The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) (7 page)

Arith chuckled at Eros. “That we
are.” He spread his arm in a wide arc, encompassing all those in the great room.
“Today, we spared two young ones.” He smiled toward Prizene. “Today, we changed
the future.”

Eros turned to Prizene. “How many
were following you by the time you reached the square?”

Lutra chimed in, “Seven of the
beasts.”

“You fought seven Graeliths?” Eros
was astounded.

“Fought and defeated.” Lutra moved
near the others and told of that day’s battle in the little square. “Once the
Graeliths fled, we brought Prizene and Tip here. Should have taken them
straight to a medic.”

Arith sighed, “You wouldn’t have
found one that easily, Lutra, and any additional time above ground was risky. On
this we will never agree.” Arith left with Lutra to continue their discussion.

Prizene closed her eyes and leaned
her back against the wall. The group that had gathered around them gradually
dispersed, leaving them alone.

“For a Liput to reach the city
alone is quite an accomplishment,” Eros told her, speaking softly to not draw
attention. “For a Krystic to leave the foothills is a rare occurrence, indeed.”
He eyed her carefully. “You bear the mark?”

She spoke no words, but pushed her
fiery locks away from the skin behind her left ear to show him the mark. She
let the hair tumble back in place and turned her eyes toward Eros. He simply
nodded and leaned against the wall to rest — and think.

Four marked ones arriving in the
city at the same time. His mother had told him Lady Anyamae, the last surviving
Miyran, only marked a dozen or two each month. Why would she mark four at the
same time?

The girl raced swiftly through the
darkened street. She wore sturdy body armor, flexible yet strong. Her hair was
pulled roughly into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. She was heavily armed
and her strength and agility were obvious. She would fight well and protect
herself with confidence. She was a Plinte, after all. Eros could not see from
what she ran, but he knew. Even in the darkness, the mark burned brightly
behind her left ear. Graeliths hunted her.

She turned down an alley. It led to
a dead end and Eros tried to warn her, but she couldn’t hear him. Several
Graeliths followed her, trapping her. They spread in front of her, blocking her
escape. She unsheathed her mighty swords, one for each hand.

The Graeliths attacked
simultaneously. The fight was evenly matched in the beginning, each side
blocking blow after blow. While she handled her swords expertly, she couldn’t
withstand three Graeliths. After a period of brutal fighting with neither side
gaining advantage, one of the Graeliths hooked her left arm, jerked it upward,
and cracked her shoulder. She dropped her left sword, but sliced her right one
toward her attacker, severing his left claw. With her back to one of the
Graeliths, he grabbed her hair and forced her head back. The third Graelith
slashed her throat.

She fell back toward the wall,
blood flowing freely, and a look of despair on her face. Her eyes pleaded with
Eros for help. He reached for her, but could not catch her in time as she fell
lifeless to the ground.

Eros jerked with a start. Where was
he? He looked around as memories caught up with his surroundings. He was still
in the large underground dwelling. The others appeared to be sleeping. The
dwelling was eerily quiet, except for his labored breathing and the drip of the
leaking pipe on the far wall. He wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned his
head wearily against the wall.

The girl, the death — it was all a
dream. He had dreamed before of Graelith attacks, though they never felt this
real, this
close.
He shut his eyes and hoped such dreams would plague
him no more that night.

Eros woke in the early morning to the
sound of soft voices. After his disturbing dream, he had struggled to sleep
again and had dozed only fitfully the rest of the night. He rubbed his eyes and
stretched, then scanned the underground dwelling. Arith and Kenrya were sitting
to the side speaking quietly, away from the rest of the group. A few others
were awake, making preparations and packing bags. No other noise filtered
through the room. He glanced at Prizene and Tip, noticing Tip slept heavily on
Prizene’s shoulder. She looked exactly as she had when awake, except her eyes
were closed. Her beauty struck him again in these early hours, though he had
almost mastered the ability to push aside the overwhelming feelings.

Eros rose and walked to where Arith
and Kenrya were sitting. They failed to notice his presence and were discussing
the Miyrans. Arith seemed to be trying to convince Kenrya of something, but she
simply shook her head. Eros squatted next to her. “Morning. What were you
saying about the Miyrans?”

“It’s not your concern,” she replied
in a clipped tone.

“Kenrya,” Arith scolded. “You
should not be so difficult.”

Kenrya rolled her eyes in disgust,
stood, and stormed into one of the nearby passageways.

Arith puffed his cheeks. “She truly
has a good heart. You must not let her irritation bother you.”

“Is she always so angry?”

“Who we are and what we become are,
at least in part, driven by our past. I found Kenrya as a child wandering the
city alone, starving and scared, which of course she refused to admit.” Arith
chuckled. “I have known her for nine years. We have never discussed the life
she had before then. She guards her secrets well.” He gazed after her for a
moment, then turned back to Eros and patted him on the arm. “You should try to
rest more. You have a long journey ahead of you.”

“But the Miyran warriors are here
in the city,” Eros stated.

Arith shook his head. “You can’t
join the Miyrans here in the city. You must travel to the deep forest west of
Caldot. Within that forest lies a training camp, hidden from all but the
marked.”

“How do you know this?”

“I’ve befriended many a Miyran
warrior since I started the undergrounders. They often assist us in training
new joiners. While they can’t disclose the specific location to me, they have
provided sufficient details such that we can send marked ones to find the camp.
Even with the information, the journey will be difficult. You should rest.” Arith
went after Kenrya, leaving Eros by himself.

Eros went back to the spot where he
had slept and studied Prizene and Tip. They were incredibly fortunate to have
found the undergrounders, especially since this group held such valuable
information. Still, should he stay with the other three marked ones or travel
on his own? His fighting skills were strong and his senses keen. Then he
recalled his encounter with the Graeliths and he grimaced. Yesterday was a
complete failure on his part. While his senses were strong, he obviously lacked
practical experience with Graeliths, which led to his carelessness — falling
for the stinging-powder trap! And what about the other three? Kenrya had lived
much of her life on the streets and already showed not only street sense in
dealing with the Graeliths, but the ability to treat Tip’s grave injuries. Even
considering her less than perfect attitude, she would be a good asset. Prizene
likely possessed the ability to hypnotize most of the males in the dwelling. She
also exhibited good skill in catching the Graelith in the square off guard. Tip
was naive, that was obvious. He knew little of the city or the Graeliths. This
was probably not unusual for Liputs, as they traveled rarely to the city and
socialized little with others outside Kentish. However, Liputs possessed such
great mechanical abilities that even if only mediocre for his species, Tip’s
skills would prove useful. As a group, their chances of reaching the training
camp improved vastly. He hoped convincing the other three to remain together
wouldn’t be difficult. Eros closed his eyes to rest, though sleep eluded him. He
thought of his home in Kullac.

The Human settlement of Kullac
wasn’t large, one hundred twenty thousand people at most, though it was a
suitable home after they were forced to abandon the world in which they once
lived. Eros knew much of the history, especially since his mother had always
reminded him to remember the details she taught him.

A violent species had attacked the
old Human world and those that could had fled to space. After traveling for
decades, they finally found this world, Zolei, a refuge for persecuted species.
The Miyrans had established the city of Caldot nearly a hundred years before
the Humans arrived and had granted many other species a home there. The Humans
had requested permission from the leader of the Miyrans to settle in Kullac,
which was granted. It made a wonderful home and they were prosperous.

Eros sighed as he thought of all the
things he would miss.

He and his mother had shared a
small log cabin tucked inside a thicket of tall trees. The community had tapped
into power lines extending from the Plinte settlement in Banston and had
installed plumbing using a nearby river as the source. The homes sat scattered
throughout the forest, though standing on the porch of their house, he could
see many others.

He thought of waking to the smell
of his mother’s cooking and his stomach growled.

She would send him out with other
men in the settlement to hunt meat for their meals. Eros preferred to spend the
day with two of his friends and their father. They would start out early in the
morning, setting traps and carrying bolas for hunting. The traps worked
sometimes; other days, they relied on the bolas. Eros’s skill with the bolas
improved over the years and he caught whatever he was hunting most of the time.

He pulled his bolas from his bag
and rolled the cords with their ball-shaped weights in his hands. They reminded
him of home and calmed him.

He and his mother had left Kullac
together and spent the week before his birthday in Banston, as a precaution,
since Banston had the nearest transport station. As they frequently visited the
town, their presence was not unusual. His mother possessed strong fighting
skills that shocked most that saw her use them. Her father, his grandfather, had
been a leader within the Miyran army until his death and had taught his daughter
well. If their plan had worked, Eros would have traveled by transport to the
city to join the warriors. Unfortunately, the Graeliths arrived in the city on
the day of his birth and targeted him almost immediately. Eros and his mother
tried to lose them in the busy town center, but failed. As the general air
transport would no longer be safe, they needed an alternative. Even then, his
mother seemed not to worry. She always planned for contingencies.

Eros didn’t know when she had made
arrangements, but she had contacted one of the Human traders of Kullac,
Anthony, and asked him to be ready to transport Eros safely to Caldot, if
necessary. Transporting a marked one was risky, but Anthony had been in Eros’s
life as long as he could remember and remained as close to a father as he had
known. Anthony was waiting for Isabelle and Eros on the outskirts of Banston in
his air transport.

The Graeliths chased them toward
the ship. His mother told him she would lure them away, allowing him to reach
the safety of the ship. He tried to argue with her, not wanting to leave his
mother to face the Graeliths alone. But she was insistent, telling him it was
the only way. Being marked meant he was destined to join the Miyrans and he
must follow this path. He agreed reluctantly. She gave him a quick hug and
backed away. He heard the Graeliths; they were close. She told him to run. She
blew him one last kiss, then turned and sprinted straight toward the Graeliths.

He reached the ship just as more Graeliths
approached from the other direction. He slipped aboard without difficulty. Searching
for his mother through the transport’s window, he was relieved to see a group
of Plinte fighters running toward the Graeliths from the direction of Banston,
while she ran toward them from the other side. The transport turned before the
parties met. He hoped she survived.

Anthony carried him to the city
limits and provided him with clothes, food, and a few words of wisdom: “Be
brave, follow your heart, and watch where you walk as the city streets are
filthy.”

Eros smiled at the memory, just as
Arith walked back into the cavern. Maybe he should speak with Kenrya about
their journey. Giving up any further attempt at sleep, he stood and headed
toward the passageway.

Kenrya kicked the wall in
frustration, then turned and punched it with the side of her fist. Arith had
insisted her chances of reaching the training camp were greater if she stayed
with the other marked ones. While she agreed in the case of Eros, she snarled
at the thought of having to protect the silly Liput boy and tolerate the
“glamorous” Krystic. What was so special about Krystics anyway? Granted, the
girl stood out, but given their current situation, that wasn’t exactly a
benefit, was it? Kenrya squatted on her heels with her lower back to the wall,
resting her chin on her knees. Once they found a medic for the boy, she would
lose the others. Assuming Eros chose to stay with the group, she would find her
way alone. She closed her eyes to rest a moment. As usual, whenever she was
tired, memories she had pushed away crept back into her thoughts.

“Stupid child!” he yelled at her. Then
he slapped her face with such force she fell against the wall, hitting her head
on the stone surface. “I told you not to speak to me while I was fixing the
wagon,” he growled. “Now, go get the last of it from the house and be quick
about it!”

She pushed herself up from the wall.
She reflexively wiped the dirt from her clothes, despite the fact that they
were already filthy and torn. With one hand, she brushed the long, dark,
tangled hair out of her face. Then, wrapping her stick-like arms around
herself, pressing them against her rumbling belly, she walked cautiously to the
rickety door of the one-room shack she called home. Once inside, she gathered
up the few remaining trinkets that once belonged to her parents. She fingered
the small red gem she kept hidden inside a little wooden box. The man knew
about the box, but not the gem. She found a small crevice in the wall and
pushed the gem inside. She thought about trying to hide one or two others, but
he would catch her and the punishment would be severe.

She carried the remaining items
outside and watched while he carefully added them to the bundle in the wagon,
the items he intended to sell. Then, he turned toward her with a sneer. He grabbed
her arm tightly; marks would be left. “I’ll be gone for a few days,” he said
gruffly, shaking her as if that would help her to understand. “You will not
leave this house. If I so much as hear that you wandered off, you’ll be sorry.”
He grabbed her around the throat with his other hand and spoke with soft menace,
“Do you hear me, girl?”

She nodded and he pushed her away
and into a pile of rocks. When she looked down, her knee was bleeding. She knew
better than to cry.

“Serves you right, you pathetic brat,”
he sneered.

He pulled himself onto the wagon
and urged the beast onward. She watched his cart move away, knowing he had left
no food or water in the house. She would have to leave in darkness to find
something to eat. The neighbors loved nothing more than to tell him when she
disobeyed. Still, for a little while, she would have peace.

Kenrya leaned her head back against
the underground wall. That was the last time she had seen the man. One of the
neighbors had caught her sneaking food from the baker’s shop and most certainly
would have told him. She had fled to the city the same night.

She released the clasp on a pocket
hidden inside her vest and removed the small red gem. She turned it over
lightly in her fingers, finding comfort in the familiar stone. Many times over
the years, she had tried desperately to remember her parents. All she
remembered was the man. He never allowed her to call him by name and never once
showed her any kindness. Not for the first time, Kenrya felt lost and alone. She
had so many questions she needed to be answered and knew no one she could ask.

She rubbed a hand across her
forehead and shook off the memories, returning the stone to its secret pocket. Closing
her eyes, she rested her head in her hands.

After a while, she wiped her hands
over her face and opened her eyes to find Eros squatting across from her. How
long had he been there? His eyes were searching hers with — what was that? Sympathy?
She instinctively pulled back and stood. How dare he?

She strode away from him toward the
cavern. Daylight began to seep into the underground tunnel and a clear head
would be needed for today’s events. Eros could find his own way back.