Rise

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The author makes no claims to, but instead acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

Copyright © 2016 by Jennifer Anne Davis

RISE by Jennifer Anne Davis

All rights reserved. Published in the United States of America by Month9Books, LLC.

No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN: 978-1-945107-09-2

Published by Month9Books, Raleigh, NC 27609

Cover designed by
www.derangeddoctordesigns.com

For Jessica

In a hut on the outskirts of a small village, the old woman tied the girl’s wrists and ankles to the table. Dawn’s first light shone on the horizon, and the moons still hung in the sky to the west—the best time to perform powerful magic. At the ripe age of sixteen, the naive girl had no idea what was about to happen.

“Why are you willing to help me?” she asked.

The old woman’s lips curled into a smile. “My kind is fading away. By giving you my magic, I am creating something far more powerful than me to save all the
Heks
.”

“Isn’t that what Skog Heks is trying to do in the mines?”

“If she finds the power source, there’s no guarantee new
Heks
will be born. Now that the balance of power is off, I know what to do. By using you, I can guarantee
Heks
don’t become extinct.”

The old woman clasped her hands together. When she pulled them apart, a blue light appeared. The small ball of magic glowed, waiting to be molded and used. “Our land is divided into twelve kingdoms,” she murmured. “I will create twelve warriors who will not only save Nelebek, but all our land.” She drew her hands farther apart, and the blue orb grew larger. “They shall be bound to my magic and will have no choice but to do my will.”

“Twelve warriors? Bound to your magic? What are you talking about? You didn’t tell me any of this!” The girl’s pretty brown eyes widened. “You said you would help undo what Skog Heks did! That I would be reunited with the man I love.”

“If I told you the truth, you never would have agreed.”

“Why me?” The girl struggled against her bindings to no avail.

“I’m sorry, child, but it has to be you. The king is protected under the treaty. However, you are simply a mere human, and the terms of the treaty don’t apply to you the same way they do to those who govern. You are the only one who can undo it all. You are his weakness.” She pointed to the twelve weapons lying on the ground. A piece of the blue orb broke off, splitting into a dozen smaller balls, each one plunging into one of the weapons and filling it with a bit of magic.

“The next eleven male births will start this.” Another chunk of the orb broke off and formed eleven smaller pieces that darted out of the room and disappeared. “Now, it’s your turn.” Her hands moved over the girl’s chest, and the blue light hovered there.

“Please don’t hurt me!” the girl begged, thrashing against her bindings.

“Yours will be the first one, the strongest one, and will save all the
Heks
.” She said the next part of the spell in a language rarely spoken—words from the old days—sealing the kingdom of Nelebek’s fate.

The light flashed and then plummeted into the girl’s chest. She screamed; flailing her body as the magic filled her. A moment later, the blue light faded away. The girl stilled and passed out.

“It’s done.” The old woman leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Once the twelve have risen, a new era will dawn. One in which
Heks
and humans are one, and
Heks
will finally have a choice.”

I staggered into my apartment. The bed, tucked in the corner of the room, begged me to lie down, if only for a moment. But my sore feet, raw hands, and aching back—the result of washing clothes for twelve hours straight—would have to wait for a reprieve because hunger overruled the need for sleep. Opening the kitchen cupboard blackened with dirt and grime, I found only a few crumbs scattered on the shelves. How were we going to survive? Stomping from above shook the ceiling, causing dust to rain down. A baby cried and a couple argued on the other side of the wall.

“Kaia,” my father said as he entered the room. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Why are you home so early?” I asked, kissing his cheek. His face was paler than usual, his hair disheveled, and his eyes had dark circles under them.

Instead of answering, he swung his arms, loosening them up. “Let’s get to it.”

Hopefully, he hadn’t lost his job from being too sick to work. If he did, we would not only be out of food, but we’d be out of this apartment as well. It might not be much, but it was all we had. I’d grown up in these two rooms, and, most likely, would be where I lived the rest of my life.

“Sure,” I said, too tired to train. “What do you want to work on first?”

“Hand to hand combat,” he said. Besides the kitchen cupboards and my straw mattress covered with a few dingy blankets, the only other furniture in the room was a wooden table, two chairs, and a box for my clothes.

As I stood across from Papa in the middle of the room, my stomach growled. His hand barreled down toward me. Raising my left arm, I blocked the strike and punched his gut. When he hunched forward, I latched onto his shoulders, pulling him down and slamming my knee into his head. He toppled to the ground.

After a minute, my father raised his eyebrows. “Aren’t you going to finish me off?” he asked, leaping to his feet. “You had me. Why’d you stop?”

“When my attacker is on the ground, there’s no reason to render him unconscious or murder him. Fleeing is easy at that point.”

He shook his head. “Honey, when the time comes, you won’t have the opportunity to consider whether a person should be killed or not. We train so you can act without thinking.”

“I’d rather train so that when the time comes, if it ever does, I can defend myself and make the right choice. If there’s another way to escape, why should I murder the person?” It was difficult to argue with my father since he always insisted he was right. As much as I loved him, I didn’t necessarily agree with him.

“Your mother would be proud of the woman you’ve become,” he said, changing the subject.

“Why don’t you ever talk about her?” I asked. “Do we look alike? How’d she spend her time?” If only he would tell me something, anything, so I could feel a connection to her.

“Not right now,” Papa said, staring at his feet. “You’re not done with your lesson.”

Of course. Training always came first—it was the most important aspect of my life. Since my mother had died delivering me, my father felt it was his duty to make sure I could take care of myself. Inconsequential things such as knowing anything about my own mother would have to wait. Survival was the one, and only, goal in this desolate kingdom.

Even though my arms shook from hunger, I smiled. “What do you want to work on now?”

“Let’s practice what to do if someone comes up behind you.”

Turning my back to my father, I patiently waited for him to attack. When he didn’t, I glanced behind me. Papa bent over clutching his chest. Running to where he kept his medicine, I grabbed the bottle off the moldy shelf and uncorked it. It was empty, and my heart sank. There should be at least another week’s worth. Papa had to be taking more than he should, which could only mean one thing: he wasn’t getting any better.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wheezing. “I didn’t want to worry you.” He coughed, and little droplets of blood spattered on the floor.

Tears filled my eyes, and I hastily blinked them away. “I’ll go to the apothecary’s and get more medicine.” I wrapped my arm around his torso and helped him hobble to the wooden chair at the table.