Flame (Fireborn) (31 page)

A white bowl is on top
of an altar a few feet from the base. Two pallid pipes are attached
to the stand, and my eyes travel the length of it to the bottom of
the crystal. Small nails attach the pipes to the monstrous stone. The
pipes aren't human made. Even from afar, I see movement within them.
As the crystal pumps, the white pipes reciprocate the vibrations,
until the two are moving as one. The dance makes me think of ocean
waves rocking back and forth, and I question how they don't crash.

There are no other
guards beside the woman, but more aren't necessary. An air of defeat
surrounds the two men, and I wonder if they can sense death standing
five feet away. The female speaks, but her words can't defeat the
roar of the crystal, and the sounds are lost before they ever reach
me.

The first one to go is
the smaller man. His stooped shoulders, and heavy steps show how sick
he is. The guard has no patience for it, and kicks him. He falls to
the floor like a broken doll, which makes her angrier. She hits him
in the stomach, and I don't have to hear the sounds to know the pain
he feels. She drags him back on his feet. He's swaying, rocking
because it's painful to stand.

The crystal is getting
louder, humming like a slumbering giant. She notices because she
glances back. It's shimmering and more colors are visible. Purple,
yellow, and oranges coil together, twisting into ropes inside.

His hand is around her
shoulders. She helps him walk to the crystal. When he nears it, he
begins to fight, trying to shrink back. It's as if he can sense what
the crystal wants, and he's using his last few breaths to resist. His
attempts look futile, and it isn't long before he's next to the giant
stone, violently shaking beside the alien guard.

With terrified
anticipation I watch as she slips the robe back from his body,
revealing a sliver of pale skin. The ruby cloth hangs on his thin
shoulders as a cape. She holds out his hand, pressing it into the
wall of the crystal. Instantly, the stone sparkles like it's turned
on. A rush of colors shoot up and down, and the man screams. It's a
terrifying sound. I flinch.

She takes a step back,
yet the man remains immobile, frozen with his feet to the ground, and
his hand intimately pressed to the crystal. A flash of metal catches
my eye, and she pulls back revealing a small katana sword. Before I
can anticipate what she's doing she raises the sword and plunges the
sharp tip through the man's hand and into the crystal.

Instantly blood oozes
out, as red as the cloth around my body. His screams are never
ending, and the crystal absorbs it all. Blood trickles down, but
before it can fall, it's sucked into the stone. The millions of Braxi
crystals are taking his life force, consuming the most precious parts
of him. A faint blush covers the base of the crystal, and as more
spurt forth, the pink color travels further up. Each vibration causes
the scarlet liquid to move higher, pumping like fish swimming
upstream.

Soon the crystal's
shrieking becomes louder than the man's. The guard moves behind the
man, doing something to him that I can't see. I press my face against
the door, peering closer.

She stays behind him
for a half minute longer, then steps back, ripping the crimson cloth
from his shoulders. His naked body is revealed, bony and abnormally
pale. The cloth falls to the floor, light as a feather, burning a
picture in my mind's eye.

Suddenly a sharp yell
pierces through the roar of the crystal, and my eyes swerve to the
second captive. He falls back, a crazed expression on his face. I
follow his line of sight and let out a shriek, hitting my face
against the door.

"Kenna!"

Nymphora's voice seems
far away. All I can see, hear, or feel is the crystal. It's a blaze
of even more colors now, pulsing violently against itself. Bile rises
in my throat as I finally comprehend what is happening.

He's being sucked into
the crystal.

His arms go first. When
they touch the crystal, his limbs freeze, motionless against the
vacuum absorbing him. After that his chest is next. His skin is
pulled, violently suctioned into the interior of the stone like dye
dispersing in water. For one terrifying second I see his skin peeled
from his body. His face turns away in agony, attempting to escape.
But as the Saguinox say, escape is an illusion. The crystal allows
him to take one frantic breath, teasing him as it lets go. The second
he pulls away the crystal returns full force, sucking him, stripping
skin off his face. I see bones and muscles before the guard kicks him
from behind, pushing him into the crystal forever.

Loud gurgling sounds
emanate from the stone, and the heat travels until even I can feel
the hot air as the crystal burns. The smell of smoldering skin wafts
through the crack in the door. I hold my breath even as I hear
Nymphora making choking sounds.

But the crystal isn't
done.

The guard watches his
body melt into the stone as a hundred blurry faces rush forward to
devour the meat.

"Kenna! Chloris is
whistling." Nymphora's pulling me, but I can't move.

My body is frozen.

I watch the pipes pulse
in frenzy, and the gurgling sounds get louder. Unexpectedly,
something bursts from the bowl. My eyes widen in shock.

"We have to go,
Kenna!"

Blood spews forth like
a fountain. Within seconds crimson liquid fills the bowl, brilliant
against the stark white.

"
Now!
"

All I can think about
as Nymphora pulls me away is my first thought about this place had
been right.

The color red means
death.

We're running, moving
as fast as we can. Nymphora pushes the door aside, and Chloris's
panicked face greets us.

"Get out!"
she hisses. But we're already moving. Nymphora slides through, and I
go next, trying to shove the hard door back in place.

"…to line up
when you are finished," the guard is speaking, his voice low and
deep. My heart is beating with panic because the door is stuck. I'm
pushing with all my might, but it isn't moving.

"Kenna!"
Nymphora's voice is strained. "Turn around. Bow your head!"

I face the guards,
desperately trying to catch her eyes, but she's a deceptive picture
of demureness, her gaze trained on her toes. Someone's looking at me,
and I have no choice but to drop my head, hands clasped loosely in
front of me. We've moved into a crowd of bodies, but luckily no one
notices our reappearance. Everyone is too focused on the guards.

The door isn't closed,
and though the crack is small, the shadows from the opening would be
noticeable next to the white walls. I swallow nervously, trying to
hide what I can with my body.

There are three guards.
The one in the middle is speaking. He has reddish hair with a strong
chin. His eyes don't glow as much as the other two, but the air of
authority around him is potent. All three hold clean red dresses in
their hands. The one speaking lifts a dress up, offering it to a
taker. He's scanning the room, waiting, but no one moves. The women
look petrified, and remain frozen.

Taking deep breaths to
calm my racing heart, I try to look less winded. When I close my eyes
images of what I've just seen bombard my mind, flickering on and off
like a switch. So I blink, opening my eyes rapidly, drinking in the
sight before me to block the pictures. It's no use though. The scream
haunts my mind, and I hear it as a broken song. Resisting the urge to
cover my ears, I clutch the towel to my chest, feeling the rapid
throbbing of my heart.
Please don't notice us.

"You." The
voice is loud in the silent room. He points to us. I freeze. "In
the back. With the green scales. Come here."

Chloris lets out a
squeal of terror she can't disguise, and my heart goes from beating
like a drum to almost stopping. Everyone's turned to look, and I'm
shaking, praying they don't notice the unclosed door behind me.

Chloris' steps are
tentative, painfully so. Her dread is so palpable the girls move to
the side, creating a wide pathway for her to walk by. Her tail
flickers nervously behind her, and we all watch with bated breaths as
she stands in front of the guard who called for her. I notice he's
the same one who watched her earlier, whose gaze was too intense.

He hands her a dress
from his arms. "Go into the stalls and change," he orders.
A couple sneers trickle from the two Saguinox behind him, and she
shrinks back. He raises an eyebrow, daring her to resist. Silently,
she takes the dress, and clutches it to her chest as if it can cover
her from their gaze. Her quick steps take her into a stall, and there
are fluttering sounds as the towel drops.

He points to another, a
strawberry blonde with faint freckles covering her skin. "You.
You're next." The girl cowers, bowing her head pitifully. "Come
now." The guard's voice is soft, almost patient. He talks to her
like she's a wounded animal. Looking at her wide blue eyes, she is.
"You won't be harmed."

Yeah right.

Nymphora can barely
contain her snort, and her nostrils flare out. We watch carefully,
suspicion still rampant. The girl lifts her hands for the dress. Her
towel isn't tight, and when her fingers leave her chest, the red
cloth nearly drops. Swiftly, the Saguinox guard catches it, moving
closer to hide her body with his own muscular one. He says something
to her, bending his head until his forehead's almost touching hers.
She's looking up at him as if she can't make up her mind. I can't
either. What sort of trick is this? I expect him to pull the cloth
from her thin body at any moment, but he moves back instead. He
gestures, and the girl goes into a stall, quiet as a mouse.

No one is sure what to
make of what we just saw. The tension lessens since we know we won't
be harmed, and each girl takes the offering without a sound. The
guards point at women, commanding them over like they're ordering
dinner. I'm repulsed, but also relieved. The commotion is enough to
cover what I want to do, and turning back, I attempt to push the door
back in.

"Nymphora," I
whisper loudly for her attention. "The door's stuck. Hurry!"
She gives me a startled look, swishing her tail.

"You've got to be
kidding!"

I grunt, pushing. "Not.
Kidding. Help. Me!"

She makes an aggravated
sound, and together we pull and push, heaving with our efforts. The
women are slowly disappearing into stalls, and I know it's only a
matter of time before we're noticed.

"It's broken,"
I finally tell Nymphora, halting her movements.

"No, it's not. We
just used it!"

"Stop." I
grab her arm anxiously. "Look, we're wasting time. We just have
to make sure they don't notice."

"And how are we
going to do that?" she asks angrily.

I take a deep breath
because I don't like what I'm about to say. "By creating a
distraction."

Her eyes open wide like
I'm out of my mind. "That's going to get us killed faster than
you can say the word!"

I take another deep
breath, hating my next thought. "Not if it's a distraction they
like."

"What does
that
mean?"

I nod to the two guards
who are too busy gawking to notice our stares. "Look at how they
look at us. The dresses make us beautiful- desirable."

She raises an eyebrow
then gestures to the red towel clashing horribly with her blue skin.

"It does," I
insist, remembering Rhys's sharp intake of breath when the dress was
put on me.

"Personally, I
think it makes them want to eat us," she interjects.

I shake my head,
ignoring her. "We can, oh, I don't know," I murmur,
thinking out loud, "maybe
flirt
with them?"

Her mouth drops open
for a solid five seconds. After that moment of astonishment passes,
she laughs.

I ignore her outburst,
and struggle on. "You, me and Chloris," I say, valiantly
trying to speak over her snorts.

Nymphora looks at
Chloris, who is incredibly timid leaving the shower stall. She plucks
at the dress, lifting it like she wants to hide inside. Nymphora
looks back at me, and laughs harder. "Forget it.
That's
not going to happen."

"Fine," I
snap, irritated. "
I'll
do it."

She's looking at me,
amused, which only annoys me more. I straighten, determined to prove
her wrong like our lives depend on it, which they do.

Everything I've ever
seen Bree and other popular girls at our school do flitters through
my mind. Images of girls lowering their lashes in playful shyness,
and lightly touching in flirtatious gestures tumble in my mind,
rolling into each other like sand. They always made it look smooth,
easy even. I attempt to move with more grace, swaying my hips
slightly like I had seen women do in movies.

I glance up, but no one
other than Nymphora watches me. She's giving me an I-told-you-so
look, and I clench my teeth.
I need to be noticed
now
,
more than ever.
Boldly, I walk straight to the red haired guard,
whom I'm almost positive is the one in command.

"Excuse me."
I attempt to make my voice thick and husky. I point to a scarlet
dress. "May I have one," I gulp, "H-honey?"

He's looking at me in
utter shock, and for a moment I feel like his mouth is going to stay
open from pure astonishment. His cheeks flush, and he bites his lower
lip. Something in his eyes glint, and he blinks, hiding it before I
can understand it.

"Yes," he
says, swallowing hard. He looks a little embarrassed. He's taken off
guard, and it's making him speechless. For some reason that knowledge
makes me more confident.

I edge closer. Ancient
womanly instinct kicks in, and I lock my eyes with his. I have no
idea what I'm doing, and the whole time I'm acting this out, another
part of me is cringing, wanting to hide under a rock. But I don't
back down. I keep my gaze level with his.