Mercy Rising: The Prophecy

by DC Little

  Since his fever broke three days ago, he had been weaving his story together, piece by piece—a story that held truth and yet did not give away his identity. The problem was that the more time he spent with the beauty next to him, the more he wanted her to know him...the real him.

  “When are you going to tell her?” For a moment, Orion thought the voice had come from himself, but his heart fell into his stomach when he realized the man who had spoken his mind sat in the furs on the other side of the fire.

  “Excuse me?” Orion asked, gulping to calm his racing heart.

  “You heard what I asked.” Tucker moved to sit cross-legged on his furs.

  Two days ago, they had decided it would be best for Orion to stay with his guardian, Mercy, and her older brother in their dwelling, as they called their houses here. Well, calling the bark shelters a house would be a stretch in his option, but they were warm and dry.

  Orion turned back to Mercy, her hair fanned out behind her, one arm flung over her head, the other one tucked under her cheek.

  “Don’t worry, she sleeps like a hibernating bear when she’s home. Nothing will wake her...unless she feels ill intentions, and then it doesn’t take a sound.”

  “You two are peculiar.” Orion scooted back to his furs and leaned on an elbow. It wasn’t easy to sit up with his leg stuck straight out in front of him.

  Tucker shrugged, his eyes, much like his sister’s, leveled on him. One other person had those spring eyes...a person he had dreamed of getting revenge on for most of his life. It complicated matters that he actually enjoyed the peculiar siblings.

  Tucker’s eyes on him unnerved Orion, as if the brother saw Orion’s future playing out across his face. The odd feeling left him exposed and nervous. “Tell her what?” Orion finally said.

  “The truth.”

  “About?” Orion parlayed, doing his best to plan an answer that would both appease and protect.

  “Everything.”

  Orion sighed. “Geez, you really are cryptic.”

  “So they say.” Tucker re-situated his furs. “You will tell her the truth, and when you do, it will give you a taste of freedom. Life will forever change….”

  Orion stared at the cryptic man until he realized Tucker had fallen asleep. In the future, it might be best to avoid midnight conversations with the guy. Yet, Tucker’s words created a disturbance inside of him, formulating something just out of his reach, something that left his feet twitching with the need to move and excitement to curl around his heart.

  When he next awoke, blue sky greeted him from the smoke hole in the top of the dwelling. He closed his eyes again and stretched, sucking in the smell of wood burning and something cooking over the fire.

  “It’s about time you woke up.” Mercy’s voice enticed him to open his eyes, finding her squatted near the fire, stirring something in a banged up pot. “If I’d known you were this lazy when I found you, I might have left you for the wolves.”

  “That’s a bit harsh,” Tucker reprimanded.

  The guy didn’t look at Orion, but focused on the knife he sharpened against a smooth rock. The sound created a whooshing background noise that had become familiar to him.

  “I’m healing,” Orion croaked, but his lips quirked in a wry grin.

  “Well, it’s time we get your energy back. Laurie gave me the all clear yesterday.” Mercy scooped something that looked a little like oatmeal into a wooden bowl and handed it to him.

  “Thank you,” he said as he took the bowl, digging the wooden spoon around to find dried berries amidst the small, cooked grains. “Does that mean I get to go outside?”

  Mercy glanced at Tucker who met her eyes, like some sort of telepathic exchange. These two really were weird.

  “Once the others begin their training session, you and I will take a walk around the back of camp.” Mercy sat with her own bowl. “You going to eat, Bubba?”

  “Oh, you’re not going to serve me, too?”

  Mercy picked up his empty bowl and threw it at him. “Better be careful what you ask for.”

  Watching the siblings, Orion felt a hollow prick inside him as memories of Lily and their good-natured squabbles surfaced. He needed to get back to her.

  “You’re missing her again,” Mercy said, her eyes now imploring his.

  He watched her, wondering how she always seemed to know what he was thinking. A nervous tickle began within him. Did she know what he planned to do to her father? He turned away from her sweet, green gaze. How could he hurt the girl for his own vengeance?

  “She’ll be okay,” Tucker said, sheathing his knife then piling his bowl full of the porridge mixture.

  Mercy stared at her brother like he had grown horns, but he remained oblivious.

  Orion didn’t know why, but the words comforted him. Lily was strong. She would be okay...if he got back in time.

  “I’m sure you’re right.” Orion spooned a bite of the mixture into his mouth, surprised at how sweet it was. The food they served him here left him in awe. They ate better than the Old Man himself, a realization that made him choke on the bite.

  “That bad?” Mercy asked.

  Orion wasn’t listening. All he could think about was why the Old Man had sent him to gather intel...Meyers didn’t want to infiltrate and kill the defectors. He wanted to force them to work for him, to give him the life of sustenance they had.

  “Well, it’s not Mom’s, but it isn’t bad enough to gag on.” Tucker watched him.

  “No, it’s good. I...I just swallowed wrong.”

  “Hmm.” Mercy eyed him, unbelieving. “Well, finish it up, and you can help me do dishes today.”

  “That means I don’t have to,” Tucker whooped.

  “It’s your day to train the littles, remember?”

  “I do.” Tucker scooped the last bite into his mouth, stood, and handed her the bowl. “I don’t mind. They listen better than the adults.”

  “That I agree with.” Mercy stacked the dishes and pulled on the leather socks that she called moccasins. “Come on, lazy boy.”

  Orion looked down at his leg, trying to figure out how she expected him to walk with her.

  “Oh, I forgot.” Tucker went to the edge of the dwelling and picked up a long, smooth stick. “Here. I asked Colton if we could borrow this. He broke his leg a couple years back and kept this because he said it saved his life.”

  The stick, almost long enough to fit under his arm, had a flat top and a handle sticking out about halfway down. He nodded his head, then situated himself so that he was on his hands and one knee. The brother and sister didn’t offer to help but watched with supportive grins. They both cheered as he pushed himself to a half stand, one hand and his good toe on the ground. Then, using the stick, he pulled himself into a full stand, hopping on his good leg until he balanced himself.

  “Well, maybe you aren’t as lazy as I thought.” Mercy grinned. “Come on. We have work to do.”

  The cold came first, blasting him as Mercy held the hide door back from the entrance. Next, the sun blinded him. The bright beams reflected off the snow, blinding him. Orion shielded his eyes while leaning on the crutch, except it sank deep into the snow. His right leg couldn’t support his weight and, with the stick sinking, it threw him off balance. Not wanting to fall on his injured leg, he gripped the handle and flipped his body upside down in a spin until he landed back on his left leg, holding onto the top of the crutch to balance himself.

  Mercy’s mouth dropped open. “What in the world was that?”

  “The crutch sunk too deep in the snow.” He adjusted his foot and held onto the crutch to make himself steadier.

  “I meant, what you just did.” She narrowed her eyes on him then glanced around at the people watching and whispering. “Never mind. Just stay...still until I get back.”

  She disappeared back into the warm shelter, sending a shiver down Orion’s spine. Why had he been so excited to come out here? It didn’t help that once his eyes semi-adjusted to the br
ightness, he wished he could go back to not seeing.

  People openly gaped at him, pointing, whispering, and some scowling.

  “Hey,” Orion said as casually as he could, lifting a hand in greeting and doing his best to smile under their scrutiny. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  You would think he had been a monster who spoke, as quickly as they rushed their children by him, casting back accusing glances as if he might pounce on them as they scurried away.

  Mercy popped back out, her brows furrowing as she shot the others threatening looks.

  “Do I have that bad of bed head?” Orion ran his free hand along his short, bristly hair before traveling down to scratch at his almost week’s growth of beard. “Ahh, it must be this scruff that scared them away. Have a straight blade handy?”

  Mercy rolled her eyes at him while she squatted down to attach a strange loop device to the bottom of his crutch. The attachment was an oval shape with leather webbing crisscrossing the outer rim.

  She glanced up at him. “Snowshoe, so it won’t sink in.”

  “Ahh,” he said, remembering the tree branches she had worn on her feet while saving his life.

  Tucker ducked out from the shelter. “I’ve got a straight edge.” He ran a hand down his one day growth. “I’ve got training with the littles, but we’ll meet up later so we can both be comfortable again.”

  “Thanks.” Orion wished he would just let him borrow the blade, but rules were rules, and they didn’t allow him to have weapons. He had never met a group of people so happy to follow rules in his life.

  Mercy’s snowshoe adaptation worked awkwardly, but it worked, keeping his crutch from sinking too deep to be any good. The healers had made him a splint that didn’t allow him to move his ankle or his knee, so sweeping his leg out and around into the drifts of snow outside the hardened paths made the going slow and messy.

  Mercy slowed her pace, leading them toward the far end of Zion and glaring at anyone who stared too long in their direction. Orion did his best to smile and nod at the onlookers. As much as his mind warred with seeing them as the enemy, he knew staying on friendly terms was in everyone’s best interest. He couldn’t exactly fend for himself at this point.

  “Why is this last dwelling so far from the rest?” Orion asked as they traveled past the last conical structure.

  “That’s my parents’,” Mercy whispered, taking him by the arm and urging him to quicken his pace.

  The sparks her hand left made his heart race for more than one reason. The Old Man had trained him well in the art of playing the game, but this girl left him unbalanced and struggling to remember why he was here. She slipped her hand off after they were clear of the dwelling and deeper into the ravine.

  Zion really was incredible. Steep, rocky cliffs shielded them on both sides. Both ends looked blocked off as well, and he didn’t know which one held the entrance, though he assumed it was the other end. At least one sentry was on guard at all times, standing stoic on the high cliffs, gazing off in the distance or down into their home.

  “Why do they live so far away from the others?” Orion finally asked, his surveying landing right back on the beauty next to him.

  “Long story,” Mercy said with a sigh. She slowed her pace as they came to a small pond the little creek that ran through the ravine emptied into. “I guess we have time, though I’m not the Story Teller.”

  She patted a boulder next to her. Orion lumbered over, grateful for the break. The rock must be a favorite resting spot, for the snow had been wiped off, the gray muted and dry under the sun. He laid his leg out in front of him, still not believing that a dumb tree broke it.

  “This pond is multipurpose.” Mercy eyed him. “If you want to keep your life, don’t go beyond that thicket there.”

  Orion inspected the thicket and arched an eyebrow.

  “It’s the bathing area...for females only. The males go that way.” She nodded her head toward the other end, across the creek where another thick brush wall blocked off the area.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Orion said, doing his best to hold back the quick retort that wanted to fly out. Somehow he didn’t think Mercy would appreciate the humor.

  Mercy whipped her head toward him, scrutinizing what he hoped was his innocent smile. “This,” she continued, “is the dishwashing area.” She dropped their dishes in a shallow hole before using a large wooden bucket at the edge of the pool to scoop water. She dumped two bucketfuls into the hollow and scooped another to leave in the bucket. Water dribbled from the seams.

  He watched as she squatted next to the trench of water and, using sand, scrubbed the dishes clean. Then she poured the clean water over the dishes before setting them next to him on the boulder.

  She caught his gaze and sat back on her haunches. “What? Don’t you wash dishes in the city?”

  “We’re lucky if we have dishes, and the ones that do are lucky if they wipe them clean with their dirty sleeves.”

  “Ew.” Mercy scrunched up her face.

  The longer he stayed here, the more in awe of these people he became, especially the red head conundrum in front of him. He followed her gaze, and immediately wished he hadn’t, for his eyes landed on the overwhelming bulk of her father. He stood near his dwelling, well out of earshot, but his gaze even at the long distance held enough warning. He didn’t need to hear his voice.

  His body stiffened and the need to act filled him, reminding him why he was here, why he had ventured out into the forestland to begin with, and why he had grown up fatherless with a cruel leader as a replacement.

  It was all Chantry’s fault.

  CHAPTER NINE

  >>>—MERCY—<<<

  Mercy pushed the twilight eyes out of her mind while ducking the blow coming at her head. Her foot kicked out, catching her attacker’s knee. He fell into a lunge, rolled, and came back up to attack her from the right side.

  “Nice move, Flint!” Mercy blocked the punch coming at her chest, spinning to block another going toward her side.

  “Not too bad for a Little, huh?” He blocked her jab late, and her fist glanced off his ribs. “Ugh!”

  “Don’t get cocky on me,” she teased. “Keep your focus.” She blocked his next set of punches, then kicked his feet out from under him as the call sounded for the sparring session to end.

  Flint caught his breath as she stood over him, offering him a hand up. “Well, thanks for showing me I still have more to learn.” He grinned, taking her hand and launching to his feet. Then, cocking his head, “Even so, not bad for a Little.”

  Mercy pulled him into a hug and reached up to rough his long hair. “I wouldn’t call you little. You taller than your dad, yet?”

  She glanced past him, raising a hand to Tyler who liked to oversee his son’s training. He nodded toward her before turning back to the conversation the three leaders were having.

  “Not quite,” Flint mumbled, then leaned in close to whisper. “Does it ever get easier having your father a leader?”

  Mercy tried unsuccessfully to swallow her laugh at the fifteen-year-old boy’s predicament. “No. No, it does not.” She nudged into him. “There are worse things.”

  Flint smiled mischievously at her. “Like Choosing Days?”

  She glared at the kid she saw as a younger brother. “Well, be thankful you don’t have to go through that.”

  He stopped in his tracks, his brows furrowing. “Of course I do. I have to go through yours, my sister’s, Noel’s, and K-Kami’s. Everyone focuses on the girls, but the guys go through it too...always wondering if they are going to get picked or live alone for the rest of their lives.”

  Mercy watched him, a dawning realization flooding her. She hadn’t thought about what the guys went through. Then she saw the seriousness in his eyes, so much like Tyler’s, and chuckled. “Why are you worried? You still have six years before you can be chosen, anyway.”

  His lips quirked to one side. “Think you could wait for six years?”

&
nbsp; “Not you, too!” Mercy rolled her eyes and lightly punched him in his gut. The kid she saw as a little brother had stepped over the line all males did at some point, but she knew him well enough to let his innocent question go.

  “I’m just saying…” Flint started.

  The boy’s voice faded into the background as her eyes landed on piercing blue ones sitting on a boulder watching her. What was she going to do with him? He had been living with her and Tucker now for over two weeks, and the longer he was there, the more she didn’t want him to leave...yet, he was trouble.

  Her body launched forward from a shove behind her. She swung a foot out to catch herself and spun to face her attacker.

  Flint stood there, arms crossed. “And you talk to me about focus. So, the stranger is who you are going to choose? Really? There are so many here without mates, and you are going to choose an outsider?”

  Mercy dropped her hands. She hadn’t looked at it that way. Was she letting down Zion if she didn’t choose someone from within? Her stomach twisted into knots as she glanced past Flint to the guys watching them from the corner of their eyes.

  Ethan watched her openly, raising a hand when he saw her eyes on him. They were too far to hear their words, but somehow she felt he knew Choosing Day was on their minds.

  “I have six months to figure it out,” she told Flint and started walking toward the archery range. “It doesn’t concern you, anyway.”

  Flint grabbed her arm, spinning her around. “It does! It affects all of us. What do you think everyone is talking about when the two of you walk past?”

  “They’re allowed to think whatever they want,” Mercy said, facing him. She liked Flint, but this new, semi-hostile behavior she did not enjoy. “What are you really upset about, Flint?”

  “They’re...they’re calling you a traitor.” His lips tightened and his eyes shone.