The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) (9 page)

After several hours of underground
travel, Kenrya saw Arith raise his arm to halt the group. Lutra gently lifted
Tip’s arms off his shoulder and sat him down on the ground, leaning against the
wall. Arith peered through a vent ahead of him, making no move nearer to it. Prizene
and Eros looked questioningly at Lutra, who held his finger to his lips to
indicate they should be quiet. Eros leaned against the wall, while Prizene
restlessly shifted her weight from foot to foot.

Kenrya yawned and squatted near Tip
to wait for the signal. She flicked a few pieces of debris against the wall. Then
she reached into the little pocket in her vest and removed the red stone. She
rolled it between her fingers before putting it back in her vest. As she ran
her hand across her face, she debated when she would have the chance again to
speak with Eros. She raised her eyes to take a peek at him only to find him watching
her. He flicked his eyes away almost immediately. He must still be angry. She
returned her eyes to the ground.

At least half an hour passed before
Kenrya heard the whistle. Arith motioned to the group to follow and they
started toward the ladder under the vent. He climbed cautiously and as he
neared the top, the vent cover lifted. He spoke briefly with someone, then
climbed out of the underground.

Lutra lifted Tip and went to the
ladder. He hiked Tip onto his shoulder, then climbed with great effort a few
rungs up the ladder. Hands reached down from above, grabbed Tip under the arms,
and hoisted him out of the underground. Lutra followed, as did the others. Kenrya
paused for a moment, staring down the passageway. If she tried to leave the
group now, Arith would find her. Plus, she still needed to speak with Eros. She
sighed and climbed up the ladder and into the daylight.

The three men who opened the vent
cover above ground were speaking quietly with Arith. Prizene considered the
narrow alley around them, surprised such a pathway warranted the title of
street. In the mountain foothills, such a “street” would not be considered
usable. Here no inhabitants or trash were visible, and at least the smell was
tolerable, unlike many areas in town, as she had discovered over the last few
days while wandering through the city. She looked over at Tip. His breathing
had slowed and his color had turned an unnatural shade, almost ashen. She
placed her hand over his forehead and cheek. His skin was like ice. He opened
his eyes a little and smiled weakly at her. She smiled back and murmured some
words of comfort.

What else could she do? She turned
toward Arith to find him watching her. He nodded in understanding and returned
to the conversation with the men standing near him, just as a Plinte named
Ampal and another undergrounder rounded the corner. The conversation continued
with a flurry of gestures until finally Arith approached her and the other
marked ones.

“There are Tyrnotts and Graeliths
everywhere,” Arith said. “However, there seems to be a pattern to their patrols.
We’ll wait a quarter of an hour until the sun moves past the tower to the south.
The men will guard nearby passageways to ensure no others enter this area. Lutra,
Ampal, and I will escort Tip to the medic. We’ll likely encounter somewhere
between two and six enemies, but we can easily handle them,” he said, lifting
his chin. “Lutra will carry Tip. Stay with him at all times. Understood?”

When they nodded, Arith returned to
the group of men standing nearby. Again, they waited. Prizene watched the sun’s
path until it slipped past the crest of the tower. Then the group of men broke
apart and all but Arith, Ampal, and Lutra left the little street. Prizene
helped balance Tip while Lutra hoisted him over his shoulder and the party
departed, Ampal leading and Arith taking the rear.

Prizene stayed in the middle of the
group. Her stomach tightened at the thought of encountering another Graelith. Hadn’t
she barely escaped the ones from the day before? They cautiously walked along
an eight-foot-wide path bordered by high walls. Ampal slowed as he neared an
intersection with another alley and placed his hands on the hilts of his swords.
As he edged forward, a Graelith lunged toward him swinging a claw in attack. In
one fluid motion, Ampal gracefully dropped, rolled, and landed in a crouched
position with his swords drawn. The Graelith growled and swung his own sword. Ampal
blocked the attack with one sword and sliced the second across the Graelith’s
throat. The beast fell to the ground, blood gurgling from its neck.

That’s when Prizene saw the second
Graelith. He looked smaller and younger than the first and hung back. The
Graelith’s breathing appeared erratic and he was fidgeting with the sword in
his hand. He didn’t growl or even snarl. His eyes were wide as he watched Ampal.
Ampal turned toward him and hesitated only a second before plunging a sword
through the Graelith’s chest. The Graelith dropped his sword and clutched his
chest. He collapsed against the wall and slowly slid to the ground. Ampal wiped
his swords and sheathed them, then continued onward.

Each of the party looked at the
Graeliths as they passed. Prizene couldn’t take her eyes off the second
Graelith. When she reached the body, she stopped. Could it be? In his eyes, she
was certain she saw fear. Her chest tightened and her vision blurred as her
eyes moistened. She bit her lip. But wasn’t he just a beast?

Something touched her shoulder and
she jumped. She turned to find Eros standing next to her. His eyes softened and
he gave her a half-hearted smile. He walked over and squatted by the Graelith,
and then gently closed the creature’s eyes. He bowed his head for a moment,
then stood and faced her. With a quick nod, he resumed his place walking with
the others.

She caught a glimpse of movement
out of the corner of her eye. Arith was standing back, waiting for her. She
walked over to the Graelith and squatted in front of him. What did one do for
the dead? She closed her eyes and bowed her head.
May you find peace.
Then
she took one last look at the Graelith, stood, and followed the others with
Arith bringing up the rear.

The plan worked smoothly. They had
encountered just the two Graeliths, easily killed by Ampal alone. No other
enemies crossed their path. Prizene hoped one day her fighting skills could be
half as strong as Ampal’s. In a short time, they entered the medic’s home and
Tip was carried below ground to a small medical laboratory. Prizene followed
the others to the rooftop to enjoy the midday sun. They would rest until
shortly after midnight, then they would depart for the western edge of the
city.

The medic brought a weak but
sure-footed Tip to the roof a few hours later. He reported that he had treated
Tip’s wounds and replaced the blood he had lost. Luckily, he owned some highly
advanced medical tools designed in the early days of the Tyrnott rule, before
possession of such tools became illegal. With these instruments, he could
repair tissue deep within the wounds, slowly working his way out toward the
surface. Tip’s wounds were nearly healed, leaving only tenderness on his side.

Tip’s color returned quickly. Given
his enthusiastic grin, he apparently enjoyed hearing stories of his and
Prizene’s escape. As the storytelling quieted, Tip asked a question. “Why are
we marked?”

Prizene stole a glance at the
others, curious as to their reactions. She hoped to see reflections of her own
curiosity on the subject, but instead, just saw blank stares. She shifted her
eyes back to Tip.

He stammered, “I guess … I just
don’t understand. Few from Kentish have ever been marked. Sometimes the traders
tell us tales, but we travel rarely to the city and hear little of the
happenings. Why did this happen to me?”

Poor Tip. Prizene couldn’t leave
him out on that limb on his own, could she? She chimed in, “Most Krystics care
little of the marked. My father shared some of the Miyran legends, but you
aren’t alone in your lack of knowledge.”

She turned to Arith and raised her
eyebrows to encourage him. He sighed and leaned back against the roof wall,
stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. “The Miyrans settled
on Zolei a century and a half ago. Of their time before that, I know nothing. Of
their time since, I can speak some truth and some legend, though I warn you
that I don’t necessarily know one from the other.

“Here’s what I have heard. At any
given time, two Miyran heirs must survive to protect the planet. From what I
understand, Zolei had long been known as a place of prosperity. As this part of
the galaxy was heavily populated and many races came under attack, they
traveled from barren and ravaged worlds to seek solace here. Lord Attol and his
daughter Lady Anyamae maintained peace for a long time. The Miyrans were
cautious when permitting new species access to the planet, though not cautious
enough. Lord Attol allowed the Tyrnotts to settle here. At first, they seemed
peaceful, though discontent did grow after they arrived. Their true intentions
came to light when they tricked Attol and killed him. Since then, Anyamae has
allowed no new races to settle on Zolei. She protects the planet as best she
can by preventing access to its surface. But alone, she lacks the power to
protect the citizens from the Tyrnotts.

“With the death of Attol, the Tyrnotts
seized control of the city and surrounding areas. Most of the population lacked
information on how Attol died, which meant the Tyrnotts weren’t blamed. My
grandfather told me the Tyrnotts shared food and supplies with others when
goods ran low, as a result of Anyamae cutting off trade with other worlds. That
alone seems to have convinced the population to trust them more than Anyamae. They
brought the Graeliths to the city from a very distant part of the planet under
the guise of restoring peace. However, the Graeliths secretly fought against
the Lady’s warriors and diminished their numbers considerably.

“By this point, the Tyrnotts
started implementing laws to protect themselves and the Graeliths became the
enforcers. Shortly after the Tyrnotts gained control, laser weapons were
banned, curfews were implemented, and powerful supporters of the Miyrans were
destroyed.

“One of the most notable species
persecuted by the Tyrnotts was the Gaelae, a winged race. A Gaela man belonging
to the royal Gaela clan might possess a wingspan of twelve feet. The species
threatened the rule of the Tyrnotts by casting doubt on their intentions after
they murdered the citizens of two communities. To eliminate the threat,
Graeliths converged on the Gaelan mountain village before dawn about fifteen
years ago to carry out a surprise attack. They slaughtered almost every man,
woman, and child before daybreak. A few escaped deeper into the hills, but even
those were flushed out over time and killed. Everyone suspected that openly supporting
the Miyrans would lead to death, but this last act of genocide left no doubt. As
Anyamae’s supporters are scattered and fewer in number than those supporting
the Tyrnotts, the warriors learn to hide; they learn to blend into every
situation. Only when directly protecting Anyamae do they wear traditional
dress.

“Starting before my time, the mark
began appearing on the day those chosen by the Lady turned sixteen. The marking
serves to bring new warriors to the city to provide protection for Anyamae and
the younger marked ones. While the Tyrnotts turned many citizens against the
marked by spreading a lie that the marked generated the unrest, I believe the
markings serve another purpose. One of Anyamae’s children will carry the gift
of the Miyran. The heir’s abilities will surface starting on his or her
sixteenth birthday. Anyamae may very well mark her child, as a way to bring the
child to her before its identity is known. I’m aware of no one who knows
whether the heir has been born, and if so, whether the heir is nearing a
sixteenth birthday. However, of one thing we can be certain: the heir is not
dead. For the death of the heir would likely bring destruction to this world.”

Arith paused and looked at Tip. “Why
do you bear the mark, you ask? Lady Anyamae has chosen you. For what specific
purpose, I don’t know. But I do know every mark is placed by her for a reason. You
must follow the path of the marked to understand why she has chosen you.”

Tip started to ask another question
and Arith held up his hand to stop him. “We must rest now. You’ll need your
strength for the journey ahead.”

Arith settled wearily under the
roof canopy and turned away from the others. Prizene watched as, one by one,
the group did the same.

She lay down to rest.
Why would
Lady Anyamae choose me?

The boy rounded the corner at a
dead run, entering a long, wide street. The sun had long since set, and a cool
darkness settled across the city. He slowed momentarily to scan the street for
escape. Again, Eros recognized the species as Plinte. This boy’s skin was much
darker than the girl before, but he still bore the high forehead and upturned
eyes of the species. His dark hair stood but a quarter of an inch from his head
and his sharp eyes darted in every direction. He wore a dark and sturdy body
armor that was thick, but allowed him to move freely.

Graeliths hunted this boy. The mark
shone brightly even in the dim light of the flickering street lamp. Eros wanted
to help him. Eros
needed
to help him.

Moments later, two Graeliths
rounded the corner. They attacked in unison, but two Graeliths were no match
for a Plinte male. After a short scuffle, the two Graeliths lay dead. The boy
returned the swords to his sides and continued down the street at a jog,
scanning the side streets for an escape.

But the boy was headed toward
danger, not away from it. Graeliths were waiting in an alley farther down the
street and others were coming from the opposite direction. Eros had to warn the
boy or he would surely die!