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

by Rebecca P. McCray

  “You’re good with a weapon,” the boy told Eros, drawing his attention. “You just need practice. I’m Azetan. Glad you found me when you did.”

  Eros introduced himself, stowed his sword, and tried to slow his breathing. He seemed far more winded than the others. Arith approached him and said, “Is this the boy you saw in your dream?”

  Again, Eros nodded, still unable to catch his breath to speak.

  Arith stared at Eros for a long time. “Have you seen any others in your dreams?”

  Eros breathed deeply and nodded. “Yes … sometimes. Most recently, a Plinte girl. Three Graeliths killed her.”

  Arith raised his eyebrows. “When was this?”

  “Last night, when we slept underground. Her skin was light. Her hair was dark and pulled in a tight knot. She wore body armor and fought well, but lacked the strength to contend with three Graeliths. They slit her throat.”

  “Can you remember where this occurred?”

  “A small, dark alley.” Eros closed his eyes trying to envision the dream. “I see writing on the wall. Something about snakes and … rules? Don’t know what that means, though. The top of a brown church steeple with a greenish hue is visible over the wall.”

  “I know this place.” Arith rubbed his chin, as seemed to be his habit when thinking. “A group of Hurfen teenagers that call themselves the Snakes live in the area.”

  Eros recognized the name of the species. Their faces had a smashed-in look and their hair stuck out wildly in all directions. Though they weren’t the smartest of species, he never knew a Hurfen to be cruel.

  The group bid farewell to the warriors and joined back with Lutra and Tip to pick up their gear. Then they headed in the direction of the alley from Eros’s dream with Arith and Eros leading the way, Kenrya right behind them, and Ampal guarding the rear. As they walked, Arith asked Eros, “Are both your parents Human?”

  Eros raised his eyebrows — an odd question. “My mother is Human. I never knew my father and my mother barely spoke of him.”

  Arith pursed his lips, “But your father was Human?”

  His mother never mentioned his father’s species. Eros had always assumed his father was Human. “I don’t know. I suppose it’s possible he might not be.”

  Arith nodded in thought. “Humans are not clairvoyant by nature and would never have witnessed the two Graelith attacks in their dreams. Your father must be from one of the few species with that ability. As a child, did you know any Greots or Raptans?”

  Eros shook his head.

  “Tyrnott?”

  “No!” Eros exclaimed. “Most certainly not!”

  Arith barely seemed to notice Eros’s hostility. “Tyrnotts can sometimes sense feelings when they touch another individual and have been known to dream about real events. I’m not aware of a Human and Tyrnott child, so the result of the genetic mix is unknown; the ability could be different. Hmm ... What about Thelios?”

  Eros hesitated and glanced at Arith. “A Thelios man frequented our village and we often saw him in the marketplace. My mother knew him well. But I look nothing like a Thelios.”

  Arith continued walking and Eros caught up with him. Arith seemed to be processing this information. “The only other species able to see with the mind was the Gaelae, but the species was destroyed and you obviously have no wings. The Thelios is the most reasonable answer.” At Eros’s skeptical look, Arith explained, “I’ve always found genetics fascinating. I studied with an ancient Bruner until the day I started the undergrounders. A child with parents of different species may vary in appearance. A small quantity of Theliosse arrived on the planet, which led them to partner with other species, and their genes are generally recessive to others. Perhaps you inherited his clairvoyance and your mother’s appearance.”

  “Assuming he was my father,” Eros replied sharply. Arith glanced at him again, then looked away without adding comment. Eros suddenly felt a pain in his chest, a darkness crept over him. Could it be that Jbetl, the man for whom his mother always had a warm smile or a moment to speak, was his father?

  After a short pause, Arith continued, “Even more interesting is the genetic structure of a Miyran.”

  Eros pushed memories of Jbetl from his thoughts. “What do you mean?”

  “The Bruner I mentioned was closely linked with Lord Attol and studied under him. Fascinating species. Each heir must mate with a completely different species from any other heir. The single offspring with the gift inherits most of its genes from the Miyran parent, plus the genes of unique traits from the other parent. This serves to increase the power of the Miyrans. Over time, the Miyrans became the equivalent of the best of every species mating with one of the heirs.” Enthusiasm coursed through Arith’s voice as he continued, “I studied the intricate details of each trait and the species from which it was obtained. The Miyran journey across the galaxy resulted in a powerful species, and establishing this world for refugees would allow them to continue. One day I hope to meet Anyamae in person so that I might learn from her. Her experiences must be truly amazing.”

  Puzzled, Eros asked, “But isn’t Anyamae the only remaining heir?”

  “Yes,” Arith replied with a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I understand at one time a dozen existed. Apparently, they live a very long time. However, persecution by other species reduced their numbers and drove them to settle on this planet. You see, an heir may bear many children, but only one of them is blessed with the gift of the Miyran. The other children will inherit a more even mix of genes from each parent, but look more like the non-Miyran parent and possess few, if any, of the advanced skills.” Arith began gesturing grandly. “Here’s the really interesting part. The child that inherits the Miyran abilities will resemble the species of the other, non-Miyran parent until it reaches the age of sixteen. That’s when the Miyran powers began to surface and the child transforms over time to look like a Miyran heir.” He rubbed his hands together. “Amazing, really.”

  Eros chuckled at Arith’s excitement. His mother must not have known about the Miyrans, as surely she would have told him. That may be why Arith thought Anyamae might use the mark to bring the heir to her. If the heir looked like the non-Miyran parent, he or she could be raised in any community without being identified … at least until the age of sixteen when the Miyran genes began to surface. Curious. Was there any truth to it?

  They arrived at the alley from Eros’s earlier dream. Lying just as Eros had envisioned was the Plinte girl. Arith reached down and rolled the girl over, then gasped. He stood quickly, turned toward the others, and raised his arms. “Everyone stay back.” Unfortunately, this had the opposite effect, as the group seemed curious to see if Eros’s dream was again real.

  As Ampal neared the girl, Arith tried to push him back. But Ampal’s strength was greater than Arith’s and he easily pushed him aside. Then he expelled a cry of anguish.

  “Ishta!” Ampal fell on his knees beside the dead girl. He caressed her cheek and then cradled her in his arms.

  Eros looked questioningly at Arith, who said quietly, “Ampal’s baby sister. She celebrated her sixteenth birthday recently.” He shook his head and knelt respectfully beside his friend. The others followed his lead and dropped to their knees, except for Azetan, who stood watch at the entrance to the alley.

  Chapter 22

  Eros discussed several options for splitting the group with Arith and Kenrya. The party of marked ones needed to reach the western edge of the city. Yet, Ampal required assistance returning to the underground, since it was well after curfew, and the underground was impossible to navigate in this part of the city. The nearest underground entrance to a usable section was a good distance away. Furthermore, if the undergrounders left Ishta’s body to escort the marked ones, the Graeliths would likely dispose of it prior to their return. Eros insisted the group of marked ones could manage on their own and, fortunately, he and Kenrya were both in agreement that Arith and Lutra should accompany Ampal.

  Arith i
nstructed Eros and the others to travel to the training camp in the deep forest west of the city. He provided a general description of the terrain they would encounter and the landmarks they should seek. The entrance to the camp lay hidden in an area deep in the forest where light never penetrated. Arith knew nothing more. Eros listened carefully, committing the information to memory.

  Arith, Ampal, and Lutra agreed they would first return to the underground. Then Arith and a few others would accompany Ampal to Banston, a few days southwest of Caldot on the road to Kullac. The Plintes possessed significant skill in designing weaponry, as well as artistic wares, and the Banston area afforded them convenient access to the marketplace.

  Arith removed smaller bags from his and Lutra’s packs and left the larger packs full of supplies for the journey. Lutra discreetly collected Ishta’s two swords while Ampal wrapped his sister’s body in a blanket, then gathered her into his arms for the journey back to the underground. As Arith, Lutra, and Ampal bade farewell to the others, Eros approached Ampal and said quietly, “Sorry about Ishta. I should have told you sooner. I wish ...”

  “Eros,” Ampal replied with a half-hearted smile. “This isn’t your fault. Besides, we would never have recovered her body if not for you. The Graeliths dispose of bodies quickly. I would guess the only reason they didn’t already is because this area is secluded and she was unlikely to be found by anyone. We will honor her now, rather than spend our lives wondering what had happened to her.” He paused for a moment, then continued, “Did she fight well? This would bring even more honor to her death.”

  Eros said without hesitation, “She fought bravely against three Graeliths. She severed the hand of one over there.” He pointed toward the far corner of the alley.

  Arith overheard this and walked to the spot where Eros pointed. After searching the area briefly, Arith pulled a piece of cloth from his bag and collected something from the ground, wrapping it fully before placing it back in his pack. He looked at Ampal and nodded.

  Ampal turned back to Eros. “Thank you.”

  Arith hugged Kenrya, which she surprisingly returned, and then walked with Ampal and Lutra down the alleyway and out of sight.

  The marked ones watched the undergrounders leave, then Kenrya turned toward the others. When no one spoke, she picked up her pack and slipped it over her shoulders. “We need to start moving. The Graeliths undoubtedly learned of the fight and will be searching for us.” She asked Azetan, “Do you know these streets? One can easily become lost among them.”

  Azetan shook his head, “No. I know the area to the southwest of the marketplace, not these streets.”

  Kenrya pursed her lips. “I’ve traveled among the main streets here, but not the alleyways. We need the protection they provide to reach the western border of the city.”

  Azetan and Eros put their smaller bags into the packs Arith left behind and loaded the larger packs onto their backs. Prizene attached the large coil of rope to her bag, redistributing the weight among them. The group of five walked to the end of the alleyway and considered their options — left or right? After a few seconds, Kenrya turned to the group. “Let’s go left,” she declared, and headed off in that direction.

  “Wait,” Eros called and Kenrya stopped. “The sky is clear tonight and the moon full. If we can find it, the moon will guide us in the right direction.”

  Everyone looked at the sky. The high walls lining the alleys, as well as the even taller buildings beyond them, hid the moon from sight. They shifted around the small area in an attempt to locate the moon. Kenrya placed her hands on her hips. “We need a better vantage point. The walls are too high here. Can you really determine the right direction from the moon?”

  Eros shrugged. “It’s spring, which means the moon on this side of Zolei will be visible just to the southwest. The other moon rotates faster, but now is visible only in the early morning. Now, if we waited a few weeks, then we could see —”

  “Eros!” she interrupted, holding up her hand. “I got it.”

  Azetan winked at Eros. Kenrya walked to an old darkened lamppost down the street. When the province thrived, these lamps would have been lit at night, but not now. She removed her larger pack and her vest, keeping the smaller pack on her back, and scaled the post without much difficulty. Once she reached about twelve feet, she stopped climbing. She pointed the moon’s direction to Eros. As she started to climb down, Eros saw her pause and stare in the opposite direction. She was straining to see something. Her shoulders sagged slightly. She whispered, “A group of Graeliths and Tyrnotts with electric torches discovered the location of the earlier fight when we found Azetan. And another group of Graeliths and Tyrnotts are closer, moving through an alleyway.” As she shifted her weight to climb down, she knocked a loose ornament from the old lamppost, which clattered to the ground. Before she could move, a beam of light landed on her and Eros heard someone reporting her location to the others. Kenrya jumped to the ground and grabbed her belongings.

  “They saw me! We have to move — now!” she exclaimed. “Which way?”

  “This way,” Eros whispered, pointing in the opposite direction. “Follow me and keep an eye on the moon!”

  Eros took off running down the length of the street. They needed the protection of the alleyways, yet he didn’t know which one to choose. The Graeliths and Tyrnotts pursued them with little effort at discretion. Tip spotted the moon and pointed its direction to Eros. Eros gained his bearings and chose the alleyway to the right. They took several turns, always trying to keep the moon in sight. However, the moon failed to prevent them from turning into dead ends. Eros’s mind began to race through alternatives and his heart pounded as turn after turn led them down another blocked path. The others were relying on him and he was failing miserably. The next turn led them to a little plaza with six other alleyways leading in different directions.

  Eros threw his arms up in exasperation. “How can we possibly find our way?”

  The others looked either frustrated or frightened, neither of which helped their situation. Eros wandered around the plaza. Which way should I pick? Then he heard the Graelith, a tracker. The trackers came first and would signal the others. The Graelith rounded the corner of the alleyway and stood not twenty yards from the group. He held his arm to his mouth and spoke into a communicator, relaying their position. He made no effort to move closer, as he would wait for reinforcements.

  Eros looked at the others, who all looked to him. He stared at the moon and then closed his eyes. Someone help me. He was about to take the path to the west, when he heard a whisper: “Hey. Over here!”

  Eros opened his eyes and sought the sound of the voice. In the alleyway to the north lurked a Hurfen teenager not much older than he. The boy motioned Eros and the others toward him.

  As they neared him, Prizene gushed, “I know you. You served me in the little diner in the south. We’re lost and the Graeliths are after us. Can you help us find the western edge of the city?”

  The boy beamed with pleasure. “I didn’t think you’d remember me! I know these streets well. This way.” He gestured for them to follow. “I’m Jurf, by the way.”

  The Graelith tracking them started moving in their direction, so they picked up the pace. With Jurf leading the group, they hesitated only once or twice at a junction while he gained his bearings. After an hour of turn after turn, they had clearly lost the Graelith and were deep within the maze of alleys. Tip, clutching his side, asked if they could rest. Jurf suggested they climb a building’s outside ladder to rest on the roof of the three-story building. This not only limited the chances of being discovered, but would afford them a view of the area to determine the whereabouts of their pursuers. All agreed and one by one they climbed to the safety of the rooftop.

  While packs were removed, Jurf surveyed the perimeter, moving slowly in a hunched position around the edge of the rooftop. He returned to the group with good news: “The alleys are empty. No one walks here.”

  Prizene int
roduced herself and the others to Jurf, as they all hunkered down to rest. Tip rested on his good side with his head on his pack. The others agreed they would alternate as lookouts, with Eros and Kenrya taking first watch on opposite sides of the building.

  “Thank you for helping us,” Prizene said quietly to Jurf. “We never would have found a way through the alleys so quickly.”

  Jurf returned a goofy grin and shrugged. “It was easy. I’ve lived here all my life and we used to play games. I was always good at hiding and not being found.”

  Prizene placed her hand on his arm when she said, “You are risking your life. You know that? If the Tyrnotts or Graeliths find out you helped us, they’ll kill you.”

  “I never liked Tyrnotts or Graeliths anyway,” Jurf replied with a disgusted look on his face. “A Tyrnott kidnapped my sister a few years ago. She was only eleven. We were playing in the alleys. The Tyrnott crept up behind us and grabbed her. I told him ‘no’ but he punched me and I fell down some stairs. He held her under his arm and carried her away. I started to run after him, but couldn’t keep up. My mother heard me yelling and came running in time to see the Tyrnott climb into a transport with my sister, who was fighting and screaming. As the transport left, we could see her through the window. She was crying, begging for help. We never saw her again.”

  “What do you think happened to her?” Prizene asked, eyes wide with horror.

  “Don’t know,” Jurf said, his shoulders slouched, and shrugged. “No one does. The Tyrnotts steal girls sometimes. Most people don’t know that and no one believed us at first, though we found others who lost a sibling or child. The girls never return. Maybe they’re tortured or killed.” He stopped then and closed his eyes. Prizene watched him clench his jaw and squeeze his eyes before opening them again. “I hate Tyrnotts! I wish I could join the Miyran warriors. I want to fight, but no one will tell me how to join. Can I go with you?”

  “I’m sorry, no,” Azetan replied. “Only those marked by Anyamae can join the Miyran warriors. My cousin’s sixteenth birthday passed without the mark showing and he tried to join. He traveled as far as the wetlands before warriors found him and sent him home. I was told many unmarked Plintes joined back during the Graelith battles when more fighters were needed, but not now.”