The Black Forest

by Jennifer Martucci

  Planet Urth: The Black Forest

  (Book 8)

  A novel

  By Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  PLANET URTH: THE BLACK FOREST (BOOK 8)

  Published by Jennifer and Christopher Martucci

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved.

  First edition: August 2016

  Second Edition November 2017

  Cover design by Lou Harper

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are a product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Heart drilling my ribcage and adrenaline saturating every cell in my body, I shout “What about Ara and Pike?” as I walk with an armed Urthman on either side of me. I stop every few steps, asking the same frantic question. Forcing them to urge me on, prodding me with their clubs gently. Though a direct threat hasn’t been issued, it hangs in the air, unspoken. I can tell by their tightened expressions they want nothing more than to skull me repeatedly. Funny thing is, I don’t care. I don’t care what they want to do or what they’re capable of. In the last few hours, I’ve learned what I’m capable of.

  I’m covered in blood. Cas’s blood. The metallic stench fills my nostrils and coats my tongue, making me want to gag as I remember with vengeful rage what prompted his blood to be shed. “Hey!” I scream and twist my body right, staring directly at the hideous being who grips the handle of his club so tightly his knuckles are white. “I asked about Ara and Pike!” He doesn’t answer, won’t even look my way. Instead, a small smirk slithers across his face. The urge to strangle him burgeons. My wrists are bound in front of me, looser than they’ve ever been. Loose enough for me to move with ease. Eyes darting from left to right, it’s clear to me I could attack with minimal difficulty, kill him before the other strikes.

  Just as my muscles twitch and I start to act, the Urthman to my left says, “Your brother and sister won’t fight today. You’ve earned them the chance to live on.” My head whips in his direction. He sees me in his periphery. I know he does. The broad smile followed by the words “for now” confirm it. I choke back every hateful word I want to spew and struggle to harness the uncontrolled rage that has arisen on the off chance that he is telling the truth and Ara and Pike are alive. Urthmen are monsters. All of them. Liars without honor or conscience. Until I see Ara and Pike with my own eyes, I can’t believe a word any of them say. Still, I hope. I hope while I grind my molars hard enough that I can hear the enamel scrape. I listen to the short shallow breaths I take, feeling every bit like the caged animal I’ve become, until I’m stopped just outside a thick wooden door painted white. Absurdly bright and out of place along the dingy walls of the corridor, the door is locked. The Urthman to my left reaches into his pocket and retrieves a set of keys, turning his back and presenting me with yet another opportunity to strike while he inserts and turns the key. My brother and sister are the only thing that prevents me from doing so. The chance that I’ll see them again. So I wait, every muscle tensed as my eyes bore a hole into the back of his misshapen head. When he finishes, he fumbles for another key on the ring and approaches me. My wrist cuffs are removed and I’m shoved in past the now-open door, only to be left alone and have it locked behind me.

  Pounding the door with both fists, I scream, “What’s going on?” Then, “Hey! What am I supposed to do in here?” I’m answered at first with the sound of footsteps that grow fainter and fainter. The subtle clack of booted feet giving way to staunch silence. The kind of silence that rings in the ears and smothers. I’m left standing, suffocating in the thick silence, shaking and with Cas’s blood still damp on my skin.

  I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut. Flashes of Kohl’s horrific death flare to life in my memory. My life has assumed a nightmarish quality in the last few weeks. I watched both my parents die at the hands of Urthmen after they stormed our village. In the last few hours I watched my brother die, slaughtered by Cas, a human just like me, fighting for the entertainment of an Urthman audience. My parents’ death. My brother’s dead. Both fill me with sadness so profound it feels like liquid lead runs through my veins. But I refuse to succumb to it. I refuse to give in to the overwhelming grief. Balling my hands into tight fists, I push the pain down, burying it in a deep, cavernous hollow of my being. There, it transforms to anger. Anger intense enough to make me tremble. I want to kill the Urthmen. Kill them all.

  Movement on the other side of the door snaps my attention toward it. Voices and the jingle of keys sound and then the door swings open. A group of roughly a dozen Urthman guards, all dressed in khaki pants and shirts mottled with olive green, barrel in, followed by Prince Cadogan. The guards line the walls in formation before their leader sweeps in. Prince Cadogan stops. He stares at me, his eyes, altered and lifted so high they seem expressionless. But he attempts to narrow them. He inhales. His chest puffs out and he squares his shoulders. The room has gone so still the only sounds I hear are the beat of my heart and my own breathing. That stillness is interrupted when Prince Cadogan raises his hands and begins clapping softly. His intense stare doesn’t waver.

  Glowering at him, I wonder whether his gesture is meant to mock me. “Where are my brother and sister?” I enunciate each word so that they are clipped and concise.

  His clapping stops. He leaves his hands, palms pressed together, in front of him and holds my gaze for several beats. He answers flatly, “They are fine. Both are back in their cells.” He remains, frozen as he is, for another moment before he advances. He circles me, eyeing me up and down with his long, red, fur-trimmed cape trailing behind him. He is a ridiculous creature. His skin-tight clothes made of shiny fabric I’ve never seen before that strains against a body too large for it, the white, curly wig that sits askew on top of his smooth head, the pomp and circumstance surrounding him, all of it is absurd. He is Prince Nothing. A glorified enslaver. A celebrated murderer. And he is within my reach. He stops walking and stands directly in front of me, his cape stopping seconds after with a soft swishing sound. I want nothing more than to snap his neck. Face to face with the reason my brother, mother and father are dead, I try to calculate how quickly a guard would drive his blade through me before I could. Ara and Pike’s faces pop into my mind. If I were to kill Prince Cadogan and die, they will suffer prolonged, torturous deaths. I can’t allow that. I tamp down the feral desire I have.

  “Lucas.” Prince Cadogan hisses my name, drawing out the “s”. “You are now our champion.” He studies me, trying to gauge my reaction.

  I nod slowly, Pike and Ara my only reason, and feign that his acknowledgment matters in the least.

  One corner of his mouth curls. He pauses then lifts his index finger to his mouth for dramatic effect, pursing his blubbery lips as if considering his words carefully. He sighs loudly then speaks. “Now what you need to decide, Lucas the Champion, is how you plan to handle it.” He waits, tapping his finger to his chin this time. “Will you embrace it and all the luxuries that accompany it?”

  I stifle the bitter laugh that wells within me. Cas was the Champion. He occupied the same cell I did. Hardly luxury accommodations. “Luxuries?” I fight to keep the sarcasm from my tone.

  Prince Cadogan levels me with a hard gaze. “Being my Champion comes with many luxuries. You will be allowed to train as often as you like. You won’t be beaten unless there’s a reason. You will get a larger portion of food each night. And once a month, I will allow you to copulate with a human girl of our choosing.” He watches me, satisfied with himself and clearly convinced he�
��s proposed an offer of tremendous worth.

  “A human girl of our choosing?” I echo what he’s said, not because it interests me in the least but because I’m stunned by how girls are treated here. They’re treated even worse than boys.

  “Oh yes,” he replies with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. He even winks at me, a gesture that makes my stomach turn. “And don’t worry. I’ll personally see to it that your selection is suitable for our Champion.” Another wink from him makes bile rise in the back of my throat. “But,” he pipes in a sing-song voice. “I need to know if you’re going to embrace your new status, or,” he pauses and when he resumes speaking, his tone has hardened. “If you would rather watch your sister and brother die before you finally do.” His eyes lock on mine. Blacker than the darkest night and filled with sick amusement, they try to read my reaction. But in them, beyond the arrogance and bravado, something else lurks. Intention. Need. He needs me. He needs me to fight. To spill the blood of my people so he can fill the seats of his arena. The realization is stark and ugly. I’m appalled. Prince Cadogan is every bit as revolting inwardly as he is outwardly. But to keep Ara and Pike safe, I have to keep up the charade. I have to submit. For now, at least.

  Seething and nauseated, I reluctantly drop to one knee. I bow my head in deference. “I will not let you down, Prince Cadogan.” The words are spat and hardly hide the hostility I feel. This fact does not go unnoticed by the Urthman ruler.

  Prince Cadogan laughs mirthlessly. “That’s a good start, Lucas. But you’re going to have to do a lot better than that to convince me of your allegiance.”

  Lifting my head so that our gazes clash, a question falls from my lips before I can stop it. “Like what?”

  The Prince sneers. “I’ll come up with something—an act or gesture you’ll carry out—that will prove your loyalty. If, in fact, it is sincere.”

  Clenching my jaw so tight the small muscles around it ache, I reply, “It is, my lord. My loyalty is sincere. But I will do whatever you ask of me.” Vomit creeps up the back of my throat. I want to add, “as long as I live to see your severed head at my feet” but do not dare. I will not risk the chance to see my siblings.

  “Hmm, we’ll see,” Prince Cadogan responds. He breaks eye contact with me and turns to face the guards. “Take him to his cell. Let him see that his brother and sister are alive and well.” Two guards are at my side at his command while the others break formation to follow him as he marches out of the room.

  Surprisingly, I’m not yanked to my feet. Instead, the Urthmen wait as I rise. Cuffs are placed on my wrists. Again, they are loose and left in front of me. “Let’s go,” one says flatly. I nod and we leave the room. Following a long, winding corridor carved through rock, we move at a brisk pace. I’m immune to the acrid smell of dampness and urine. My thoughts are narrowed to the possibility that the Prince wasn’t lying and Ara and Pike await me. That possibility affords me a glimmer of hope. Hope, though dangerous and on the verge of being futile in this Urthman stronghold, sustains me. It’s all that anchors me to sanity at this point.

  Several moments pass before we stop outside a door that’s half wood and half metal bars. I know this door all too well. It’s where my siblings and I have been held since we were captured and brought here. One of the Urthmen fumbles with keys then shoves the door open. My eyes scan the space. Dim light scrawls across the stone floor, scurrying up the wall until it touches the soft, gold curls and petite features of a face so familiar my heart swells and immediately feels as though it’s doubled in size. Ara. My sister Ara is alive. I want to weep. To drop to my knees and allow the tears that blur my eyes to fall. Pike is with her. A few inches shorter than me but with the same green eyes all of my siblings bore, the sight of him has the same effect. Bars divide Ara and Pike. Still, they sit with their backs pressed against each other, Ara’s small hand in Pike’s. I attempt to say their names, but the words are lodged in a throat constricted by emotion. So I slide one foot inside. Both of them look up. They see me but my presence doesn’t register at first. But when their eyes widen and Ara murmurs, “Lucas!” I know it has.

  “Lucas, it’s you!” Ara says. Though her voice is little more than a whisper, I hear the excitement in it. I feel the excitement in it.

  “Ara. Pike,” I finally manage to rasp, but do not trust my voice to hold up.

  “We thought for sure they’d kill you for what you did to Cas,” Pike says. I hear the tremor in his tone, hear the pain.

  I close the distance between us and crouch down beside them. Tears tumble down Ara’s face. I reach my hand through the bars and press it to her cheek reassuringly.

  “I’m so sorry, Ara. I’ve failed. I’ve failed you and I have failed Pike. I failed mom and dad. And I failed Kohl.” Hearing myself acknowledge what I’ve done nearly causes me to double over with shame.

  “No. You didn’t,” Pike says adamantly.

  “No,” Ara concurs. “But I can’t believe he’s gone.” Her voice is reed-thin, yet it’s a finely honed blade that stabs straight through my heart.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone either. I look around here,” I stop and swallow hard against the lump that’s gathered in my throat, “And I don’t see him.” My voice falters and the tears that’ve been gathering and burning my eyes spill silently. Shaking my head, I brush the tears from my cheeks with the back of my free hand. No one must see them. No one but Ara and Pike. And even for them, this will be the last time I afford myself the luxury. They are mine to care for now. “We will honor Kohl by getting out of this place and making the Urthmen pay for what they’ve done.” My voice is edged in steel as I say words aloud that I’ve only vowed silently up until now.

  Pike’s head, bowed before, whips up. Tears have carved streaks in the dirt that stains his cheeks. “How? How can we do that?” His lower lip quivers as he fights the tears that fall.

  His hurt strengthens my resolve. “I’m working on it. Trust me,” I promise both Ara and Pike, careful to keep my voice low. “I owe it to Kohl and to both of you to escape.” I look each of them directly in their eyes, holding their respective gazes for several beats. “I swear on his life and on the lives of Mom and Dad, I will not let you die in the arena or this cell.” Ara and Pike reply with nods that are almost imperceptible. I grip Pike’s shoulder and reach through the bars to stroke Ara’s cheek. But I feel eyes on me. Immediately, I search the cell. When I do, I find the source. A glacial stare the color of ice over water is locked on me. Reyna, sitting regally with her back straight and her hair hanging in flaxen panels on either side of her face, studies me.

  “Do you mean that?” she asks. Her voice is almost as ethereal as her eyes, which transcend the dank darkness.

  “What?” A trembling thread of inexplicable nervousness pulses through me, as it always does at the sound of her voice.

  “Did you mean what you said to them? That you intend to get out of here?”

  “That, or die trying,” I answer with iron will.

  I feel her eyes on me. “I am with you.”

  “I’m with you, as well,” a deep voice behind me sounds. I turn and see Kai. A mountain of a man with skin the color of rich, fertile soil, he sits with his legs out in front of him and his back against a wall. “I’m with you, brother.” The bass of his voice sets the fine hairs on the back of my neck on end. That, and the fact that not only did Reyna hear me, but Kai did, as well. Who else heard? I wonder.

  My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the cell door opening. Cas’s friends enter. I spring to my feet, preparing for confrontation as they approach me. Spatters of blood are splashed across their skin and the coppery scent of it hangs in the air around them. They’ve just left the arena. They’ve just taken lives.

  “You are our new Champion,” the man who now stands directly in front of me says. As tall as I am and leaner, his muscles are ropey, expanding down the lengths of his arms and legs like braided cords. “I’m Xan. This is Micah.” He tosses his thumb to his left, poin
ting to the man beside him. Built similarly in stature, Micah’s skin is a rich shade of bronze and his eyes are as dark as an Urthman’s. Both men wear their hair long, gathered by a leather band at the napes of their necks.

  Looking at them incredulously as I process not only the transformation in their attitudes toward me but what Xan has just said, I can’t resist replying, “There is no honor in dying for their amusement.” I clip my chin toward an Urthman at the door.

  Xan and Micah’s features, smooth and sincere moments earlier, harden.

  “Lucas,” the rumble of Kai’s voice causes me to turn in his direction. He doesn’t utter a word. He just shakes his head, gesturing “no”.

  “They don’t get it!” Reyna snaps. “And they won’t.” Her frosty gaze is withering and trained on Xan and Micah.

  “Don’t get what?” Micah barks. He lowers his shoulders and flexes every muscle, readying himself in a battle stance. I realize that if I want to maintain the Lucas-the-Champion farce and escape with Ara, Pike and whoever else wants to come, I’ll need Xan and Micah. I’ll need their allegiance both in and out of the arena.

  “Nothing,” I say smoothly. I nod to them. “It will be an honor to face you in the arena, as well.” Micah smiles broadly, his body relaxing visibly. “To face both of you,” I add and watch Xan grin as though I’ve offered him my dinner.

  “I’m impressed with how you battled Cas. Well done. I never thought he would fall,” Xan says, his brown eyes wide.

  “Every man falls, eventually,” I reply without thinking my words through. Fortunately, both men nod somberly. What I’ve said resonates with them. They will fall, sooner than I will. And one day, hopefully not for many, many years, I will fall, too. We are born and we die. And in what remains of the earth that was once governed by humans, death hunts us at every turn. This fact is not entirely lost on Xan and Micah, though they bear little of what links all humans to one another. They, like their fallen friend Cas, have transformed into beings halfway between Urthman and human in thought. They’ve become harbingers of doom. Bringers of blood and death. I will not be like them. I will not let my family become like them.