The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) (22 page)

The path the marked ones followed
grew increasingly steep, requiring effort, especially considering the weight of
their packs. Tip enjoyed the hike, leading the others with a lively spring in
his step, to which Azetan muttered frequent curses. Prizene struggled with her pack
and the steep incline; not long after departing the old men’s company, Tip took
her pack with a smile, weathering Azetan’s glare, and now carried it along with
his own.

After traveling for a while, the
rock face to their left grew ever steeper and more daunting. The sun reflected
off the rock, making navigation of the path more difficult. As they rounded the
next turn, Tip stopped and said quietly, “This might be the opening.”

The others drew close to him and
peered into the fissure in the rock face. The opening wasn’t wide enough for
one of them to enter while carrying a pack.

Kenrya ran her hand along the rock.
“Nothing seems unusual.”

Tip shed his and Prizene’s packs,
as did the others, and prepared to carry them through to the other side. Tip
led the group slowly, carrying his own pack in one hand in front of him and
Prizene’s in the other behind him. After a few minutes, he lost his grip on
Prizene’s pack, which Azetan caught.

“I’ll take Prizene’s pack,” Azetan
offered. “Since you’re leading the way, you need to keep your eyes on the
path.”

Tip nodded. While his endurance could
withstand a twenty-mile run, the strength in his arms was not sufficient to
carry two heavy loads in such cramped quarters. As he worked his way through
the narrow opening, he reflected once again how lucky he was Prizene had found
him and he had joined this group. Like most Liputs, his fighting abilities were
limited and his experiences outside Kentish were few, but he hoped the others
recognized his willingness to help in whatever way he could. He really belonged
here and wanted desperately to continue contributing to their journey. Granted,
Kenrya scared him a little, but on the whole, he found the others to be quite
pleasant. He worried about his parents, though, his mother in particular. Would
the old men send word to their families that they were safe? He shifted small
rocks out of the path with his foot. He hoped he would soon hear news about his
brother, Sri. Had he managed to survive and join the warriors? Tip dared not
ask the old men, after the disapproval he received with his first eager
questions. His only hope of news now rested with the training camp.

The opening became harder to
navigate as the sun sank lower in the sky. Much of the light was blocked, yet
just enough filtered down that the marked ones were able to make it through to the
other side of the rock. Once that was accomplished, the others debated the next
course of action.

“We should continue until the light
grows faint,” Kenrya suggested. “The Graeliths will have crossed the wetlands
by now. We can’t waste any daylight we have left.”

Prizene agreed, but added, “I’m
finding it very difficult to see. I’m not used to walking in the dim light.”

“Eros, what do you think?” Azetan
asked.

“I’ve spent many a night walking in
the forest of Kullac, and I suspect that as a child of Banston and one of
Kentish, you’re also accustomed to darkness. I agree with Kenrya, we must keep
moving until the darkness is absolute.” He turned to Prizene. “Stay close to us
and we’ll help you.”

Prizene looked hesitant, but Azetan
offered his arm as they continued. Their progress slowed in the diminishing
light. After their eyes adjusted, Tip was able to keep them moving at a
reasonable pace and even Prizene seemed to find it easier to avoid the gnarled
roots and rocks that littered the ground. They walked for several more hours
before they realized they were traveling by moonlight and the sun had long ago
set.

“We should find somewhere to rest
for the night,” Azetan suggested. “We can travel faster in the morning.”

Tip agreed, as did the others. He
spied a small cave about ten feet off the ground. After pulling an electric
torch from his bag and tucking it in the back of his pants, he climbed a large
tree just to the right of the cave. Tip passed the electric torch over the
mouth of the cave, noting a flat, clean surface inside, large enough to
accommodate the group. He signaled the others and they climbed the tree, using
a wide branch to step into the cave. Once settled inside, they unloaded their
packs for the night. Tip built a small fire toward the back of the cave and
prepared food. Being the youngest of three brothers, he was often conscripted
to help his mother in the kitchen and, much to the delight of the others,
proved to be an adequate cook.

While Tip prepared the meal, Azetan
kept watch at the mouth of the cave and the others unloaded the packs to assess
the contents added by the old men. Kenrya took a full inventory of their
supplies while Eros and Prizene watched. She found sufficient food for the rest
of the journey, including linoya for Spike, as well as a reasonable quantity of
water. They still had almost the full length of rope, thanks to Tip, and
several electric torches, blankets, hunting knives, and a few cooking
implements provided by the undergrounders. She separated the medical supplies,
noting they carried both oil and bandages from the Bruner medic who had treated
Tip, as well as several rarer ointments provided by the old men for treating
various infections and skin conditions. Kenrya still carried her pulsar, Tip
maintained close guard on his laser gun, and Eros had his trusty set of bolas. She
counted five swords between them (Azetan carried two), and two long daggers in
one of the bags — presumably for Tip once he learned to use them. She dug a
pack of klen scales out of Tip’s bag, which made Prizene squeal in delight. Tip
quickly squelched her enthusiasm by refusing her any of them. Finally, Kenrya
found a flute, a mystical pendant, a spade, and a horn.

The spade was for digging linoya,
she supposed. Presumably the flute was to control creatures like the quasm,
though certainly one of them would need to practice. Then they turned to the
pendant and the horn.

Prizene picked up the pendant and
traced her finger across both sides of it. “I’ve not seen such a beautiful
pendant before. The detail is stunning. This side shows a picture of a winged
creature that looks a bit like the mark, and the other side shows a little
troll-like creature. I wonder why they gave us this?”

When Kenrya held out her hand,
Prizene passed the pendant to her. Kenrya studied it as well. “This is unlike
the pendants in the grand market … much heavier with an elaborate design. I
agree the winged creature resembles the mark.” Holding it near the fire, she
added, “I think it even has a reddish hue. Eros, you mentioned spending a lot
of time in the marketplace. What do you think?”

She passed the pendant to Eros. As
his fingers brushed the edge of the pendant, a light flashed and the pendant
fell to the floor of the cave.

“Did you see that?” Prizene asked
excitedly.

“It was a light,” Kenrya replied
cautiously. She picked up the pendant, which remained dull and dark. Why would
it react to Eros’s touch like that? She raised her eyes to Eros with a
searching look.

Eros shrugged. He held out his
hand, palm up this time, for Kenrya to pass the pendant to him more carefully. She
leaned toward him and placed the pendant flat in his palm. At first, nothing
happened. Then the pendant started glowing dimly, as though heated from the
inside out. Gradually the light amplified, until the pendant glowed brightly in
Eros’s palm. Kenrya watched in fascination as the designs on the pendant
actually appeared to be moving. Eros’s breathing quickened as he continued to
stare at the glowing trinket. Kenrya was about to take it from him, but he
tightened his hand around it and closed his eyes. Confusion and concern danced
across his face. He opened his hand and dropped the pendant onto the floor, his
breathing erratic, his brow covered in sweat.

They stared at the pendant for a
few moments as its light dimmed.

“What happened?” Prizene asked.

Eros wiped his brow, “I don’t know.
I could feel ... something. Like … a raging battle between hope and despair. I
could almost see something, but not clearly.” He rubbed his hands across his
face and through his hair.

He seemed to be holding something
back. Kenrya reached out and picked up the pendant, holding it flat in her
palm. Nothing happened. She looked at Eros, who only shrugged. Kenrya said,
“I’ll wear this for now, until we understand what it is.” She was concerned
about allowing Eros to carry it, given its uncanny effect on him. She attached
a thin rope to the pendant and tied it around her neck.

Then she picked up the horn. It was
about twelve inches long, less than an inch in diameter at one end and about
three inches in diameter at the other. It was made of a natural substance,
perhaps the bone of an animal, and was off-white in color. There was a slight
curve from one end to the other. Like the pendant, the horn displayed an
elaborate design. She analyzed the details by the firelight.

“What is it?” Prizene looked over
her shoulder.

“I’m not certain. The landscape is
barren, except for these massive mountains here. Look, there are dwellings of
some sort in the mountains.” She turned it over. “This is interesting, too. It
looks like a shrine or holy place. That’s some sort of altar, I think.”

“Interesting. I wonder why the old
men gave it to us.”

“They must have thought it will be
useful. I doubt they would have parted with it otherwise.” She found a cloth
and wrapped the horn to protect it.

The bags were repacked to ensure
they were ready for the next day. Most of the items were divided evenly among
the packs, with some exceptions: Prizene carried the linoya and the spade; Tip
the daggers, klen scales, and the flute, since he claimed to have some musical
talent and had studied Chimsey’s playing during the quasm attack on Prizene
earlier that day; Kenrya the medical supplies and the pendant; Azetan the horn;
and Eros the rope.

Prizene pulled Spike from her
pocket and fed him a piece of linoya root. Kenrya examined his back leg,
pleased to find the wound had almost healed. By the next day, she declared,
Spike should have full use of his leg. He stretched gingerly and curled up in
Prizene’s lap.

After their meal, the others
settled in for the night. Eros walked to the mouth of the cave and rested on
the ledge with his back to the rock wall. Dark images plagued his thoughts. What
was it about that pendant? He feared sleep would not be easy. The Graeliths felt
close, closer than they had hoped. Maybe he should have shared that with the
others, but he didn’t understand the pendant or the feelings it created.

After a while, Kenrya joined him. She
sat next to him and rested her back against the rock. “You held something back,
something about the pendant.”

Eros stared into the darkness, then
glanced at Kenrya. He took a deep breath. “They’re coming for us. I felt them.”

“We both know this, Eros. We have
from the start.”

“No, this was different.” He drew
his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. “I could feel their hatred,
their anger. They blame us.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. I just felt it.”

“Why do you suppose the pendant
reacted to you and not the rest of us?”

Eros shook his head and shrugged. “I
don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the Thelios.”

“The Thelios?”

“There was a Thelios man named
Jbetl that frequented our village. My mother was always pleased to see him and
he spent many hours training me, teaching me, telling me stories. I never knew my
father and Jbetl was as close as I came to having one. From what Arith told me,
Theliosse have unusual abilities. My mother never told me this, nor did Jbetl,
which is strange. They both taught me to notice little things about species,
their habits, their abilities. They explained these things to me and helped me
understand why each species was unique, their strengths, their weaknesses.”

“I heard you tell some of this to
Arith, but not the part about the Thelios. They were training you for this
future.”

“Yes.” Eros nodded. “My grandfather
was a fierce warrior, well respected. My mother believed I would be marked. They
ensured I was ready.”

Kenrya watched Eros closely for a
moment, then asked the question he had dared not answered. “So, you believe
this Thelios was your father?”

Eros laid his head back against the
rock and closed his eyes. “If he was my father, why keep it a secret from me? Why
would he live elsewhere?”

“Eros, many fear the Theliosse. If
he was your father, perhaps they thought it wise not to have others link him to
you. I never knew any Theliosse and most have disappeared, but I understand
they were quite kind-hearted. Unfortunately, they were frequently ridiculed by
other species for their less-than-desirable appearance. You don’t resemble a Thelios
at all, though.”

“Arith seemed to know about
genetics. He said Thelios genes were recessive to most species. I might not
look like Jbetl even if he were my father.”

“Interesting,” Kenrya replied. “Arith
studied genetics with a well-educated mentor. I guess he would know.”

“Did he ever have an opinion on
your strong medical skills?” At Kenrya’s confused reaction, Eros explained,
“You have a real talent for healing others. A strong skill in certain species,
though I don’t believe it’s a trait common among the Arlians.”

“Well,” she said with some
hesitation, “I don’t believe it’s genetic, Eros. I saw a Gaela persecuted one
time, and afterwards, I volunteered to assist any medic treating an
undergrounder or anyone else we helped. If I had known what to do, I might have
saved the Gaela’s life. I don’t want to feel that helplessness again.”