Tremble (Terraway Book 2)

by Mary E. Twomey

  I didn’t say anything; I didn’t need to. I cleared the space between us and tugged him down by his bare shoulders, kissing him like I was meant to in a dream.

  After a few minutes, Philip pulled back with a breathless grin. “You missed me that much?”

  “So much.” I reached for him again, but he held up his hand to stop me. “What?”

  He traced my cheekbone, scrutinizing my face. “Tell me what’s wrong. You’re upset about something.”

  “Too many somethings.” Too much had happened for me to talk about. Too much was still swirling in confusion in real life. My fantasy life got to be pure fun and escape. “It’s nothing I want to relive in my dreams. Now kiss me, and make me forget it all.”

  Philip indulged me, though I could tell he wanted the foreplay of chit-chat. I wondered what it said about me that my dream guy was playing hard to get. My fingertips danced across his chest, playing and flirting and teasing as best I could so I didn’t have to think about Mason and the whole mess. There were no hallucinations here. No former wives to worry about.

  Philip let go of his resolve to get a conversation out of me and moaned softly into my mouth, tasting my tongue as his hands migrated to the swell of my backside. “Tell me where you are,” he demanded between kisses.

  “I’m here,” I whispered. “I’m here on the island with you.”

  Philip stopped, as if I’d said something exquisite. He held my face, turning what could have been an animalistic moment into something tender. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear a woman say that to me.”

  “Shut up and kiss me.”

  He tried a few more prodding questions, but I put his mouth to use kissing him, which as it turned out, was what Philip did best.

  I awoke abruptly to something wet dripping on my face. I wiped it away, but it was replaced by another drop, and another. When I finally was annoyed enough to open my eyes, a man I had not expected to see was towering over me. Dark brown skin, angular jawline, black eyes and a geometric face tattoo stared down at me. “Lang? What the crap?”

  “It’s time,” he whispered. “We’ve been patient long enough.” Before I had my wits about me, Prince Langgam scooped me and the backpack up in his muddy arms and flopped me down on the bed between Von and Mason.

  “No! Stop!” I cried, waking up the others. Danny was slow on the uptake, but Ezra leapt from his cot and rushed Lang. The mud prince stretched out his hands, touching Mason, Von and me just before Ezra crashed into him.

  On the first half of my scream, I was in the hotel.

  By the second, I was sucked under the ground and dumped in a pile of limbs under the light of the harsh morning suns of Terraway.

  25

  Delicious Baga Root

  My head swam as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. Prince Langgam’s rude awakening had yet to be addressed, falling in line behind assessing where the crap I was.

  I landed in the mud, which now coated my arms and half my bare legs. I shuddered, my OCD creeping through my bones and reminding me with a constant nagging poke that there was no soap or distilled water for me in Sakuna. There was no escape from the ick that seeped into my pores, taunting me with the knowledge that I would never be normal.

  I blinked around in the morning light, breathing through the mania that made me want to scream and wash my hands until they bled. I counted back from ten, telling myself with confidence that my bedroom was perfect, with no dirt or germs in it. If my bedroom was clean, then I could deal with the dirt that was inevitable outside my fortress. I blew my nerves out through pursed lips, reminding myself that my medication was still in my system, whereas the last time I’d been here, I’d been off it.

  There was mud everywhere, but through parts of the brown I saw a promise of green. New life was sprouting up here and there across the unending expanse of mud-soaked land, broken up only by clusters of rural huts. I even saw dozens of nourishing beige buhay shoots forcing their way through the muck. Though I knew it would take more than those to sustain Sakuna and keep them from dying off, it was a start.

  My bare foot sunk an inch into the mud when I stood, and I cringed at the slurpy ickiness that coated my knees and shins. No sooner was I on my feet did I get knocked over by the two battling bulls. Mason and Lang were on each other, with Mason being clearly stronger, but Lang used to fighting in such unhelpful terrain.

  “You dare take me from my bed in the dead of night?” Mason threw Lang onto the ground and punched him across the jaw.

  Lang grabbed a fistful of mud and slapped it into Mason’s eyes. “It’s time! We need the sagrado stone. We’ve been patient long enough. My people need help now!”

  “We were getting you help by building up the reaped souls!” Mason growled, not needing sight to punch Lang again. Prince Langgam of Sakuna was huge. He had dark brown skin, black feathery hair and muscles like The Rock. Lang took as many swings as he could get in on Mason, who was livid his sight was so compromised. Mason was Matruculan, which meant that Lang only had a handful of seconds before Mason overpowered him with his superhuman strength that came from his uncut dreads.

  Ezra pulled me back up and guided me away from the raging men. “Are you hurt?”

  “What the crap is going on? What just happened?”

  “Prince Langgam apparently didn’t want to wait. It looks like the mission to divide up your sagrado stone among the seven nations starts tonight.”

  “Six nations,” I corrected him. “You forget I’m a mass-murderer. Thanks to me, the Goblins don’t exist anymore.” I still couldn’t shake that, no matter how often Ezra tried to tell me it was all somehow kosher.

  Ezra looked around, and I watched as his tension deflated slightly. “Prince Langgam didn’t bring Mariang or Danny down here. That’s good. They’ll be safer up there. I know Danny will be sore he’s missing out, but my daughter’s not well enough for the journey.”

  Von came up behind us. His gym shorts and dark green t-shirt were spattered with mud, but somehow he looked like he was the model for the outfit, and it was supposed to come off the line looking exactly like that. He was the perfect magazine ad for a line of soccer apparel. He had a few dots of mud across his angular jawline, but it only made him more handsome. I don’t know how he did it. Maybe it was a vampire thing. We were all barefoot, and I was wearing the same purple cotton shorts and snug yellow t-shirt I’d gone to sleep in.

  Mason had Prince Langgam in a spine-twisting hold on the ground. I looked around at the land that was mud, covered in more mud. “Let them duke it out. I don’t much care. Can I just break off a piece of the stone now and put it anywhere?”

  “No, dear. We’ll keep the stone hidden as much as we can until we get to the castle. In the courtyard, there’s a well that feeds the people. We sink it down into the well, and the rock will forever cure the main supply of water of any imperfections. Then the crops will grow more easily and the water will remain safe for drinking as long as that stone is there.” Ezra pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, but it was stained with mud. “Oh, sorry. I meant for you to be able to wipe off your face if you wanted, but it appears I’m useless.”

  “Aw, thanks. I’m alright. And that’s a pretty nifty little rock we’ve got, if can do all that.”

  “Hold tight, darling. I’ll port us all to the surface once Mason’s finished punishing Prince Langgam.”

  I tilted my head up at Ezra, ignoring the burn on the backs of my hands that longed to be scratched. “If we’re here, couldn’t we just finish the stone bit now? I mean, as fun as it is being abducted, I have a feeling it’ll stop once the nations each have their piece.”

  Ezra stared down at me with compassion and something that looked akin to pride. He stood straighter and rolled his shoulders back. “I think that’s a splendid idea.”

  “How far to the castle?” I grabbed the backpack out of the muck and cringed as I slid it onto my back. I knew one errant touch from the rock, and it would turn anyone bu
t me into stone, so I made sure I was the one who carried it in the backpack, on the rare chance the bag ripped and it accidentally touched the carrier.

  “That’s the spirit,” Ezra cheered. “We can start out toward those mountains over to the north. Those two will catch up when they tire of deciding who will dominate this time around.”

  “Mason never tires of that battle. It’s constant,” Von groaned. “Shoes would have been nice. And you know Danny will be in a right state that he got left behind.”

  Ezra rubbed his forehead as he spoke. “Danny’s usually in a state over something. At least this time it’s a true fit he can throw.” I eyed Ezra appraisingly at having cast out a disparaging remark about the golden boy who guarded his daughter. He shrank noticeably. “Not that I don’t admire his judgment. I only meant this time I’m sure his upset will last quite long.”

  I started walking toward the mountains in the distance that seemed so small on the horizon. I began to wish for comic book hero powers to inhabit the magical creatures I traveled with. If only one of them could snap their fingers and sha-zam us there in a blink. “So none of you can teleport? I mean, Lang got us down here. Couldn’t he have gotten us a little closer?”

  Ezra was patient with my limited knowledge of all things unicorn. “Only royalty and certain high-ranking officials can port in and out of a country, and we always land in the same spot that welcomes newcomers. You always enter Sakuna right here, for example. The atmosphere’s easier to navigate Topside, so we can port anywhere on earth with more precision. Anyone who ports into Sakuna lands themselves right here in this spot of mud, though. But you can port out from anywhere in the land.”

  “Huh. Alright.” I didn’t look to see if the others were following me. I wanted to make good time, and knew the wrestling twins weren’t going to sort things out any time soon. I was barefoot, covered in mud, braless and in my pajamas. I pretty much wanted to get this first leg of the journey over with as soon as possible. I could drop part of my doorstop in the well in the castle courtyard and head on home. No big deal.

  I made it maybe twenty yards before my lungs started to complain that the oxygen felt too thick to drag into my prematurely tiring body. I remembered the last time Lang had abducted me, I’d lasted maybe twenty minutes before nearly passing out. I was a decent runner, but I knew I’d never make it to the mountain in time. “Oh, crap on a stick. Anyone find a solution to me not being able to breathe down here?”

  Ezra frowned and turned to the dueling bears, who were now completely covered in thick brown muck. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me a moment.” He tried to get their attention with his cutie pie British manners, but failed. Von clapped his hands and whistled, but Mason was intent on making Lang suffer for besting us.

  I shook my head and stomped over to the men, counting to five before the prison worker in me reared her mud-spattered head. I reached down and snatched at a pressure point on Mason’s shoulder and Lang’s, cutting their fight short. Or stopping it at intermission. They seemed pretty committed to the takedown that Mason had been clearly winning.

  “Ow! Ow! Stop!” they exclaimed, squirming like little boys as I twisted the nerve to leave a sting I knew would last at least a minute.

  I had them both on their knees in front of me with all the practiced patience of a kindergarten teacher. “Boys, does anyone have a plan for me breathing down here? Not that I don’t love watching Lang try to kick your butt, Mason. And not that I don’t love watching Mason humiliate you on your own turf, Lang. But see, over the years I’ve developed this terrible addiction to breathing.”

  Lang shook off my hand and rubbed the sore spot between his neck and his shoulder. “I’ve got the baga root. I thought of everything this time.”

  I reached my hand under his chin, relishing the small window where I had an advantage on his gargantuan height. Lang looked like The Rock, but meaner. The Rock had that sweetie pie adorableness that got him occasionally cast in kids’ movies. Lang possessed no such softness. I thumbed his face tattoo, surprised he let me play with his skin without a fight as he knelt before me. “You took me without my shoes, a change of clothes or even checking that a full stock of souls was stored up. Not that I don’t appreciate you wanting to help your people, but darlin’, you didn’t think this plan through.”

  Lang didn’t apologize. His eyes darkened with gravity that fell like a gavel of doom. “Father made good on his word.”

  It took me a solid three seconds before it clicked what Lang meant. My intake of breath probably wasn’t wise, given the rationing I would soon have to do with my oxygen, but it was involuntary. “He made the pregnant women give up their babies? When? But I’ve been reaping overtime! I made sure there were enough souls so that wouldn’t have to happen!”

  “It was already in motion. Father ground up patayin root and threw it into the river. All the pregnant women lost their young.”

  Ezra and Von both gasped, their hands covering their mouths.

  Lang pressed on. “Next will be the prisoners if another drought happens. There’s no waiting anymore. Father said he’d kill everyone in his prison on the first day the suns waver this time.”

  “Then the elderly,” I recalled, finishing his thought for him as I ignored the angry growl from Mason. “Gerda. She’ll die if I drop the ball.” I softened as I glimpsed the note of fear in Lang’s black eyes as he nodded. It was then that I saw that he wasn’t trying to be a monster by taking me in the middle of the night. He was desperate for help. He loved the old woman who softened him and looked after him well into adulthood. She’d been kind to me, too. “You’re scared for her.”

  “Yes. That’s why I couldn’t wait any longer. When Titus attacked, I knew I had to take you first before anyone else did. We need that stone. I won’t let her die.” Lang leaned into my touch, looking up at me with suddenly earnest black eyes that had more vulnerability than I’d anticipated. “I waited until you had at least a week’s worth of souls. That’s more than enough time for you to deliver the sagrado piece to my land.”

  “A week doesn’t mean a thing if I can’t breathe.”

  Mason stood and watched me thumb the prince’s chin with a firm look of dismay tugging down the corners of his mouth into his muddy beard. “October, what you’re doing is inappropriate. He’s a prince, and things are quite different between men and women down here.”

  “You don’t talk to me,” I said quietly, reminding him he didn’t have a leg to stand on with me. I’d trusted Mason, let my guard down enough to sleep in his arms, allowed him to sleep in mine. He was the second man I’d ever kissed, and he used the rare hallucinogenic effect that kissing an Omen has on a civilian of Terraway to see his long deceased wife. I’m not sure how many levels that was allowed to hurt me on, but I’m guessing nine levels of pain wasn’t too many for the sting to still feel fresh.

  “She can do with me what she wants, if only she’ll save my people.” Lang was sincere, which softened me further. It was getting difficult to breathe, but I spent a few seconds watching his face for signs of falsity. I was generally pretty good at spotting blatant lies. “Please, Lady October. I can’t take you back until my people are safe. We need this.”

  I’m not sure why it made me feel powerful to make a man behave like a boy, but when Lang’s hand covered mine as he looked up into my eyes, I found I couldn’t maintain my anger. I knew I could either throw a fit that he’d acted impulsively, or I could suck it up.

  Guess what I’m the queen of.

  “On your feet, soldiers,” I said as I flicked Lang’s earlobe, releasing us both from the almost moment. When Lang stood, his six and a half feet of towering half-naked muscle made my bossiness laughable, but I went with it anyway. “Let’s move it, boys.”

  Lang pulled a gnarled piece of ginger out of his pocket and extended his filthy hand to me. “Here. Eat this, and you’ll be able to breathe for about a day. I’ve got more than enough for the journey.”

  “Oh, cool. Thanks
. How do I… Do I peel it? Doesn’t anyone have any water to wash it off with?” The pocket lint and mud and who knows what other kinds of germs were crawling all over the thumb-sized bit of root I was expected to put in my mouth.

  Von gave me a you-can-do-it look complete with a thumbs up. “You just shove it down the hatch, love. We don’t have any water on us.”

  I shot him a look that begged him to be joking, but I knew this was par for the course. My OCD was being tested left and right, and I knew I couldn’t punk out with all eyes on me. It was a tough call which one would win out: my OCD or my need to breathe.

  Von moved toward me and held his hand out for the root, careful not to touch me. He’d been avoiding me since he’d tasted my blood last night and attacked. I wasn’t mad, but I had a healthier fear of him now. I’d been sleeping with a kitten who turned out to be a tiger instead. He’d told me he was a tiger. I don’t know why I hadn’t believed him.

  Von wiped off some of the dirt, trying his best to clean the root for me. “Better?” he asked as he handed me the thing that would save my life down here.

  I guess beggars can’t be choosers, but we can be wusses. A quiet whimper was the only sound that made it out of me when I choked down the root. It was squishy and spongy, like overchewed gum when I bit through the center. It tasted like licorice mixed with a piercing lemon rind that made my eyes water as I choked. “Ack! That’s terrible! Oh!” I stuck out my tongue like a cat hoarking up a fur ball.

  The germs infested my insides, flooding through me like a thousand ants that wanted to lay eggs in my organs. It was one of the few times I actually wanted a Puller, but neither of mine could be trusted.

  Instead, I reached for Ezra, gripping his forearm in distress to keep from screaming and clawing at my body. The sweet man drew me into a hug I couldn’t participate in, but desperately needed. It wasn’t quite the same magic as pulling, but Ezra’s kindness did its best to flush the impurities out of my system, chasing away the plague of ants and replacing it with a fatherly affection I’d tried never to need. “You’re safe with me,” he promised, not taking offense that I couldn’t bring myself to hug him back.