The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) (6 page)

As they made their way through the
dimly lit underground passage, Eros kept his eyes on the girl. She walked like
a man, at least like the men in his settlement. What had his mother told him
about Arlian women? Or perhaps it was one of the traders that had traveled
extensively? Yes, it was one of the traders who had told him something about
Arlian women. He had said they were unusual. That was it. But in that one word
the shifty trader, who was notorious for his romantic escapades, had conveyed
an intriguing thought. Now Eros analyzed the girl again, scanning her up and
down. He guessed her clothing covered whatever the trader had meant. Well,
given the smell, he was unlikely to see for himself, despite her attractiveness.
As he doubted bathing facilities were available in the underground, he pushed
the thought from his mind.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Does it matter?” she returned
without bothering to look at him.

Ouch! She sounded angry. He tried
again: “My name is Eros. Thanks for helping me back there.”

“Right. Whatever.”

“I owe you my life, so ...”

She turned abruptly, her face not
inches from his, and said firmly, “Stop talking. Do you want the Graeliths to
find us?” She rolled her eyes, shook her head, turned back, and continued
walking.

He looked down and followed. Her
large, black boots had a thick sole and buckles clasped the length of the boot.
They made squishing noises with every step. She wore the full, lightweight
pants common in the city, but she tucked the pant legs into the boots. As the
pant legs were flared and could interfere with quick movements, this seemed
quite sensible. Yet they struck him as rather comical, though he couldn’t
exactly say why. They were likely red at one time, but the color had faded and
dulled with dirt to a grim, rusty hue. A flowing shirt was generally worn with
pants of that style. Instead, she wore a tight, long-sleeved, black top of a
soft-looking, bulky material. Over this, she wore what appeared to be a small
bag, and on top of that, a full, calf-length black leather vest, which was
equally worn-looking and had small rips around the bottom. What a strange
combination of clothes. Over the vest, she carried a larger, dark bag. What did
she carry around the city? The bag appeared to be as full and heavy as his. He
lifted his shoulders and shifted the weight to his other side.

They continued through the tunnels
in silence. The girl must have spent considerable time in the underground,
since she never hesitated at a junction. Eros tried to keep track of their
location, based on his memory of the city’s layout and the few glimpses of
buildings and streets through the overhead grates they passed. They were
probably still on the south side of the city, the poorer section, evidenced by
the lack of transport noises filtering down to the passageways. At one time,
city transports provided regular and quick travel all over the city, as well as
to the outbound regions. However, as the city degraded and the power resources
became more scarce, transports traveled less frequently, particularly in less
wealthy sectors.

As they turned the next corner,
Eros heard voices. He strained to listen, to separate voices from the city
above from voices in the underground. While he was uncertain as to the source
of the voices, they grew louder with each turn. Within minutes, they were close
enough to distinguish angry shouts. He assumed — hoped, even — that the girl
would turn away from these angry undergrounders, but she continued onward.

They turned right and a flickering
light shone ahead, light that wasn’t from the streets above. In this region of
the underground, openings to the city were scarce, so any sounds they heard
were from below ground. The end of the passage opened into a larger space
toward which they now walked. As they reached it, she slowed down and paused,
looking around. Eros joined her and peered into the great, cavernous space. The
floor dropped ten feet below them, creating a dwelling nearly eighteen feet in
height. Eros gauged the dimensions to be roughly thirty feet in each direction.
In all his visits to the city, he had never ventured into the underground and
was amazed to realize such large spaces existed, completely hidden from view.

He scanned the vast room, guessing
there to be twenty or more beings engaged in a tense argument over something. Two
men stood not a foot from one another and yelled loudly without stopping to
listen to each other’s words. One of the two was startlingly tall and hulking,
with equal parts fat and muscle. Given the size, the bald head, and the
multitude of body paintings, Eros recognized the species as Skurk. The female
Skurks were built similarly, though they generally had short hair. More than
one of the group belonged to this imposing species. The second leader was
shorter, though extremely fit and well-toned. Eros failed to recognize the
species because his view was partially obscured by one of the other Skurks in
the group. As the two argued, they frequently pointed toward the wall to Eros’s
right. He leaned forward for a better view. Against the wall sat two
individuals. The boy was Liput, as was easily discerned by his slight build and
fluffy hair with colored tips. He held his side with a bloodied hand, his
ghost-white pallor a tell-tale sign that he would soon faint without treatment.
Eros tried to make out the second individual against the wall. His efforts were
in vain, since the crowd began moving towards the side where they stood,
blocking his view.

“What happened?” the girl asked as
she climbed down the wall ladder.

The Skurk, with his loud, booming
voice, spoke first. “Hunted by Graeliths. Foolish kids think they can find
protection in the city. The boy there was wandering around like he was lost in
a fairy tale.”

“Now, Lutra, don’t be too harsh,”
the other leader began. “Although they were caught by the Graeliths’ trap, you
have to respect their efforts to break free.”

Lutra grunted, “I still say we
should seek treatment for the boy tonight. Staying here doesn’t make sense. Healing
his wounds and sending them toward the camp is standard protocol. The longer
they stay here, the greater the risk that they’re discovered. You know that.”

Eros followed the girl down the
ladder and now recognized the second leader as a Bruner, indicated by the
frizzy poof of six-inch hair and forehead ridges. They were generally a
peaceful sort with great intelligence, though in Eros’s experience, the range
of these traits did vary considerably.

“A risk it may be,” the girl
interjected, “but the boy is badly injured and we may not find a medic this
late.” She went to the boy’s side and moved his hand allowing her to examine
his wounds. The boy flinched and anguish showed on his face, though to his
credit, he made not a sound. “Bring me bandages and oil,” she ordered another
in the group. “I can at least slow the bleeding.”

“We’ll find a medic at first
light,” the Bruner agreed. “Bring Kenrya medical supplies.”

Lutra grunted again. “Very well,”
he conceded. He stared at Kenrya a moment too long, then turned away, shaking
his head. Eros was uncertain as to whether the Skurk’s expression was one of
admiration or irritation. Either way, the argument seemed to be settled.

The group dispersed around the room
and quiet conversations began. The Bruner joined Kenrya. “How bad are the
wounds?” he asked.

“They run deep. The oil will stop
the bleeding for now, but we must find a medic who can better heal the wounds.”
She poured medical oil over the wounds without hesitation or sympathy at the
boy’s gasps. She grabbed his face. “Be quiet. If you are to challenge a
Graelith, you must suffer the consequences.” She wrapped his wounds tightly,
ignoring his obvious pain.

Eros watched the girl’s harsh
treatment of the Liput boy. Kenrya was the name she had denied sharing earlier.
She obviously carried authority with this group. Why would they live in the
underground? And why would have they have such a large number of weapons lining
the walls and shelves?

Eros turned then to look at the
second individual sitting against the wall and the wind rushed from his lungs. The
girl bore the mark of the Krystic on her forehead, a curvy, golden design which
naturally appeared on all females of the species at their coming of age. Fiery
red curls were piled loosely on her head and framed an absolutely stunning face.
Her characteristically white skin shone in the underground, as though
illuminated by an unnatural source of light. She turned her bright blue eyes
toward him and Eros braced his hand against the wall for support. He had
observed Krystics at a distance before, but his mother always led him away from
close contact with one. While his mother had warned him of their false charms
and tricks, she had clearly hid the truth of their beauty. Eros forced himself
to breathe deeply and blink his eyes, as his mother had taught him. As a
result, he broke their eye contact and turned his attention back to the Liput
boy.

Kenrya finished bandaging the boy’s
wounds and went to rinse her hands under a small pipe on the far wall that
trickled water. The Bruner turned to Eros, “I’m Arith. And you are …?”

“Eros from the forest of Kullac, in the most distant sector,” Eros replied and sat next to the others.

Arith motioned toward the others
and introduced them, “This is Prizene and Tip.” Arith observed Eros carefully. “You
seem to have encountered some difficulties of your own.” He jutted his chin
toward the scratches on Eros’s arm where the Graelith had nicked skin, as well
as the bruise forming on Eros’s chin where the Graelith had landed a solid
blow.

“I can manage,” Eros pulled his
sleeves down and brushed aside any concern with a flick of his hand. “What
happened?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the Liput.

“I was in a diner and spotted two
Graeliths tracking him outside,” Prizene replied. She carelessly brushed a
wispy strand of hair out of her face and swiveled to face Arith and Eros. “He
seemed unaware of them and I thought the respectable course of action was to
warn him he was being followed, so I started after him.”

As Eros stared at Prizene, he had
to remind himself to breathe. Already, the reaction had lessened. A little more
practice and he would be in control.

Prizene looked at Tip. “He stopped
to talk to a street vendor and I maneuvered around the Graeliths to reach him.”
Tip seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness. She paused for a moment
and then continued the story.

Several of the males in the group
gathered and were entranced with the Krystic’s telling of the story. As Eros
watched them inching closer, he wondered if maybe he should teach them how to
break the spell. The Plintes in the group, another of the outbound species,
were listening, but didn’t appear to be affected by Prizene. The Plintes were a
mighty race of warriors with high foreheads, upturned eyes, and breathing slits
at their neck that allowed them to breathe underwater. Perhaps they already
knew the trick. He turned back to Tip. How would a Liput react to a female
Krystic? They were somewhat naive, after all. Of course! While the Liput grow
physically at a rate similar to Humans, they don’t become interested in girls
until an older age. His mother mentioned that one fall after the great harvest.
Tip would probably only fall for the Krystic charm if Prizene intentionally
tried to sway him.

Still, Prizene’s compassion
surprised him. Krystics weren’t well known for such selfless generosity. They
kept to themselves in their large dwellings on the north side of Caldot and
rarely lifted a hand to help others. Eros waited for Prizene to pause before he
said, “But the Graeliths were after him.” He motioned toward Tip. “Why not just
run away?”

Prizene gazed into Eros’s eyes and
batted her own. Then, she simply shrugged and Eros heard audible sighs from the
group around them. Why would this Krystic risk her life for a Liput boy she
didn’t know?

“I’m not sure how the Graeliths
managed to follow us through the marketplace,” she said, pushing her hair out
of her face.

“Their tracking skills are
legendary,” Arith said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Though I am surprised
they chased you so blatantly. They must have known he was marked.”

“Or guessed,” Eros added. “Liputs
rarely travel to the city and generally only for the great harvest when the
seasons grow cold. A lone Liput boy venturing into the city in springtime? The
Graeliths were wise to assume he was marked.”

Prizene nodded. “He obviously doesn’t
belong in the city.” She turned her eyes toward Tip, then closed them and shook
her head. “I should have been more careful. I recognized he knew nothing of the
city, but I was careless enough to tell him of the Graeliths without first
advising him as to his actions. I should have known he would turn to see them. Being
followed by Graeliths is frightening.”

Arith patted her leg. “Don’t hold
yourself responsible. You cannot judge how another will react. You can only
hope to guide and advise.”

Prizene beamed at Arith, who seemed
to not be fazed by her beauty. “Lucky for us, Lutra and the others came to our
aid in the square.”

Arith scratched his chin and
adjusted the cloth tied around his head that held his mass of frizzy locks out
of his face. “That square provides easy access to the underground. I don’t
think the Graeliths had ever ventured to the square and likely didn’t know it
was there. Until today, we considered it a safe haven within the city. Fortunately,
Lutra and some of the others were following the Graeliths from the marketplace,
as we try to counteract their hunts, if possible.”

Eros snapped his head toward Arith.
“You are those that fight to protect the marked and other Miyran supporters
from the Graeliths? My mother always spoke highly of you and your efforts to
aid the innocent when warriors aren’t at hand.”