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

by Rebecca P. McCray

  She dropped the container and ran to the boy’s side. He collapsed against her and she slowly lowered him to the ground. She needed to slow the bleeding, but she didn’t have anything useful in her pack. What could she do?

  “Put pressure on the wound!” someone yelled.

  With her hands, she applied as much force as she could. The boy winced. She looked at the on-going scuffle. One of the fighters was stealing glances in her direction. He nodded curtly at her, as an indication she was doing the right thing. He was massive, standing nearly as tall as the Graelith he was fighting and was a little overweight. He must be a daunting adversary.

  In the next few minutes, one of the fighters inflicted a severe wound on one of the Graeliths. The four conscious Graeliths edged away from the fighters and retreated from the square. The fighters checked on their unconscious companion and each other, except for the large one. He walked directly toward Prizene and the boy.

  Chapter 10

  As they made their way through the dimly lit underground passage, Eros kept his eyes on the girl. She walked like a man, at least like the men in his settlement. What had his mother told him about Arlian women? Or perhaps it was one of the traders that had traveled extensively? Yes, it was one of the traders who had told him something about Arlian women. He had said they were unusual. That was it. But in that one word the shifty trader, who was notorious for his romantic escapades, had conveyed an intriguing thought. Now Eros analyzed the girl again, scanning her up and down. He guessed her clothing covered whatever the trader had meant. Well, given the smell, he was unlikely to see for himself, despite her attractiveness. As he doubted bathing facilities were available in the underground, he pushed the thought from his mind.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Does it matter?” she returned without bothering to look at him.

  Ouch! She sounded angry. He tried again: “My name is Eros. Thanks for helping me back there.”

  “Right. Whatever.”

  “I owe you my life, so ...”

  She turned abruptly, her face not inches from his, and said firmly, “Stop talking. Do you want the Graeliths to find us?” She rolled her eyes, shook her head, turned back, and continued walking.

  He looked down and followed. Her large, black boots had a thick sole and buckles clasped the length of the boot. They made squishing noises with every step. She wore the full, lightweight pants common in the city, but she tucked the pant legs into the boots. As the pant legs were flared and could interfere with quick movements, this seemed quite sensible. Yet they struck him as rather comical, though he couldn’t exactly say why. They were likely red at one time, but the color had faded and dulled with dirt to a grim, rusty hue. A flowing shirt was generally worn with pants of that style. Instead, she wore a tight, long-sleeved, black top of a soft-looking, bulky material. Over this, she wore what appeared to be a small bag, and on top of that, a full, calf-length black leather vest, which was equally worn-looking and had small rips around the bottom. What a strange combination of clothes. Over the vest, she carried a larger, dark bag. What did she carry around the city? The bag appeared to be as full and heavy as his. He lifted his shoulders and shifted the weight to his other side.

  They continued through the tunnels in silence. The girl must have spent considerable time in the underground, since she never hesitated at a junction. Eros tried to keep track of their location, based on his memory of the city’s layout and the few glimpses of buildings and streets through the overhead grates they passed. They were probably still on the south side of the city, the poorer section, evidenced by the lack of transport noises filtering down to the passageways. At one time, city transports provided regular and quick travel all over the city, as well as to the outbound regions. However, as the city degraded and the power resources became more scarce, transports traveled less frequently, particularly in less wealthy sectors.

  As they turned the next corner, Eros heard voices. He strained to listen, to separate voices from the city above from voices in the underground. While he was uncertain as to the source of the voices, they grew louder with each turn. Within minutes, they were close enough to distinguish angry shouts. He assumed — hoped, even — that the girl would turn away from these angry undergrounders, but she continued onward.

  They turned right and a flickering light shone ahead, light that wasn’t from the streets above. In this region of the underground, openings to the city were scarce, so any sounds they heard were from below ground. The end of the passage opened into a larger space toward which they now walked. As they reached it, she slowed down and paused, looking around. Eros joined her and peered into the great, cavernous space. The floor dropped ten feet below them, creating a dwelling nearly eighteen feet in height. Eros gauged the dimensions to be roughly thirty feet in each direction. In all his visits to the city, he had never ventured into the underground and was amazed to realize such large spaces existed, completely hidden from view.

  He scanned the vast room, guessing there to be twenty or more beings engaged in a tense argument over something. Two men stood not a foot from one another and yelled loudly without stopping to listen to each other’s words. One of the two was startlingly tall and hulking, with equal parts fat and muscle. Given the size, the bald head, and the multitude of body paintings, Eros recognized the species as Skurk. The female Skurks were built similarly, though they generally had short hair. More than one of the group belonged to this imposing species. The second leader was shorter, though extremely fit and well-toned. Eros failed to recognize the species because his view was partially obscured by one of the other Skurks in the group. As the two argued, they frequently pointed toward the wall to Eros’s right. He leaned forward for a better view. Against the wall sat two individuals. The boy was Liput, as was easily discerned by his slight build and fluffy hair with colored tips. He held his side with a bloodied hand, his ghost-white pallor a tell-tale sign that he would soon faint without treatment. Eros tried to make out the second individual against the wall. His efforts were in vain, since the crowd began moving towards the side where they stood, blocking his view.

  “What happened?” the girl asked as she climbed down the wall ladder.

  The Skurk, with his loud, booming voice, spoke first. “Hunted by Graeliths. Foolish kids think they can find protection in the city. The boy there was wandering around like he was lost in a fairy tale.”

  “Now, Lutra, don’t be too harsh,” the other leader began. “Although they were caught by the Graeliths’ trap, you have to respect their efforts to break free.”

  Lutra grunted, “I still say we should seek treatment for the boy tonight. Staying here doesn’t make sense. Healing his wounds and sending them toward the camp is standard protocol. The longer they stay here, the greater the risk that they’re discovered. You know that.”

  Eros followed the girl down the ladder and now recognized the second leader as a Bruner, indicated by the frizzy poof of six-inch hair and forehead ridges. They were generally a peaceful sort with great intelligence, though in Eros’s experience, the range of these traits did vary considerably.

  “A risk it may be,” the girl interjected, “but the boy is badly injured and we may not find a medic this late.” She went to the boy’s side and moved his hand allowing her to examine his wounds. The boy flinched and anguish showed on his face, though to his credit, he made not a sound. “Bring me bandages and oil,” she ordered another in the group. “I can at least slow the bleeding.”

  “We’ll find a medic at first light,” the Bruner agreed. “Bring Kenrya medical supplies.”

  Lutra grunted again. “Very well,” he conceded. He stared at Kenrya a moment too long, then turned away, shaking his head. Eros was uncertain as to whether the Skurk’s expression was one of admiration or irritation. Either way, the argument seemed to be settled.

  The group dispersed around the room and quiet conversations began. The Bruner joined Kenrya. “How bad are the wounds?” he asked.


  “They run deep. The oil will stop the bleeding for now, but we must find a medic who can better heal the wounds.” She poured medical oil over the wounds without hesitation or sympathy at the boy’s gasps. She grabbed his face. “Be quiet. If you are to challenge a Graelith, you must suffer the consequences.” She wrapped his wounds tightly, ignoring his obvious pain.

  Eros watched the girl’s harsh treatment of the Liput boy. Kenrya was the name she had denied sharing earlier. She obviously carried authority with this group. Why would they live in the underground? And why would have they have such a large number of weapons lining the walls and shelves?

  Eros turned then to look at the second individual sitting against the wall and the wind rushed from his lungs. The girl bore the mark of the Krystic on her forehead, a curvy, golden design which naturally appeared on all females of the species at their coming of age. Fiery red curls were piled loosely on her head and framed an absolutely stunning face. Her characteristically white skin shone in the underground, as though illuminated by an unnatural source of light. She turned her bright blue eyes toward him and Eros braced his hand against the wall for support. He had observed Krystics at a distance before, but his mother always led him away from close contact with one. While his mother had warned him of their false charms and tricks, she had clearly hid the truth of their beauty. Eros forced himself to breathe deeply and blink his eyes, as his mother had taught him. As a result, he broke their eye contact and turned his attention back to the Liput boy.

  Kenrya finished bandaging the boy’s wounds and went to rinse her hands under a small pipe on the far wall that trickled water. The Bruner turned to Eros, “I’m Arith. And you are …?”

  “Eros from the forest of Kullac, in the most distant sector,” Eros replied and sat next to the others.

  Arith motioned toward the others and introduced them, “This is Prizene and Tip.” Arith observed Eros carefully. “You seem to have encountered some difficulties of your own.” He jutted his chin toward the scratches on Eros’s arm where the Graelith had nicked skin, as well as the bruise forming on Eros’s chin where the Graelith had landed a solid blow.

  “I can manage,” Eros pulled his sleeves down and brushed aside any concern with a flick of his hand. “What happened?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the Liput.

  “I was in a diner and spotted two Graeliths tracking him outside,” Prizene replied. She carelessly brushed a wispy strand of hair out of her face and swiveled to face Arith and Eros. “He seemed unaware of them and I thought the respectable course of action was to warn him he was being followed, so I started after him.”

  As Eros stared at Prizene, he had to remind himself to breathe. Already, the reaction had lessened. A little more practice and he would be in control.

  Prizene looked at Tip. “He stopped to talk to a street vendor and I maneuvered around the Graeliths to reach him.” Tip seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. She paused for a moment and then continued the story.

  Several of the males in the group gathered and were entranced with the Krystic’s telling of the story. As Eros watched them inching closer, he wondered if maybe he should teach them how to break the spell. The Plintes in the group, another of the outbound species, were listening, but didn’t appear to be affected by Prizene. The Plintes were a mighty race of warriors with high foreheads, upturned eyes, and breathing slits at their neck that allowed them to breathe underwater. Perhaps they already knew the trick. He turned back to Tip. How would a Liput react to a female Krystic? They were somewhat naive, after all. Of course! While the Liput grow physically at a rate similar to Humans, they don’t become interested in girls until an older age. His mother mentioned that one fall after the great harvest. Tip would probably only fall for the Krystic charm if Prizene intentionally tried to sway him.

  Still, Prizene’s compassion surprised him. Krystics weren’t well known for such selfless generosity. They kept to themselves in their large dwellings on the north side of Caldot and rarely lifted a hand to help others. Eros waited for Prizene to pause before he said, “But the Graeliths were after him.” He motioned toward Tip. “Why not just run away?”

  Prizene gazed into Eros’s eyes and batted her own. Then, she simply shrugged and Eros heard audible sighs from the group around them. Why would this Krystic risk her life for a Liput boy she didn’t know?

  “I’m not sure how the Graeliths managed to follow us through the marketplace,” she said, pushing her hair out of her face.

  “Their tracking skills are legendary,” Arith said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Though I am surprised they chased you so blatantly. They must have known he was marked.”

  “Or guessed,” Eros added. “Liputs rarely travel to the city and generally only for the great harvest when the seasons grow cold. A lone Liput boy venturing into the city in springtime? The Graeliths were wise to assume he was marked.”

  Prizene nodded. “He obviously doesn’t belong in the city.” She turned her eyes toward Tip, then closed them and shook her head. “I should have been more careful. I recognized he knew nothing of the city, but I was careless enough to tell him of the Graeliths without first advising him as to his actions. I should have known he would turn to see them. Being followed by Graeliths is frightening.”

  Arith patted her leg. “Don’t hold yourself responsible. You cannot judge how another will react. You can only hope to guide and advise.”

  Prizene beamed at Arith, who seemed to not be fazed by her beauty. “Lucky for us, Lutra and the others came to our aid in the square.”

  Arith scratched his chin and adjusted the cloth tied around his head that held his mass of frizzy locks out of his face. “That square provides easy access to the underground. I don’t think the Graeliths had ever ventured to the square and likely didn’t know it was there. Until today, we considered it a safe haven within the city. Fortunately, Lutra and some of the others were following the Graeliths from the marketplace, as we try to counteract their hunts, if possible.”

  Eros snapped his head toward Arith. “You are those that fight to protect the marked and other Miyran supporters from the Graeliths? My mother always spoke highly of you and your efforts to aid the innocent when warriors aren’t at hand.”

  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?

  Chapter 11

  The girl raced swiftly through the darkened street. She wore sturd
y 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.