The Xenoworld Saga Box Set Page 8

  If there is anyone who can hear me...anyone at all...I’m trapped down here. I think they’re going to kill me. I’ve done nothing wrong, except for being born this way. Please, gods, someone save me...

  IN TIME, I CAME TO recognize that I was truly on my own. I would pray from time to time, if only to do something, but it was pointless, not even giving me a sense of peace.

  I was Elekai, and Elekai had nothing but themselves to depend on. I no longer had any expectations: of myself, of Annara, or of those holding me captive. I could only follow the road before me until it came to its end. If that was death...even a horrible death...I had to face it.

  It was strange how quickly I arrived at that thought, but when you are imprisoned by yourself, even for a few hours, strange thoughts can form. Those thoughts become reality because you have nothing else to place them against to recognize their madness.

  Madness, at least, would be a form of escape.

  AT SOME POINT, I MUST have fallen asleep again. This happened over and over, because hours passed. Days, even. At times, the pail would descend through the grate, and the old one would rise out, untouched. I had no way of measuring the time, but if I had to guess, they were lowering it once a day, in the evening. They would also lower a canteen of water, which I guzzled greedily. At first, I refused to eat the slop they fed me, but eventually I caved.

  It took only one taste of that nasty broth, with the flavor of salt, bones, old fat, and tasteless vegetables for me to spit it out and choose to go hungry. It was a vile concoction I wouldn’t have wished on my worst enemies.

  When I had to relieve myself, I used the wooden bucket across the way. I didn’t go often, because there wasn’t much to come out. Eventually, I didn’t even notice the smell unless I was trying to find the bucket. When I was restless, I paced, but I could only go for a little while before I lost my strength. The lighting was always the same. I couldn’t have told you if it was day or night, except that when the pail was lowered, I assumed it to be evening again. This had happened four times, which meant four days.

  Sometimes, I talked. Sometimes, I sang. I was surprised at the sound of my voice; it was strained and cracked from lack of use. I would feel my hair, which had become dry and wispy. Some of it was even falling out. There was a constant gnawing at my belly. I thought about baked bread fresh from the oven covered with honey and sugar, the way my mother used to make it. I thought of the pork tenderloin she used to make, when there was still money, with herbs and apricot jam, or grilled fish from the river, or wrapped chicken tacos with caramelized onion and peppers...

  When my thoughts turned to food, I had to stop myself, because it would make me go crazy. By the time I left this place – if I ever left this place – they’d have me exactly where they wanted. Every inch of me would look the part of the crazy, demonic Elekai. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that they wouldn’t leave me down here to rot. They’d want to make an example of me.

  Even if I burned, at least I’d see the sun and blue sky one last time.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE HATCH ABOVE SLAMMED OPEN, startling me out of my doze. I didn’t even move this time, not even seeing the point. Something hard bumped my head, and I could barely summon the strength to roll over.

  “Get up,” a gruff voice said.

  It was the first time anyone had spoken to me since I’d been thrown down here. I felt dazed, because that voice had slammed me just as much, if not more, than whatever it was that hit me.

  As I tried to force myself up, I hit my feeding pail. Earlier, I’d tried to break some of the fish bones to see if I could make something sharp, but they were so small and fragile that it probably wouldn’t have worked. In the back of my mind, there was still some small hope of salvation, but attacking one of the guards would seal my doom for certain.

  I looked up to see two Peacemakers staring down at me. I felt the rough wood of the ladder with both of my hands, hardly believing it was real.

  “Let’s go,” the man said. “We don’t have all day.”

  I scrambled up and began climbing the ladder, my legs weak. I went up slowly, pausing for breath every few rungs.

  “Faster,” one of the men said.

  I tried to move faster, but could only manage a small increase in speed. As soon as I was out, I rolled onto the grate. The air up here was less stale, and I breathed it deeply. One of the Peacemakers gagged. I knew I had to reek, but I couldn’t have cared less.

  There was a light kick at my ribs. “Get up.”

  I moved to stand, only managing to stumble back onto the grate. I felt another kick, harder.

  “Stand, demon, if you want to eat.”

  I found the strength to stand on shaky legs. Each Peacemaker grabbed one of my arms, dragging me toward the door.

  “She smells,” the one on my left said.

  “That’ll be fixed, soon,” the other said. “But a bath won’t wash the filth from her soul.”

  I remained silent, knowing protesting would do little good here. At this point, I was just glad to be out.

  The door was opened, and I looked to see Father Valance standing there. I was filled with a strange sort of relief. I knew I was supposed to loathe him, but seeing a face I recognized after four days alone was having an unwelcome effect. I knew he was the only one who could get me out of this, and the desire to get him on my side was overwhelming.

  “Father Valance...please. I didn’t do anything, please, let me go home. I promise not to do anything again...”

  I looked at him pleadingly, but those blue eyes stared at me without pity.

  “Release her,” he said.

  In tandem, both Peacemakers let me go, sending me crashing to the floor. A sharp pain shot up my legs when my kneecaps hit the stone, and I cried out. However, my desperation to know what was going on trumped the pain

  “Father Valance...please. Tell me my parents are okay...”

  “Silence,” he said, nearly hissing. He nodded to the Peacemakers. “Leave us be.”

  “Father Hunter,” one of the Peacemakers said, “she is dangerous. What if she...”

  “I can very well take care of myself, Darin,” Valance said. “Besides...if I die, then so does her little friend. Now, go...and do not test me again.”

  The Peacemakers hesitated only a moment before walking toward the corridor, each casting Valance a glance before disappearing around the corner.

  Valance waited a moment longer as I remained on the floor, too afraid to even stand.

  “I brought you some food.”

  He reached into his robe, withdrawing something wrapped in a thin cloth. He held it out, and I took it and ripped the cloth off to reveal a half loaf of bread, still warm from the oven. Over the next minute, I devoured it, my mouth so dry that I could hardly swallow. I started to cough and hiccough.

  “Here,” he said, handing me a canteen. “Eat slowly, or you’ll end up killing yourself.”

  I drank a bit from the canteen. The water was warm, but at that moment I didn’t care. It might as well have come from the finest fountain in the Dome District of Colonia. I made myself stop, even if it was hard, and handed Valance the canteen back.

  I went back to eating, and within seconds, I was licking my fingers. My mouth salivated for more. My stomach growled angrily, apparently feeling cheated of not being given a full meal.

  “Listen closely,” Valance said. “You are going to be bathed by some of the Sisters of Retha. Do not think of trying anything on them; Peacemakers are waiting right outside the door. There is no escape for you. Do everything as I say, or it will go badly.” He paused. “Do you understand?”

  I nodded, feeling tears come to my eyes. I had no idea why I was eating Father Valance’s every word as surely as I had eaten the bread, but I was far too desperate to feel pathetic about it. I wanted out of this, and the only way to do that was by obeying everything he said.

  “And my parents?”

  Valance ign
ored that question. “You can ask no more of me. Only do as you are told.”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Follow me.”

  I followed Valance down the corridor, turning into a shorter hallway to the right. Waiting at the end of the hall was a pair of Sisters, one tall and one short, dressed in white habits with the Spiral Staff of Retha sewn on the right breast. Both were elderly, and from their stern expressions, it seemed they expected me to have the tenacity of a feral dog. It was hard to make out their features because of the dimness.

  “Has she been searched?” one of them asked Valance, in a tremulous voice.

  “No,” Valance said.

  “Allow us, then. One cannot be too vigilant when handling darkness.”

  Father Valance gave a slight bow. “As you wish, Sisters. I’ll leave you to your work.”

  Valance departed, leaving me alone with the women.

  “Step closer, child,” the same Sister said.

  I stepped forward. The Sisters seemed to be kindlier than Valance, but I was under no illusion that anyone was on my side.

  Swiftly, each of the Sisters patted me down, wrinkling their noses.

  “She’s naught but skin and bones, Freya,” the taller of the two said.

  “A mere child,” Sister Freya said. “Although it is not unheard of for darkness to take hold of one so young. Elekai blood manifests itself around her age, if records are to be believed. It’s been so long since a demon has been found within our borders. Better to cull them young than allow darkness to spread.”

  I didn’t even bother defending myself. There was no point. There was nothing I could do save follow the Sisters’ instructions and try not to make trouble.

  The shorter one, called Freya, opened the wooden door. She turned her head, giving me a stern expression. For the first time I got a clear look at her face. She was perhaps sixty years of age, though her skin was not wrinkled – if anything, it was doughy and soft. It was a look that told of a lifetime spent indoors with little physical hardship, a complexion common among the clergy. She wore round glasses that must have been quite expensive.

  “This way,” the other Sister said. Unlike Sister Freya, she was tall, and younger, with very little fat on her lean frame. She reminded me of a scarecrow.

  I walked through the door, which the Sisters shut behind me. The cell was small and of stone, the exact size as Father Valance’s had been. It was empty, save for a circular wooden tub of water steaming at its center.

  “Don’t just stand there, girl,” Sister Freya said. “Strip off your clothes and step in.”

  “Can’t I have a bit of privacy?”

  “Privacy is a privilege,” the tall Sister said. “A privilege you lost as soon as you consorted with the Radaska.”

  I bit my tongue instead of allowing harsh words to come to my lips. They would do me no good here.

  So, I undressed, allowing my dirty, tattered clothes to fall to the floor. The air was cold and dank, and I felt my skin prickle; I could feel the steam of the water hit my skin. I walked forward, feeling the Sisters’ eyes on my back.

  I hurried to climb over the tub’s rim, finding the water pleasantly warm. I couldn’t help but let out a sigh as I sunk in.

  “This isn’t a bathhouse, child,” Freya said. She nodded toward a bar of soap I had failed to notice. “Wash yourself quickly and be out.”

  I washed myself down, going as slowly as I dared. Last of all, I went underwater to scrub my hair as clean as I could.

  When I emerged, Sister Freya was already standing at the edge of the tub, holding a towel. I’d hardly been in long enough to feel clean.

  I stepped out and began to towel off. After drying my hair, I saw that ugly brown clothes were laid out on a nearby chair, along with rough-spun smallclothes. Eyeing me critically, the taller Sister went to hand them to me once I was sufficiently dried. I hastily put the clothes on – smallclothes, pants, shirt, and sandals. It was itchy, and I resisted the urge to scratch myself.

  “Turn around, child,” Sister Freya said.

  “Why?”

  “Do not question her,” the taller Sister said, practically spitting.

  “Peace, Lara,” Sister Freya said. “Demon blood she may have, but she is merely curious.”

  “She is dangerous,” Sister Lara said.

  “That would never slip my mind.” Sister Freya put it primly. “Never mind the fact that the child would be a fool to try anything. Not with twenty Peacemakers to escort her to Red Cliff.”

  “Twenty Peacemakers?” I asked.

  “Quiet,” Sister Lara said.

  And then, I felt a comb run through my hair. Though my hair was wet, it was still matted and tangled. All I could think about was what Sister Freya said. If I was going to Red Cliff, it meant one of two things: I was either being transferred to the Red Bastion, where there was a more sizable dungeon, or I was going to stand trial. It was hard to imagine there being any sort of execution without a trial. Even heretics received those.

  In time, Sister Freya finished combing my hair. The fact that they were bathing me and making me look somewhat presentable made me believe my death was a matter still to be decided.

  Sister Freya then nodded to Sister Lara. “We can’t keep them waiting any longer.”

  Sister Lara opened the door while Freya marched me into the cold corridor, where a small squad of Peacemakers was waiting. One of them stepped forward.

  “Hold out your hands.”

  I complied, and he produced a small length of rope, expertly binding my hands together in a matter of seconds. He nodded, satisfied, before stepping back into line.

  As the Sisters led me, the Peacemakers fell in line beside us.

  “Can I see my parents? Please?”

  Neither Sister answered me. We made for the corner of the corridor, which I recognized to be Father Valance’s office. I felt my skin go cold at our approach.

  But instead of stopping, we continued on. I probably should have felt relieved, but the fact that we didn’t stop was only a temporary reprieve.

  “Mind the stairs,” Sister Freya said from behind.

  I hadn’t even bothered to look up. I started up the steps, the same I’d descended just days ago. By the time I reached the top, I got a strange sense of vertigo from the airy cathedral and the multicolored light pouring through its stained glass. It felt as if it had been ages since I’d seen so much space. The firelight of the candles and sconces lit the interior a fiery red. I closed my eyes against the excess of light, waiting for them to adjust.

  When I opened them, Hunter Valance, along with two other priests of different sects – a Magistrate and a Questor, if I wasn’t mistaken – were lined up in their brightest and most immaculate robes. Though my clothes were clean, they were dull and ragged in comparison, a fact made all the clearer by the ample light. Even the poorest person in the Subura wouldn’t have been caught dead in what I wore.

  I searched Valance’s face for a sign, but he betrayed nothing. It was the same for the other two priests, both of whom were bearded. If anything, they were somber. Both of the Sisters broke from the train of Peacemakers to join the priests.

  We started walking down the aisle toward the cathedral doors. The two lead Peacemakers threw them open, and the light outside, though red with evening, was still bright to my eyes. I squinted, unable to see at first. I could hear the murmur of a crowd and feel fresh air on my face, and after a moment, the blood-red sky and the buildings across the river came into focus.

  Then, there was the crowd. Hundreds of people filled Silver Square, all facing the cathedral. A dozen Peacemakers made a line right through the center of the Square, forming a clear path to Silver Bridge. As the Peacemakers marched me down the cathedral steps, the crowd’s noise grew until it was a great din.

  It took me a moment to realize it was about me.

  “Listen well, Elekai,” one of the Peacemakers said, cruelly. “Listen how they shout for your death.” He chuckled. �
�And they won’t quiet until your blood is dashed upon Traitors’ Rock.”

  WHAT THE PEACEMAKER said was true. Most of the faces in the crowd were contorted with rage. Some of the faces, though – precious few – looked sad as I passed. I didn’t see anyone I knew, thankfully, but if word had spread this much, then everyone I had ever known knew the truth. It pained me that my parents and Shara probably knew what I was.

  The Peacemakers guided me across the Square. At times, members of the crowd advanced, only checked by the guards. I was in too much shock to feel anything – going from the quiet of my prison to this was the most surreal transition imaginable.

  I could only wonder why they hated me so much. I would have never expected that hatred of the Elekai ran this deep. It was something I rarely thought about, but I supposed the hatred of the devout was fed every Sunday during services, which my mother and I rarely attended.

  The crowds thinned as we made our way across Silver Bridge, though people who were crossing paused to watch the procession with widened eyes.

  Three dragons and their Riders circled the skies above, their pink scales catching the last glimmers of the setting sun.

  The Dragonriders couldn’t be up there because of me. Who did they think I was?

  I glanced over the side of the bridge. How easy it would be just to jump off and end things for myself. My hands were tied, meaning given enough time, I would drown.

  “Don’t even think about it,” the Peacemaker behind me said.

  All too soon, we were on the other side of the bridge. I lifted my eyes from the paving stones, searching the gathering crowds for my parents, but either they weren’t there, or there were too many people to find them.

  Again, the Peacemakers formed a narrow lane through which we traveled over the Plaza of Sands. The people here were quieter, appearing shocked to see me, if anything at all. A lot pretended not to notice or care, but stole glances as I passed. I kept my eyes focused on the street ahead, trying to think of how I might defend myself when presented to the court.