Veiled Planet (Hidden World Trilogy Book 1)

by Teagan Kearney

  He studied her, his eyes half shut and glinting gold in the flickering light. “Those are the titles we give to a man and a woman who have joined their lives together. Does it disturb you?”

  "What do you think?" She lay down on her side, using her arm as a pillow. "I'm going to sleep. It's been a long day and I'm tired." The fragrant scent of the sweetwood filled the cave as the wood hissed and crackled. "Don't worry, I'll play whatever game I have to tomorrow to keep Yleni and the boys safe." Since she and Ikeya crossed paths, she'd allowed things to happen to her. Others had made the decisions without consulting her. Currently, events were careering even more out of her control. She'd do whatever was necessary to stay alive, even consent to this ridiculous partnership, because she wouldn't be responsible for the deaths that would otherwise result. Tomorrow was just another day, even if she pretended to commit herself to a puffed-up tribesman in a public ceremony. The Marut ritual had no meaning for her; the important issue to concentrate on was returning home in one piece and getting her life back.

  "This isn't a game for me," he told her, his voice low.

  She heard him, but she didn't care anymore, and was too tired to argue. Besides, what was the point? It wouldn't change anything. This lesson was harder than the one Miklo had taught her, and was the second time trusting her emotions had led to disillusionment. She'd thought she was safe with Rishi, thought he was offering friendship. Was this the type of experience her father meant when he talked about learning from life outside the classroom?

  Rishi stretched out, settling the long lines of his body into a comfortable position. "I promise I'll make this up to you," he said.

  She didn't answer but lay with her mind churning, listening to the sizzle of the wood, and watching the shadows leap and dance on the cave wall.

  The next thing she knew, someone pressed a strong-smelling cloth over her nose and mouth. Her eyes snapped open as shadowy figures moved in the dark. She struggled, panicking, and tried to cry out and warn Rishi, but a hand shoved her back, pressing the cloth forcibly against her face. Clamping her lips together, she held her breath as long as she could, but strong fumes slid up her nose and down into her lungs. Her chest constricted and her throat closed. Her breath came in uneven gasps and she slid into a black hole.

  When she came to, her head throbbed as if someone had hit her with a hammer. She tried to move but her hands and feet were tied; she lay on something that felt like the floor of a moving cart, and pain lanced through her head with every jolt. She winced as she squinted at the faint dawn light, twisted her head and saw Rishi stretched out unconscious beside her. What in the universe was going on? Wriggling this way and that, she attempted to sit up, but a wave of nausea struck, and she fell backward.

  A figure rose in front of her.

  She shrank back.

  The tribesman, the lower half of his face covered, grabbed her chin and forced the stinking rag over her face for a second time. Her mind fought but her body was helpless, and she fell into darkness for a second time. She gained consciousness briefly, vaguely aware of a sensation of swinging and falling, the air cold on her skin, then the blackness descended once more.

  Kara woke in darkness. The lack of motion told her she was no longer on the cart. Instead she lay shivering on a cold metal surface and needing to move before she developed hypothermia—a tad difficult as she was still tied up. She shifted, and bumped against something warm. Rishi! Relief washed through her at the feel of him at her side. She managed to sit up, but a wave of nausea hit. Putting her head between her knees, she waited for it to pass. "Rishi!" Her throat was raw, and her voice thin and reedy.

  He groaned.

  "Wake up!" She nudged him. "Come on, untie me." Her eyes had adjusted and she made out the darker mass of his shape in the surrounding gloom. He lay on his side, facing away from her. They must have given him a heavier dose of that vile stuff to make sure he stayed unconscious. She wriggled her wrists to loosen the ropes, but without success. She had no idea if or when their kidnappers would return. This might be their only chance.

  "Rishi?" Desperation tinged her voice. It was hard to believe the tribesmen had gone against Ikeya and kidnapped them. She, the foreign devil, had to be the reason, and in their eyes, Rishi was inextricably linked to her. She couldn't hear a single sound. Absolute silence. She shuffled along the floor, trying to explore, but with her hands and feet tied and jarring pains jolting through every part of her anatomy, it was difficult. This had to a nightmare. If only she could wake up.

  Rishi groaned. "My head," he mumbled.

  "Move slowly or else you'll throw up." She wriggled over to him. Thank the stars they'd tied her hands in front of her. "Hold up your hands and I'll try to untie you."

  "I remember going to sleep," he moaned as he lifted his hands toward her.

  "It passes." She pulled and worked at the thick ropes around his wrists till her fingers were sore and she'd broken several nails. Eventually his bindings came loose enough to slip off. "Now mine," she ordered.

  With hands and feet soon free, the blood returning to her extremities was excruciating, and they sat for a few minutes massaging their hands and feet.

  The main thing was she was alive—and that meant hope. "What is the punishment for kidnapping among the Maruts?"

  "The same one they were prepared to give us. Abandonment."

  That, thought Kara, is a sure death. How quick she might find out sooner than she wished to know.

  They examined their prison, first on hands and knees because they’d be less likely to throw up, and then on weak shaky legs. It didn't take long to discover the boundaries of their jail. Smooth circular walls that went up beyond their reach in a space where they had barely enough room to lie down and stretch.

  "I know where we are," Rishi struggled to keep the despondency out of his voice.

  "That's a good start. Tell me, and we can figure a way out of here." Logical. Her ancestors were a spacefaring species, and spacefarers are logical, she comforted herself.

  "We're at the bottom of a disused well."

  Chapter Twelve: Complications

  Marut Proverb:

  Faith, that when you put one foot in front of the other

  you are making progress, is vital if you want to achieve your goal.

  At first she didn't understand what he meant. Then her stomach flipped and she couldn’t get sufficient air into her lungs. She swayed, bumping into Rishi, using his body to steady herself. His arms enfolded her and he pulled her to his chest. She breathed in his solid warmth, and it felt good to lean up against him as her breathing returned to normal. Keep it together, idiot, she told herself. "Who kidnapped us? And that stuff they used to knock us out? It was disgusting."

  Rishi remained silent.

  By now, she understood him well enough to know that despite his flares of temper, he considered a problem from every angle before making a decision.

  "That stuff is an herb, inikfi. In little doses, well, you’ve experienced how potent it is—in large doses it kills. Whoever did this defied Ikeya. He is the leader we are sworn to follow—no matter what."

  She looked up at him and saw the faint outline of his jaw. She squinted up further, and, yes, there high above, she spotted a tiny crack of light. "Look." She pointed upward.

  They both stared up at the tiny sliver of light striping the upper walls in silvered gray.

  "Either they are careless or we have a friend," he said. "Come, we must try to escape while we still have some strength. The longer we wait, the weaker we will become." He bent, fingers groping where the floor met the sides of the well.

  "What are you doing?" Kara asked. "I can help. Are we looking for a button to open an escape hatch?" Even in the gloomy light, she saw he wasn’t amused. "Okay, just trying to keep up my spirits. Tell me what we're looking for."

  "Small openings. About a handspan wide. They allow the water to flood in and fill the well."

  She swallowed. "Water?"

 
"Yes, I told you this is a well, and although it is dry now, there are channels connecting it to the water deeper underground."

  "Yes, I get the idea," she snapped at him, disturbed by the information. Death by drowning wasn't something she'd ever envisioned happening to her.

  He smiled. "Wait till you see the ocean." His eyes shone, and he bent and kissed her.

  At first, she surrendered. Then, as the memory of their last conversation with Ikeya flooded back, she shoved him hard in the chest. "Stop that! This is all your fault. Everything."

  "But we are joined, and that makes you my wife."

  His eyes twinkled, and even in the gloom, she saw the broad smile on his face. "Oh, no, I’m not. Or have you forgotten the matter of a ceremony, exchanging vows in front of the Elders. Remember?"

  He came toward her, grinning. She stepped backward, until she bumped into the smooth metal walls.

  "A minor detail, gradhaig. You gave your word to the Shanwatah, and that made our relationship official. The ceremony is a merely a formality that allows the tribe to publicly celebrate a couple's coming together."

  "Back off, Rishi. I haven't forgiven you. Stay the hell away from me!"

  His expression became serious. "That is difficult here, but you’re correct. This is not the time or place." He glanced upward. "The sun is rising—it’s getting lighter. Look for those holes, and don't worry, wells that dry up aren't replenished until after the storm season, and that's not for a few months yet. At least we are safe from that danger," he added as an afterthought.

  Good to know we’ll die from starvation and dehydration instead of drowning, Kara thought as she bent and copied Rishi searching for an opening. For the moment she’d lock down her emotions, after all, they had to work together if they were going to get out of this mess. She would deal with this thing between them, whatever it was, once they were safe.

  They located the holes, which were wide and deep enough for a hand or a foot to fit in, and possessed a small lip for gripping. There were several sets of four outlets, around the base. Rishi pointed and her eyes followed. There, comfortably within reach of his outstretched fingertips was another set of four openings. The sets continued up as far as she could see.

  This offered a way out, and she knew how adept Rishi was at climbing. “You don’t happen to have those stakes you used to climb when we ran from the kallin pack, do you?”

  “No. That time we were prepared.” He studied the walls.

  “We’re climbing out, then?” Kara thought even Rishi might have trouble scrambling from one set to another using just his fingertips. But while they were alive, there was hope. If they made it out, their difficulties were only beginning: finding water, food and shelter in the vast desert would come after they got out of this well. Nonetheless she'd be happy to face those challenges, because staying here meant a slow painful death.

  "We don't know if they're coming back or have left us here to die," Rishi said.

  She looked at him. Did the mind speaking thing mean he could read her thoughts as well? "But they're not very clever, are they? Or you were right, and we have an ally. Someone who had to go along with the plan but…" she didn't finish the sentence. “I didn’t think anyone hated me that much they were prepared to kill us."

  "This is well planned. If it was a small group who wanted to express their disagreement with the majority, after the Summer Meet, they would have allowed them to break away and form a new clan. If the new one does not follow the old ways, the other tribes combine and hunt them."

  "And if they catch them, then what?"

  “Not if, when.” He grimaced. "The men are killed and the women and children parceled out among the tribes."

  "I see," was all she could say in response. It appeared the Maruts tolerated no dissension among their ranks. Not promising for future relationships between the two races. Time to change the subject. "Right. How do we tackle this?" She indicated the polished smooth walls with a negligent wave.

  "With a great deal of luck," he answered studying the wall. "How good are you at climbing?" he asked before proceeding to explain the method they would have to adopt to escape.

  She stopped searching for the gaps and stared at him in disbelief, unable to picture how she would accomplish what he described.

  "Take your boots off." He removed his, stuffing them inside his shirt. "Feet are more sensitive." Taking off his jerkin, he pulled his knife out of his waistband, and used it to cut the material into thin strips. After tying the pieces, into a longer strip, he created a rope long enough to tie them together. He knotted the line around his waist and under her arms. "It’s satyr hide, that means it’s strong enough to hold. Let's hope there's adequate slack."

  “Are we going to die here?” She asked the question calmly, though she sounded like a lost child.

  Rishi’s eyes softened, and he pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on her head for a minute. “No, gradhaig. We are not going to die here. We are going to climb that wall, find Ikeya, and live a long happy life together. Nothing will stop us.”

  At that moment she felt as if she’d come home. She was safe. Rishi would keep all the big bad dangers she didn’t know about away from her. She wasn’t sure about the long happy life together part, but she wouldn’t give him any grief over it right now.

  He released her, turned around, stuck a hand into a hole, and started climbing.

  Kara had little choice as he pulled her with him. The following two hours were the longest in her life.

  Rishi stretched one hand into the next space above, looping the cord around his other hand before pulling himself up. On his word, they were supposed to move together—her fingers fitting into the space his foot had just left, repeating the pattern till they reached the top. The rope was barely long enough to stretch between them after he'd moved and before she climbed into the space he'd vacated. They established a rhythm, and the repetitious routine worked as they crept up the slick smooth walls of the well.

  “How is your leg holding up?”

  Rishi’s question disturbed her concentration, and her hand groped the smooth sides of the wall for a second or two before she found the next hole. The scars felt sore as the skin around them stretched each time her leg muscles bunched, and her ankle wobbled occasionally as it took her weight between one step and another. “Absolutely fine. Stop asking me about it.”

  No matter how hard she tried, though, Kara's imagination sporadically went into overdrive, and fear of losing her balance created images of swinging outwards, with Rishi unable to brace himself, losing his grip, and both falling to their deaths.

  The reality was, more than once at the change-over point, after taking his foot out of a hole, Rishi paused as he searched for the next hole. If he didn’t find it immediately, he stuck his foot back in the space he’d just vacated, but where she had already put her hand. Her outraged yell let him know he was standing on her fingers. Then she waited, not moving a muscle, pressing herself flat against the metal wall, muttering ‘I will not die here, I will not die here,’ over and over under her breath until Rishi moved up.

  By the time they were halfway up, Kara's fingers and toes were raw, and the muscles in her arms and legs burned and trembled uncontrollably. Rishi slowed the pace to a crawl, but insisted they keep moving when the one thing she wanted to do was rest.

  "Can't we stop for a minute?" She tried not to beg.

  "Stopping won't help," he told her, his voice dry and harsh. "The longer it takes, the weaker we'll get. Don't think, just focus on the next hole for your hand or foot."

  Easy for him to say, she thought, glancing up at the sunlight blazing through the crack at the rim. This whole mess is his fault in the first place. That thought fueled her anger and powered her legs for a good while.

  Three quarters of the way up and with sweat dripping into her eyes, the world had narrowed to her next breath, the next hand and foot holes. As the sun rose, the temperature inside the well increased. Hot dust tickled th
eir noses, and the air seared any moisture left in their nostrils and mouths. Dust motes danced in the sunlight. The only sound was the short gasping pant of their lungs.

  Twice in the last stretch, she missed her footing, hands slipping, and screamed as she swung out from the wall. Each time, Rishi held the leather rope in a viselike grip, till her backward and forward swing eased, and her scrabbling fingers regained the outlet's upraised edge. By which time his breath came in hard gasps, his muscles were strained to tearing, and his bones practically jumping out of their sockets. Then she remained with her face and body squeezed against the wall, mumbling her mantra until Rishi urged her onward.

  As they neared their goal, she noticed several lines of holes around the sides, but they stopped some distance from the top. She had to admit Rishi was clever, because the line he'd chosen brought them right up and under the opening. Rishi would have to hold on with one arm and use the other to move aside the slab covering the well.

  They reached the top, and after a few minutes her trembling eased a fraction. She concentrated her efforts on maintaining her hold, pushing all thoughts of falling out of her head.

  Rishi braced himself with care, and with a great heave inched aside the stone blockading their escape. He didn't have to shift it far to create a big enough gap to squeeze through. Then he was up and out, pulling her into the blazing desert sun.

  Chapter Thirteen: Shelter

  Marut Proverb:

  A strong heart provides shelter against adversity.

  Dehydrated, their pupils lancing with sudden pain from the brilliance of the morning sun after the dimness of their prison, Kara and Rishi staggered a few steps before collapsing onto the baking sand.

  “Untie the rope,” he rasped, thirst making his voice rough. “We have to move.”

  Despite her exhaustion, a sense of urgency nagged, and with slow weary movements she obeyed. They needed to get as far away from the well as possible. If the kidnappers returned, they were so weak, they wouldn’t stand a chance.