The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) (10 page)

“Eros,” Kenrya whispered again and
shook him by his shoulder.

Eros sat up abruptly, sweat
dripping from his face. His glazed look lasted only moments before he shook his
head and turned wide eyes to Kenrya.

“Are you all right?” She kept her
hand on his shoulder. “You were muttering in your sleep.”

Eros breathed deeply and wiped his
forehead. He drew in a quick breath and jerked his eyes around. “What time is
it?”

“Midnight. We’ll need to leave soon.” She slowly moved her hand from his shoulder. What difference did the time
make?

“I have to go,” Eros said quickly. He
jumped to his feet and started tossing his belongings into his pack. “The
Graeliths will kill him if I don’t reach him in time.”

“Who?” What was he talking about? Was
he delirious?

“The Plinte boy. I saw him. Graeliths
are hiding in the alley to attack him and others are coming toward him from the
opposite direction. They’ll surely kill him. I can’t let them kill another.”

He wasn’t making sense, but maybe
this was a good opportunity to leave without the others. “I’ll come with you.”

“No. You should stay with the
others. They need you more than I do.”

“Perhaps you’ve forgotten the
Graeliths from two nights ago,” she suggested, reminding Eros of the attack he
had handled badly.

Eros flinched. Then he shrugged and
said, “Come on, then. We have to hurry.”

“Do you even know where you’re
going?” She began gathering her belongings.

“A long, wide street with many
alleys to the side.”

“That could be anywhere in the city.
Think harder.”

Eros closed his eyes and scrunched
his face. “I saw the Plinte and Graeliths. No one else on the street. Oh! A red
sign with lettering. The sign read ‘Hearmo’s Meats.’” Eros described the sign
to Kenrya and she immediately remembered it. The street was a short walk from
where they were and an even shorter run. They loaded up their gear and turned
to find Lutra awake and standing behind them, arms crossed. They must have made
too much noise.

“Going somewhere?” he asked.

Kenrya was reluctant to explain, as
she wanted to flee with Eros alone to rid them of the other two, but couldn't
stop Eros from describing his dream. Lutra woke Arith and Eros explained again.
Arith's skepticism shown plainly on his face, but he agreed they would see if
the Plinte boy existed.

As others were roused and bags were
packed, Tip exclaimed, “Where’s my gun? I had it in the underground.” He looked
at Arith. “We have to go back!”

“Absolutely not!” Arith shook his
head. “We don’t have time.”

Tip sucked in a breath, then
crossed his arms and stared stubbornly at Arith.

Kenrya rolled her eyes and
pretended to remember she had taken the gun to ensure it was not lost during
the travel. She held it out for Tip. “I almost forgot I was keeping this safe
for you.” She forced her mouth into a tight smile.

Tip snatched the gun, examined it
carefully, and stashed it back in his inside coat pocket, shooting suspicious
looks at Kenrya. She turned her back, ignoring him, and helped Arith with his
pack.

Packs and gear loaded, the party of
seven climbed down from the rooftop and started in the direction of Hearmo’s
meat store. As they neared the large street, they heard a fierce fight down one
of the alleyways off to the side. They hurried to the end of the alley only to
discover the fight was on the other side of a high wall.

Eros removed his pack and searched
for a way over. Before he could find one, Lutra joined his hands to provide
Ampal a foothold to hoist himself on top of the wall. Eros followed Ampal and
climbed up. He gasped. The Plinte boy from his dream fought not two, but three
Graeliths with another three moving in to join the fight.

A thump to Eros’s right turned out
to be Kenrya landing on the wall with Arith and Prizene following shortly
afterwards. They leapt to the ground and drew their weapons, charging the Graeliths.
The fighting was fierce, with the Graeliths swinging both claws and swords. While
Eros blocked every blow, he failed to mount an effective attack. He needed to
strike or the Graelith would claim the victory! He dodged to the left to avoid
the treacherous claw slashing toward him, then swung his sword up to clash
against the Graelith’s sword a few inches from his face. He pushed the
Graelith’s sword away and pivoted, only to find the Graelith’s sword coming
toward him from his left, which forced him to twist sideways to block. As the
fight continued, his muscles tired. Fear crept up his spine and doubt plagued
his thoughts, as a sword swung from behind the Graelith and removed its head. The
Graelith fell to the ground, revealing the Plinte boy standing behind him.

Eros gasped for air. “Thanks.”

The boy nodded. “No, thank
you.
”

Eros observed the others, impressed
to find the other Graeliths were already dead. Apparently a few of the Lady’s
warriors had joined in the fight. Two of them were speaking with Ampal, while a
third had his arm around Prizene’s shoulders. Her face looked fierce, but her
sword was shaking. He searched the group for Kenrya. She stood over a Graelith
with the ever-present scowl on her face, blood dripping from her sword.

“You’re good with a weapon,” the
boy told Eros, drawing his attention. “You just need practice. I’m Azetan. Glad
you found me when you did.”

Eros introduced himself, stowed his
sword, and tried to slow his breathing. He seemed far more winded than the
others. Arith approached him and said, “Is this the boy you saw in your dream?”

Again, Eros nodded, still unable to
catch his breath to speak.

Arith stared at Eros for a long
time. “Have you seen any others in your dreams?”

Eros breathed deeply and nodded. “Yes
… sometimes. Most recently, a Plinte girl. Three Graeliths killed her.”

Arith raised his eyebrows. “When
was this?”

“Last night, when we slept
underground. Her skin was light. Her hair was dark and pulled in a tight knot. She
wore body armor and fought well, but lacked the strength to contend with three
Graeliths. They slit her throat.”

“Can you remember where this
occurred?”

“A small, dark alley.” Eros closed
his eyes trying to envision the dream. “I see writing on the wall. Something
about snakes and … rules? Don’t know what that means, though. The top of a
brown church steeple with a greenish hue is visible over the wall.”

“I know this place.” Arith rubbed
his chin, as seemed to be his habit when thinking. “A group of Hurfen teenagers
that call themselves the Snakes live in the area.”

Eros recognized the name of the
species. Their faces had a smashed-in look and their hair stuck out wildly in
all directions. Though they weren’t the smartest of species, he never knew a
Hurfen to be cruel.

The group bid farewell to the
warriors and joined back with Lutra and Tip to pick up their gear. Then they
headed in the direction of the alley from Eros’s dream with Arith and Eros
leading the way, Kenrya right behind them, and Ampal guarding the rear. As they
walked, Arith asked Eros, “Are both your parents Human?”

Eros raised his eyebrows — an odd
question. “My mother is Human. I never knew my father and my mother barely
spoke of him.”

Arith pursed his lips, “But your
father was Human?”

His mother never mentioned his
father’s species. Eros had always assumed his father was Human. “I don’t know. I
suppose it’s possible he might not be.”

Arith nodded in thought. “Humans
are not clairvoyant by nature and would never have witnessed the two Graelith
attacks in their dreams. Your father must be from one of the few species with
that ability. As a child, did you know any Greots or Raptans?”

Eros shook his head.

“Tyrnott?”

“No!” Eros exclaimed. “Most
certainly not!”

Arith barely seemed to notice
Eros’s hostility. “Tyrnotts can sometimes sense feelings when they touch
another individual and have been known to dream about real events. I’m not
aware of a Human and Tyrnott child, so the result of the genetic mix is
unknown; the ability could be different. Hmm ... What about Thelios?”

Eros hesitated and glanced at Arith.
“A Thelios man frequented our village and we often saw him in the marketplace. My
mother knew him well. But I look nothing like a Thelios.”

Arith continued walking and Eros
caught up with him. Arith seemed to be processing this information. “The only
other species able to see with the mind was the Gaelae, but the species was
destroyed and you obviously have no wings. The Thelios is the most reasonable
answer.” At Eros’s skeptical look, Arith explained, “I’ve always found genetics
fascinating. I studied with an ancient Bruner until the day I started the
undergrounders. A child with parents of different species may vary in
appearance. A small quantity of Theliosse arrived on the planet, which led them
to partner with other species, and their genes are generally recessive to
others. Perhaps you inherited his clairvoyance and your mother’s appearance.”

“Assuming he was my father,” Eros
replied sharply. Arith glanced at him again, then looked away without adding
comment. Eros suddenly felt a pain in his chest, a darkness crept over him. Could
it be that Jbetl, the man for whom his mother always had a warm smile or a
moment to speak, was his father?

After a short pause, Arith
continued, “Even more interesting is the genetic structure of a Miyran.”

Eros pushed memories of Jbetl from
his thoughts. “What do you mean?”

“The Bruner I mentioned was closely
linked with Lord Attol and studied under him. Fascinating species. Each heir
must mate with a completely different species from any other heir. The single
offspring with the gift inherits most of its genes from the Miyran parent, plus
the genes of unique traits from the other parent. This serves to increase the
power of the Miyrans. Over time, the Miyrans became the equivalent of the best
of every species mating with one of the heirs.” Enthusiasm coursed through
Arith’s voice as he continued, “I studied the intricate details of each trait
and the species from which it was obtained. The Miyran journey across the
galaxy resulted in a powerful species, and establishing this world for refugees
would allow them to continue. One day I hope to meet Anyamae in person so that
I might learn from her. Her experiences must be truly amazing.”

Puzzled, Eros asked, “But isn’t
Anyamae the only remaining heir?”

“Yes,” Arith replied with a tinge
of sadness in his voice. “I understand at one time a dozen existed. Apparently,
they live a very long time. However, persecution by other species reduced their
numbers and drove them to settle on this planet. You see, an heir may bear many
children, but only one of them is blessed with the gift of the Miyran. The
other children will inherit a more even mix of genes from each parent, but look
more like the non-Miyran parent and possess few, if any, of the advanced
skills.” Arith began gesturing grandly. “Here’s the really interesting part. The
child that inherits the Miyran abilities will resemble the species of the
other, non-Miyran parent until it reaches the age of sixteen. That’s when the
Miyran powers began to surface and the child transforms over time to look like
a Miyran heir.” He rubbed his hands together. “Amazing, really.”

Eros chuckled at Arith’s excitement.
His mother must not have known about the Miyrans, as surely she would have told
him. That may be why Arith thought Anyamae might use the mark to bring the heir
to her. If the heir looked like the non-Miyran parent, he or she could be
raised in any community without being identified … at least until the age of
sixteen when the Miyran genes began to surface. Curious. Was there any truth to
it?

They arrived at the alley from
Eros’s earlier dream. Lying just as Eros had envisioned was the Plinte girl. Arith
reached down and rolled the girl over, then gasped. He stood quickly, turned
toward the others, and raised his arms. “Everyone stay back.” Unfortunately,
this had the opposite effect, as the group seemed curious to see if Eros’s
dream was again real.

As Ampal neared the girl, Arith
tried to push him back. But Ampal’s strength was greater than Arith’s and he
easily pushed him aside. Then he expelled a cry of anguish.

“Ishta!” Ampal fell on his knees
beside the dead girl. He caressed her cheek and then cradled her in his arms.

Eros looked questioningly at Arith,
who said quietly, “Ampal’s baby sister. She celebrated her sixteenth birthday
recently.” He shook his head and knelt respectfully beside his friend. The
others followed his lead and dropped to their knees, except for Azetan, who
stood watch at the entrance to the alley.

Eros discussed several options for
splitting the group with Arith and Kenrya. The party of marked ones needed to
reach the western edge of the city. Yet, Ampal required assistance returning to
the underground, since it was well after curfew, and the underground was
impossible to navigate in this part of the city. The nearest underground
entrance to a usable section was a good distance away. Furthermore, if the
undergrounders left Ishta’s body to escort the marked ones, the Graeliths would
likely dispose of it prior to their return. Eros insisted the group of marked
ones could manage on their own and, fortunately, he and Kenrya were both in
agreement that Arith and Lutra should accompany Ampal.

Arith instructed Eros and the
others to travel to the training camp in the deep forest west of the city. He
provided a general description of the terrain they would encounter and the
landmarks they should seek. The entrance to the camp lay hidden in an area deep
in the forest where light never penetrated. Arith knew nothing more. Eros
listened carefully, committing the information to memory.

Arith, Ampal, and Lutra agreed they
would first return to the underground. Then Arith and a few others would
accompany Ampal to Banston, a few days southwest of Caldot on the road to
Kullac. The Plintes possessed significant skill in designing weaponry, as well
as artistic wares, and the Banston area afforded them convenient access to the
marketplace.

Arith removed smaller bags from his
and Lutra’s packs and left the larger packs full of supplies for the journey. Lutra
discreetly collected Ishta’s two swords while Ampal wrapped his sister’s body
in a blanket, then gathered her into his arms for the journey back to the
underground. As Arith, Lutra, and Ampal bade farewell to the others, Eros
approached Ampal and said quietly, “Sorry about Ishta. I should have told you
sooner. I wish ...”

“Eros,” Ampal replied with a
half-hearted smile. “This isn’t your fault. Besides, we would never have
recovered her body if not for you. The Graeliths dispose of bodies quickly. I
would guess the only reason they didn’t already is because this area is
secluded and she was unlikely to be found by anyone. We will honor her now,
rather than spend our lives wondering what had happened to her.” He paused for
a moment, then continued, “Did she fight well? This would bring even more honor
to her death.”

Eros said without hesitation, “She
fought bravely against three Graeliths. She severed the hand of one over there.”
He pointed toward the far corner of the alley.

Arith overheard this and walked to
the spot where Eros pointed. After searching the area briefly, Arith pulled a
piece of cloth from his bag and collected something from the ground, wrapping
it fully before placing it back in his pack. He looked at Ampal and nodded.

Ampal turned back to Eros. “Thank
you.”

Arith hugged Kenrya, which she
surprisingly returned, and then walked with Ampal and Lutra down the alleyway
and out of sight.

The marked ones watched the
undergrounders leave, then Kenrya turned toward the others. When no one spoke,
she picked up her pack and slipped it over her shoulders. “We need to start
moving. The Graeliths undoubtedly learned of the fight and will be searching
for us.” She asked Azetan, “Do you know these streets? One can easily become
lost among them.”

Azetan shook his head, “No. I know
the area to the southwest of the marketplace, not these streets.”

Kenrya pursed her lips. “I’ve
traveled among the main streets here, but not the alleyways. We need the
protection they provide to reach the western border of the city.”

Azetan and Eros put their smaller
bags into the packs Arith left behind and loaded the larger packs onto their
backs. Prizene attached the large coil of rope to her bag, redistributing the
weight among them. The group of five walked to the end of the alleyway and
considered their options — left or right? After a few seconds, Kenrya turned to
the group. “Let’s go left,” she declared, and headed off in that direction.

“Wait,” Eros called and Kenrya
stopped. “The sky is clear tonight and the moon full. If we can find it, the
moon will guide us in the right direction.”

Everyone looked at the sky. The
high walls lining the alleys, as well as the even taller buildings beyond them,
hid the moon from sight. They shifted around the small area in an attempt to
locate the moon. Kenrya placed her hands on her hips. “We need a better vantage
point. The walls are too high here. Can you really determine the right
direction from the moon?”

Eros shrugged. “It’s spring, which
means the moon on this side of Zolei will be visible just to the southwest. The
other moon rotates faster, but now is visible only in the early morning. Now,
if we waited a few weeks, then we could see —”

“Eros!” she interrupted, holding up
her hand. “I got it.”

Azetan winked at Eros. Kenrya
walked to an old darkened lamppost down the street. When the province thrived,
these lamps would have been lit at night, but not now. She removed her larger
pack and her vest, keeping the smaller pack on her back, and scaled the post
without much difficulty. Once she reached about twelve feet, she stopped
climbing. She pointed the moon’s direction to Eros. As she started to climb
down, Eros saw her pause and stare in the opposite direction. She was straining
to see something. Her shoulders sagged slightly. She whispered, “A group of
Graeliths and Tyrnotts with electric torches discovered the location of the
earlier fight when we found Azetan. And another group of Graeliths and Tyrnotts
are closer, moving through an alleyway.” As she shifted her weight to climb
down, she knocked a loose ornament from the old lamppost, which clattered to
the ground. Before she could move, a beam of light landed on her and Eros heard
someone reporting her location to the others. Kenrya jumped to the ground and
grabbed her belongings.

“They saw me! We have to move —
now!” she exclaimed. “Which way?”

“This way,” Eros whispered,
pointing in the opposite direction. “Follow me and keep an eye on the moon!”

Eros took off running down the
length of the street. They needed the protection of the alleyways, yet he
didn’t know which one to choose. The Graeliths and Tyrnotts pursued them with
little effort at discretion. Tip spotted the moon and pointed its direction to
Eros. Eros gained his bearings and chose the alleyway to the right. They took
several turns, always trying to keep the moon in sight. However, the moon
failed to prevent them from turning into dead ends. Eros’s mind began to race
through alternatives and his heart pounded as turn after turn led them down
another blocked path. The others were relying on him and he was failing
miserably. The next turn led them to a little plaza with six other alleyways
leading in different directions.

Eros threw his arms up in
exasperation. “How can we possibly find our way?”

The others looked either frustrated
or frightened, neither of which helped their situation. Eros wandered around
the plaza.
Which way should I pick?
Then he heard the Graelith, a
tracker. The trackers came first and would signal the others. The Graelith
rounded the corner of the alleyway and stood not twenty yards from the group. He
held his arm to his mouth and spoke into a communicator, relaying their
position. He made no effort to move closer, as he would wait for
reinforcements.

Eros looked at the others, who all
looked to him. He stared at the moon and then closed his eyes.
Someone help
me.
He was about to take the path to the west, when he heard a whisper: “Hey.
Over here!”

Eros opened his eyes and sought the
sound of the voice. In the alleyway to the north lurked a Hurfen teenager not
much older than he. The boy motioned Eros and the others toward him.

As they neared him, Prizene gushed,
“I know you. You served me in the little diner in the south. We’re lost and the
Graeliths are after us. Can you help us find the western edge of the city?”

The boy beamed with pleasure. “I
didn’t think you’d remember me! I know these streets well. This way.” He
gestured for them to follow. “I’m Jurf, by the way.”

The Graelith tracking them started
moving in their direction, so they picked up the pace. With Jurf leading the
group, they hesitated only once or twice at a junction while he gained his
bearings. After an hour of turn after turn, they had clearly lost the Graelith
and were deep within the maze of alleys. Tip, clutching his side, asked if they
could rest. Jurf suggested they climb a building’s outside ladder to rest on
the roof of the three-story building. This not only limited the chances of
being discovered, but would afford them a view of the area to determine the
whereabouts of their pursuers. All agreed and one by one they climbed to the
safety of the rooftop.

While packs were removed, Jurf
surveyed the perimeter, moving slowly in a hunched position around the edge of
the rooftop. He returned to the group with good news: “The alleys are empty. No
one walks here.”

Prizene introduced herself and the
others to Jurf, as they all hunkered down to rest. Tip rested on his good side
with his head on his pack. The others agreed they would alternate as lookouts,
with Eros and Kenrya taking first watch on opposite sides of the building.

“Thank you for helping us,” Prizene
said quietly to Jurf. “We never would have found a way through the alleys so
quickly.”

Jurf returned a goofy grin and
shrugged. “It was easy. I’ve lived here all my life and we used to play games. I
was always good at hiding and not being found.”

Prizene placed her hand on his arm
when she said, “You are risking your life. You know that? If the Tyrnotts or
Graeliths find out you helped us, they’ll kill you.”

“I never liked Tyrnotts or
Graeliths anyway,” Jurf replied with a disgusted look on his face. “A Tyrnott
kidnapped my sister a few years ago. She was only eleven. We were playing in
the alleys. The Tyrnott crept up behind us and grabbed her. I told him ‘no’ but
he punched me and I fell down some stairs. He held her under his arm and
carried her away. I started to run after him, but couldn’t keep up. My mother
heard me yelling and came running in time to see the Tyrnott climb into a
transport with my sister, who was fighting and screaming. As the transport
left, we could see her through the window. She was crying, begging for help. We
never saw her again.”

“What do you think happened to
her?” Prizene asked, eyes wide with horror.

“Don’t know,” Jurf said, his
shoulders slouched, and shrugged. “No one does. The Tyrnotts steal girls
sometimes. Most people don’t know that and no one believed us at first, though
we found others who lost a sibling or child. The girls never return. Maybe
they’re tortured or killed.” He stopped then and closed his eyes. Prizene
watched him clench his jaw and squeeze his eyes before opening them again. “I
hate Tyrnotts! I wish I could join the Miyran warriors. I want to fight, but no
one will tell me how to join. Can I go with you?”

“I’m sorry, no,” Azetan replied. “Only
those marked by Anyamae can join the Miyran warriors. My cousin’s sixteenth
birthday passed without the mark showing and he tried to join. He traveled as
far as the wetlands before warriors found him and sent him home. I was told
many unmarked Plintes joined back during the Graelith battles when more
fighters were needed, but not now.”

Prizene smiled at Jurf’s wish. After
all, hadn’t she been in a similar situation? Maybe she could help him. “Even if
you can’t join the warriors, you can join the undergrounders. They fight to
protect the marked ones and lend support to the warriors.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Jurf
sat up straighter, enthusiasm in his voice. “How do I find them?”

“Go to Banston,” Azetan said. “There
will be a funeral there in a week’s time and a few of the undergrounders will
attend. The brother of the dead is an undergrounder and will be one of the
Plinte accompanying the casket from Caldot. Just be careful not to expose his
identity or that of any others close to him.”

Jurf nodded, “Thanks. I’ll go as
soon as I leave you at the western edge of the city. Banston is many days’
walk, but hopefully I can make it.”

Prizene felt her eyes moisten. Jurf
was so desperate to be helpful that he would walk all the way to Banston. “Here,”
she said and pulled the bag of coins out of her pack. She counted out enough
for the transport, as well as extra for housing. “Take these coins, enough to
pay for a public air transport.”

“I can’t take these.” Jurf held up
his hands to refuse.

“Please,” Prizene insisted. “This
is the least I can do to repay you for helping us.”

Jurf stared at Prizene for a long
time — long enough, she thought, that perhaps the darkness lifted enough to
seduce him by Krystic charm. Eventually, though, Jurf took the coins with a
look of profound gratitude. He jingled the coins in his hand. “No one has ever
been this nice to me. Most treat me like I’m stupid.” Then he whispered, “Not
all Hurfens are, you know.” He stashed the coins in his pocket and stared dreamily
at the stars in the night sky.

Prizene whispered back to him, “I
know.”

*******

Kenrya patrolled the southern side
of the building. She watched dozens of electric torches bounce down the streets
and in and out of the alleyways. A soft breeze blew toward her face and she
breathed in the fresh, chilly night air. She turned her eyes toward the
southwest, soaking in the beauty of the full moon. To the west lay the darkness
of the forest. They were close, but navigating the maze of alleyways, even with
the Hurfen’s help, could still take hours.

While she scanned the alleys again,
she contemplated the fact she was still with the group, when she had intended
to leave much sooner. Prizene’s fighting skills surprised her and Azetan was as
impressive as she expected he would be in destroying the Graeliths. She shook
her head at the thought of Tip, the weakest link in the group. However, the
rest of the group was strong and skilled. Surely they were capable enough to
counterbalance Tip’s weakness. On the upside, she won the bet with Eros as to
the color Tip’s hair would be today, so at least he offered some amusement.