I led her down the steps, quickly but quietly. As we neared the bottom, I prayed they hadn’t anticipated my escape route. If they were waiting for us, I would have to fight our way out. It wasn’t likely I’d survive the fight. There were too many members of the Order who would overwhelm me, especially if I would not kill them. If Gatsby anticipated us, it would be worse. He might force me to kill him. He had already tested such limits in training, putting me in kill or be killed situations until our Masters called him off.
Finally reaching the bottom, I pushed open the secret door leading to the back courtyard. No one was training or praying, so the well-manicured courtyard was empty right up to the oppressive, wild tree line of the jungle.
There was only one option. “We must flee into the jungle.”
Emma’s hand curled around my arm. “You don’t seem sure of this.”
Yelling arose inside the Temple, and I knew it wouldn’t be long now.
“The jungle offers many dangers. But we will have a chance at survival in there. If we stay here, we forfeit that chance.”
The memory of my trials always wrapped a tight cord around my chest. We were ten years old when the Chevalier were sent into the jungle for a fortnight, pitting us against the elements, wild animals, and our will to live. Knowing now the trials were meant to manipulate me, the cord squeezed with unrelenting fervor. I turned to Emma, her face giving me the scrap of strength I needed from the depths of her enquiring brown eyes.
“Then what are we waiting for?” She asked before running toward the thick tree line.
#
Our pursuers were gaining on us. Soaked in sweat and heavy humidity, the only sounds I could hear were the berserk chirps of birds and insects. They too seemed to know we were giving chase. There was also Emma’s uneven, labored breathing as she tried to keep up without tripping into sink holes or over fallen branches. The humid air was heavy and sickening sweet with flowers and rotting dead plants, smothering me as I desperately tried to suck air into my burning lungs. I knew it must have been even harder for Emma, who was used to the cool, crisp, clean air of the mountains.
We were repeatedly slowed by having to climb over fallen ficus trees or navigate around the behemoth trunks of the trees still standing. There wasn’t time to go back and cover our tracks. No time to mislead them in another direction, our only choice was to move as quickly as possible and pray we would find a spot to hide.
The logical part of my mind knew there was nowhere to hide. My Masters need only cast the spell of last light to find us. Granted they could only conjure the spell just as the sun hit the mountains on its descent from the day to illuminate the missing, whether it was an item or person they were trying to locate. Judging from the slant of sunlight barely breaking through the treetops, it wouldn’t be long before they could siphon that power into a powerful spherical artifact. It was the same spell they’d use to find the bodies of those who did not survive the trials. Rather than let the jungle swallow the failures, my Masters would display them to the whole Order, claiming they were never true to the Light.
I remember standing in line outside the Temple with the four other remaining boys. No longer were we just soulless heathen boys, we were now Chevalier, Knights of the Light. We’d been allowed to bathe, our wounds tended, and we were given white linen pajamas. So very different from the gray and brown rags we had worn up until that point. I had survived with three broken ribs, an infected leg wound, and severe dehydration which had me continually licking my lips with a sandpaper tongue even as I stood in line. My hair was slicked back, still wet from the bath, just like others. I had chanced a glance at Gatsby at the other end of the line. His blonde hair was pulled back in a tight clean ponytail but his face had a greenish tint to it. He was covered in a sheen of sweat. He leaned against a stick meant to prop him up but seemed likely to plummet face-first into the ground any minute. Gatsby suffered a snake bite, which poisoned his blood, then he contracted the jungle sickness. He had emerged from the trees raving mad, vomiting blood, but he made it the two weeks and they treated him for his illnesses. Standing in line at the ceremony, his face was screwed up in intense concentration, as if he was willing himself to keep conscious.
Our Masters had cast the spell of last light and members of the Order went directly to retrieve the bodies. As the sun disappeared behind the mountains, the sky lit up in brilliant red and orange streaks that seemed to mimic the slash wounds on the chewed-up bodies of our soulless brothers lying on the ground before us. Eight bodies. I was proud to have survived and knew the divine had been at work in the trials, but my chest hurt when I looked at the fallen so I kept my eyes slightly averted from looking directly at them.
“They did not believe.” Master Ilsa’s voice boomed from where she stood, on the small podium behind the line of corpses. The rest of our Masters were lined up to the side of the courtyard with grim, yet fiercely proud expressions on their faces. That year, there had been more survivors than any of the preceding trials. The rest of the members of the Order stood in rows behind us, the hoods of their robes pulled over their faces. They did not speak to the soulless ones.
The second time I chanced a glance at Gatsby, it was after the bodies had been brought out. His cheeks were covered in tears. They corrected him for that later.
“They did not believe in the Light,” Master Ilsa was still speaking though it was hard to focus on her words. “And the hellfires of the Stygian came and claimed the nonbelievers. You remaining, may be soiled, soulless, and unworthy, but the gods have offered you the opportunity to prove yourselves. To serve the Light with your whole being and in turn, bestowed with that which you have lost.”
Master Ylang’s voice rumbled from just over my shoulder. I had been declared his ward, and was secretly grateful I had not been bound to Master Wu. “Look at them, Calan,” he said, his voice both stern and soft in a way that confused me. “Do not shy away from the fate you escaped. You are not a man. Men have souls, but you are now a knight. You are a fighter, and you mustn’t squander your opportunity to serve and redeem, where the fallen will now never know rest. Just do as you are told, and you’ll know eternal glory once more.” His touch on my shoulder was so light and brief, I wondered if it happened at all.
It was after that we were honed to siphon our devout belief of the Light into magic which would allow us to fight forces of the Stygian.
Running through the woods with Emma, it felt like I’d swallowed a rotten plum and it wouldn’t go down past my throat. My eyes watered as I swallowed the acidity of my Order’s lies. They had been just regular children. I was just a regular child. It had nothing to do with what we believed. I once heard a saying, ‘thrown to the wolves.’ That is what they did to us quite literally, except the beasts in these jungles were far more dangerous than a pack of mutts.
I glanced over at Emma. They wouldn’t get her. I wouldn’t let them. Not now, not ever.
Emma’s face looked thin and haggard as she fought for breath and to keep up with me. She wasn’t a trained warrior. From what I knew of civilians, few voluntarily pursued physical conditioning.
I wanted to tuck her into a safe place until her health and mind could be restored. Something in her broke when Travis accused her of abandoning her duty to save the world. A spike of heat shot through me as I thought of how Travis’s opinion had affected her so. Perhaps she cared more for him than I could admit to myself.
I shook off the disturbing image of them locked in an embrace. Emma and I had shared multiple moments of intimacy, bound by a fated psychic connection. I knew where her desires lay. Still, a small part of me was scared to stop running because I didn’t know if I could put Emma back together again. I didn’t have the answers. She’d been following me around, as I promised answers and guidance, but now I had none left to give. If only I had my magic, I could open a portal for us to step through, leaving all this behind forever. But I couldn’t. I wasn’t even sure we’d last another ten minutes.
&nb
sp; Leaves rustled overhead. Something was following us. Something not human.
Maybe less than ten minutes.
“Faster,” I urged turning to grab Emma’s hand, ready to drag her if need be.
“Calan.” Her voice wavered.
She had already been pushed past her limits. Her soaked hair stuck to her forehead and neck, and her skin had paled to a sickly pallor under a sheen of sweat. The green tank top was darkened entirely from moisture. Her red-rimmed eyes met mine, she bit her lip, silently asking me to forgive her for her weakness.
The leaves overhead rustled louder this time.
“No, we cannot stop. I will not lose you.” Before Emma could respond, I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder and broke into a run. Hampered by the obstacles of the forest, I was still too slow.
A growl emanated from the trees above, reminding me of a gravel grinder I once heard in the city. Instinctively, I dropped Emma and pulled my sword just as a creature crashed through the limbs above. Landing in front of us, was a jungle cat as large as a bear, with long powerful legs and cat ears covered in thick, dirty gray fur. Leaves rained down on its feral head. Its jaw unhinged with voracious hunger, allowing us a preview of a hundred needle-thin teeth, dripping with bloody saliva. It stank of freshly killed meat.
Emma yelped and backed away, only to hit a ficus tree. If we tried to get away, we’d have to have to get around the tree trunk which was almost fifty feet wide. The beast had cornered us. It rose onto its hind legs, the only thing between it and Emma was me, and I had already calculated the odds weren’t in our favor in such close quarters.
The crack of a gun went off. The beast jerked with a roar. Frothy saliva flung every which way from its mouth, some smacking against my cheek. Another crack, then another, and another. The creature brayed in pain, turning to the nearest tree and climbed up and away, large splatters of blood plopping into the floor of dead leaves.
As it retreated, it opened my view to the gunman, or rather, gunwoman. Regina stood in the open door of a modified car, a rifle propped against her hip. It was a small, round car, with rusted, eggshell-blue paint. There were no windows and long mechanical legs protruded from underneath the cab, like that of a spider. Phillip sat in the driver’s seat. They were both in their usual garb of black cat suits.
“Need a lift?” Regina asked, with a small knowing smile.
Phillip leaned over the passenger seat to catch my eye. “We have an outpost not far from here. It’s hidden and protected against any casting.”
I wiped the stinking goo off my cheek. That meant my Masters wouldn’t be able to use a spell to find us. If we were walking into a trap, we could deal with that later, but right now we had to get away from the Luxis before last light. Before I could think too much, I turned around and grabbed Emma’s hand and rushed us forward into their vehicle.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Emma sat quietly. Her face was still white and her hand lay limp in mine. I wished she were still wearing her thick pink glasses. I wanted a glimpse of the girl with a secret smile as she read. But the glasses, and her ease had long been left behind. We’d have to muddle on without either.
As if sensing her shock, Regina turned around as Phillip easily navigated the vehicle through the dense jungle. “The Luxis have their own designer monsters trolling the jungle.”
Emma stuttered around her words then cleared her throat to speak more clearly. “You mean the Luxis made that thing?”
Phillip threw over his shoulder, “It keeps out unwanted visitors.”
Regina and Phillip shared a secret smile, as if no place could truly keep them out.
It was then I remembered the last time I saw them, I had dead bolted them in a basement. I wondered if the family of the house came home and received a shock, finding a couple of strangers holed up in their basement, or if the agents of Veritas had found a different means of escape.
I looked out the window as we crawled through the jungle. Another stab of betrayal cut through me at Phillip’s explanation. I didn’t know the creatures had been designed. I had thought them indigenous to the area.
“They also used the creatures to hunt my brothers and me during the trials.” I said out loud. “If we lived, we were proclaimed Chevalier. If we died, supposedly we were sent back to hell. I was aware the creatures in these jungles are both abnormally intelligent and blood thirsty. Knowing this now, I suppose you could say their presence also ensures the right people stay in.”
Emma’s hand tightened around mine finally. When I looked up, her gaze was full of such compassion, it hurt me in a whole new way. Pity. I was something to be pitied. I swallowed and tried to give her a reassuring look. Now that I’d left the fold, they couldn’t hurt me anymore.
That’s what I told myself.
Last light came just as we arrived at the tree house. I felt certain between the sigils painted all over the inside walls and the height of our position, over fifty feet up into the air, that we would not be found. The agents had also climbed the car up into the limbs of a nearby tree, leaving it under a cover of many branches.
Regina sat on a stool near the small stone fireplace which cast dancing light onto the whole interior of the shack. They assured me they cast a concealment spell to hide any evidence of smoke. I was still doubtful. Phillip laughed, a deep, rich sound that sounded strangely familiar to me. I wasn’t sure if that was because I knew it from a lifetime ago, or if it resembled my own. I had only experienced maybe two or so belly laughs like that in my lifetime.
The only time I could recall was when Master Ylang slipped on a plantain peel in the courtyard. Master Violetta had been walking by and I was outside training. At first, Master Violetta’s laugh emerged as a sharp snort, and then another. Soon, she couldn’t help but throw her head back, her hands emerging from her robes to brace herself against her knees and laugh at Master Ylang as he slowly got up, rubbing his backside. A similar snort emerged from my own nose, and it took me several moments to realize Violetta was imbuing me with humor. It was contagious. Master Ylang glared at her for a moment before he began to laugh, too. Soon the three of us were laughing so hard, Master Ylang had to lean against a small flowering tree to keep himself upright. When Master Violetta wiped away some moisture from her eyes, we all managed to cease our laughter. I remembered it feeling wonderful, and it empowered the remainder of my practice though we never spoke of the incident again.
A sharp feeling of loss cut deeply through me as the memory our laughter was violently interrupted by the rush of knowledge that they had been lying to me. Even though they raised me, made me strong, I was nothing more than a tool to them. An obedient dog, told my only choice was to serve them. I pushed down the dark confusing feelings of loss inside myself, hoping to never taste their bitterness again.
When Phillip’s laughter died down, he said, “If you think you aren’t keen on being caught by the Luxis, imagine the many brave souls of Veritas who came to this outpost so near their enemy. No one has been caught here yet.”
“You mean brave spies?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow.
He shrugged with an easy smile then disappeared to do a sweep of the perimeter.
We had been offered clean water to drink and wash with. Emma passed out on the straw cot in the corner. The stress had taken its toll on her. I gently removed the now-empty tea mug dangling from her hand and set it on the crudely carved table in the middle of the tree house.
Meanwhile, Regina sat on the stool, sharpening her knife, doing so with an absentminded precision, indicating it was a task she did often. She kept her eyes on me though I did not start conversation. Fifteen minutes later, Phillip ducked back in through the doorway.
“They are miles away and off track.”
I nodded then looked into the fire. After a long moment of wrestling with myself, I asked, “Why would they do it? Why would they take me from you?”
Regina sucked in a breath, and Phillip closed his eyes as if in prayer. They were relieved t
o find I’d finally arrived at the truth. Though I hadn’t, not truly. To look upon the faces of these strangers and know they were my parents… it didn’t set with me. They didn’t feel like my parents. They were still just strangers.
“Of the five Orders,” Regina said looking down at her glinting blade. “The Veritas and Luxis have battled each other most fervently the last two hundred years.”
Phillip wryly chuckled. “Often we share the same goal, to serve the Light, but we use different means to achieve it.”
“We seek the same resources.” Regina said, now flipping her knife over her hand and catching it in her palm over and over again, in a practiced move. “The same texts, the same objects of power, and there is no compromise to be found on either side as to their use.”
I finally allowing myself to sit down at the bench set against the table to absorb their story. My muscles and bones ached, not only from running -- they didn’t feel like they were set right. I felt like a wooden marionette put together all wrong.
Though the jungle was cooling and the fire was small, I felt like I was suffocating. When the heat finally became too much, I fluidly pulled off my armored, long sleeved black shirt, stripping down to a white tank top.
“Twenty-four years and six months ago,” Phillip said, “we fought over the Orb of Thesis. It was a powerful object that would fuel a powerful person with the sight.”
“The sight?” I asked.
“The ability to see into the future,” Phillip supplied. He stayed standing in the doorway, his body erect, actively guarding us.
Regina continued, “The order of Luxis discovered the object, but Phillip and I had followed them and stolen the orb in the dead of night.” Regina stopped flipping her knife, her wrists going limp as her head bowed. “So they retaliated, coming under cover of the dead of night and stealing something of ours in turn.”
“You,” Phillip clarified.
When Regina looked up, fire burned in her blue eyes. “We walked right up to the Temple and banged down their doors until they let us in. I tore the place apart looking for you, but they continued to claim they did no such thing. I never found you.” Her eyes suddenly showed their age. Her life had been hard, and where she looked healthy and young for her age, it was her eyes that betrayed all she had endured.
Prophecy Girl (The Five Orders Book 1) Page 15
