Maya stepped forward. She had no choice. Even if she attacked him, he might manage to kill Arya before she could disarm him. That risk she could not take.
Perhaps she would get a chance when she was alone with him. She would rather kill herself than let him use her in an evil ritual to further his ambitions.
“Come on, nice and easy…” Archan kept his hand aimed at Arya as his eyes followed Maya’s progress towards the cage. His eyes gleamed with greed. Perhaps, he sensed his imminent triumph.
With a sudden twist of his body, Arya jumped forward and at the same time, let loose a bolt of bright-hot light that hit Archan near his feet. He pulled Maya away from the cage.
“Go, run!” he yelled even as he created a ward around her to protect her from a magical attack.
Archan bombarded him with fireballs but Arya caused them to stop in mid-air. Within moments, the air in the room was stinging with spells. Fire, smoke, gusts of wind and bolts of searing light zipped across the confined space, making it a battle ground from which only one victor would emerge.
Despite Archan’s weakened power, he was more powerful than Arya. Soon, Arya knew, he would die. He could not hope to win from Archan who had dedicated decades of his life to hone his magical skills.
Suddenly Archan’s body stiffened. He fell to the floor, thrashing and rolling wildly. His body jerked and his eyes bulged. He foamed at the mouth.
“Maya?” Arya got up.
She was coiled around Archan’s ankle, her fangs deep in his leg. Archan’s body jerked. He screamed in anguish.
The scars on Arya’s chest had torn open and blood was smeared on his shirt. The room door burst open and all of Archan’s men streamed in, their guns drawn and at the ready. The two wizards stared at their master’s dead body.
Arya raised his hands. The men, seeing Archan rolling about on floor in pain and the snake still wrapped around his leg, threw down their weapons and ran away. The wizards took a cautious step back.
Maya changed shape. She swayed on her feet, feeling dazed. Bracing her hands against the wall, she took deep breaths.
Walking over, Arya put his arms around her. His gaze remained fixed on the two wizards who couldn’t take their eyes off their master. “Are you ok?” He wiped the sweat from her forehead.
Her skin was clammy and cold. She was exhausted. It had been a long tiring day. “I’m fine,” she said.
“He’s…” Arya looked at Archan.
“He’ll live.” Maya breathed heavily as she sagged against the wall. “He’ll be unconscious for a few hours. The venom was not enough to kill him. I should’ve killed him…but I couldn’t. He will however lose his magical powers.”
“You can do that?”
“With great ease,” she muttered.
“Do you want to share the same fate?” Arya asked the wizards. “Leave now, and take him back with you.”
Hearing this, the two wizards ran forward. They carried Archan out and scurried off, probably heading for the portal that would take them back. Losing one’s magical power was one of the worst fates a wizard could suffer.
“I should have killed him.”
“It’s ok.” Arya hugged her close. “You don’t want to dirty your hands with his blood.”
Maya looked at him. “What about you? What do you plan to do now?”
Would he leave now? Emotions bubbled in her heart as she wondered how she would survive without him. Would she be able to live with the pain of his rejection?
“I’ll be here forever. I think I’ll quite enjoy living in this world,” Arya whispered in her ear. “I love you.”
Maya turned, and saw in his eyes what she wanted to see. She smiled, her eyes filled with tears.
“I love you too,” she said, quite unable to believe that he loved her despite knowing who she was. It was a miracle, a gift from the Goddess--and one she was willing to grab with both her hands.
Their fingers linked together as his lips captured hers in a kiss. Her heart thumped as she felt his love course through her body in a song of joy.
About the Author
Sabine A. Reed’s other books include The Black Orb, a fantasy e-novella published by Uncial Press. She has her own blog and is available on twitter and facebook.
The Black Orb
Prologue
The old man stood in front of the heavy oak doorway. It was close to high noon but the rays of the blistering sun barely penetrated the thick canopy of the trees that hid the ancient stone structure from prying eyes. The door was covered with creeping ivy. Dusting off mud from his cloak, he stepped forward and muttered the words that had not been uttered in over three hundred years.
"La Khatam Duan Ma Yuan Veil."
A shudder went through the earth beneath him in response to the magic he invoked.
He suppressed the urge to flee.
"La Khatam Duan Ma Yuan Veil."
Once again, the earth beneath his feet shook restlessly, almost as if to warn him not to proceed.
Ignoring the knot of fear that wedged itself in his stomach, he repeated the same words a third time, setting in motion a sequence of events that might lead to his eventual death. The doors started to pull apart, leaving an opening big enough for a grown man to squeeze through.
He walked inside the Tomb of Issar, the long-forgotten God of War. When he emerged, the sun was nearly down. In the faint evening light, he glanced at the treasure clutched in his hand and broke into a fast run, towards the clearing where his horse was tied.
The hunt had begun. And there was not a moment to lose.
Chapter One
Aria stood at the corner, waiting for the mark to show up. Earlier, she had spotted him at the fair. He was loitering near the food stalls, stuffing his already bulging stomach with sweet cakes and eyeing the women around him with a lecherous gaze. She would have easy pickings tonight.
There he was, lurching forward on unsteady legs. Clearly, he had been drinking steadily through the night.
"Hey, handsome!" she called as he drew near. Thrusting her hip at an angle, she angled her body towards him. "Wanna have a good time tonight?"
He stopped and gazed at her out of glazed eyes. "How much?"
"For you, darling, only three silver coins." She ran her fingers through her long, black tresses and pouted at him.
"Are you mad, woman? One silver coin and that's it."
"Oh, you drive a hard bargain." Aria giggled and sashayed closer. "Do you have a room?"
"At the corner of the street." His words were slurred. "Come. I'll give you a good time tonight."
Drawing her cloak tightly about her, Aria covered her head with her headband. She did not want the tavern keeper to remember anything about her. Her mark staggered his way to the tavern and led her upstairs. Late as it was, there were not many customers at the bar and the tavern keeper was busy cleaning in the kitchen.
Once they were inside, he closed the door and took off his cloak. "Show me the goods, sugar cake." He slapped her lightly on her buttocks.
Obligingly, Aria took her cloak off. She was wearing a low cut grass-green gown underneath, one that showed off her bosom and tiny waist to perfection.
He grinned and licked his lips. "Well, well. You're a fine looking woman. If you're as good in bed as you look, I might keep you for the entire three nights I'll be here. Come here now. Lose the gown."
"What's the hurry?" Aria nodded towards the jug of ale that stood on a table in one corner of the room. "My throat's parched. Let me have a drink first."
He took off his tunic and scratched his hairy chest. There were two leather pouches hanging on a belt around his ample hips. "Pour me one," he ordered.
As she walked over to the table, Aria slipped her hand inside her satchel and took out a small wooden box. She bent to place her satchel near the table. With her back towards her customer, she opened the box and put some powder in the ale cup before pouring the ale for him. With the box safely hidden in her hand, she offered him the a
le cup.
He drank it down in one big gulp.
She took the cup from him and placed it on the table. As there was no other cup in the room, she dared not chance pouring herself a drink. The residual powder might still be in the cup and since it was a highly potent sleeping potion, she did not want her senses dulled. There was still much work left ahead of her.
"Come now, my pretty, drink up quickly." He was already fighting to keep his eyes open. "Let's not waste any more time."
After taking one step towards her, he swayed and fell to the floor. Even in sleep he wore a surprised expression.
Aria put the box inside her satchel. The powdered drug worked fast, but its effect would wear off before dawn. Before that, she intended to be far away from him.
With nimble fingers she unhooked his belt and took off his coin-filled pouches. One was filled with silver coins and the other with gold. Taking out three gold coins, she set them on the table. The tavern keeper would be paid and her mark would have enough coin to go back home.
She searched the rest of his luggage and found nothing of importance, save for personal belongings and a few pieces of fine ladies' cloth which he had probably bought for his wife. Those she left in the room. She donned her cloak, tying it under her neck to make sure that her gown did not show, and slipped out of the room.
Stealthily, she walked down the stairs of the tavern, the stolen bounty hidden in her satchel. No one was in the bar and the main door was closed. Aria slipped the chain off the hook and hurried out before the tavern keeper came to investigate.
It was late. The half moon hung luminous in the sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. The streets of Kalaba were deserted. Close by a dog barked and was answered by another one. Thieves and drunkards roamed the cobbled lanes, looking for easy marks and harlots. It was not safe for a young woman to be out alone.
The city was set in a haphazard manner; houses sat next to taverns and shops nestled alongside random dwellings. Narrow lanes crisscrossed each other, all leading towards the main square of the city. Overfilled drains spewed muck on the lanes and doorsteps of the houses.
Aria set off in the opposite direction, making for the far edge of the city. She knew every turn of the lanes and was soon near her destination. As the first rays of dawn broke through the cover of the night, she slipped her key into a keyhole and entered a small foyer. Quietly, she swung the satchel off her shoulder and walked through the darkened hallway into the kitchen. After groping in the dark, her agile fingers found the short white candle and the matches that lay next to it. She lit the candle and stood back as it cast the room in an eerie yellow light.
"Where've you been?"
Aria jumped. "Shayla!" A petite woman with an exasperated look on her face stood in the doorway watching her. "You scared me half to death."
Shayla entered and pulled back one of the rickety chairs beside the table in the center of the room. "Serves you right. I was up half the night worrying about you. Sit. I saved some soup for you."
"You shouldn't have." Aria took off her cloak and hung it on a hook. With a quick swipe, she removed the headband that covered her black curly hair and tossed it on the table, along with the satchel. She was hungry, not to mention bone-weary from the day's work. Yawning, she sat down on the chair. "Where's David?"
David was Shayla's five-year old son. Her husband had died two years ago, leaving her alone to raise the boy. She did a good job keeping a roof over their head by running a fruit and vegetable stand in the local market. It was not a luxurious existence but it was an honest one, she liked to say--a fact over which she always clashed with Aria.
"David's still sleeping." Shayla lit a fire under the soup pot that was already on the stove. It was a bare kitchen, with few well-used pots and pans. "Where have you been? I thought you were at the fair and would be back by midnight?" There was resignation in her voice. She did not approve of Aria's choice of profession.
Aria was not a woman of loose morals. She was a thief and a con-artist. Her victims, over the years, had been old and young, handsome and ugly, short and tall, mostly male but not always. The only element in common being that they were all rich. She'd been running a scam at the fair for the past week, pretending to read people's palms and telling them their future. "I was leaving and then I saw this fat man ogling women. He was such an easy mark."
"I wish you would stop doing that." Shayla frowned. "It makes me uneasy to think of you doing such dangerous business alone, without anyone to help you. If only Marcus was here..." Picking up a simple wooden bowl from a shelf above the stove, she ladled a generous portion of soup in it. She placed it in front of Aria, along with a big slab of homemade bread.
Aria sighed and answered the unspoken question. "I didn't find him." Marcus was her older brother. He had been missing for the past three weeks. Ordinarily Aria would not have run the harlot scam without him being there as her backup but she needed to earn a living. Since he had not come home for so long, she had been forced to work without him.
"Did you ask everyone at the market? They all know him well. Perhaps, someone saw him?" Hope simmered in Shayla's tired eyes. It was clear she had not slept well.
Aria shook her head. "No sign of him anywhere. I don't know where to look next. This has never happened before."
"Marcus has disappeared for days before," Shayla said. "You've told me so yourself." A desperate edge of fear sharpened her voice. "Maybe he went out of town and can't find his way back?"
"Marcus isn't stupid." Aria snapped out the words, and instantly regretted causing the hurt in Shayla's eyes. Shayla was as worried about Marcus as she was.
Her brother was a simpleton, a child inside a man's body. He had been like that since childhood. His vulnerability made Aria all the more protective towards him, despite the fact that she was younger.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Aria shook her head. "It's just that I know that if he'd gone out of town, he would've come back by now. He would never leave us alone for so many days, knowing that David, you and I would be worried about him. Are you sure you didn't have a lovers' tiff that made him want to take off?"
A warm blush covered Shayla's cheeks. "I would never fight with Marcus. Never!"
Pressing her fingers to her eyelids, Aria took a deep breath. Shayla and Marcus had been lovers for the past eight months. The fact that Shayla was five years' older than Marcus had caused Aria some misgivings initially. She had been distrustful of the older woman at first, but Shayla's open and honest love for Marcus soon won her over.
"There is no alternative," she muttered, almost to herself. "I'll have to check the guards' list for the prisoners."
Shayla gasped. "You don't think..."
"It's the only thing left to do," Aria whispered. Every few months, the Queen's guards rounded up young and able-bodied men from the streets of various cities and villages and sent them off to the capital, Akba, for an oath-taking ceremony before the Queen. Once the men took their oaths of loyalty, they were sent to the border for training. Many of them returned as city guards and some remained at the border as border patrol. Over the last few months, there had been rumors that such round-ups had increased in number and that the Queen was enlisting more men for a war with the neighboring country, Bagdesh.
Usually, Aria paid little attention to the activities of the crown. Her survival and that of her brother's was paramount.
All that had changed since her brother's disappearance over three weeks ago. For the initial few days, she had not worried. Despite his childlike behavior, Marcus was capable of taking care of himself. It was possible he had followed a potential mark out of the city.
Now, so many days later, Aria knew he was in trouble. He would never have left them for so long. Fear for her brother's safety was a thick cold fist around her heart.
"But the prisoners? Most of them never come back." Shayla sat down.
Sunlight streamed in through the windows and cast thin silvery streams on the rough table. Aria r
eached forward to pinch the wick of the candle between her thumb and finger. For a long moment, neither woman spoke. Aria dipped her spoon into the soup and stirred, unmindful of the delicious aroma that filled the room.
"Marcus will come back," she said finally, and spooned the hot soup into her mouth, not even wincing when the hot liquid burnt its way down her throat.
She would make sure he did, for he was all she had and losing him to the Queen was not an option.
"How would you get the list of those taken?" Shayla placed her hands on the table. "It must be in the Guardhouse. No one would let you in."
"I'll have to sneak in and steal it."
"Steal the list?" Shayla gaped in shock. "The Guardhouse has more than fifty guards. It will be impossible! And if you get caught..."
"I'll be hanged for treason." Aria said with fake nonchalance. "But don't worry. I won't get caught. I'm good at what I do."
Shayla gulped but did not say a word. But the worry etched in her eyes conveyed a million thoughts.
"I'll find Marcus," Aria vowed. He was her only family. There was nothing she would not do to ensure his safety, even if it meant risking her very life to do so.
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