by Mary Auclair
Hazel and Khal fell silent. There were so many implications in this, in the depths with which Knut had planted his seeds of corruption all the way into the heart of the Eok nation, the most powerful warrior species in the Ring and beyond.
“Gerkin was Knut’s bloody arm. He and his warriors led the Ilarian army. They slaughtered the Muharee, entire villages full of people. Young and old, female and warrior, it didn’t matter,” Khal went on.
“Gerkin is a monster. Yalko won’t let him get away with this. He can fight Knut with us, together, we can complete your mission.”
Sadness and grief painted Khal’s face as he shook his head. “Yalko won’t help us. He lost too much, he’s scared of losing what he has left. He won’t send more of his people to their deaths for the sake of a Ring that wanted nothing more than to conquer them for hundreds of years.”
Hazel let the information sink in. The fog was gone from her brain and she sat up, alert. The weight of what they still had to do was crushing. “But what will we do? We need their help, we can’t fight ten thousand Ilarian and Gerkin’s troops all by ourselves. We stand no chance.”
“We do not.” Khal shook his head, grief and resolve mixing together on his face to chill Hazel’s heart as it beat in her chest. “But I can. I can get into Knut’s facility with the information Yalko provided me, and I can kill Knut. With him dead, the Ilarian are worthless. I will be able to destroy the bomb.”
“But you will never get out of there alive,” Hazel whispered as she understood. Now she understood Khal’s grief, that sad resolve in his eyes. “This is a suicide mission.”
“It is a sacrifice I am willing to make. For all the innocent people who would lose their lives. For my people and for yours. ” Khal nodded, his hand closing around her cheek, so hot and alive. “For you.”
“But what about Celaith and Zaxis?” Hazel tried to swallow, but her throat was suddenly closed. “There is no telling how long he will keep them here. If we wait too long, he will have sold Celaith, and Gods know what will happen to Zaxis if his father refuses to pay.”
Khal’s face lost the softness of moments before, shedding it like a skin. All that remained was the Eok Commander; cold and remote, efficient.
“Zaxis knew the risks when he agreed to this mission. The priority is to retrieve the bomb, not save our friends.” Khal shook his head, regret showing for only a few seconds. “He would do the same if it were me in his place.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” But even as she spoke, Hazel knew Khal was right. Zaxis would put the mission above all else, even above Khal.
Still, she couldn’t accept it.
“But what about Celaith?” she asked. Khal’s face shadowed with regret, but he didn’t answer. “What if it was me? Wouldn’t you do everything you could to save me?”
Savagery shone in Khal’s eyes, but only for a second.
“I would tear apart this entire planet to save you, but that would only mean I’m a fool.” Khal pursed his full lips and sadness filled his eyes. “I am sorry, Hazel. If there is any way I can save our friends as well, then I will do it, but the bomb matters more.”
He looked down at his hands and slowly, carefully, he relaxed them again. There was death in his gaze when he looked up at Hazel.
“I am the only hope we have left.”
Hazel listened to what Khal had to say with a dead heart. Her sister’s face hovered in her mind, then the faces of all the people on Aveyn—Eoks and humans alike. What Khal was talking about was nothing short of a suicide mission. A suicide mission to save trillions of lives.
Was Khal’s life worth so many? Was hers?
She knew she was selfish, but she couldn’t accept losing him, not even to save so many others. Yet, he wasn’t going to listen to her, and he shouldn’t. They couldn’t stay here with the Muharee people, couldn’t hide under the Medina Forest and pretend they had tried their best.
Everything they had ever loved and known would perish or be enslaved if Knut got what he wanted.
And Knut always got what he wanted.
Knut’s face came to her mind, his fine, aristocratic features. Those purple eyes full of sickness and greed. Hatred bubbled inside Hazel, hot and toxic like nothing she ever felt before.
He’s not getting what he wants this time. This time, he’s going to die.
“No, you are not. I won’t accept this. I won’t lose you.” She shook her head. “I will talk to Yalko, make him see that he needs to fight with us.”
“You see the best in people.” Khal smiled at her, but it was a sad smile. “The Muharee won’t help. They agreed to escort us to the edge of the Medina Forest, but that is all. They view us all as enemies. They will never trust an Eok, never ally themselves with one.”
“An Eok, maybe not,” Hazel agreed. “But they might ally themselves with a human.”
Khal looked at her for a long time, then he nodded. “Blood is still owed.”
“Blood is owed,” Hazel echoed. “And I am calling in the debt.”
It took Hazel over an hour to persuade Khal that she was strong enough to walk, but at last, he had relented.
She stood on unsteady feet, her hands running over the green fabric of the clothing the Muharee had left for them. At her side, Khal was similarly dressed, wrapped in the tight-fitting pants and coat that ran up to his neck. The clothing was designed to cover all the visible skin, and yet it was weirdly pleasant to wear. It felt soft, yet tough, as flexible as a second skin. Wearing this, the Muharee hid from the Medina when they walked, allowing them to go unmolested through the carnivorous forest.
Khal’s arms wrapped around her protectively as they made their way out of the room and into a long hallway carved into the rock. Everywhere, the veins of the Medina Forest illuminated the way, casting a soft golden glow over the bare floor and walls.
Pushed by curiosity, Hazel flattened her hand against the golden vein. Fear fluttered in her belly at the memory of the pain the Medina could inflict, but she kept her hand there. The vein was faintly warm under her palm, distinctly different from the rocks around it in both temperature and texture. As she ran the tip of her finger over it, it pulsed lightly—it was not as hard as the rock, but had slight give.
The Medina is everywhere on Muhar.
Yalko’s words came back to her mind, as well as the reverence with which he had touched the golden veins. She understood now what he meant, how he felt.
Theirs was a symbiotic relationship. The Muharee lived off their Mother Forest, fed by her, protected by her, lit by her and, in exchange, the Muharee fed her with the bodies of their deceased and protected her in return.
As they walked on, they could hear voices far away in the distance. Then, they finally arrived in a large, round room with a high ceiling whose golden veins descended into what could only be described as a chandelier made of living matter.
The room was full of people, buzzing around, talking and laughing. Children ran between adults, darting fast, lost in their games. At the very end of the room sat Yalko in a chair made entirely of the golden veins mixed with green. A throne, Hazel realized.
As soon as they came into view, the entire room was plunged into silence, like all the words had been sucked from the air.
Heads all turned their way, yellow eyes gleaming with emotions, from fear to outright hatred. Khal held Hazel closer to him, his face carefully neutral and his eyes alert as they walked on. The crowd split as they approached, parting a dozen feet in front of them and closing behind them as they went. As Hazel progressed through the Muharee crowd, she noticed something strange. Most of them were females and children, with few males sprinkled around the room, towering above the others.
Then, they were finally in front of Yalko.
His yellow eyes were on them, his unreadable reptilian gaze unwavering. Tension was a breathing, living thing in the air as all the Muharee turned expectant stares to their chieftain.
“My people are wary of strangers,” Yalko said in his
broken-glass voice, as unreadable as his face. “You are the first they have seen in a long time.”
Since Gerkin slaughtered them like sheep, Yalko meant. The reminder of the horrors imposed on his people by an Eok warrior was no random act.
He was sending them a message. No, more than a message. He was sending them a warning.
Yalko moved to meet them, his green clothing subtly different than that of the rest of the people in the crowd. Fine veins of gold ran across it in complex, natural patterns that were both mesmerizing and elegant. For the first time, Hazel saw Yalko for what he was: a chieftain to his people, the guardian of their safety. He exuded power in everything he did, in the way he stood tall, moved with the confident ease of one accustomed to being in charge.
“You seem to have mended well under the care of the healer.” Yalko looked up and down Hazel with a satisfied nod. “Your body was stronger than it looked, it took well to the nurturing of the Mother Forest.”
There was steel in Yalko as he watched her, and the crowd gathered subtly closer. Danger hovered in the air above the assembled Muharee in an almost palpable cloud. Hazel glanced around at the faces looking down at her. These people were allies now, but they could just as easily turn on her and Khal at the whim of Yalko. And Yalko’s only desire was to keep his people safe. If she threatened them, he would not hesitate to hurt her and Khal, she had no doubt about that.
I can’t back down. If we don’t stop Knut, then all is finished anyway.
“Yes. I thank you for your care.” Hazel inclined her head in gratitude, steeling herself for the mental battle to come. Yalko would not be one easily convinced to work alongside the Eoks. A few wrong words might send them both back to the surface and at the mercy of the Medina. “But I would ask more of you yet.”
“I know what you will ask me.” Yalko’s tone cut through Hazel’s confidence like a knife. “You will ask of me that I send my people to be butchered for the sake of a government bent on our destruction. You will ask that I ally with the same Eoks who have killed so many of my kind that our homes are filled with orphans. You will ask and ask, but have little to offer in return.”
Yalko’s tone wasn’t unreadable anymore. Hostility was as obvious in his voice and face as Hazel had ever seen. Around her and Khal, people spoke low in their native language, the sound so much like the chirping of the Medina Forest that it made her shiver.
“No.” Hazel cast a wide glance around. Her words had to convince Yalko, but she also had to convince his people. “I am not asking you to die for the Ring. Humans have little love for the Ring as well. We were hunted to near extinction, enslaved, and kept in laboratories for hundreds of years. The Ring means nothing to me.”
Khal grew very still at her side. She knew he didn’t share her distrust of the Ring’s authority, but she also knew that the Muharee were likely to share it.
“Then why not let it burn?” There was a cold kind of anger in Yalko as he asked his question, a hatred that ran bone deep.
“Because it would mean letting a trillion people burn with it.”
Her answer hovered in the air as the chirping of people talking became louder. Yalko stared at her, his eyes flashing, his body tense.
“Where were those trillion people worth saving when Gerkin slaughtered my mate and three offspring?” Yalko got to his feet, his movement fluid, but anger radiating through the tiniest motion of his features. “Would any of those trillion people have put their lives in danger to save any one of us? Would any of them even have cared?”
The end of Yalko’s sentence was barely a whisper, but it felt to Hazel as if he had shouted it. Khal inched closer to her, still silent, his blue eyes shining with a fierce glint as the Muharee crowd grew agitated. Their conversations became louder, some even shouted at Khal and Hazel, hatred and violence glittering in their yellow-eyed faces.
“This is getting out of hand,” Khal whispered to her, his talons elongating from his fingers. She knew he was going to react at the first provocation.
And that would mean more bloodshed, when too much blood had already been spilled.
“I did,” Hazel replied, her eyes steady on Yalko, her chin high and her voice even. “I cared. I put my life, my freedom, on the line for you and all the other prisoners. I had nothing to gain by freeing you, but I did it anyway, because it was the right thing to do.”
Yalko stood just in front of Hazel, his eyes full of grief and rage, but there was something else beneath the thick fog of emotions in his reptilian face. A hope for better days, maybe?
“Nothing you can do will bring back the ones you lost.” Hazel spoke again, not taking her eyes off Yalko. Danger exuded from him like a perfume, thickening the air, sucking the oxygen out. “But you can bring them peace by stopping Knut.”
Seconds ticked by as his yellow eyes peered down at her, then Yalko took a single step backward. “I am sorry, Hazel.” His voice was heavier, the tones of broken glass more pronounced. “I cannot do what you ask, blood owed or not. I will escort you and your mate to the edge of the Medina, will provide you with any assistance you may need, but I will not attack Knut. Too many of us have died, what is left must be protected.”
When Yalko turned his back to her, Hazel felt her hope being torn to shreds in the back of her mind like paper.
We’re all going to die.
Then a great commotion spread through the assembled Muharee as the golden light above them flickered, then died. Soon after, the golden veins in the walls flickered as well, fading fast.
“What’s happening?” Hazel instinctively pressed herself closer to Khal as panic spread amongst the Muharee.
Yalko barked a few orders in his chirping language, bewilderment on his face. Tall Muharee warriors ran into the room, out of breath and with eyes wide and full of fear.
“The Medina,” the first one said, looking at Yalko with an expression of pure terror. “It’s dying.”
Chaos broke out in the great hall of the Muharee. Females and young ones cried out, looking up at the flickering light with broken expressions, the horror so clear in their faces that Hazel’s heart lurched for them. Some of them ran, shouting the names of loved ones.
As if moved by a single thought, warriors moved to the front of the crowd, their yellow eyes gleaming and fear on their faces. Fear, but also resolve. Resolve to protect their own, to save their Mother Forest and the lives of all those they cherished.
“Stay calm,” Yalko ordered, his voice rising above the great clamor, even and controlled. “We must not panic.”
As if he had shouted, calm settled over the Muharee until all that remained was the fractured crying of a small child here and there. A silence made of dread and death settled over the entire people as they turned their eyes to their leader.
“Females and young offspring will head south to the other tribes to alert them of what is happening here.” A wave of nods answered Yalko’s command. “Warriors will stay. I will go to the edge of the Medina and find out what happened.”
Above them, the light flickered once more, plunging the crowd in a darkness as liquid and complete as the void of space, then returning to its original soft glow.
“This won’t hold long. Whatever is happening to the Medina, it’s spreading, and fast,” Khal whispered in Hazel’s ear, his voice low and full of worry. “Once those lights die, there is no telling how the Muharee will react.”
Because if those lights died, so would the Muharee.
Yalko wasn’t going to just wait and see his people plunged into darkness. Already, he was giving orders to his warriors, who were corralling the population into a faraway tunnel. Then his bright yellow eyes turned to Hazel and Khal.
“It seems I will have to put my people in harm’s way after all.” There was a broken note in his voice, a cold resolve in his tone.
“We have to know what is happening,” Khal said. “But no matter how or why, you know the truth. This is Knut’s doing, and he has to be stopped.”
&n
bsp; A savage gleam passed briefly over those yellow eyes. “Yes, Eok warrior. Knut has to be stopped.”
Chapter 22
Hazel
“The Medina will not harm you.” Yalko spoke to Hazel as he wrapped his body within the heavy green cloak. “She cannot see you under the cloak, but you must not run, no matter how many of her tentacles she raises at our approach.”
Hazel swallowed, unable to speak as she pulled the folds of her own cloak tighter around her shoulders. At her side, Khal stood, his face unreadable, his own body wrapped in the Muharee’s green cloak and suit.
The light hadn’t returned to the Muharee’s home, plunging them all into a dreadful darkness. Yalko turned to the five Muharee warriors who had been selected to come with him to find out why the Medina had suddenly stopped providing its people with light. The warriors were silent and serious, their yellow gazes on the forest beyond the cave with distressed, almost desperate expressions.
The Medina was not just everywhere on Muhar, it was everything to the Muharee.
Yalko didn’t wait, he turned to the forest and walked away in silence, followed by his five warriors.
“Stay close to me.” Khal spoke low to Hazel, his eyes alert as he scanned the green land beyond the cave opening. “We cannot trust them.”
“They have no reason to hurt us.”
“They are a broken people.” Khal shook his head. “And the dying of the Medina might just be the thing that pushes them to their breaking point. Desperate people are dangerous.”
Hazel considered what Khal had told her as they stepped together into the Medina Forest, walking in unison. As they went on, white roots lifted into the air and the sound of chirping accompanied each and every one of their steps. The Medina seemed alert and well, but that soon changed.
An hour later, the white roots no longer swayed softly to the rhythm of their chirping. They stood with their tips drooping down, clear mucus dripping slowly from them and seeping into the death-infused dirt.
