Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3)

by Norma Hinkens

  “So, what’s our plan?” Velkan asks.

  “We’ll take the guards out one-by-one,” Phin says. “We’ll have to move swiftly and silently—leaving the killing to me.”

  “Once the guards are eliminated, we’ll scour the settlement for any sign of Buir and Ghil.” I look around at the others, holding each gaze briefly as I add. “We saved Mhakerta, we can save Cwelt too. We are The Four.”

  The agonizing wait for nightfall begins all over again. None of us is in the mood for conversation, but no one’s able to cat nap either. Our minds are focused on our mission and the bloodbath that lies before us on the road to freedom. I remind myself that the Maulers are unprincipled killers whose only currency is death and mutilation. Parthelon is a fool for thinking he can negotiate with them. Whatever deal he has made with them will collapse the minute the dargonite mines are exhausted. They will discard him like a chew toy and scalp him for good measure.

  When darkness falls, we gather our weapons and exit the stealth fighter. I look back at Ayma, and she gives me a tight nod of reassurance. There’s a chance we may not come back, but now is not the time for tearful good-byes. We need to believe in each other, and that’s what we’ve always been best at.

  I lead Phin and Velkan back over the mountains and through the craggy outcroppings, listening all the while for the telltale swooshing of sand snipers crossing our path, until we reach the outskirts of the settlement. Going down on one knee, I survey the building nearest to us. It’s the shram tanner’s place of business, deserted at night—the perfect rendezvous point to meet back up after we’ve searched the settlement. I take a deep breath and signal to the others to follow me, and then bolt toward the gloomy structure.

  Padding softly, I open the door and slip inside. As I feel around for obstacles in the shadows, a rough sack is yanked over my head, plunging me into darkness.

  19

  I thrash around, desperate to free myself, but someone has a vice grip on my arm. I can barely breathe through the heavy sack, let alone see anything.

  “Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” a muffled voice whispers.

  Footsteps enter the tanner’s hut, followed by scuffling sounds, then I’m jostled to one side as someone struggles with my attacker.

  “Ghil!” Velkan hisses. “Is that you?”

  The tussle ends abruptly. The sack is yanked from my head and I blink around the dark hut in confusion, gulping in deep breaths.

  “Sorry,” Ghil says, sounding abashed. “I thought you were Cweltans. I’ve been hiding in here most of the day.”

  It takes a moment for my heartbeat to slow down enough for me to speak. “Did you find Buir?”

  “Not yet,” Ghil replies. “I don’t know where to look. Now that you’re here, you can take me to her house.”

  “You should have waited for me to begin with,” I say in a biting tone. I want to yell at him for going after Buir alone and jeopardizing our entire mission, but it’s pointless. Besides, I would have done the same thing if Velkan had gone missing. No sense wasting time arguing about it. I’m as desperate as Ghil is to know why Buir didn’t return.

  “This way.” I motion to the others to follow me. I slip through the door and skirt around the tanner’s house into the back alley. Treading cautiously through the inky darkness, I feel my way from one structure to the next. I can find my way to Buir’s house blindfolded, but I’m moving with extra caution, only too aware that a Mauler patrol could blindside us at any minute.

  When we reach the edge of the marketplace in the center of the settlement, we cluster behind a large grain storage hut and study the scene in front of us. Thankfully, we won’t need to cross the open space where the stalls are set up. Buir’s hut is farther down on the same side of the street we are on. Phin points to the shadowy silhouette of a Mauler guard standing with his back to us. I give a grim nod and wait for several minutes to make sure he doesn’t turn around before waving the others on.

  I let out a sigh of relief when everyone makes it safely past the intersection and is congregated behind the next hut. “Buir’s house is two doors down from here,” I whisper. “We need to be careful not to startle her mother, she might inadvertently alert the guard.”

  “I doubt she’ll be all that surprised to see us,” Velkan says. “Buir’s likely told her we’re here.”

  I give a distracted nod. Assuming Buir made it to her house. Doubt needles at me. It’s unlike Buir to abandon the plan we agreed to. She knows we would have been worried sick when she didn’t show up at the stealth fighter by dawn. She would never intentionally leave us hanging like this.

  I frown at Velkan, dabbing at his nose with his sleeve.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  He turns aside and hurriedly swipes his nose clean. “Nothing.”

  I wrench him around by the shoulder to face me. A drop of blood pools at the end of his nose and drips to the ground.

  “Velkan! What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice rising in alarm.

  He gives a careless shrug. “Just a nosebleed. Probably from the high g-force landing.”

  I bite my lip, but I catch Ghil throwing a worried look Velkan’s way. It’s odd and Ghil knows it. One more thing for me to worry about. My thoughts fire in disjointed fragments as for one terrible moment I imagine what it would be like to lose him. My chest tightens until I can scarcely breathe. At all costs, I can’t let that happen.

  “We’re wasting time,” Ghil says.

  I throw another glance in Velkan’s direction. For now, I’ll have to take him at his word that he’ll be okay. “I’ll go in first,” I say. “Yeltavia knows me.”

  Ghil opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it when I glare at him. As desperate as he is to find Buir, he needs to do this my way from now on. All our lives are on the line.

  The night air is chilly on our faces as we creep silently forward. I’m hyper-aware of even the smallest sound, listening for anything unusual, especially the heavy footfall of a Mauler guard. The harsh call of a Cweltan shriek owl startles me, and I stiffen for a second or two, frozen to the spot. The pulse in my neck throbs fervently as I take another step forward. When the outline of Buir’s hut comes into view, I whisper to the others. “I’ll slip in through the kitchen window at the back. Don’t follow me until I signal that it’s safe.”

  Velkan grips me by the arm. “What if Buir’s been discovered? The Maulers might have set up a trap in her house. They could be waiting for you.”

  “That’s why I’m avoiding the door. Stay put for a few minutes until I give you the all clear.”

  Velkan releases me reluctantly, and I check to make sure my knife is within easy reach. My throat almost closes over with apprehension as I prepare to climb inside. There’s no sign of any Mauler presence around Buir’s hut, but the truth is that something isn’t right about this whole situation. She’s never let me down before which leads me to fear she is being held against her will. I need to be ready for whatever awaits me inside.

  Gripping my sweaty fingers to the sill, I pull myself up to a sitting position, balancing tentatively on the edge. Barely breathing, I listen intently for the sound of anyone moving around inside the kitchen, but the hut is silent. I wait for a moment until my eyes adjust, and then peer around the room. Everything is neatly organized, the pots cleaned and lined up on the shelves, the work surfaces scrubbed, nothing to indicate any sign of a struggle. The tantalizing aroma of shram stew lingers in the air, which indicates Yeltavia was here recently.

  Gingerly, I stretch out my right leg and plant one foot on the rush floor inside the kitchen. I pull my other leg inside, only letting out my breath once I confirm that the coast is clear. I scan the floor to make sure there are no obstacles in my path, and then carefully tiptoe past the table and chairs over to the doorway. I wait until the pounding in my chest dies down a little before I slip into the narrow hallway that leads to the sleeping quarters at the far end of the hut.

  I take anoth
er steadying breath and pad lightly down the hallway to the tiny room Buir shares with her mother. A jolt of relief goes through me when I peek my head inside and see two sleeping figures under the covers. I trek softly across to the bed and lean over them to confirm it’s really Buir and Yeltavia. I can’t help but smile with relief to myself as I watch their frames rise and fall in their sleep. They’re alive, and unharmed. The flicker of fear at the back of my mind that something unimaginable has happened to Buir finally fizzles out.

  Slowly, I retreat from the bed and make my way back down the hallway to the kitchen. I lean through the window and motion the others inside. The sooner they are off the street and out of sight the better.

  “Buir and Yeltavia are both here, sleeping soundly,” I say. “I’ll wake Buir and let her introduce you to her mother. Then maybe we can get some answers as to what is going on.”

  Back in the sleeping quarters I lean over the bed and do my best to shake Buir awake without disturbing Yeltavia. To my surprise, she doesn’t react, even when I pinch her arm. Frustrated, I shake her a little harder, and this time Yeltavia sits bolt upright in the bed.

  “It’s okay!” I hold out my hands to calm her before she screams. “It’s me, Trattora.”

  She stares at me bug-eyed for a long moment before throwing back the heavy shramskin cover on the bed and planting her feet on the ground.

  “I was trying to wake Buir,” I explain, “but she’s in a deep sleep.”

  Yeltavia averts her gaze and stands unsteadily, still groggy herself. “We’ll talk in the kitchen.”

  “My friends are waiting for us there,” I say.

  She gives a tight nod, but there’s an odd look on her face. I only hope my instincts were right and we can trust Yeltavia.

  Ghil, Phin and Velkan stand when we enter the kitchen.

  “This is Buir’s mother, Yeltavia,” I say, introducing them one-by-one.

  She stares at them suspiciously as she lights a candle, her eyes lingering on Ghil for a moment. She reaches for a pitcher and sets it in the middle of the table next to some downturned wooden tumblers. “You look like you haven’t eaten in days,” she says in a brisk tone. She rummages around in a cupboard and brings out a loaf of bread and some cheese and places it in our midst, before taking a seat on the other side of the table. The men eye the food hungrily, but wait for my cue. I tear off a hunk of the loaf and chew on it, saliva flooding my mouth at the comforting taste of freshly-baked Cweltan bread. The men follow my lead, tearing into the bread and cheese.

  I wipe the crumbs from my lips and look across at Yeltavia. “Where are my parents?”

  Her eyes darken and she drops her head, giving it a sad little shake.

  My stomach twists as I try to quell the rising panic inside me. “Are they still alive?”

  She doesn’t answer me so I lean across the table and squeeze her arm until she yelps and looks up with a pained expression on her face.

  “I need to know what happened to them, Yeltavia,” I say.

  She casts a despairing look around. “Your father betrayed us to the Maulers—to profit from the dargonite mines. He was to be tried by the Council, but I don’t know if the trial took place yet or not.” She hesitates, picks at her fingers. I gulp back the fear mushrooming inside me. The fact that she’s not sure if my father’s trial took place yet, gives me a tiny measure of hope that he’s still alive.

  “Parthelon is chieftain now,” she continues, dropping her voice. “He spends all his time with the Mauler overlord. He’s doing what he can to negotiate for our safety and pacify the Maulers.”

  I study her face as she speaks. If I had to guess, I’d say she only half-believes what she’s saying, but she’s far too scared to challenge Parthelon’s version of events.

  I take a quick steadying breath. “And … my mother?”

  “I haven’t seen her since your father was arrested.” Yeltavia bites down on her lip and I can tell that it pains her to think that anything could have happened to the chieftain’s beloved wife.

  Rage courses through me as I come to grips with the very real possibility that Parthelon orchestrated my parents’ death and somehow managed to spin the situation to make it look like he’s a hero in the eyes of my people.

  “Where are the elders?” I ask.

  Yeltavia sighs heavily. “Several were killed during the Mauler invasion. Parthelon keeps the rest of them busy overseeing the settlement and making sure the overlord’s wishes are carried out. We are forced to provide for the Maulers while they work the mines.”

  “How many of them are stationed on Cwelt?” Ghil asks.

  “Several hundred,” Yeltavia says. “And thousands more in the patrol ships circling Cwelt. They switch shifts every few days or so.”

  I suppress a shudder at the thought of facing a force of Maulers that size. “How many Cweltans died during the invasion?”

  Yeltavia chews on her lip. “We can’t be certain, the Maulers burned the bodies. Most of Cwelt surrendered under Parthelon’s direction. The Maulers confiscated our weapons.” She runs her fingers distractedly over her long shimmering silver braid. “Rumors abound that several hundred of our warriors are hiding out in the caves. But they can’t hide from the Maulers forever. They might as well accept their fate and join us.”

  “Maybe we can rally the surviving warriors and ambush the Maulers’ camp,” Velkan says.

  Yeltavia curls her lip at him. “Don’t even think about trying to resist. The Maulers make an example of anyone who defies them.” She pauses for a moment. “Trust me, you don’t want to witness it.”

  I shudder and decide against pressing for details. The scalps swinging at the Maulers’ waists are all the confirmation I need of their unbridled brutality.

  “One way or another, we’ll overthrow the Maulers,” I say. “But first, I need to find out if the remaining elders will stand with me.”

  Yeltavia fingers her throat nervously. “I know you mean well, but you will only get us all killed by trying to rise up against the Maulers. There is nothing you can do but accept your fate, Trattora, as Parthelon has done on our behalf.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “If my father is dead, then I am his rightful successor, not Parthelon. We will not negotiate or sell out to savages like the Maulers.”

  “You abandoned your people,” Yeltavia says accusingly. “You fled the invasion on the oremonger’s ship and forced my daughter to go with you. The people have accepted Parthelon as their new chieftain in your father’s place.”

  “Despite what Parthelon told you, Buir and I were prisoners on that ship,” I retort. “We escaped and returned as quickly as we could. I will reclaim my title. Parthelon is not, and never will be, Cwelt’s chieftain.”

  I stand and turn to the others. “We have to find the elders. Some of them were my father’s closest friends. They will know the truth of what happened. If Parthelon is responsible for my father’s death, he will pay with his life.”

  Ghil gets to his feet and nods in Yeltavia’s direction. “Thank you for the excellent bread. Buir undersold your baking skills.”

  Yeltavia tightens her lips in response and makes a show of clearing the table.

  “I’ll go wake Buir,” I say.

  “She’s not going with you,” Yeltavia replies, a sharp edge to her tone.

  “That’s not for you to decide,” I say brushing past her and hurrying back down the hallway.

  “Buir!” I lean over the bed and give her a vigorous shake. “Wake up!”

  “You’re wasting your time,” Yeltavia says from the doorway.

  “She won’t abandon me,” I say angrily, as I yank the covers off to rouse her.

  “I know she won’t.” Yeltavia folds her arms across her chest. “That’s why I drugged her.”

  20

  My blood runs cold at Yeltavia’s words. I search her face for any indication that I misunderstood, but her expression merely hardens under my gaze.

  “She’s my only child,
” she rasps. “My husband gave his life in your father’s service. I won’t lose her too.”

  “You have no claim over her allegiance,” I say. “She swore to serve me as her father served my father.”

  “I’m still her mother,” Yeltavia replies. “And I won’t stand idly by while she throws her life away for nothing. I knew she didn’t come back just to rescue me. She came back to help you with your grandiose plan of liberating Cwelt.” She gives a hollow laugh. “You and that army you brought with you. You’re fooling yourself, Trattora. You cannot oust the Maulers.”

  I take a step closer. “Is this really what you want for Buir? Do you think she would be content to live on Cwelt under the Maulers’ dominion?”

  Yeltavia twists her lips. “Leave. Now. If you are still here at dawn, you will be discovered. Someone will report seeing you, even if you evade the Mauler patrols.”

  “Someone,” I say softly. “Or you?”

  She tightens her robe around her shoulders, her face pinched.

  I hurry back down the hallway to the kitchen, my heart pounding so hard in my chest it hurts. “Yeltavia drugged Buir. She’s out cold. We’re going to have to leave her here while we look for the elders, and come back for her later.”

  “No!” Ghil says gruffly. “I don’t trust Yeltavia. She might take her somewhere and hide her. I’m not leaving Buir behind.”

  “There’s nowhere on Cwelt she can hide Buir that I won’t be able to find her.” I soften my tone to reassure him. “Buir’s safe here for now.”

  Phin fixes a resolute gaze on Ghil. “If you stay here, you’ll endanger us all. Yeltavia will report us.”

  Ghil rubs a hand over his jaw and gives a reluctant nod. “All right, but I’m coming back for Buir as soon as we find the elders.”

  We slip out through the kitchen window and sink down into the soft dirt at the back of the hut, listening for the footfall of any patrols in the area. A sliver of moonlight is visible through the cloudy sky as I lead the way down a back alley.