Jamyria: The Entering (The Jamyria Series Book 1) (18 page)

“Maybe we could try it, and just see where it goes,” says Margo.

Hands in tight fists at his side, Cameron simply storms off to the edge of their little clearing to await a chance to fulfill his promise to Nick. To him, it’s no longer worth the argument with her.

“Alright.” Ian speaks only to Margo and is obviously enjoying himself, a rakish smile in place. “Attack me.”

Standing before him, Margo calculates ways to take him down. It’s the first time she’s noticed it: Ian, though only half a foot taller than miniature Margo, is quite menacing. Rather skinny himself, he’s taken the build of a runner: thin but every ounce of his being pure muscle. His wispy hair flutters in the wind in a rugged way.

The smirk returns. “Come on, Mark, I’m waiting.”

Her annoyance resurfaces. “Do you even remember my name?”

He watches the crinkle in her brow for a moment before answering. “Margo Grisby.”

“First and last. Impressive.” She crouches slightly lower. “I’m going to attack you now.”

“That is the point, my lady. On with it.”

She charges toward him, clearing the distance between them in an instant. Ian stands completely unmoved, waiting.

Reeling her arm back for the punch, Margo recalls what Cameron said about her powerful kick and shifts her weight at the last second, lowering her fist and kicking out her leg. It’s aiming straight between Ian’s eyes, there’s no doubt about it, but just before impact, he calmly pulls his head to the side, ducking easily out of the way.

Leg flying into open air, confusion spreads across Margo face.

As her body passes him, his arm stretches in front of him effortlessly, and before Margo can even react she feels the blow from the back of his hand. Her body arcs away from him without much balance, the leg she kicked has yet to reach the ground. The forest is a blur of green as he spins her around, and then a second blow meets the back of her neck.

The dirt ground approaches; she cringes. Pain lurches at her shoulder, a wrenching pull against her arm.

“Gotcha,” he says coolly.

She doesn’t hit the ground. All she can do is breathe heavily, and stare at the soil no more than three inches from the tip of her nose. The pain in her shoulder strengthens as Ian pulls her to her feet; she staggers to a standing position. A second arm grabs her by the waist.

“Alright, agreed,” Cameron says to Ian. “She needs a bit of help. But you could have gone easier on her second try.”

Ian releases her wrist, easing her straining ligaments, and stares down at her quizzically. “She’s weaker than I imagined.”

“I can hear you, you know?” Margo glares up at him from between strands of wavy hair.

“You know what you did wrong?” he asks. “You used the same move twice. Too predictable.”

Cameron settles back in the shade, too tired to butt in, or perhaps he’s beginning to agree with the Waterperson.

“Obviously, you have more lower strength than upper,” Ian continues. “So that will work to your advantage. Most of the Queen’s Crew use their upper bodies to do all of the work, so it’ll be a surprise to see someone pull these impressive kicks on them. Now,” he loosens his shoulders up and crouches, “Try to attack again.”

This time Margo holds her own against him for a total of four seconds. Before she can even draw back her fist, she’s pinned to the ground, fully wedged between Ian and the dirt.

“This isn’t working,” he says. He pushes himself to his knees and helps Margo up. “To be honest, you have no form whatsoever.”

“Isn’t that the point of this practice?” Margo mouths.

“Right. Well, then, we’d better take another step back and go over some basic techniques.”

There are more possible ways to kick than Margo had ever known, along with basic self-defense techniques. For example, if an attacker comes up from behind, she can thrust her elbow back at him popping him in the eye. Or if she’s in a tight bind, she can kick her leg straight up while twisting her body weight knocking him in the cheek. And when all else fails, hit him in the groin. Margo teases, asking if they need to practice that one; they both cringe at the idea.

Once she’s successfully gotten the hang of the basics, she moves on to practicing attacks again. Every time she comes at Ian, he wins the fight, if it can even be labeled as a fight. He pins her to the ground without any harm, but with enough force to allow her to feel the effects of a real fight. Cameron watches from the edge of the woods with eager eyes, forcing himself to stay out of the way.

Ian’s grip forces her against a tree in a throbbing crunch, the rough bark cutting into her skin, when a sudden thought fills her mind. “But what if —” Margo begins but shuts her mouth, too frightened to even know the answer.

“What?” they both ask in unison.

Ian loosens his grip, and Cameron emerges from the trees with a worrisome face.

Her insecurities return. These practices are most likely a useless attempt to ease her mind against the Queen, but her gut tells her she’s already fighting a lost battle. “When they attack… Won’t it be with guns?”

Cameron relaxes.

“There are no guns in Jamyria,” says Ian straightforwardly.

“The Queen is from a different time than us,” explains Cameron. “If they come armed, it’ll be with swords, not guns.”

“They
will
come armed.” Ian has a sure look on his face.

“They only might.” Cameron is obviously trying to sugarcoat their predicament, but the truth is what Margo needs in a time like this. What good will a shield do on the matter? “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Nothing to worry about?” she questions, suddenly infuriated. “What do you expect us to do if they
do
come armed? Even if it’s just with swords.”

“We fight,” Ian says boldly. The two of them turn to find a fierce look on his face. “We’ll fight one off until we retrieve his sword. It won’t be an easy feat, but it can be done. And then we’ll fight the others on equal ground.”

“Wait a minute!” Cameron shouts. “Now you’re a part of the ‘we?’ You’re just here to get us through the Water Forest. A business transaction, remember? That’s it.”

“And you expect me to just go prancing back into the water when I’m finished? I’m done serving the Queen. Besides, you two are starting to grow on me.” He grins. “And from the looks of it, Margo won’t be properly trained by sunset.”

“They’re like parasites, these Waterpeople,” Cameron complains. “Sure, stick around, eat our food!”

Ian steps forward, his face suddenly the same as it was when he vowed to Derek that he’d help Margo. “I will fight with the Marked One until I die or am freed from this place, whichever may come first.” Perhaps it’s the accent, but he has sureness in his tenor, an air of nobility. And then, he does something so unexpected Margo’s cheeks warm. Ian bows before her, his hair swinging in front of his lowered face like a curtain enveloping him. It is brief, and when he rises, he smiles.

Margo looks back at him, speechless. Never has anyone bowed to her. She isn’t sure she’d ever seen anyone bow, other than on television. The move leaves even Cameron without any other protests.

“No guns?” Margo reiterates after an awkward lull.

“None at all,” says Cameron. “It’s getting late now. Better start settling in, get some food.”

“One more go?” she asks them both.

“Ahh,” Cameron whines, heading over to where Faux rests.

Ian steps back in front of her. “You ready?”

Margo lifts her fists, analyzing his position. He stands loosely with his hands barely blocking his face, smirk still in place, feet in no distinct stance. Completely out of focus. Probably expecting this to be as easy as the other times.

Margo races forward, the smile on his face only irritating her more, fuel to the fire. He grabs her by the shoulders twisting her toward a tree to pin her against it. But he broke his first rule: he used the same maneuver twice. Instead of allowing him to force her shoulder against the bark again, she kicks her leg at the tree and uses it as leverage to pop her other leg up into the air and over him, somehow locking his head between her knees. It takes all the strength in her to twist her body while in midair and against his grip, but she’s able to bring him down.

His body crashes to the ground with an
oomph
. Her leg absorbs the fall, too.

But her job isn’t over yet. She scrambles around with him, gaining some control of his hands, the shock of her advance having not yet worn off. She grabs a fistful of his hair and shoves his face toward the dirt, freezing not more than an inch above ground.

“Gotcha,” she says.
Now who’s smirking?

Ian growls, beneath her weight.

Cameron runs up to them, pulling her into his arms while shouting praise.

“Wow,” says Ian, still lying on the ground.

Cameron squeezes her tighter, when Ian suddenly shoots upright looking into the forest. Faux, too, has sensed something’s presence. Margo’s head whips toward whatever had disturbed the trees. But there is nothing but silence. Still, Margo freezes awaiting danger. The beating of her heart quickens.

“Well, Margo,” Ian whispers, quietly jumping to his feet. “We’re going to celebrate tonight!”

He slithers into the woods, not making a sound as he disappears into the trees.

Chapter
Fifteen: Ian’s Insight

“I still don’t trust him,” Cameron says.

The forest darkens as the two hurry to gather wood before night can overtake them.

“You seemed to be getting along better with him.”

“He’s a Waterperson, Margo. They’re bred to protect, to fight. They serve only the Queen.”

“But he said that —”

“I know what he said!” Cameron barks. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “But that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth. It’s very possible that he’s working for the Queen, spying on us. He could lead us right into an ambush. He could make the bubble collapse while we’re under it — who knows! There’s a hundred ways for him to get rid of us.”

“I still don’t even know what a bubble is, but I trust him. I heard them talking down there, and they wanted to help —”

“Wait.” Cameron places his hand to Margo’s lips. “Another one saw you?”

“Yeah, but he was even nicer than Ian.”

He stares absently into the woods. “This is bad, Margo. Tell me everything that happened when you were in there.”

She doesn’t hesitate and tells him exactly what took place leading up to the moment that she and Ian broke through surface of the water when they met Cameron in the treetops. Cameron remains silent, nodding frequently, until she finishes.

“This is bad…” he finally repeats. “The other one could be in there warning the Queen right now that Ian has you.”

“No, he’s not,” says Margo firmly. She plants her feet and glares at him.

“We should get your bed ready,” says Cameron. “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping with him around.”

Margo makes a face. “You can’t be serious! You’re just not going to sleep while he’s here? He didn’t sound like he was going anywhere anytime soon, so I think you should just accept the fact that he’s not going to hurt us.”

“You don’t know that,” he mutters.

“What do you think he heard, anyway?” she asks looking out in the direction Ian headed. She bends to collect the branches she dropped.

“Who knows? Those freaks have good hearing. Could’ve been anything.”

“Well, where do
you
think he is?”

“Margo, I don’t know that boy at all, so how would I know where he went?”

A hard crease forms between Cameron’s eyes before he turns to head back toward their camp. He truly hates the boy….

“Don’t be so angry,” she whispers. “You’ll force away needed help.”

“If only you’d been here longer, you’d understand….”

“What have they done that’s so bad, then? Stop avoiding the truth and tell me!”

Cameron whirls around furiously. “Have you already forgotten what they did to you? Ian might have saved you, but what about that Water Spirit? What do you think her intentions of bringing you in there were? She either wanted you dead or to become one of them. Or maybe she saw your marks and was trying to get you turned into the Queen since the Water Forest leads straight to the castle.” Margo’s eyebrows stretch wide in shock. “From the looks of it, she wanted you dead. That’s the thing with them. It’s like…like they’re bitter because of what they are. They want to doom others to their fate, bring as many down with them as they can…. So don’t act like you don’t know what’s ‘so bad about them’ anymore!”

Once he finishes, Margo is too frightened to speak. She waits, eyes still wide, until his jaw unclenches and his breathing slows, letting the rise and fall of his chest resume its normal pattern.

“But not Ian,” she says calmly. “No, he isn’t like them.”

“Geez,” she hears from behind her, relief washing over her. “If you’re going to talk about me, at least have the dignity to do it behind my back.”

“Ian! You’re alright!” she shouts, leaping excitedly into his direction.

“‘Course I am.”

Cameron’s face remains unchanged, though his body once again tenses. “I was just filling Margo in on the purpose of the Waterpeople.”

Ian shrugs. “I could’ve done that. We’re transformed into these freaks and told to serve the Queen — and only the Queen — by protecting the Water Forest. Well, guarding it really. You see, the Water Forest is basically a moat around the castle. If anyone gets in, we’re to either turn them into one of us or let them die — whichever of the two punishments suits the crime. Your punishment should have been the latter. Lucky for you, we want out of this hellhole as much as you. Oh, and we’re not supposed to leave the water. Ever. Basically, I’m going against everything I’ve ever been told by just stepping out of the Water Forest, but more than that,” his eyes narrow, “you are the number one rule, and I’m breaking it.”

Margo stares back at him, still absorbing the fact that she had been so close to the Queen’s castle only hours ago.

“You think that’s going to win us over?” Cameron asks. “Because you’re supposedly breaking a rule?”

“If he wanted me dead, he would have let me drown.”

“Unless the Queen wants you alive,” Cameron states.

“She wouldn’t…would she?” It seems much simpler to just put a hit out for the New Mark. But Margo recalls something Janie had said: the Queen wanted to finish Nick off herself, that she prefers to take a life herself.

“You’ll find any excuse to turn her against me, huh?” says Ian. “Do you want to know the truth?”

Cameron snorts.

Margo is torn. What if the Queen does want her alive? And if Cameron’s right, she could be putting both of their lives in jeopardy.

“Of course, I want to get out of here,” says Ian, “but, call me ‘one of little faith,’ if you wish, but I don’t see how someone so small can conquer the Queen and her entire Crew.”

The comment strikes Margo, pulling her from her reverie. Did she hear him correctly? She’s defending him, and yet he repays her with an insult?

“Do you even know what you’re doing? Or how you’re supposed to do it?” Ian continues. “Just going to wing it with this one here?” he nods in Cameron’s direction. “Good luck with that.”

Anger pulses through Margo’s veins. She loathes him and, even more so, hates that his words are true.

“I think it’s time you went your own way,” Cameron says.

Ian shrugs. “Whatever. Enjoy getting around the Water Forest. It’s about a two day journey that way.” He turns back toward the forest with his arm outstretched in the direction to travel. He stops and turns back, red in the face. “By the way, I just caught a deer...by hand. Hope you enjoy it.” His shoulders slump over as he continues on.

“Yeah, whatever, water boy!” Cameron shouts after him.

As he walks away through the trees, Margo remembers his face on the way down from the Water Forest. What can torment him so? “Wait,” she calls.

“What are you doing?” Cameron whispers, catching her by the elbow. “We finally got rid of the third wheel.”

“We can’t just send him off like that. Not after one fight.”

“Sure we can.”

“Is that really what this is about: jealousy?” Margo can’t help but to laugh. “Ian, you can stay.”

He stops and looks back in surprise. “You don’t have to do that, you know? Most people don’t like me.”

“Well, can you at least try to keep the obnoxiousness to a minimum?”

“No guarantees.”

Margo smiles. “So there are real animals here, too? Not just made up ones like shikas?”

The boys can only laugh, and Margo is thrilled to supply them something to agree on.

They drop armfuls of firewood when they reach their camp. Draped over a fallen tree is a ten-point buck. Faux turns away from the tree she’s picking fruit off to greet them with her strange whimpering call.

The boys clean the animal while Margo is on fire-starting duty. It takes nearly twice as long for her to get a light as it did Cameron. More humor is found in that for some reason.

Once it comes to life, they finish preparing the meat. Cameron carefully skims his knife beneath the skin until the muscles are completely bare, and they place the meat on a flat stone in the center of the fire, serving as a sort of skillet. Ian finds some green shrub to go with the meat which he roasts on the open flames. The warm aroma twists the hollow ache in Margo’s stomach.

“It’s hot,” Cameron warns as he plops a piece of the shoulder onto her plate. The heat goes unnoticed, though. She devours it.

Margo forgot how much she loves venison. She last had it when Owen still lived at home. He used to bring home a buck or two during deer season.

“I know you’re not in the mood,” says Cameron, setting his empty plate aside, “But I think it’s best you practice using your power some more.”

Before Margo can speak, Ian cuts her off. “I suppose you’re going to teach her how to use it? Do you have any form of power in you?” He rises to his feet and circles the fire to where they’re seated, his bone of meat dangling at his side.

“Well, no, but —”

“Do you plan on guessing how it works, then?”

“Nick explained most of —”

“Margo, Waterpeople have power, so I would suggest learning from someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“Well, Nick asked Cameron to teach me,” she responds lamely. Although, Ian’s offer makes more sense.

“He’s right,” Cameron says so quietly Margo isn’t sure whether she actually heard it.

“She needs to learn fast, mate. And no offense, but it’ll come faster from someone who knows what it feels like — even if I only know how to move water. It’s better than nothing.”

“And this bubble you create ought to be interesting. She needs to see how intense this power can be,” Cameron adds, looking up.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Wait, so now you want him to help?” Margo asks in confusion.

“I know what I’m doing,” Ian says. “But I think it’d be best if we practiced after we’re through the Water Forest. I need to save up my energy for the bubble.”

Cameron nods. “Margo, you might as well get your rest, too. You’ve already been through enough today.”

Ian takes one of the mats and a blanket, while Margo very willingly offers to share Cameron’s. Having a stomach full of meat rather than just fruit is pleasing, and they drift away quickly. Cameron wraps his arm around Margo who looks up at him hoping to catch his eyes once more. But he was wrong about something else: he won’t stay awake to keep watch over Ian, for he is already asleep.

*

What is left for her to dream? She’d rather lay awake than have to face what is sure to come next. It’s been months since this series of dreams has haunted her, and yet on they play sequentially, carefully recalling every detail she longs to forget.

Just know that
—

That what? Kylie’s last words have hung in the air since. Her inexplicable calm, the change in her expression...what made her speak this broken sentence?

Margo sits up on her mat and silently slips out of the covers, unable to let it consume anymore this night. There’s barely a hint of fire remaining but enough light to make her way to a nearby tree which she props up against.

Cameron asked her to save her energy for tomorrow, but if he only knew the images she sees each time she shuts her eyes, those graphic displays ingrained in her lids, he would be sitting right next to her trying to keep her awake. How will she ever overcome this? With a sigh, she lifts her hand, facing it palm side up, and pictures every detail on a penny.

After several hours of practice pass, Margo exclaims, “I can’t do it!” in an agitated whisper and throws her lump of copper into the embers. “It’s just getting worse.”

What’s left of the fire pops and hisses a few sparks into the air at her disturbance, before dying back down into a pile of glowing fragments.

“You know,” Ian whispers back. Margo starts, unaware that either of the boys were awake. “They say all marks contain different powers. That when even the same mark the Queen bears is dispersed among her Crew, different — talents, I suppose you could call them — these talents emerge. Like a fingerprint, each mark is unique.” A soothing cadence moves his words. “But also, when the same mark is shared, it latches to the individual who bears it in its own way, ending with unique results.”

Margo stares into the glowing flecks of orange on his eyes as they reflect the dying embers. His familiarity with marks takes her aback. The way he explains them with such ease yet with complexity makes her, again, question whether he’s had experience with them himself.

“I’m betting your mark is different than Nick’s,” he continues. “He’s so used to teaching the people of that town how to create things that he’s stuck in his ways, not even considering the possibility that you might not learn in the same way.”

Margo is shaking her head choosing to ignore that she isn’t Nick’s first student. “He said I caught on quickly. So this must be my...talent.”

“You’re lacking, Margo. You’re not good at this. At all.”

The words sting, no doubt. But Margo isn’t sure whether to be offended at them or appreciative in his honesty. It’s just like their fighting practice. This boy, though abrasive, speaks without edits.