Realizing there was only one way to stop Mallok from prying into things he shouldn’t, K wrapped herself in her darkness, allowing an evil smirk to tug at the corners of her lips. “I did it because I didn’t need you anymore, ‘my love.’ ” Hurt and confusion twisted his face, wrenching K’s heart tightly in her chest, but she maintained her emotionless ploy, knowing this was the only way to keep him safe. “You should have listened to the Council and your people Mallok, they were right about me all a long - I was using you.” Turning K began to pace the length of the golden star. “It all started out innocent enough of course. Me the naïve young pupil who had no idea who or what I was, and you the faithful, dedicated teacher who took me under your wing, teaching me and guiding me into becoming your perfect puppet.” Stopping in her tracks, K spun violently to face the table, once again allowing the darkness within to permeate the room. “And I played my part well, pretending to play dumb as you and your beloved Council used me for your selfish purposes… all the while continuing to learn and grow in my abilities. But the joke ended up being on you didn’t it,” K scoffed. “And like so many dedicated students before me, my powers and capabilities eventually surpassed even those of my teacher. But even so I hung around, because you fulfilled other needs as well… but alas, I eventually found another who was much more suited to fill those needs than you.” Watching as rage and bitterness contorted Mallok’s features, K braced herself to forever sever any chance the two of them ever had for redemption. Dropping her voice, she widened her smirk as she prepared to drive the final nail into her own coffin.
Relaxing her stance, K allowed her allure to drift over the room. “Honestly, Mallok, you made it so easy,” she purred. “You wanted to control, so I gave you control. You wanted to play the part of being my savior and protector, so I let you. I’d even wager you even believed the little show I put on the other day.” Dropping her head into her hands, K began to sob uncontrollably. Once her face was a mottled wet mess, she glanced back up at Mallok smiling wickedly, “Because she loved you.”
Mallok’s scowl deepened, recognizing her words from the other night. But K was anything but done. A low and distinctively evil laugh rose from deep inside, sending chills down the spines of everyone present. “And you believed it, just like you have always believed it.”
Unable to contain his angst any longer, Mallok stood, slamming his hand down on the long table. “You dare make a mockery of me in my own home!” he bellowed, his anger causing the candles around the room to flare to impressive heights. “Me, who has stood by your side when everyone else turned their backs on you!”
“Don’t be angry Mallok.” K chided, “I am merely answering the question you have been so desperate for me to answer.”
Mallok glowered down at her as he leaned over the table. “I know you are hiding something from me and I had hoped you would make it easy on all of us and admit the truth. Apparently, that is not going to be the case. But if this is how you wish to play, so be it. Let’s just see which of us lasts longer, shall we?” Standing tall to address the rest of the room, Mallok continued, “Since K refuses to cooperate with the request of this Council and admit her motive for attacking a fellow member, I hereby decree that she be starved of both blood and formula starting today and until which time she either voluntarily submits or is too weak to fight a Seer reading her for the information we need to make an accurate decision as to what her punishment should be.”
Cato grinned widely as K’s gaze fell upon him before returning to Mallok. Mouth gaping, she stepped back unable to disguise her shock. “You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t look so stunned, ‘my dear.’ I am just playing by your rules” It was now Mallok’s turn to smirk, as he eased himself down into his chair, spreading his arms out wide. “So let the games begin.”
Chapter 7
Maya and the rest of the crew lay on the edge of a colossal sand dune and peered over the edge at the residents of the Wanderer village casually going about their day’s activities. With Jarod on one side of her and Jaron on the other, their combined body heat this close to her, in addition to the exhausting heat of the setting desert sun, was becoming more and more unbearable. Removing a rag from her pocket, she steadily dabbed at the sweat beading on her forehead, while mouthing yet another silent curse at the miles of barren land surrounding her. It had taken them three days of travel to reach the Wanderers’ camp; three days of running in the unforgiving heat of the borderland’s desert sun, three days of trudging through mile upon endless mile of copper sand, and three days of continued silence from Jarod.
“Sir, how are we going to do this?” one of the men asked, drawing her attention back to her traveling companions. Zach, the youngest of the men, was a rarity amongst the Full-blood race, with his golden hair and emerald green eyes. Not only that, but unlike the other stereotypical bulky and heavily muscled Full-blood males lining the dune beside her, Zach was more narrow framed with an athletic build. Even so, according to Jaron, Zach was not someone who should be taken lightly. He had been chosen for this expedition by Tyran not only because of his ability to hold his own in combat, but also because of his unequivocal skill with a bow and arrow. It was rumored around the camp that his aim was unmatched and that he could hit an apple off the top of the jumping tower from the ground 15 stories below.
“There are only six of us, sir. And I am fairly certain they are not going to take it well if we just stroll into the middle of their camp and demand they hand over their leader.” Zach continued, as he adjusted his body in search of some sort of relief from the scorching sand beneath him.
Jaron scowled scanning the mass of movement below. “No, I don’t suppose they will.”
“That’s exactly what we should do,” Jarod argued, “They raided your camp and kidnapped K. We should storm in, tear the place to shreds, and demand the head of this Jericho.”
Raising his eyebrows, Jaron glared at Jarod, “Don’t be fooled by your senses Jarod. Though they may look it, these people are not Terrians, or the Full-bloods for that matter.” Turning his attention back to the crowd below, Jaron continued. “Wanderers are an eclectic mixture of people from different races and each person you see down there has some sort of hidden gift… a gift we have no way of knowing until they use it against us. Heck, I have known Jericho for over twenty years, ever since he took his father’s place as leader of this camp, and I still have no idea what he is.” Sighing, Jaron raked a hand through his sweat soaked hair, “We need to think this through logically… if there was just some way to locate Jericho and get him alone…”
“Let me go down there.” Maya volunteered, pausing as the gaze of all five men fell on her at once.
“And do what?” Jarod challenged.
Oh, so now you want to talk to me, Maya thought. Ignoring his question, she continued to address Jaron. “Let me go into camp. I can claim to be a refugee fleeing Vanteria, then ask to speak with whoever is in charge. Hopefully it will either lure Jericho into the open or reveal which of the tents down there belongs to him.”
“I don’t know,” Jaron frowned, “It would be hard to pull off. Vanterians have been forbidden from crossing the border for over a century now. Most of the people down there have probably never even seen a Full-blood before.”
Maya shrugged, “It was bound to happen sooner or later, especially with the Shadows in control. I can make it believable… besides, I am the only one of the six of us that they aren’t going to recognize from the camp…”
“What about me?” Jarod snapped.
Maya couldn’t help it, a loud laugh escaped her before she could slap a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. “Seriously?” she chuckled, meeting Jarod’s angry scowl, “assuming they haven’t already heard you mentioned amongst the residents of Oasis, do you really think you are the best person to present to them as a first introduction to the Full-blood race?”
Several of the other men, turned their heads trying to hide their amusement while Jarod conti
nued to scowl. “No matter, it’s better than sending you down there alone. What if something goes wrong?”
Like you care. Biting her tongue to keep the words from escaping, Maya reached for her bag and removed his daggers. “That’s when you resort to your plan.”
Reluctantly he took the blades before turning his attention back to his brother. “Surely you are not considering this?”
Jaron shifted his gaze back and forth between the two of them, before once again settling on Jarod. “I’m afraid so. She’s right, other than sitting here for days waiting for him to reveal himself and wasting time we don’t have, this is our best option.” Turning his attention to Maya he continued, “I am willing to let you do this. However, if you get down there, and anything, I mean anything doesn’t feel right, you bolt, do you understand?”
Maya nodded. Standing, she dusted off her clothes then swung her bag over her shoulder. Taking a calming breath, she crested the dune into the sight of the village and proceeded carefully down its steep banks. Comforted by the five sets of eyes she could feel watching her every step, she picked up her pace trying to beat the rapidly setting sun to the bottom. Though she knew without a doubt that any one of those men would not hesitate to leap to her aide, she still preferred to carry out this first meeting in the daylight, since her night vision was nowhere near as strong as the other Full-bloods.
She had made it about half way down the dune when she noticed a lone villager slinking around the corner of one of the tents. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with close cut brown hair, and enough stubble on his face to make her certain he hadn’t shaved in at least a few days. But what really drew her attention to him was his clothing. Though she shouldn’t have been surprised, since most of the tents in the Wanderers’ village were made of very bold colored canvas, Maya couldn’t help but be drawn in by what was possibly the brightest, most colorful outfit she had ever seen. Its loud contrasting colors and broad stripes, in combination with the obnoxious amount of gold and silver jewelry that adorned his body, made it more than apparent that camouflage was not of great concern when he dressed this morning.
Still captivated by his somewhat obnoxious appearance, she watched from a safe distance as the man peered around both corners of the tent as if he was trying to be certain he was alone. Once satisfied, he leaned back against the tent, pulled a strange looking object from his pocket, and shoved it into his mouth. Still appearing very apprehensive, he snapped his fingers and ignited the tip of his index finger in flames. Then, with one last look around him, stuck the burning tip inside the object dangling loosely from his mouth, inhaled deeply, and exhaled a plume of purplish smoke.
Unsure of what exactly was occurring in front of her, Maya watched mesmerized as, with each slow inhale and subsequent exhale, the man’s nervousness faded and his body relaxed. Unable to look away, she stood there gawking until a loud shout rose up from somewhere within the camp, followed swiftly by another and another. Turning her attention to the source of the ruckus, Maya jolted when she realized in her distracted state she had been spotted and was now being approached by a very angry group of armed men dressed in outfits nearly as colorful as the man she had been watching. Glancing back in his direction, she was met by his angry glare as he swiftly dumped out the contents of the object, and joined the rest of the men ascending the hill toward her.
All this for me? She thought, frowning as she counted at least ten men approaching. I would really hate to see what would have happened had Jarod come down instead of me.
“You there, don’t cha take another step.” One of the men demanded, his heavily accented voice snagging her attention. He was a slenderly built, middle-aged man, dressed in knee high boots, red pants, and a wildly patterned, multi-colored button up shirt. He had long brown hair that he had slicked tightly into a pony tail behind him, which left the dozens of pieces of dangly gold that filled his ears on clear display. As they continued to near, he raised his sword and pointed it in her direction. “Who are ya and what business ya got here?”
“I am not looking for trouble.” Maya shouted back, raising her hands into the air to prove her point. “Only a place to sit down for a bit and escape this cursed heat.” Raising her voice to a higher, more pleading tone, she continued, “Please, I have been traveling for days and don’t think I can continue on much longer without some sort of rest.”
“Criston, take it easy man, it’s just a girl.” One of the other men coaxed.
“Just a gurl my ass,” Criston snapped, his thick accent making him difficult to understand, “ya know just like I do what country be in that direction. And I guarantee if she made it this far on her own, she ain’t no Terrian.”
“What if she didn’t travel alone?” another voice chimed in from the back, “What if there are others?”
As the gap between her and the Wanderers closed Maya willed herself to stay calm as she came face to face with the angry, distrustful gaze of the man they called Criston. Keeping her posture submissive and dropping her gaze to the ground she continued to play her role of lost little girl, “There’s no one else, I’m alone.”
She could feel Criston’s steady gaze continue to glower down upon her trembling figure as the rest of his men slowly encircled her. Suddenly feeling very vulnerable and trapped, Maya resisted the urge to bolt as he placed the tip of his sword under her chin and forced her head up to meet his gaze. “Why should we believe ya?”
Maya’s heart clenched tightly inside her chest and it was all she could do to stop herself from reaching up and clutching her palpating heart. Sensing the anxiety she was feeling was more than just her own and that Jarod was on the verge of losing control, she knew she needed to diffuse this situation quickly, before he snapped and ruined their plans. Meeting the amber gaze of her captor she narrowed her eyes and lowered her hands, “Because it’s the truth and I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me.” Batting the tip of his sword away, she gestured to the men surrounding her, “You however, are giving me a lot of reasons not to trust you.”
“Sugar, you da the one who showed up at our back door, remember?” Criston smirked, resting his blade on his shoulder.
“Don’t call me sugar.” She snapped, “My name is Maya.”
Criston’s smirk widened as he brazenly raked his eyes over her body making her feel very naked despite the grey tank top and pants she was wearing. Instinctively she took a step back.
“How come you didn’t stop at the camp in the forest?” A tall, copper haired man asked from the back. “Why trudge all the way into the desert looking for us?”
Maya hesitated, thinking quickly to come up with a reason for passing by what would have been the obvious first choice of most Full-bloods seeking refuge. And her hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. Stepping forward, Criston closed the small gap she had just made between them. “Answer da question, sugar.” he prodded, making a point to draw out the pet name.
His condescending tone and cocky demeanor infuriated her to no end. “No.” she answered. Confidently straightening her back, she locked her gaze with his, sending him the message that she would not be intimidate by the likes of him.
“No?” Criston half-laughed.
“You heard me.” Maya continued, undeterred by his attempt to rile her. “I want to speak to whoever is in charge.” Turning she continued, addressing each and every one of the men surrounding her. “I want to meet the coward who finds it necessary to send ten armed men out to intimidate and frighten one small woman.”
Criston’s smirk faded, “How do ya know I’m not in charge?”
Placing her hands on her hips, Maya grinned widely, “If you are in charge, then I am the legendary White Queen.”
Several of the men around her chuckled under their breath and a few more coughed into their fists as Criston’s face turned several unnatural shades of red. “Why ya little…”
With her trapped inside the wall of his men, it took Criston only two long strides before he had her pinned.
Once again her heart clenched as he tightly took ahold of one of her arms, and even though she was most likely much stronger than Criston, Maya flinched, unable to overcome the natural reaction that years of abuse had ingrained into her. Closing her eyes, she turned her head, and braced herself for the strike she was sure was about to come.
A deathly silence filled the air around her as she continued to wait for the blow that never came, until finally after a few moments she warily opened her eyes and was met by Criston’s extremely saddened expression. Confused by his sudden change in attitude, Maya looked around at the others and realized they all were staring at her with similar expressions.
With a heavy sigh, Criston released her arm and stepped back. “Who be the coward that’s laid his hands on ya, sug?”
“What?”
“Thought I was going to hit ya, yes?”
“Well… I… uhhh,” Maya stuttered. The whole change in conversation and mood, was really throwing her off her game. Taking a moment to pull herself together, Maya straightened her shoulders and squared off with Criston. “That’s none of your business and I would rather not discuss it.”
Criston considered her for a moment then curtly nodded, “Understood.” He gestured to the group of men around her, “We all got secrets, part of the reason we’re here. But there be one thing ya do need to know.” He continued, his expression becoming very serious, “We don’t take lightly to men beatin on women ‘round here. Now, if we be in a battle and a woman be fightin, it’s all fair. But just to be hittin on one ‘cause ya can…” Smiling, an evil gleam shined in his eyes, “Well that kinda behavior will win ya a trip to the boxin’ ring with all the men of the camp.”
Maya smiled weakly and nodded. “Good to know.”
Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3) Page 16
