The Destiny Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Christine Grey

  Darius paused before answering. “That’s because you think like a Maj, Dearra. You would never have to worry one of your own people would use knowledge of your gift against you to take your life.”

  “Oh,” was all she could think to say to that statement.

  “What about you, then, Darius?” Hugh said, joining in. “Your ability with animals is quite impressive. You must have some tales to tell of your own. Did you have an animal companion like Reo in Darak?”

  Darius shrugged and went back to staring at the fire until they wondered if he would ever answer, he was silent for so long.

  “There was a puppy, once. I was still young, but I had grown out of the children’s ranks and was afforded a certain measure of freedom when I wasn’t training. Packs of dogs are everywhere in the city, and it’s not unusual to see one in the streets dead or dying after a fight between packs. This little one must have been just old enough to follow his mother around, but nowhere near ready to scrap with the others.

  “When I found him, one ear had been shredded, and he was bleeding from a dozen wounds. I was sure he was dying, but I just couldn’t leave him to perish in the street. If it wouldn’t have been dark, I could never have risked being seen to show that kind of weakness, but as it was, there was no one to see, so I stuffed the quaking bundle into my shirt and walked on. The closeness of our bodies seemed to comfort him.

  “I spent weeks nursing him back to health. It was near impossible to keep him hidden, especially as he got better and ventured out to look for me, but I managed. I still remember how he would run up to me and lick my hands and face in greeting.” Darius smiled softly at the memory.

  “What happened to him?” Carly asked, though she wasn’t really sure she wanted to know.

  “My father found me with him one day. He seemed slightly put out that I had the animal with me, but not angry, like I thought he would be. He looked at me for a while without saying anything, and then bent down and lifted the dog up by the scruff to inspect him. I thought for sure he would kill the pup, but there was nothing I could say that would prevent it, and I was too scared to speak anyway. After what seemed like forever, he told me to get back to my training, and that he would keep the animal safe for me. I didn’t dare ask about him after that.

  “It must have been six months later when he called me before him. He had a surprise for me, he said. In my absence, he had trained the dog properly. The puppy I had known was gone. What was left was a snarling and half crazed monster. He was the ideal Breken dog, trained exclusively to kill. I thanked my father for his gift. There was nothing else I could do except destroy the animal the first chance I got. His mind had been turned and it was the kindest thing I could think to do for him. My father never asked about the dog, and I never mentioned him again either.”

  “That’s awful, Darius,” Carly said in a breathy voice.

  “No, Carly; that’s Darak. You wanted to know and I told you. And stop looking at me like that. It was a long time ago.”

  “I think that’s more than enough for one night,” Daniel said brusquely.

  “Agreed,” Hugh said a little less forcefully.

  Darius rose, stretched, and shot a meaningful look at William. “Well, my brother, the hour grows late,” he said. “We had best be to our beds or we won’t be able to pull ourselves from them come sunrise. What do you say, William?”

  “Yes, I am with you, Darius,” William said somewhat cryptically. Dearra thought it a rather odd way to say you were ready for bed.

  “What about you, Daniel?” Darius asked, turning in Daniel’s direction.

  Daniel looked up casually at Hugh. Dearra missed the small nod her father gave.

  “Yes, Darius,” Daniel said. “I think that sounds like a good idea.”

  Carly was already tugging on Dearra’s arm, trying to get her moving, thereby distracting her from the expressions on the men’s faces, which would certainly have gotten Dearra’s mind spinning.

  ***

  Dearra was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. The day’s events had taken a lot out of her, and she was surprised to be woken up in the dark of night by Brin.

  Dearra! Dearra, wake up!

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” she whispered, trying not to wake Carly. Had she been more fully awake, she might have answered in her head, but she was barely able to open her eyes, let alone think clearly.

  Oh, nothing. I was just thinking.

  “Can’t you think in the morning, Brin?” Dearra said. She sank back onto her soft pillow, and her eyes started to drift shut.

  I just thought we could sneak out and go to the tavern Darius showed us earlier.

  Dearra’s eyes snapped open, and she sat up quickly. “We couldn’t do that, Brin! It’s the dead of night! What if something happened? No one would know where to find us. No, absolutely not; it’s too dangerous!”

  We could bring Carly along. You said yourself, she’s very good with her knife. She could stay outside in the shadows while you go in. Then, if anything happened, she could come back for help. You know she would love it, besides. So would the Dearra I used to know. But if you’re too afraid….

  “Goading me into it isn’t going to work, Brin. That tavern is a dangerous place. But just for the sake of argument, do you really think Carly could handle it?”

  “Never doubt an Etrafarian,” Carly said impishly as she threw back her covers and started to dress.

  I really do like that girl, Brin said happily.

  Dearra growled a rumble of defeat before tossing aside her own covers and dressing as quietly as possible.

  ***

  Once the two young women had donned their Parsaian garb, they wriggled cautiously out of the window in their room. They would have gone out the front door, but they couldn’t risk waking the men as they passed their rooms. The outer robes they wore were dark and blended well with the outside walls of the inn on the moonless night. They missed a couple of turns, but Dearra mostly remembered the way. Brin helped as much as he could, but he was not familiar with that part of town either, and things looked quite different in the inky blackness, besides.

  “There,” Carly whispered, tugging at Dearra’s sleeve and pointing to the tavern.

  “It looks awfully dark,” Dearra said. “Aren’t these places supposed to stay open quite late?”

  “I’m not sure, Dearra, but I would guess the first step to finding out would be to actually go inside.”

  “Ha, ha. Thank you, Carly.”

  The two of them slipped quietly closer and clung to the shadows as much as possible as they went.

  Dearra pushed against the door which opened with a faint squeak. She thought it odd, as the hinges looked new, but then she realized the squeak was probably there by design, in order to alert anyone inside of trespassers after hours.

  She nudged the door steadily wider in spite of the noise it made. Inside, the room was totally black and appeared completely abandoned.

  Small pinpricks of starlight broke through the mostly cloudy sky, and Dearra got a brief glimpse of Carly’s anxious and excited face as they stood in the doorway.

  “Stay here,” she mouthed silently to her.

  “Yeah, right,” Carly mouthed in return.

  Dearra shrugged her shoulders and they crept inside. Carly’s fingers wrapped in the heavy fabric of Dearra’s outer robe, and though the constant tugging served to remind Dearra she was not alone, it gave her little comfort. Dearra felt like a bow string that had been stretched taut. She almost quivered in anticipation. While she could not see what was up ahead, she could smell the pungent aroma of pipe tobacco, the semi-sweet and somewhat nutty fragrance of some kind of fermented beverage, and less pleasant, but not unexpected in a place like this, a combination of sweat and vomit.

  You’re going too slowly! Brin’s said, his unexpected outburst making Dearra jump in surprise. Carly’s grip tightened convulsively, and Dearra reached a hand back and patted her arm reassuringly.

&
nbsp; Damn it, Brin! Don’t do that! Dearra silently scolded.

  You just need to hurry, is all, Brin said, sounding somewhat sheepish.

  What in Cyrus’s name for? It’s early yet. The men won’t notice we’re gone for hours to come. What’s the rush?

  Almost as an answer to her question, Dearra heard the sound of muffled laughter and yelling. She put her hand to the door before her and opened it cautiously to reveal a passageway and stone steps leading downward. The corridor itself was unlit, but the faint glowing of distant torches made the stairs appear more gray than black, and Dearra felt confident she would be able to navigate her way without breaking her neck. Well, she probably would be able to navigate her way without breaking her neck.

  Dearra, please hurry.

  Brin sounded serious, and that, more than anything, frightened her. What aren’t you telling me? Dearra asked.

  I was…well, we never get to do anything. I was so bored, and it just didn’t seem right that the men got to have all of the adventure, but now…

  What about the men? Dearra demanded, not liking where the conversation was headed. Before Brin could offer further explanation, Dearra heard a loud thud, followed by more laughter, and then—

  The low groan that reached her ears was uttered by a voice so familiar to her that it might be her own. In fact, at that particular moment, she would rather it were her own, for to hear Darius in pain like that was almost more than she could take.

  Dearra ignored Carly’s frantic tugging and slipped silently closer and closer to the sound that drew her onward. The ground evened out at the bottom of the stairs, where a narrow pathway led them to several locked doors, but it was the large circular room at the end of the hall that held their interest. In that room, the walls were supported by beams and braces, much like a mine would be, in an effort to support the structure built on top of sandy and unstable ground. Torches were set into the walls, and crates were stacked about the room. In the center of the room, Darius, Daniel, and William sat tied to chairs. Daniel and William seemed unharmed, though Daniel had been gagged, and he fought viciously against his tethers. The same could not be said for Darius, who had been beaten. He was still conscious, though he slumped in his chair, letting the ropes that bound him support his weight.

  “Now, now, let’s be tryin’ this again. How many are ye, and where be the coin?”

  Darius only glared at his captor.

  “I swear, Breken, ye be a difficult man. What’s it to ye, anyhow? One small, foreign boy, not even yer own. Just tell us how many of ye there be and where the silver is, and once we be getting our hands on the coin, ye can be on yer way.”

  “I can’t do that,” Darius said. “He would be as good as dead if we don’t ransom him. Dead, or worse, alive as a Breken slave.”

  “So, he dies. What’s one dead Maj brat, more or less?”

  Dearra’s sharp intake of breath was covered by Darius’s furious growl before he spit in his captors face.

  The man wiped the mess from his forehead and cheek and grabbed a board lying nearby. He was about to strike when Dearra came out from behind the crates, Brin extended in front of her. With her hair unbound and the light of the torches casting shadows all around her as her sword glowed faintly red, she looked like an avenging angel come down amongst the lesser races.

  Darius’s eyes went wide and a look of pure panic spread across his face.

  Dearra did not speak as she quickly assessed the situation. There were five men in total. The one who had been about to strike Darius was, no doubt, the leader. He seemed dressed more elegantly, though his speech was by no means formal, seeming to bounce between common wharf rat and nobleman, as if he couldn’t quite manage either persona fully. There were two men standing guard by William and Daniel, but what was more distressing, there were also two men stationed at the entrance to the chamber. The same crates that had concealed Dearra from view had also blocked her view of them, and she found herself no more than six feet distant from the closest man and maybe ten from the other.

  “What ‘ave we ‘ere? A pretty piece she is,” the leader said, grinning wickedly at Dearra, as the other men chuckled in amusement.

  Any lethargy Darius had shown earlier vanished, and he sat tense and alert, not wanting to betray knowing her for fear it would put her in even more danger. He hoped that, perhaps, they could fool the thieves into thinking she was simply lost and—

  “Those men belong to me,” Dearra stated boldly, dashing Darius’s fragile hopes.

  “What? All three?” the leader asked in mock disbelief. Again, the other men laughed, though this time adding jokes of their own, most of which would have made Dearra blush under normal circumstances.

  “Just the dark one, really, but I want all three just the same.”

  Left, Dearra, Brin warned.

  To the man on Dearra’s left, it looked like she had read his mind, for almost as soon as the thought to strike had formed in his head, the girl spun on him, aiming her sword in his direction. It was unnerving how decisively she had turned on him.

  In his waistband, Dearra.

  “The knife tucked into the waist of your pants. Pull it out slowly and toss it behind you,” she ordered.

  The man scowled fiercely but made as if he would comply.

  “No, not the left hand,” Dearra said, stopping him. “You’re left handed; use your right hand.”

  A little frightened now, the man’s hand shook slightly as he pulled the knife from his pants and tossed it away.

  The leader sneered in her direction, but spoke to the now unarmed guard. “Dobbin, you useless pile of fish guts.”

  In a rush, perhaps not wanting to incur his master’s disfavor, the second man at the entrance dashed in.

  “Dearra!” Darius shouted, unnecessarily, for Brin had already warned her a moment sooner. The man’s charge was clumsy, and Dearra easily sidestepped him, brought Brin down sharply, and knocked him unconscious. Darius watched with pride and relief as Dearra stepped fluidly around the prone man, and extended her sword out in front of her again.

  The first guard, seeing his companion so easily dispatched, stood with wide eyes as he mumbled prayers for salvation. Dearra began to wonder what kind of god thieves prayed to, but Brin’s silent admonishment snapped her focus back to the three adversaries before her.

  “Little girl,” the leader said calmly. “There are four of us, well, three anyway,” he amended, shaking his head in disgust at Dobbin, who remained quaking on the ground. “Ye cannot win.”

  “I don’t want to win, I simply wish to take what’s mine and go.”

  “Maybe I should let them go free and keep me a pretty dove to play with instead.”

  Unable to contain himself any longer, Darius growled low in his throat, and said, “I’ll kill you if you touch her.”

  The leader lifted the board he had been holding and swiftly struck at Darius, snapping the wood in two. Dearra charged forward, but the two men who stood beside William and Daniel drew swords of their own, and when they did, Dearra marked the way they stood and the ease with which they held their weapons, and she knew she faced skilled swordsmen.

  “Dearra, please, just go. You can’t fight them all. Please, love,” Darius said.

  Dearra looked at Darius’s bruised and bleeding face, and felt her temper flare. A humorless grin spread across her face as she looked to the man who had harmed him. The golden rings of her eyes flashed in the torch light as she said, “See, now I have to kill you.”

  It all happened so quickly. Brin yelled to Dearra to watch her back. Daniel tried to shout a warning through the gag in his mouth, but the guard who had been watching Daniel struck him hard across the face, effectively silencing him. Dearra turned swiftly, and Brin sank silently into the soft belly of Dobbin, who had regained a small measure of courage, only to die for it moments later. As Dobbin slipped to the dirt floor, Dearra spun back to face the remaining men. An instant later, the guard who had hit Daniel joined Dobbin, fac
e up on the dirt floor, the jeweled dagger in his chest giving evidence to the cause of his death.

  Carly strode forward. The leader and the one remaining guard had stepped back, mostly from shock at how the events had spun so wildly out of their control. Carly edged her way closer to the prone man, and keeping one eye on the two remaining threats, took hold of the dagger embedded in her victim’s chest. With a delicate shudder, she pulled the blade free. With her other hand, she awkwardly grabbed the fallen guard’s sword, and matched Dearra’s stance.

  “It seems the odds have changed,” Dearra said, her voice deadly serious.

  A loud but distorted bellow from Daniel made Carly and Dearra change focus for a moment, and they turned toward their bound friends.

  “I believe he wants you to cut him loose,” William said with a small grin.

  Don’t do it, Dearra! This is the most fun I’ve had in ages! Brin said.

  “Carly, help the men,” Dearra instructed, and she continued to point Brin at the two men who were now backed against the stone wall. Carly used her blood-covered dagger to slice away Daniel’s bindings first. He quickly reclaimed the sword that had been taken from him, and joined Dearra as Carly first freed William, and then Darius.

  “Well, ye be holdin’ all the power now. So what is it ye want?” The leader suddenly looked smaller to Dearra’s eyes as he bargained in an attempt to save his own neck.

  “I want nothing but your blood on my sword,” Dearra said, and she lurched, headlong, to make good on her threat, but Daniel stopped her before she had advanced more than a step.

  Get him, Dearra! Get him! Look at Darius. Look what that pig did to him! Cut him down!

  “I’m trying!” Dearra said aloud as she whipped against Daniel’s grip.

  “Dearra,” Darius said, though not loudly.

  Almost instantly, Dearra calmed and looked into Darius’s warm brown eyes.

  “Leave him be.”

  “But he beat you! He—”

  “For Phillip, Dearra.”

  Defeated, Dearra stepped back, though she refused to lower her sword.