“The scavengers were rough,” she added. “Maybe you banged your head when they dragged you from the water. Hopefully, it’s temporary.” She continued to stare into my blue eye.
Scavengers? I squeezed my lids tight, trying to recall what had happened. My confusion must have shown on my face.
“You don’t remember me, do you? I’m Trill. We were on the Hypor ship together heading for Prima Feminary. Your mother was there too, and my aunt.”
With the mention of Mother, some pieces fell into place. The returning memories flooded me with sadness and thickened my throat. “How did I get here? I remember falling…”
“You almost drowned. Your waterlogged juba didn’t help. I convinced the men to save you. Told them they’d get more money for a councilor’s daughter.”
“How did you know?”
She dropped her head and looked away. “I overheard you and your mother talking. Not on purpose. It was that first night after they grabbed you from your island.” She paused. “I’m sorry about your father.”
Her compassionate words stabbed at my heart. Feelings of loss swallowed me faster than the frigid water after my fall. Father was dead, Mother transported, Jarryd missing. I’d lost Circe, my falcon, as well. Then I remembered the diaries. I felt for them. The left one was gone, but the bulge in the right boot remained. I hadn’t lost everything. I still had the second diary.
Trill noticed my movements. “Are your legs hurting? I give a good massage.”
“No, I’m okay. Just a little stiff.” Now wasn’t the time to reveal my cache. I’d wait for a better opportunity to check the diary once I was alone. “How long since we were taken?”
“Two weeks. You were really sick.”
“Two weeks?” I couldn’t believe so much time had passed since my capture.
“I overheard the scavengers talking about rebellion,” Trill continued. “They hid out for a while because Hypor City had drones searching the oceans for unknown vessels.
Had Mother’s ship been intercepted? Had she been rescued? If not, she’d be at Prima Feminary by now. That’s if she was still alive. I shook my head, rejecting that thought.
“They also said that the premier was assassinated,” Trill added. “Do you know about that?”
I nodded. “He was brutally murdered by his son, Prince.”
She leaned forward. “Is that what your dream was about? You were delirious and mumbling weird things on the ship as well. You had a raging fever. I wasn’t sure you’d make it at one point.”
I recalled caring hands tending to sores and cuts and a voice coaxing me to take one more mouthful. Trill had nursed me back to health. “Thank you for looking after me.” I touched her arm just as a sharp jerk flung us against the metal, sand-covered floor of the vehicle.
“What is this thing we’re in? Do you know where they’re taking us?
“It’s a sand crawler.” Her eyes widened like an owl’s; her expression tensed. “One of the captors said they’re taking us to the slave market in Nuvega.”
I gasped. “I have to escape,” I mumbled under my breath.
She sniffed. “Me too.”
The vehicle rose and dropped, sending my stomach into convulsions. The injured ribs I had successfully ignored started to ache again. I closed my eyes and hummed to ease the discomfort, too tired to care about rules and restrictions. Hypor City seemed a galaxy away.
I conjured images of home and the pain eased. A folk song sprang to mind. I stopped humming and sang the melody.
“You’re a singer.” Trill clapped her hands in delight. “So am I.” She started to hum along.
“What? But how…?” My face must have mirrored my disbelief.
“Do you think you’re the only one who can carry a tune?” She grinned. “It’s what I do in Nuvega—along with reading auras. By the way, yours is huge and bright.”
Astonished by her first revelation, I tuned out the second. “Is it really permitted—singing I mean?” I tried to wrap my mind around the possibility.
“Why wouldn’t it be? There’s no harm in it. It’s only music.”
“It’s against the law in Hypor City.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “That’s crazy. Nuvega isn’t like that. Pretty much anything is allowed, even singing.”
“How do you know so much about the place?” I assumed she’d also lived on an island.
“Nuvega is home now. My parents died when I was thirteen. My brother needed to find work. I wanted to get away from the isolation of the island where we lived with my uncle and his wife. My brother took me with him to Nuvega. Recently, I returned to visit my uncle. Hypor guards raided the island. My uncle’s a small-time scavenger, and a good guy, but his wife is a witch. She told me my uncle was dying and needed to see me. It was a lie.
“Why would she lie?”
“She found out that my uncle was sending me money each month,” said Trill. “She’s a jealous cow and resents the good relationship I have with him.”
“What did she do?”
“When I arrived, she was alone. When the guards turned up, she informed me she’d paid to have me transported to Prima Feminary. The irony is they took her too because she insulted the captain and argued about his fee. Now she’s the one who will spend her life under the thumb of the Genetrix.”
The pity I’d felt for Trill’s aunt vanished when I’d heard how she’d mistreated Trill, but I was hesitant to condemn anyone to exile. “Do you think it’s bad at Prima Feminary?”
“That’s what I’ve heard.” Trill grimaced. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
“I’ll find a way to rescue her, no matter what it takes.” Even using my voice, I added silently. Bloated images from my nightmare pushed into my mind. I pushed them back.
“Have you heard of a man named Tarvek?” I asked.
“Sure, everyone knows him. He has a compound in the desert. He’s a tech wizard who owns the mines and the land bordering Nuvega. A nasty dude who buys men, women, and children. He puts them to work—and uses them for other things too. There are rumors he performs experiments on them. How did you hear of him?”
“The scientists on Hypor discovered a solar threat. Have you heard of coronal mass ejections?”
“Yes, CMEs. There’s a crazy group in Nuvega that monitors the sun. They say solar flares are why the storms are getting wilder and Nuvega is getting hotter.”
“That’s not all. The solar flares are increasing and threatening to tear away the planet’s atmosphere. Premier Delio supposedly made a deal with Tarvek to build spaceships to transport people off-world.”
I told her about Delio’s deception. How the rebels had revealed his corruption. “He only intended to save his family and friends. When his motive was revealed to Hyporians, there were riots. Premier Delio is dead, but his son escaped and is still alive. My guess is that he will try to make contact with Tarvek.”
“I haven’t heard anything about Tarvek recently, and only vague rumors of a solar threat. Nuvega doesn’t really have a government. Everyone looks out for themselves. The attitude is more live for today than plan for the future.” She shrugged and braced herself as the sand crawler headed down an incline.
I pushed back into a corner to steady myself, scarcely registering the fading light. “If a solution isn’t found, our days are numbered.”
Trill grunted when the vehicle lurched to a halt. “We have more immediate problems.”
I continued in a whisper. “If Prince Delio is going to find Tarvek, Kaaluk and Jarryd will follow. I’ve got to find them first, then on to Prima Feminary to rescue Mother—once I escape.”
Trill grinned, nodded, and put her finger to her lips.
Metal door locks clanged. There was no blazing sunlight when the crawler doors opened, only an eerie half-light.
“Out you two,” a gruff voice commanded.
I stepped down from the crawler and shivered as cold air pooled around me. We were underground in a huge cavern. “Where are we
?” I murmured to Trill as the vehicle doors closed behind us.
“In one of the entry tunnels that leads to Nuvega’s central market. Most of the city is below the surface. The rising temperatures and brutal sand storms make it safer to live underground.”
“Quiet,” a man hollered. “Damn women always have to be talking.”
We weren’t bound or gagged. My voice was free, but I was terrified to use it. The nightmares of what I’d done during Steepchase and on the island plagued me. I wouldn’t take another life—unless I had no other option.
“Walk!”
Trill gave me a nudge and winked.
I hoped she had a plan.
3
Captive in Utopia
The vast width of the underground space was startling, easily able to accommodate six vehicles side by side. Trying to take in my surroundings, my head swiveled like a confused compass needle.
A scavenger threatened with his fist. “Stop gawking and get going!”
“It’s an old salt mine,” murmured Trill while the scavengers were distracted by an approaching crawler.
A flat, rock salt ceiling spanned the corridor. Dull bulbs hung from wires that crisscrossed overhead, bathing the walls in a cloud-like hue.
As we walked, secondary tunnels intersected the main passage. Massive carved columns were detailed with intricate patterns and exotic figures. In some areas, gold and rust colored stone swirled in alternating bands with the salt, creating a dramatic palette.
Doorways, few at first, appeared more frequently as we approached Nuvega. Some were hung with multi-colored rugs. Others were adorned with whimsical motifs of flowers and animals. Occasionally, a figured bench offered refuge to a sleepy animal.
The air was surprisingly fresh, devoid of the chemical odor that pervaded Hypor City. I inhaled deeply and felt a heady rush, followed a minute later by euphoria when I heard wisps of music coming from an open doorway. My throat choked with emotion as I strained to catch the melody.
Trill nudged me and gave me an ‘I told you so’ glance.
I wanted to sing for joy but couldn’t risk repercussions from my captors. Instead, I wallowed in the beauty of the unexpected musical offering. However, the pleasure was short-lived. Fifty feet on, the melodious threads were drowned by a cacophony of voices.
The tunnel opened into an enormous chamber. Other tunnels radiated from the open area like spokes on a wheel. We stopped briefly before entering the mass of bodies that swarmed in every direction. The crowd thickened, slowing our progress to a turtle’s pace.
“Is this the slave market?”
Trill shook her head. “It’s the central market.”
The deafening turmoil, the kaleidoscope of colors, and pungent smells of perfume and spices overwhelmed my senses. Trapped in the frantic melee, my tensed body knotted with anxiety until I detected the sweet strains of a familiar melody. I focused on the vibrations and started to relax.
As we passed the musicians playing the tune, Trill lifted her hand and waved to them. She looked at me and gave me another wink.
What was she trying to tell me?
Our captors stopped and engaged in a heated discussion. Finally, one of the men disappeared into the crowd. The other herded us to the outskirts of the mob and forced us against a wall.
“Don’t move or you’re dead,” he yelled over the noisy throng. He joined another group of men nearby.
Entranced by the activity around me, I soon forgot our captor. My gaze flitted from one person to another, attracted by the passing scene. I stared unthinkingly when I caught the attention of a passerby. At first his smile was inviting, but as our eyes linked, his narrowed. I panicked and dropped my head, pulling strands of hair over my face.
My heart pounded. Had he noticed my odd eyes?
I turned to the wall and waited several seconds then ventured a quick glance behind me. The stranger had disappeared in the crowd. Relieved, I cautiously continued to enjoy the surrounding spectacle.
The radiating tunnels gleamed with attractions. In one, stalls were draped with vibrant swaths of material. Another displayed clothing, shoes and boots. Others offered fragrant spices and exotic foods. Vendors hawked pottery, tinware and cooking utensils, along with tools and mechanical devices for every need. I spotted gold and silver jewelry and exotic gems along with chunky necklaces in colors I’d never seen before. There were more items than I even knew existed.
I glanced quickly at our distracted guard. “Where does all this come from?” I asked Trill.
“Most of it is brought in by scavengers. After the Rising, the receding waters washed all sorts of things into the sea. The floating stuff was easy to salvage. The rest has sunk by now. The scavengers use grapple nets to scrape the ocean floor. Some dive to retrieve debris as well.”
“So the items are cleaned up and sold here?”
“Or made into other articles people need. Plastics are especially valued because they last almost forever. Those gaudy necklaces are made of plastic.” She pointed to where I’d been looking. “The clothes are made from plant material harvested in greenhouse vats. The food is grown here too, but the bad stuff—like drugs and chemicals—comes from Prima Feminary.” She shook her head at my surprised expression. “You didn’t know?”
“No.” I was more saddened than shocked. Mother would be heartbroken to learn how her beloved sanctuary had changed.
A commotion broke out a few feet beyond us. The crowd pulled back. I stood on my toes to watch five women in shimmering body suits hang from a giant of a man, clinging confidently to his enormous arms while their feet rested on his thighs. To one side, a man swallowed half a dozen coins, then regurgitated them to the delight of the crowd. Across the circle, a woman contorted her body and disappeared into a tiny box before reappearing in a cloud of smoke. Magicians and jugglers vied for the crowd’s attention while dancers and singers wove their way through the throng.
Suddenly a group emerged in the central area. Four feet taller than the crowd, they wore glittering robes, tall square hats, and carried long staffs, lighted at the tips.
“Who are they?” I nodded discreetly in their direction when I saw our captor glance back.
“We call them Blasts,” replied Trill. “They walk around on stilts, harassing those who don’t believe as they do. If someone disparages them, the Blasts point their staffs at them and yell ‘blasphemer’. They’re a bit of a joke around here.”
Just then a woman floated by in a luminous, juba-like garment. She had a glowing halo in place of a hood. As she crooked her finger toward me, her mouth curled into a semblance of a smile. She exuded a dizzying odor.
“Come with me, my dear. Join us.” Her eyes glowed with an unnatural light.
“Get away,” Trill swatted at the woman, making sure she moved on before she turned to me. “Stay away from them. They’re seducers and evil to the core. They worship the moon. They’re as crazy as bats right now because of the upcoming solar eclipse.” She grinned at my bemused reaction. “Nothing like this in Hypor City, I bet. Look over there.” She nodded toward a woman with an albino python coiled around her body. Both were covered in pale yellow spots.
I laughed, almost forgetting our dire situation, until I spied more trouble.
A cluster of purple jubas slithered through the crowd. I thought my heart would pound from my chest. I yanked Trill’s arm. “Crouch down. Don’t let them see you.”
She squatted beside me but raised her eyebrows. “Who are we hiding from?”
“The Genetrix’s bodyguards.” I rose slightly and peered over nearby heads to see if the threat had gone.
Trill grabbed my shoulder and balanced on her toes while scanning the crowd. “The ones in the purple hoods? They’re here a lot. You’ll have to get used to seeing anyone and everyone in Nuvega. It’s the central trading hub on the planet. Why are you hiding from them anyway?”
“I think they might be looking for me.”
“Great. More bad guys. What
haven’t you told me?” Trill demanded.
“Ouch!” I yelled as our captor twisted my arm up my back.
“Stand up, we’re going.” He pushed us ahead of him. The second man had returned and led the way back into the crowd.
Once across the market, we entered a narrow opening in a salt wall. More like a gash than a doorway, it led into a gloomy corridor. For several minutes, we snaked through the dim passageway that eventually emptied into a marketplace noticeably different from the main one.
The air was dank. Absent were the heady odors of spices and perfumes of the primary market. Instead, foul smells of rot and sewage forced my hand to my nose. The only sounds were low conversations, moans, and the scratching of what I assumed were rodents.
Instead of exit tunnels, I spotted only doorways lit by red bulbs. Some were shut, guarded by brawny men. Others were open. Dark forms scurried in and out like rats, occasionally stopping to whisper or make exchanges in the shadows.
I tripped on something and stopped to look down. In the dim light, I glimpsed the faint outline of a body, limbs askew, unmoving.
Trill circumvented the obstacle and whispered urgently. “Don’t stop, keep walking.”
“Was he dead do you think?” In the gloom, I noticed more bodies propped against walls.
“More likely high on drugs,” she responded.
“What is this place? Do you know it?”
“Only from hearsay. Locals call it Utopia. It’s a hangout for gamblers, addicts and prostitutes. It’s also the market where they hold slave auctions.”
Her words terrified me and I reached for her hand. “Trill we have to escape.”
The scavenger punched my back. “Quiet.”
I stumbled forward and barged head first into a massive chest. Two meaty hands clamped my upper arms as I tried to recoil. Gazing up past hulking shoulders and a broad neck, I encountered a mess of twisted flesh. The man’s features were barely recognizable under a mask of scars and tattoos. I averted my eyes, repulsed more by the stench of the man’s breath than his face.
The Lost Prophecy Page 2
