by L H Whitlock
“Why not?”
“Oh, you know… I really don’t have an answer for that. I guess I’m just waiting for him to officially ask me. But he moves slow.”
“I bet he’s just timid because he doesn’t want to rush you, especially after all you’ve been through.” Nora’s respect for Deon shot through the lavender sky. She suspected he was so much more worried about Lit-ta’s trauma than what he wanted that he didn’t even realize they both wanted the same thing.
“You think so?” Lit-ta’s face lit up with hope.
Nora smiled and nodded as they approached the edge of the market. She liked the long way rather than the path through town. Using this route, she could avoid running into any more people like Griff. Maybe that’s why Grave didn’t go into town much, because he didn’t care for the company he found.
“I’m going to grab a few items. Meet you back for dinner later tonight?” Lit-ta said.
“You’re too kind. I’ll see you later tonight.” Nora watched her friend expertly weave in and out of the crowd, then started forward herself so she could browse the stands. She needed soap, shampoo, a new blanket, a new handle for the door, and some thread so she could sew her curtains.
The bantering of buyers and sellers made it hard to hear even her own footsteps. She kept her head low and her eyes on the tables, yet she still heard the howls of men as she passed by. A few grabbed at her, but she kept her pace steady. It was best not to show fear and not get caught up in the drama and jeers of immature men.
Up ahead, she saw blankets made of animal furs, and she made her way through the crowd toward the stand.
“Hey, little lady. You must be new.” The seller greeted her with a large friendly smile as she approached. He was a big man, though most around here seemed large. Beneath his long-sleeved shirt, she could tell he was lean and built, though she assumed you had to be to last in a place like this. His brown hair was windblown, and his blue eyes looked bright and kind.
“I am,” Nora said carefully. She took another small step forward, not wanting to get too close to a man she didn’t know. “I just got in a few days ago.”
“Ah, so you’ve survived one of our frigid nights and need some extra warmth, huh?”
“Yes, it’s quite cold, even with the stove.” Nora smiled as the hope and warmth of a good interaction filled her senses. See, I shouldn’t judge people so easily. He’s so nice! Maybe I’ve found another friend.
“Well, I have a few options for ya. Here is a gustor wool blanket. It’s the thickest and warmest I have, but also the most expensive.” He winced. “Much more expensive than most new arrivals can afford. On the lower end, I have a huilli hide. Not nearly as thick, but it will still take the edge off. That may be a more suitable option for you, but...” He studied her with a hand on his chin. “You’re so small, I’m not sure a huilli will suffice.”
Nora studied the various blankets. Some were white, and others dyed purples and greens. Maybe the merchant was right, maybe she didn’t have enough meat on her bones to survive a long night. Especially if she ran out of firewood. Last night she had woken up shivering on the floor even with the blanket and all her clothing wrapped around her body. No, she didn’t want to go cheap on a blanket she would need to rely on to keep her and a baby warm.
“I know it’s hard starting out here, so I’m willing to give you a deal. Spend a few nights in my bed, and you’ll not only be warm, but I’ll give you a blanket when you’ve had enough of me.”
Nora’s eyes widened and fear stuck in her throat. She felt panic lacing her veins, and she looked around to see if anyone stood by to come to her rescue, but no one else seemed interested in her.
“Oh, um...” Nora felt a flush rush over her cheeks, and she bit at her lip. She knew she wasn’t supposed to use money to trade, but she had nothing else. A few coins shouldn’t make a difference. It wasn’t like she had a fortune of them. “That’s all right. I have Tints.”
“Tints?” The man raised his brow. “From Yunnika?”
“Yes. Is that all right?” Nora asked.
“That’ll be twelve coins.” He placed his hands on his hip and smirked, his eyes laughing.
He doesn’t believe me! Her jaw tightened, and anger pressed her lips into a fine line. She pulled out her bag. I’ll show this asshole not to underestimate me. She carefully counted the coins, enjoying the shocked look on the man’s face. When she had a handful of currency, she dumped it on the table and gazed proudly up at him. Would this man believe she were once a queen? Someone with more money than he could count?
She swallowed the swell of emotion that followed. How could she be so vain! Thinking about money and enjoying having more than this man? No, I’m not vain. I’m just mad, and I let it get the best of me. She took a steadying breath and tucked her hair behind her ear, hoping the man wouldn’t notice how hot her ears were.
He smiled, unaware of her inner turmoil. He counted the coins one by one before tucking them into his pocket. “Which would you like?”
Nora studied them for several moments. “The gray one, please.”
He raised a brow. “Don’t you want a pretty one? There’s purple and pink and yellow.”
“Thank you, but I like the gray.”
“Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug. He unhooked the blanket and handed it to her.
She hugged it to her chest. “Thank you. What is your name?”
“Dexter. And yours’s, little lady?”
“I’m Nora.”
The man nodded. “I’ll see you around.” He offered a warm smile. Nora turned and made her way to the next booth, looking for some soap for her bath. She hugged the blanket to her chest and couldn’t help but think that the dark, steely color reminded her of Grave’s cloak.
10
Grave checked the door handle again to make sure it locked properly, then tucked the key into his pocket. He looked at the surrounding properties and found he was still alone. He hadn’t thought about how he would get the key to Nora.
No doubt that after her conversation with Deon and Lit-ta, she would fear him getting anywhere close to her again. He hadn’t meant to linger, only to check on her as he walked his nightly walk, but when he heard his name he paused and caught the tail end of their conversation, and it was a good thing, too, since Griff decided to antagonize Lit-ta again. He wanted to get rid of Griff, but Rikar convinced him they had to stick to their original agreement— they would follow a system of consequences and Griff still had one misdemeanor left before they couldboot him out. A shame because Grave thought the man deserved to be sent away.
What silly rumors people spread about him. It was true he was an experiment, a crossbreed. His genes had been manipulated into the perfect killing machine, and along with the physical traits he acquired, he also got a much longer life span then average.
Each man he had struck down scarred his heart. Deep down, he knew that was all he was good for; killing and winning his master a fortune. But he hadn’t killed thousands of men, only a few hundred.
He looked into the sky and wondered where his old master’s ship lurked, waiting as long as needed to get him back. Several of the colonists had reported a man asking questions about him.
He had no doubt that it was Vulnitro, waiting amongst the stars until Grave slipped up and left the sanctuary. His old master had quite the persistence, but so did Grave, and he had much more to lose. Several men had tried coming for him to drag him out of the walls illegally, but once they learned of Grave’s reputation, many forfeited the mission.
I’ll see you again one day, Vulnitro, but it won’t end with me in chains.
Daylight drained out of the sky as Grave stepped into the forest to start his perimeter check. He did them every night, all night long, usually sleeping most of the day away in his home in the woods afterward. Very few people knew where he stayed during the day, and he preferred it that way.
He had fixed Nora’s door handle because he didn’t want to encourage cr
ime, or at least that’s what he told himself. Because it was his duty to protect the townspeople. The truth was that he couldn’t bear the thought of someone breaking into Nora’s home and hurting her.
Silence twisted around the trees and only the sound of his boots stepping lightly over rotten leaves filled the noiseless void.
“Grave!” Nora’s voice drifted over him so gently he thought he imagined it. Then he spotted the purple-haired woman sprinting up the path toward him.
“Hey Grave,” Nora’s face lit with a smile and Grave found his heart slamming inside his ribs. He paused and waited until she reached him. Her breath came out heavy, and she clutched a thick gray blanket to her chest. Her cheeks were blushed from exertion and her hair tied into a loose bun.
“What are you doing out here in the night?” Grave asked.
“Oh, it’s not night yet. It was just beginning to get dark. Lit-ta showed me the long path this morning, and I thought I was back on it, but I guess I got a bit lost.”
A bit lost, indeed. She was close to the wall and half a mile from the town’s main roads.
“Follow me.” Grave turned and headed the way he came. He didn’t look back to make sure she followed, but he heard her feet kicking up dirt behind him and knew she was close behind.
The sweet scent of vanilla and spice drifted through the breeze, hugging him and making his muscles tense and his mind whir with thoughts unlike him.
“I know you were there last night,” Nora said, her voice heavy from trying to keep up with his long strides.
He forced a slower pace, and she came up alongside him. She studied his face for a moment then quirked her lips to the side. “Well?”
“I was a lot of places last night.” His gut clenched in anger, and instead of roaring his feelings, he clenched his fists so tightly, his nails dug into his palms. Those ungrateful idiots spoke of things they did not know. But he couldn’t blame them; even he considered himself a monster.
“I saw your cloak after that guy ran away,” Nora continued, unhindered by his coldness.
“What of it?” He found himself growling. Nora stared at him with wide blue eyes, and for a moment, he worried that she could see right past his hood. What would she think if she saw the rest of the jagged scars splitting his face?
Nora bit her lip and hugged the blanket tighter to her chest. Great. He scoffed and turned away, beginning his march down the path. Nora gasped as she raced after him.
“What’s with you tonight? I was just going to say thank you. That guy was threatening Lit-ta. He was going to… Going to…” Her voice trailed off. Grave knew what Griff had threatened to do. Rape wasn’t uncommon in the sanctuary. Nor was robbery, blackmail or fighting. Anyone that came here knew what this place was. If they wanted a peaceful place, they stayed on Yunnika or Morala.
Grave and a few of the other founders tried to keep crimes at bay, but they couldn’t stop them all. The sanctuary was large and had a lot of people, and a lot of problems. Instead, they implemented rules. If excessive crimes were detected and not stopped, the member would be asked to leave. No one was to use currency for trade; no one was to travel alone after dark, and so on.
Grave paused again for Nora to catch up. Her cheeks flushed pink from exertion, and her breath fogged in the cooling air.
“This place is not safe, Nora. There are not enough eyes to stop all crime; it was just luck.” But it wasn’t. Grave had purposefully passed by her house several times during his perimeter search, and when he saw her sitting with Deon and Lit-ta, he felt his face pale with shock and paused to listen in.
“Well, I’m really glad you were there.” She beamed at him, the tips of her little ears turning pink. They walked several minutes in silence.
“I got a new blanket.” Nora held up the cloth pressed to her. “The color reminded me of your cloak. Look.” She held the fur hide up to him for comparison. “It’s the same color.”
Grave looked down at her, his gaze, he hoped, swallowed by the cove of his hood. His brows scrunched together. Why would she want a blanket the same dingy gray as his cloak? He knew the merchants had prettier things.
“Tomorrow I’m going to start my garden,” she went on. “You know, this place reminds me a lot of Yunnika.”
Grave again found himself squinting in question, though she couldn’t see it. His lack of response didn’t seem to hinder her confidence and drive to talk to him.
“I know it’s silly. I mean, Yunnika is really…mild compared to this place. But in a way, it’s the same. We don’t have much technology there. Those glowing crystals and that tablet Rikar had are way more advanced than anything Yunnika has.” The wind blew Nora’s hair again, and she tucked it behind an ear in an attempt to control it. “That’s Hayme’s doing. I don’t know much about him, but he’s the one who keeps the tech out.”
“He wants to maintain power,” Grave grumbled. “If technology were introduced, people would realize he is a fake. That he alters the scrolls any way he wants and does not allow others to see, or they would know the truth.”
Nora’s innocent face dropped in shock. “The scrolls are altered? You can’t say such things!”
Grave looked deep into her gorgeous blue eyes, now wide and glossy with fear and glistening with tears. Damn him. This was all too much for her. None of this was her fault, yet he hated that she had been deceived.
“Nora, Hayme is a false prophet. He does not speak to your God; he only looks to maintain power.”
“I don’t understand.”
Grave’s hands clenched, and he flexed his forearms in agitation, a movement ingrained in him from the arena. This woman stared at him with innocent eyes, and he felt like he was stripping her life away. Just not in the same way he was accustomed to. He shouldn’t be around her. He shouldn’t be around anyone.
“Does the king not need Hayme’s approval for everything?”
“Well...” Nora bit her lip, and her eyes glistened as she looked to be diving into the question, searching for the right answer. “I wouldn’t say he needs his approval, but the king wants God’s approval, and the only one who speaks with the Scroll God is Hayme.”
“Really?” Grave growled. “Don’t tell me you believe in their little shows. Their ceremonies. What does he predict nowadays anyway? Harvest schedules, moon phases, war tactics, birthing genders?”
“Um…” Nora mumbled something inaudible but didn’t reply.
Agitated now, and not considering his words Grave continued. “All of those ceremonies are useless. Technology has advanced the galaxy to a place where we no longer need to guess and use some dated rituals of crushed leaves and shit. Science exists, but Hayme doesn’t want it introduced because he fears he’ll become irrelevant.”
“Technology? For birthing genders?” Nora clutched the blanket and rubbed a hand over the soft fur in loving circles.
“For nearly everything. We only have a touch of it on this planet, but access to whatever we want through trade. There are calendars to track the rotations of the moon, the times of year and rain schedules for crops, and weapons to wage war. They can even print entire buildings using a machine, talk to people from different planets, cure illnesses. Yet, Hayme would rather people die of a curable disease because that’s the way of the Scroll God.”
“What about telling the gender of a baby?” Nora asked.
Grave groaned. “That has been around forever. They have devices as simple as a urine test, or as complex as imaging. But instead of using something as simple as that, the Yunnikans choose to use a ritual of flower petals, tar, and wine.”
Nora’s face tensed, and her mouth opened and closed several times. “How does the urine test work?”
“I don’t know,” Grave said, throwing his arm out, the motion fast and violent, causing Nora to jump with surprise. “Testing an unborn baby’s gender has no meaning to me.”
“Oh, right. Um…” Nora appeared to consider what to say next. “Sorry.” Her gaze dropped to her feet.<
br />
Grave’s anger boiled. “Just because a society follows a religious belief does not mean they should ignore technological advancements that can help them. Yes, there are lots that go over the lines. Like myself, for instance. There should never be experiments done to alter our biological bodies, or weapons made that could destroy an entire galaxy like what happened to the old Horrow land, or enslaving people. But for things to help people live and prosper, that is what your Scroll God would want.”
“Have you met Hayme?” Nora asked.
Grave’s jaw tensed, and anger boiled over. He found himself standing rigid.
Nora appeared much smaller than before, and he realized he was sizing down his competition like he would in the arena. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog.
“I’ve met Hayme once,” Grave replied. “He’s a fool of a man, a thief of life and a sociopath. Yet, they give him divine power. He’s a phony. A fool. And those on Yunnika are cowards for following his word. Only the weak give one person ultimate power.”
The words of Hayme and his captor burned through Grave’s mind, damaging his reasoning.
A tall, slender man in heavy navy robes stepped into the room. He studied Grave’s hanging body, bound by his arms with chains and hooks into his hip bones so he could not move.
“What a wonderful design you are.” The man’s face seemed ageless, slightly creased with age yet held the youth of a man just before his prime. His skin had the pink glow that came from many Yun-one treatments, a new age nano-tech that allowed much longer lifespans. It was the same sort of nano-tech that had created him, the work of mortal testing the divine.
Grave wondered how old this man really was, and if the people on Yunnika had noticed that something was off or if they truly believed their God allowed him to live forever.
The man’s lips stretched into a thin smile as his brown eyes wandered over Grave’s scarred body.
His master entered into the room, addressing the priest as a longtime friend. “Your Holiness, I am honored you made the voyage to my arena. You must sit with me in my box tonight and watch Grave commit slaughter; you’ve seen nothing like it, I assure you.”
