“How are you certain?” Bracus asked, his voice fierce, his mind in turmoil.
“She pricked her finger on the rose that grows outside Jack's dwelling. I went to assist her... I touched her hand...” He looked down, almost ashamed.
“Did you feel it?” Bracus asked.
He looked up suddenly, his eyes a glittering intensity in the darkness. “I did.”
A select. They were only rumors. But they needed the hope that a Band member would have a chance with a select. They had given up hope. There had been females who possessed the trait that appealed so much to the Band and was the promised solution to the dwindling population. But if that were the case, Clara was much more than just a female. She was The Female.
“Why did you not tell me?” Bracus asked incredulously.
“I thought there time enough after we found Evelyn to explore this.” Philip walked toward Bracus and put his hand on his shoulder. “It does no good to talk of it. It is but a feeling on Jack's part. That Matthew would harm a female... is unthinkable. We have known our brother how long? Ten years?”
“Besides, you know what the history of the Evil Ones say. If a Band member chooses from the select, it is a biological imperative. There is no choice. The male would not harm her. He would be unable to.” Jacob lifted his hands up in placation.
But nothing could make Bracus feel safe except having her near him. Maybe it was nothing. But Jack had felt it odd enough to mention, and Matthew had revealed himself to her. And now she was a select.
It was a horrible set of circumstances. Bracus was honor-bound to rescue Evelyn. Of course he wished to, but a rare female of the select was in possible danger, and he could do nothing. His teeth clenched in frustration.
Jacob said, “Joseph and Stephen are there as well. They will not let harm befall the Princess.”
“I should have said nothing. My mate is there, and with child. If I had felt there was a present danger, I would have not come on this errand,” Jack said.
Bracus cursed. “I wish you had said something earlier. We will rescue Evelyn, then make haste to the clan. And Clara had better be in pristine condition.” He stared Jack in the eye.
****
Clara pushed the heavy crockery plate away. She was so full she could not take another bite. In her bones, she knew that after a bath in the hot springs and another night's sleep, she would feel human once again.
She chanced a look at the guard but his eyes eluded hers. He had been strained since the incident, and the whole group was treating her differently. She was not sure that she liked the new treatment. It felt a little like when everyone in the sphere acted keenly aware that she was royal. She had enjoyed being just Clara to these people. Now, because of the odd reaction, they were all looking at her and at each other in the strangest way. Later, when she and Lillian had privacy, she would ask her what it all meant.
They stood in an awkward pool of silence, and finally Clara broke it. “I do not know what is wrong presently, but tomorrow, when I am better rested, I do wish to be advised of this strange occurrence.”
She felt guard’s eyes on her, and the strange heat she had felt earlier flared up. Her eyes met his. He stared at her, and she could think of nothing else but him. That she had been nervous or scared of him earlier now struck her as odd. What was happening? What was the Band to her?
Matthew looked at her and was angry. She had done something to him, and he knew not what. It did not alter his plans in the slightest. It did not matter that she was a select, as all the others must be thinking now. It was a myth he did not ascribe to. No female had power over men. It was ridiculous, an excuse for weakness. He thought on his earliest memories with the fragment.
*
He groveled at her feet, touching her skirt, his belly burning with acute hunger. If she would give him some of the delicious food that she prepared, even a small amount, he would be so grateful.
Instead, with a leather-clad foot, she kicked at him, and he moved swiftly before her foot found purchase. He knew he was different from these people: faster, stronger. He had strange airways that caused a constant onslaught of teasing. But he persevered. He would escape this terrible place with these people who hated him. The males around him beat the females. All the females hated all the males, save one. There was one small female who showed him mercy, sneaking food to him when no one saw. Margaret alone kept him alive. He had been too young to save her when she was savaged by one of the males, but they had forced him to watch. Yes, indeed they had. He could never erase it from his mind.
Her screams pierced his ears as they beat her, did things to her. His twelve-year-old mind tried to shut out her pleading, but he could still hear her wretched wailing.
“Matthew, save me!”
One of the males holding him said, “This is what happens to females who lie with monsters like you.”
“She did not lay with me! We are but children. She fed me when I hungered!”
“Shut up abomination.”
Matthew's head rocked back as a blow split his lip like a ripe fruit. Blood flowed out of it. His tears of anguish added salt to the pain of his injuries.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he could hear her no more. The males who assaulted her took her limp body and threw it at his feet, laughing derisively. “A lot of fight in that one!”
Matthew told himself he would not look at her, but then he did. Her frail form lay broken and bleeding, her long, dark hair strewn about like black water mingling with the pool of her blood.
Matthew looked up at the fragment males responsible for her death, memorizing each face and vowed he would kill them all one day.
“Look at his face, he is so strong...” They mocked him. One kicked him in the ribs almost playfully, but they did not break. Matthew had a very strong constitution, but as the night wore on, it was proven that even he could not take all the beating they had for him. Eventually, he passed out from the pain.
When Matthew could move again and he was certain he could escape, he vowed to never love another female. The pain was too great a price.
People were not to be trusted.
His vow intact, he fled, leaving the fragment and a piece of his heart behind forever.
Clara saw Matthew's fists clench and unclench while he looked at her. Surely he was not cross with her? But his rage burned twin holes into her body, and she stepped back, confused.
He gave a disgusted exhale and strode off, narrowly missing a young man who was walking by.
Joseph and Stephen looked at each other and followed him.
Lillian took Clara's hand. “Do not mind him. He is not at all sociable. Mayhap the interaction surprised him.”
Clara felt she was more in tune with shock, having left surprise behind some time ago.
She allowed herself to be led away and fervently wished for the streetlamps that would have been burning inside the sphere to light their way back to the cottage.
Even with Lillian by her side, she had never felt so alone.
CHAPTER 30
Queen Ada stood before the guards, giving them the full measure of her gaze. “My daughter is gone, and her friend, Charles, is also gone. One of our own sentry guards has disappeared as well.”
She swayed over to the nearest guard, her hand lashing out to grasp his chin. His eyes went wide. No one wished to have the Queen's full attention. Her fingers bit into the tender flesh of his jaw. “Who is responsible for allowing those two traitors free access to the Outside, damaging the sphere-wall once more?” She threw his face away, and he stumbled a little. The crescents left by her nails filled with blood.
“It disgusts me that you would allow more damage. The sphere is the thickness of mere parchment now!” She stormed about the Gathering Room in a fit of temper and threw up her hands in a jerky, chaotic dance. Bright, irregular spots of color appeared on her cheekbones.
She whirled. The royal guard stilled as one.
“You will find her and those
two traitors, and bring her back to this sphere! It is apparent to all that we might now survive Outside. No matter.” She waved away the uneasy shifting and murmurings from the guard, none of whom wished to risk the Outside.
“Your Majesty.”
Her eyes narrowed on the guard brazen enough to address her directly.
“Perhaps you should accompany us so that you might address her captors directly. Obviously, they should be punished for daring to take our Princess.”
The Queen stopped her frenetic pacing, stroking the wine goblet.
What of her wine?
It was King Otto who answered. “Given the circumstance, Queen Ada, Prince Frederic and I would be happy to assist by maintaining things here during your short journey.” He mustered up false sincerity like a sudden storm. “And we would very much like to supply whatever you may need.”
The wine, she interpreted with tremendous relief.
Yes, she would like to go on this journey. That wretched girl had done it this time. She’d probably begged to go with the horrible savages— anything to not fulfill her betrothal obligation. She had never been grateful for Ada's sacrifices for her, like that stupid man she had married... Raymond. What a waste, a martyr like Clara. It was no longer important. At least she was Queen. She smiled grimly. She had that and her wine.
“Very well.” Ada caught sight of Elvira. “You, servant.”
Elvira rushed over, her body and face bowed.
“Get my reticule and everything that one needs for...”
She looked sharply at the guard with the big mouth.
“One week your majesty. Methinks we need that much time.”
Queen Ada made an exasperated sound low in her throat.
Dolts.
Could no one get anything done with haste?
She looked back at Elvira. “Are you daft? You heard him: one week.” She enunciated slowly as if the girl could not hear.
Elvira scurried off, knowing the Queen would squish her like a noxious bug if she were to be underfoot a moment longer.
Ada whirled around again, slightly unsteady, already loathing that she had sent that stupid girl away.
Her goblet was quite empty.
Prince Frederic looked at the guards, and they regarded him with uneasy eyes. “Why don't I take that from you, Queen Ada. Would you like to enjoy a brief respite with father, while I secure refreshments?” He never took his eyes off Ada's.
He captured the goblet, plucking it from her limp fingers as she cast a benevolent smile. He thought about how close he had come to having her daughter in his grasp.
And he would again.
He would take his own guard, trailing behind hers in secret. And there would be an unfortunate ambush, one she would not recover from.
Who would the pearl kingdom have then?
It would have me, the Prince thought. He strolled away with the Queen's goblet in his fist, the brilliant blue crystal throwing off shards of color.
It speared the carpet like a path of blue blood.
****
Clara and Lillian made their careful way to the hot springs, its ancient path etched between great swaths of densely blanketed evergreen trees. Clara breathed deeply of the fragrant air, never able to get enough of its heady taste upon her tongue. There was nothing to match it in her memory.
Lillian watched Clara and thought how strange it was that she smelled everything. Of course, she had never been outside before. For Clara, every sight, smell, and taste was a first. She had been almost reverent of their crude food tonight, asking about every little detail. Lillian decided that she was quite good company, not at all what she had expected a Princess should be.
They had an old book of fairy tales that talked about royalty like remote creatures above everyone. Although Clara had a strikingly delicate beauty, as told in the tales, she was comfortable to be around and not haughty in any way.
Lillian liked her.
Yet, she was nervous of Matthew following a scarce twenty feet behind them. He had not seemed himself lately. Always quiet and brooding, since the acquisition plans for the Princess, his mood had changed to remote and edgy. Joseph and Stephen were off sweeping the perimeter. She watched Anna walking ahead of them. Lillian had invited her, but she was so shy she removed herself from the conversation. Lillian sighed, would Anna ever relax? Of course, the presence of a male was enough to make her skittish as a colt.
Lillian glanced behind her and did not see Matthew. Thank goodness. Let him scout and be out of her sight. Soon enough, she would have to address Clara's status as select. She did not look forward to that conversation.
Anna stopped at the cave entrance to the springs. Her dark eyes probed the twilight. “Where is Matthew?”
Lillian shrugged. “Scouting, I presume.”
Clara looked where Anna did. Seeing nothing, she moved forward, and Lillian caught her wrist. “Have a care.”
Clara looked down and saw that the ground had grown soft. A pebbled path veered off to the right, leading down into the murky darkness.
Anna pulled a candle from her small reticule, and Lillian poured the smallest amount of foul smelling fluid over it. Lillian lit the candle. Clara thought, they have no steam to power their lights. The candle illuminated the path in front of them, little more than enough to keep them from stumbling.
Finally, after another five minutes of walking, they arrived at a small dark pool. Lazy spirals of steam made a rich vapor in the air, clinging to the surface like departed spirits. A pocket of sky rode the open area with no tree cover. The moon, almost full, lit the water, and Clara realized she'd been wrong. She could see quite well.
Lillian plugged the lit candle into the soft earth where it met the lapping water. The two women undressed quickly and got in. Lillian gave a satisfied groan of pleasure. “It has been two days since my last bath, and I, for one, was in need of it.” She flipped onto her back and floated. The moonlight caressed her form. Her belly, which held the babe, was the barest swelling.
“Do get in, Clara,” Lillian said.
Clara looked about her nervously. “What of Matthew?”
She did not want to be naked and vulnerable with any male around. Prince Frederic’s assault was still a fresh wound that festered in her psyche.
Anna smiled, and it took Clara's breath away. She was lovely. But had been so solemn since their first introduction that Clara had not known what to think of her. The look of happiness suited Anna.
Looking about her once more, Clara was satisfied. Removing her clothes, she stood naked, the slight breeze refreshingly cool and unique upon her bare skin. This is what the wind felt like. It could not be seen, only felt.
Matthew saw the Princess look right at him through the trees and held very still. The other women had already gone into the spring, but it was she who made his heart speed. He had not bothered to even glance at the others. She turned her face away, and his eyes stole from the top of her head to her feet. She made him ache. He did not know why.
How he hated her perfection: the perfectly formed body with a waist so small his hands could span it, and her eyes! The heat that had infused his body when he had brushed her skin rose up to the surface again.
So this is what a select could do. He would not have it, and neither would the Band. He would get rid of her, take her back to the sphere or somewhere else. But as he looked upon her form silhouetted in the moonlight, the ache grew in intensity, and it made him more angry, not less. He would wait until they finished then take her with him.
Clara immersed herself in water that was almost too hot for her flesh, much of which was tender from riding a horse and sleeping on the ground. She was still sore from the beatings.
Yet that was fading, and she felt a glimmer of hope. It shimmered just below the surface of her soul, waiting to solidify.
Memories of Charles stole over her slowly, and her mood turned melancholy.
“Clara...” Lillian spoke her name softly.
“
Yes?”
“Because of the way you interacted with Matthew, we know what you are to us.”
Clara stilled in the water, the fragrant soap Lillian had given her a foamy pile atop her head.
“The Evil Ones...” —The Guardians, Clara corrected mentally— “have a prophesy of sorts that speaks of this problem of our people dwindling and then the mingling of a new people. Females who will be our salvation. They will unlock the genetic code for us to begin to live again, have children again.” She touched her belly with reverence.
“You are one of the select, Clara.”
Oh my Guardian, Clara thought. Those words were right out of the book that Stella, Clara's great-great grandmother, had kept safe for the royal family. It was no coincidence that the Guardians had called the people they chose for the spheres the select. But how could these savages know?
“And what does this mean for me? For the Band?”
“Are there others like yourself inside the sphere?” Anna finally entered the conversation.
“There are many females and males as well,” Clara said, confused.
Lillian shook her head. “No, a relation or someone special?”
Clara had many relations, many of them very distant. She told that to Lillian who shrugged. “You may make it known during your negotiation on behalf of our president that this is a wonderful possibility.”
Clara did not think the females of the sphere would be receptive to the savages needing special mates. But she did not say it, not wishing to alienate these females who were working toward a fragile friendship.
Clara relaxed again, using the pause in conversation to rinse off her hair, her breasts tipped to the sky. Wringing the remainder of the water from her hair, she sank down into the warm depths, grateful for the heat that stole the chill she had felt from the air.
Matthew's eyes followed her motions with an abiding hunger.
“Tell us of the sphere.” Anna’s timid voice mingled with the sounds of the forest. They were small but so many it was a background symphony, ebbing and flowing with its own rhythm.
The Death Series, Books 1-3 (Dark Dystopian Paranormal Romance): Death Whispers, Death Speaks, and Death Inception Page 118
