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

by Rebecca P. McCray

  Chapter 12

  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.

  Chapter 13

  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.

  Chapter 14

  “She was a real pretty little redhead, sir ... Your Highness ... Majesty,” the man who owned the little shabby diner explained. He had heard the redhead had escaped the Graeliths the day before and thought it in his best interests, both physically and financially, to inform the Tyrnotts. Little did he expect to be brought before Nord himself! Had he known, he certainly would have worn more proper attire than his old greasy apron and the shoes with the hole in the toe. He scratched his balding head, then rested his hands on his round belly.

  “A Krystic, are you sure?” Nord queried. “They rarely bear the mark and certainly not a female. I fear you are mistaken, old man.” He stared intently at the man, causing the man’s hands to shake.

  The diner owner fiddled nervously with his apron. Tyrnotts weren’t unknown in his part of town, but never before had he seen so many in one room. Each head held thick, jet-black, straight hair, long enough to be brushed back into braids or bands, though some wore the hair loose. Their eyes shone darkly such that he couldn’t distinguish between the pupil and iris, and the pointed ears stood on each side of the head. He observed that not a one displayed eyebrows or any other noticeable body hair besides that on the scalp, which was common among the species. However, the really unnerving part was the deep scar that lined the left half of each face, several of them appearing to be the work of some sort of instrument or even the mark of a Graelith’s claw. Sometimes the marking damaged the left eye and other times ran down the length of the neck. The Tyrnott scarring marked the coming of age. He heard if the boy or girl showed any hesitation, even a flinch, they ripped out the child’s throat.

  He swallowed slowly. “I never saw the mark, as her red hair covered the area behind her left ear, but she left the diner and joined a Liput boy. I work that diner day and night and have for twenty years, and never once has a Krystic entered before. Never once have I seen one on foot in our part of the city. They only dare to venture into the lower district in their fancy day-transports. But a female Krystic, alone and in my part of town on foot? She must bear the mark.” He looked to the other Tyrnotts for confirmation his theory was sound.

  Nord stared at the man for a time, then walked across the room to speak to another Tyrnott. The man didn’t dare to stare at the Tyrnotts, leaving him to glance nervously around the room. The room was well lit, which meant the power here was strong, unlike his part of the city. A number of objects decorated the room that must be priceless treasures. The rumors passing throughout the city often focused on the wealth and power of the Tyrnotts. The diner owner always thought they were exaggerated. Apparently, he was mistaken. As long as the Tyrnotts kept peace in the city, they earned their keep.

  Nord returned, stared for a moment at the man, and said, “Fair enough, old man. Marked or not, she knows the location of the undergrounders. They fought with her against our men.” He walked toward the man, who took one step back only to bump against another Tyrnott standing directly behind him. He looked nervously up at Nord, who said with a strained pleasantness, “Take these coins, my good man. If you see either the Krystic or the Liput again, contact one of my men immediately. Natal will provide you with a communication bracelet,” he added as he nodded to the Tyrnott standing to the man’s left.

  The man took the coins offered him, not daring to count them at this time. He nodded multiple times and stammered, “Yes, sir. If I see them again, I’ll certainly notify you at once. Thank you, sir.”

  Nord dismissed him with a nod and Natal indicated with a wave of his hand that the man should follow him through the door on the side of the room. Natal escorted the man through
the well-lit corridors and provided him with a communication bracelet and instructions before showing him back to the street.

  The man stumbled out into the daylight and the door closed swiftly behind him. Only then did he dare to look at the coins in his hand. He squealed with joy, as it was more than he earned in the diner in a week. He was most fortunate to be in Nord’s good graces. He skipped down the street, determined to identify more of the marked.

  *******

  Natal returned to the chamber and found Nord sitting in his throne-like chair, deep in thought. He knew better than to interrupt Nord’s thoughts, as he still bore scars from his earlier mistakes. He merely stood beside Nord and waited for the man to speak.

  After time passed, Nord stood and turned to Natal. “I want the Krystic.”

  Natal stared at Nord for a moment and, knowing his leader, he asked, “Dead or alive?”

  “Alive,” he cackled with a faraway look in his eyes.

  “And the others?”

  Nord sneered, “Kill them. Marked or not.”

  Natal nodded at the orders and left the room to provide the team leaders with their new instructions. He ensured the streets were heavily guarded this morning, as he guessed these marked ones remained in the city last night. The Liput boy’s injuries were grave, if the Graeliths’ reports were to be believed. Today, the marked ones would seek a healer for the boy and then they would try to escape to the great forest where the marked ones disappeared. A training camp existed in those woods and one day they would find it. One day a marked one would unwittingly lead them to the camp entrance. Until then, destroying the young marked one by one reduced the chances of the Miyran heir reaching the palace. If that day should ever arrive, it would bring an end to the Tyrnott rule and, more than likely, an end to his life. That day must never come.