Hunted: Alba's Story (Destined Book 5)

by Kaylin Lee

  The sight of Drew’s short, grubby fingers on my arm smothered my urgency. If it was as dangerous as Si said, there was no way I would risk this little boy’s life to get out. “No, Drew,” I said quietly. I glanced at Si. “I’ll be leaving by myself.”

  “But it’s not safe to—”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Si stepped to the side to head me off. “Would you just listen? I have a plan! I came back here for a reason. Or did you think I just stopped by to drop off suffio rations for my brothers after a year of silence?”

  My cheeks heated. I hadn’t given it a moment of thought. The previous night had been a blur, and this morning, all I had wanted to do was yell at Si. For Drew’s sake, and maybe my own, I had to swallow my anger. For now. “Then tell me. What’s your plan?”

  “I’m getting my brothers out of here.”

  “To where? And how can you leave if they’re obligated to work in the mine? Drew said they’ll find you.”

  Si shook his head. His green eyes were difficult to read. “I’m not telling you before I tell my own brothers. You’ll have to wait until tonight after dinner.”

  ~

  Dinner was victus and vegetable stew again but with fewer vegetables. The stockpile must have shrunk.

  “Did you know that in Asylia, everyone our age goes to school? They even have spots for regular students in the fancy Procus schools like the Royal Academy.” Anders’s eyes shone. “I bet if I study real—”

  “I don’t think those spots are really for regular students,” Basil interjected quietly. “Only for the best ones.”

  “Exactly.” Anders nodded proudly and punched his brother in the arm. “Like you! No Asylian is as smart as you. And I’m your twin, so …” He sat back in his seat and grinned. “I can’t wait.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t wait?” Si was hunched over his bowl of victus, his expression bemused. “And where did you boys hear this nonsense?”

  “It’s not exactly nonsense,” Damian said slowly. “Some of the new miners in the Hollow have been to Asylia before. They’ve been telling stories.”

  “Stories.” Si huffed and went back to his gray, half-eaten dinner with a grimace. “Don’t tell me you’ve been listening.”

  “They train commoners as healers in Asylia too.” Damian looked uncomfortable. “Even ones without mage powers. Especially since the mages can work outside the official mage roles now. They need non-magical healers in the hospitals, now more than ever.” He glanced at me. “Right, Alba?”

  I nodded and beamed at him, delighted by the turn of the conversation. “Oh, yes! Absolutely. There are so many opportunities in Asylia. All kinds of work and study for all kinds of people. You would all love it there, I’m sure.” And I’d personally see to putting some weight on their skinny frames. Wouldn’t it be fun to introduce Drew to my favorite frostberry cream pastries? “And if you don’t find work right away, the Asylian government always takes care of those in need.”

  “Those in need!” Si barked out a rude, humorless laugh. “You know how they care for the poor in the cities?”

  I shifted on the uncomfortable wooden chair, the slats digging into the back of my thighs through my threadbare, borrowed dress. “I do, in fact, considering my childhood. They offer victus, suffio, and cinderslick rations for all those in need. And there is always space for a new family in the River Quarter. Living conditions are sparse there, but your basic needs would always be met and—”

  “Sparse. That’s a bit of an understatement, don’t you think?” Si smirked at me. “I’ve heard stories, too, you know. You ever lived in a fifty-story tenement so sloppily built that it could collapse around your ears in a strong wind? Or a one-room shack with a floor that turns to mud every time the spring rains come?”

  “No.” I set down my spoon. “I lived in the upper room of a bakery in the Merchant Quarter.” My stepsister Ella had nearly worked herself to death to keep us out of the River Quarter tenements, but I wasn’t about to confess that to Si. “Wherever you live in Asylia, I’m certain it’s safer and more comfortable than struggling to survive out here in the Badlands. And there are opportunities for everyone. You have the chance to change things for your family.”

  Damian looked from me to Si. “She’s right, Si.” He sat straighter and squared his shoulders. “That’s why we want to move there.” Despite his confident posture, he bit his lip and watched Si warily, like he expected him to fling the bowl of victus into the air at the news.

  “Huh.” Si studied his brothers for a moment, then he went back to eating his victus. “Not surprised,” he said around a mouthful. “Every Badlander gets the idea at some point.” He jabbed his spoon in the thick, gritty stew and let it stand up straight. “Bet you’d love to eat this every night, wouldn’t you?”

  Damian paled and shook his head. “That’s not the point. It’s still better for the family. Some sacrifices will have to be—”

  “You know, if Asylia’s so safe and wonderful, why don’t you ask Alba how she ended up out here, struggling to survive in the Badlands with us?” Si folded his arms behind his head.

  The steady clink of spoons fell silent. The seven brothers watched me, their expressions ranging from intrigued to suspicious.

  My face grew hot. I did not want to discuss the story of my romantic humiliation, and certainly not in front of seven boys. Or six boys and a man. A strong, tough, grumpy man with a hint of a dimple on his left cheek and flashing green eyes that always seemed to be trained on me. “I guess it’s because the wrong man fell in love with me,” I mumbled. The flaming heat in my cheeks tripled in intensity. “It’s stupid, I know, but that’s why I had to leave the city.”

  Drew looked incensed. “So he forced you out into the Badlands when you spurned him?”

  I held back a laugh. “No, no. His mother disapproved, so he broke things off right away. But she was offended, and their family is powerful.” I hedged a glance at Si, who watched me knowingly. “She arranged for me to be sent out here because she wanted revenge.” I supposed now it couldn’t have just been because of Alaric that Lady Galanos had me sent out with the Sentinels. The Masters had wanted me, and she’d gone along with it because … because …

  The mirror. Could Ella and Weslan have been wrong about magic mirrors in the city? Was Alaric’s mother the Masters’ pawn in Asylia, after all?

  “He broke things off simply because his mother disapproved of you?” Anton curled his upper lip. “Is that what all men in Asylia are like?”

  “No! Well, I can’t speak for every Asylian man, but I don’t think so.”

  “Then why did you like him?” Damian peered at me through his spectacles like a healer inspecting inexplicable symptoms in his patient, his disagreement with Si apparently forgotten.

  I heaved a sigh. Why did we have to talk about this? “He was rich, handsome, and kind, and he thought I was beautiful. That’s why.” It took all my willpower to keep my spine straight and resist running to hide my embarrassment in the nearest tunnel.

  Si grunted and leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, but he didn’t speak.

  “So that Asylian man was just a coward.” It was odd to hear scrawny, friendly Anders, who couldn’t be more than thirteen years old, pass such fierce judgment on my former beau. “A rich, weak coward.”

  I shook my head, at a loss for words. What would Alaric think of this conversation? I crossed my arms. Alaric had been kind. Foolish and shallow, perhaps, but kind. Maybe he’d just been born into the wrong family and didn’t deserve our contempt. “He was simply a man,” I said finally, my voice firm. “Not a perfect man. No one alive is perfect, least of all me.” If I hadn’t tried so hard to attract a Procus lord’s love, regardless of my own lack of feeling for him, perhaps Lady Galanos never would have sent me out of the city.”

  But that didn’t make sense either. If she was working with the Masters, would she have found a way to get me out to the Badlands even if I hadn’t flirted
with her son? Even if I hadn’t overheard her speaking to the magic mirror?

  “Si.” Seven pairs of eyes locked on me when I spoke. I pushed my empty bowl away and clasped my hands on the table. “Everyone is here now. We’ve eaten. It’s time. You need to tell us your plan.”

  “His plan?” Damian frowned, then he sat back and crossed his arms, his expression resigned. “Yes, I suppose we should talk about all of it, now. Where you’ve been this past year. What you’re doing back home now. And why you apparently kidnapped our guest.”

  Si ate the last two bites of his victus stew, taking his time with each spoonful as though to make it clear he was in no hurry to explain himself. My ire from earlier in the day returned. When Si finally set down his soon, he heaved a dramatic sigh. “Could’ve waited until everyone was done eating,” he grumbled, shooting me an annoyed glance.

  “We’re waiting,” Damian said stiffly. “What’s going on, Si? Tell us everything.”

  “Oh, I’ll tell you everything.” Si raised an eyebrow at his younger brother. “And you’ll tell me all about that debt, right?”

  Damian flinched. His resigned expression shifted into one of apprehension. “You first, brother.”

  Drew was the first to break the awkward silence at the dinner table after Damian’s reply. “Where did you go after the accident, Si? And why did you leave us?”

  “I was around.” Si looked uncomfortable. “My leg didn’t work right anymore, kid. I couldn’t keep up with the mine’s quotas. You know that.”

  “But we could have given you some of our victus,” Drew said stubbornly. “Right?”

  Stefan nodded rapidly. “Right! We could have all stayed together. With the victus rations from the mine, there would have been enough for everyone.”

  From the way Anton’s bony collarbone showed through his shirt, and the way Damian wasn’t nodding along with the younger boys, I had a feeling that hadn’t been the case.

  Still … why had Si abandoned the younger boys? The more I time I spent around Si and his brothers, the less he seemed like the type of man who would leave his family to fend for themselves.

  “I tried my hand at the old family business.” Si shook his head. “Didn’t work out with the bum leg. So I just survived.”

  “Si …” Damian scowled. “I thought we were done with that.”

  “Done with what?” I interjected. “What was the old family business?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Princess. Damian, you want to hear the story or not, huh?”

  “Fine. Tell me.” Damian folded his arms. “What happened out there?”

  “I was coming by to check on you boys. Did that from time to time.” Si pulled at his collar. “A group of fancy guards from the city ambushed me outside the Hollow. They knew who I was. Said they had a job for me, and if I didn’t do it, they threatened that you boys might have a mine accident like I did.”

  Damian stilled. “What was the job?”

  Si jerked his chin toward me. “Find a girl named Alba Mattas and bring her to the top of Mount Vellus. They said she’d be coming up the mountain the next day. And sure enough … I went to the southern base, and there she was. So I snatched her.”

  His blunt retelling brought tears of anger to my eyes. I remembered the terror of being held in the small cave while the Sentinels decided to abandon me, Si’s callused hand over my mouth to smother my screams. “I can’t believe you did that to me,” I said, my voice raw. “You’re a rat, Si.”

  He met my gaze without flinching. “I was trying to do right by my brothers,” he said evenly. “Out here in the Badlands, an injury that hinders your work can mean death. But you’re right. I should have found another way.” He leaned toward me, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m sorry, Alba. The best explanation I can offer is that I have spent the last year in darkness.” His cheeks reddened, but his expression remained stony.

  I had a feeling it cost him more than he showed to confess his crime in front of his younger brothers.

  “I was dead wrong to go along with that job. And when you healed me instead of attacking me with your magic, I …” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it, but the darkness ended. For the first time since my mining accident, I could think straight. And I knew right away that I’d done the wrong thing.”

  “Chronic pain,” I mumbled. His story had caused an unwelcome tightening in my throat. “It can darken the mind. I should check your leg again, once we’re done. Make sure the repair is holding up well.”

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Does that mean you forgive me?”

  “It just means I’m a decent healer.” I shook my finger in his face. “And you better not kidnap me again.” I wiggled my fingers threateningly. “Or you’ll feel the full force of my magic.”

  His smile grew, making his dimple show. “Sounds alarming.”

  “So … you kidnapped Alba,” Damian said. “And then, because Alba is the warmest, kindest, most beautiful fair maiden in all the land—” Drew nodded his agreement, and Damian continued, “She healed you instead of killing you, which, by the way, was probably what you deserved. So you let her go. But why did you come back here?”

  “She healed me, brother!” Si shook out his legs, then smacked the fist of one hand into the palm of the other. “We’re back in business. Forget this mine. The owners are rats, and so are the guards. Let’s call this little bit of wholesome living a failed experiment. It’s time to get back to doing what we know.”

  “Oh, Si …” Damian rubbed his hands across his face. “We’re done—”

  “What is it that you know?” I looked from Damian to Anton, who flushed at my questioning look. “What are you talking about?”

  Si stretched his arms out and wrapped them around Stefan and Drew’s shoulders. “Why, we’re the best bandits in the Gold Hills,” he said, his jaw jutting out stubbornly. “And it’s about time we got back to work.”

  Chapter 19

  I gaped at him. “Bandits? Are you serious? You steal from people? No wonder you were willing to kidnap me!”

  Si just smirked. “And no wonder I was so good at it, huh?” He jostled Stefan and Drew then released them. “Snatched her right out from the midst of a full Sentinel team. They didn’t know what hit ’em. Thought she’d left on her own.”

  “Only because my sister helped you,” I snarled.

  “That’s right.” He frowned at me. “That was strange. Why’d she do that?”

  I pushed my chair back from the table and stood. “None of your business, thief. I’m going back to Asylia now, so just stay out of my way.” I’d spent the afternoon cleaning the mud out of my Sentinels uniform. Perhaps it was only slightly damp by now. I marched toward the river tunnel, planning to change out of their mother’s dress at last, but Damian met me at the tunnel’s entrance.

  “Alba, give us a chance to explain.” He pushed up his glasses and folded his arms. “Please. It’s not like Si made it sound.”

  “I’ve been waiting all day to understand what’s going on. And now that I know, I want to leave.” They were a family of bandits. Bandits! This new twist belonged in a fabulator crystal. The observation brought me no humor. A family of thieves? They would turn me over to Lady Galanos the first chance they got. How could they not?

  Si must have guessed what I was thinking, because he appeared at my side, his expression sober and all trace of boasting gone. “You’re safe here, Alba. I swear it. Will you take my word as a Badlander?”

  “You’re a thief,” I repeated. “What is your word worth?”

  “I’m a Badlander first,” he said quietly. “My word is worth my life.”

  I searched his face.

  He didn’t flinch under my doubting perusal—he just waited, his jaw tight.

  “You’re saying you’d die before handing me over to them? Whether Lady Galanos or the Masters themselves?”

  He nodded curtly. “You will always be safe with me.”

  “I doubt it,” I s
aid under my breath. But I couldn’t deny that, so far, he’d been right.

  “What was that?”

  “I guess I believe you. For now.”

  Damian finally relaxed his tense stance. “Thank you, Alba. Listen … we were raised by good people. Just because we live in the Badlands doesn’t mean we lack basic sense, understand? Our father was a skilled hunter, and our mother was a tinkerer, like Basil there. They made a good living bartering with the other Badlanders and the occasional merchant who ventured out of the cities. But when the plague hit, things got … hard.” Damian cleared his throat then shook his head.

  “Our whole family made it through the initial wave of illnesses,” Si continued for him. “But many of our customers in the Badlands were lost and the cities were closed for years—no merchants came out anymore. Still … we got by. We all pitched in, didn’t we?”

  Over at the table, the twins nodded solemnly. They couldn’t have been more than eight years old when the plague ended and the city gates opened. What kind of childhood had that been?

  “Our folks survived all that time.” Si ran a hand over his stubbly jaw. “But towards the end, the plague took ’em anyway. City gates opened less than a year later. I was barely fifteen. Drew there was only a babe. We were starving.” He gestured to the boys at the table. “You think this is bad? Shoulda seen the boys back then. All bones and dirty hair, rags for clothes, living like animals in the woods. Bandits went through what was left of our cabin as soon as our parents passed. We had nothing.”

  I imagined Si at fifteen, an infant Drew snuggling trustingly in his arms, the weight of his family’s survival resting on his young shoulders. If Si’s timeline was accurate, the cure to the plague had been discovered a year before his parents’ deaths. If only the Asylian government had sent purifiers and healers out to the Badlands! But they’d been too busy taking care of the city folk, hadn’t they?

  My anger fled. I was struck with a sudden, intense desire to fold Si into my arms—to heal the memories and the pain, to heal everything. “So what did you do?” Did I really want to know?