner up until a few month ago, when she went missing, about the same time you were captured."  Orion started growling.  Jordan put her hand on his head, and he stopped.  Vernon pulled something out of his pocket and put it on the table.  Jordan snatched it up when she saw it.

"Where'd you get this?"  She asked, holding it close to her.

"Your house.  Nathaniel let me in."  The name hit her like a brick wall.  Her eyes widened and teared up.

"He's alive?"  Orion seemed to voice the question Jordan was struggling to ask.  Vernon nodded, getting up from his chair.

"Alive, well, and eager to see you both again."  He walked to the door, holding it open.  "In fact, he's waiting at the base for us right now."