by Eve Langlais
Apparently not in Roark’s mind. “You can watch if you like, but I’m going to sleep.”
“Of course you are, because the pretty little king needs his beauty rest.” She couldn’t help the nasty words. Her anger at him made little sense. He’d given her exactly what she wanted: space, no clinging or whining, no treating her as weak. So why did she want to attack him and scream?
Especially when he smirked. “Someone seems a little bit cranky. Maybe it’s you that needs a beauty rest.”
“Did you just call me ugly?” She was on an epic roll of insanity, and all he did was lie on his back, looking delicious. She couldn’t touch him. If she did, then he’d think he owned her and controlled the situation.
That couldn’t happen.
“You couldn’t be ugly if you tried. But you are grumpy when tired,” he remarked.
“Am not. I’m just careful when it comes to my safety outside protected walls.”
“This isn’t the Wasteland.” Said softly.
“You’re being complacent.”
He snorted. “That is the one thing no one could ever accuse me of being. I told you this place is safe. Believe me or not, it’s your choice. Now, if we’re done arguing, I’m going to sleep.”
Smug bastard. She might have glared as he turned on his side, his knapsack for a pillow, and closed his eyes.
He’d treated her just like she’d treated all the men she’d fucked before. She didn’t like it one bit. Especially since she was the one who was supposed to put him at arm’s length. How dare he take that from her?
Glaring at him wouldn’t keep them from being ambushed. He put a lot of faith in a treehouse with its trapdoor barred. The windows were open and strung only with a screen, sections of it repaired with thick twine. It seemed rather exposed.
She’d been raised in the Wasteland, a much wilder, more dangerous place than this side of the continent. Peering out, there was more to see than expected. At the base of the tree a ring of glowing flowers provided light. Odd how pretty and distinct they were given, in the daytime, it appeared as flat weedy ground cover.
In that light she saw bugs flitting, their many wings a flutter of motion and color as they reflected the glow of the flowers. As she watched the beauty of it, she kept waiting for the ugly to hit. For the bug-eating creature that would suddenly pounce into view and slurp them up.
Instead her eyes drooped. She shifted to try and remain awake, reflecting on the day. A crazy day. She’d even seen her first ocean. The memory of it retained much of its awe.
The forest continued to be annoyingly peaceful. So boring. She would have fallen asleep If not for the occasional crashing sounds as giant husks dropped from the trees. At one point, even those couldn’t keep her from dozing.
When she toppled over, she woke with a startled squeak. She lay there on the floor, able to see Roark snuggled in the blanket he’d pulled out. She wanted more than anything to curl up beside him.
What if he rejected her?
Yet another reason to not succumb. A few hours before dawn, despite what he’d said, she woke him for his turn. He sat up immediately, no question, no sleepiness. Almost as if he’d not been asleep at all. She fell face first onto his knapsack, snaring the blanket for her own rest. She did not wake until the sun streaked hotly over her face.
Surely it wasn’t time to get up already. Lying on her back, she opened her eyes to see the thatched ceiling rising in a peak. The tree’s own limbs formed the framework, shaped into a cone then lashed in place. Construction in tune with nature. She wondered who originally made it.
Stretching, she closed her eyes, stretched her legs, pointed her toes. Even her arms pulled out and her fingers wiggled. She froze at a sudden weight on her chest.
Nothing heavy but definitely not something that should be there. A slow opening of her eyes showed her the puckered anus of some animal. Not a big creature. Small and lithe, tan and dark fur. The hole flexed and released gas.
Incredulity only froze her for a second. Long enough for the smell to hit.
“Nasty thing! How did you get here? Doesn’t matter, I’m going to kill you!” Casey yelled, shoving to her feet and sending Sachi flying.
The feline hit the ground on four paws and with a grace that didn’t match the smell in the air. The cat’s head tilted, and she hissed before turning sideways to show her rising hackles.
“Go ahead and try.” Casey bared her teeth at the cat. “I will skin you and make some mittens.”
The cat uttered a pitiful meow, which resulted in a head popping through the opening in the floor. “Sachi, what’s wrong?”
He showed pity for the wrong thing. Casey growled. “Your cat hates me.”
“I highly doubt that. Sachi doesn’t hate anyone.”
“Really? Then explain why your fucking cat passed gas in my face.” She pointed at her offended nostrils.
“I highly doubt it was on purpose.” He entered the treehouse, his wide presence consuming the space.
“Says you. I saw the way she looked at me.” Casey glared at the feline now playing innocent and licking her fur. “It is on.”
He appeared as if trying to not laugh. “My cat doesn’t hate you.”
“How would you know? Have you read her mind?” She narrowed her gaze on him. Could he do that?
“No. I can only relate to human minds.”
“Axel can kind of read the ones of the wolgar.”
“Less reading and more like he talks to them. They communicate on a frequency most humans can’t hear.”
“But some Deviants can.”
“All of humanity is deviant. But like the color of skin and eyes, even the shape of the nose, their abilities are all different. So Axel can speak with wolgar, I can do it with humans, and you can fool the eye of both.”
She blinked. “I hadn’t thought of that. So wait a second, since my powers work with just about everyone, and yours don’t, does that make me better than you?”
“You wish.” He winked. “Now, were you planning to lounge here all day or get your lazy ass moving?”
“It’s the crack of dawn.”
“I know. The day is passing, and you’re not moving. Good thing Sachi already caught breakfast. It’s gutted and skinned, ready to go.”
“You want me to eat raw meat?” Her nose wrinkled.
“Judging by your face? Apparently not. But we can’t have a fire here. We’ll head for the bluffs first.”
She didn’t take long to pack her things, not that he stuck around to wait.
“I’ll go get started on that fire.”
He left, and she should have appreciated the fact he didn’t feel like she needed his aid. Should have, and yet instead, she simmered.
When she emerged from the tree, she found him sitting cross-legged by a bright blaze formed of broken sticks set as a base for a cracked open nut. The fire danced from it and licked the meat skewered and dangling over it. He looked entirely at ease, despite the cat perched on his shoulder.
It became more and more obvious the king didn’t actually need her on this mission. Which made her wonder why he’d agreed to bring her along.
Could it be he wanted in her pants? He had, after all, kissed her first.
But did last night mean anything? She’d barely spoken to him since their—she didn’t know what to call it. Encounter? Lapse of reason? Memory that kept igniting the spot between her thighs?
He didn’t seem affected. Didn’t seem to care. What was wrong with her that she grumbled at the fact that, unlike her brother, he didn’t hover? Surely, she didn’t miss someone fussing over her?
“I can’t believe you cooked. I had rations still,” she noted, sitting beside him and sliding her pack to the ground.
“I prefer fresh when possible.”
She looked out at the ocean instead of him, admiring the glassy sheen, seeing the reflection of the skies above on the surface. “It’s like a mirror.”
“According to history, before t
he Fall, the oceans used to move in and out of the shore in never-ending waves.”
“Why did it stop?”
“There are a few theories. The religious believe it was because the gods living in the waters died when the old world ended.”
“Gods!” She snorted.
“I’ve heard a story that says the broken moon is to blame.”
“How can something in the sky cause waves?” She shook her head.
“You might like the last theory that claims monsters must have eaten or broken whatever machine caused the waves.”
“There’s monsters in the ocean?”
“Yes. Massive ones. Never trust what you see on the surface because it hides what’s underneath. The seas are a dangerous place. Don’t ever go swimming alone.”
As if to punctuate the point, something soared from the water. A massive body suddenly emerging and arching, mouth open wide, in time to snare a passing bird. It hit the water with a splash that sent out ripples that stilled quickly. The mirror returning once more.
“That’s insane.”
“And delicious. This, I’m afraid, will only be passable.” He handed her the stick so she could tear off a strip of meat.
It proved quite yummy despite what he said. As they ate, crossed-legged on the ground, she studied the massive gnarled tree they’d crawled out of, the hole in its trunk ominous. The branches sported only a few dry leaves.
She made a face at it. “It looks dead.” Yet she hadn’t forgotten the roots underground.
“The correct term here is innocuous. On the top, it appears benign and even in ill health, which makes no sense given it obviously is in a fertile place with plenty of nutrients and water.”
“The outside is a disguise because its true growth is below the earth.” She chewed on some of the crunchy, fatty meat. He’d seasoned it with something that made her mouth very happy. “Does any of it move on the outside?”
“Nothing above ground even at night. Only below the earth, with the caveat being, since there is no clear day and night, they’re always awake, just more sluggish when its upper half is being bathed in sunlight.”
“In the Wasteland, I knew a place, Seimor Forest. It would go after anything living it could find the moment it turned dark. You had to stay on this one spot in a lake to be safe.”
“The marshes have their own dangers when the sun goes down.”
“Is it true you control the things that live in them?” Someone had said something about the king being the ruler of even the sorriest bog creature.
“No. My abilities only let me do things like shape the mud and water.”
“Into what?”
He shrugged. “Anything I want.”
She stored that info along with all his other skills. How many more to go? “Is that why people decided to follow you?”
“They don’t care about my psionic abilities, although they do come in handy.”
“I still don’t get how Eden grew to be so big.” Axel had been doing the same thing for almost a decade and only had a fraction of the number.
“Growth comes by giving people a place to go that promises some form of safety.”
“But how did they know they could trust you?”
“They have good taste.”
She made a face. “Seriously?”
“Let me ask instead, what made you decide to stick with Axel?”
“He wasn’t an asshole.”
“There was more to it than that I’m sure.”
“Actually, not much more.” By the time Casey and Cam had encountered Axel, they were savvy and could have remained on their own, but there was something to be said about having other people around. Of sometimes being able to relax and talk to someone other than her brother.
“The people I bumped into also didn’t think I was an asshole.”
“How many of them did you save?”
“More than I should have had to.” He cast her a glance shuttered with dark lashes. “It shouldn’t be so hard to live.”
“You should get that printed on a shirt as your rebellion logo.”
The remark brought a bark of laughter. “Except, I’m not advocating rebellion. We’re not trying to fight the Enclave or the other kingdoms. We just want the right to exist and make our own laws.”
“Careful, you almost sounded noble there.”
“Can’t have that, now can we?” He rose to his feet and held his hand over the fire. It instantly smothered. Even the heat disappeared.
A man of many talents and secrets. And he wanted her to trust him?
Hadn’t she proven she did already?
They discovered their bikes not far from the tree. Spat out overnight, according to him. The roots didn’t like garbage in their lair.
Which made her wonder how the cat got to them? Roark didn’t seem surprised to see her. Odd. Because he used to think she never left the castle.
It was only when she saw the cat climb into his knapsack that she exclaimed, “You brought the cat on purpose?”
“Not exactly. She hid inside my bag.”
“How did you not notice?”
He shrugged. “Maybe she’s related to you.”
The remark brought a scowl. “We can’t bring her to the city.”
“We can’t leave her behind.”
And that was the end of that conversation.
They made good time racing along the bluffs. Her gaze was often drawn to the blue horizon. She’d not seen another giant of the sea, but at least now she knew they lurked.
It took hours before they saw signs of life. He slowed down as they passed a few sparsely spaced homes with fenced gardens.
“A few of these houses have children,” he explained.
Indeed, he’d no sooner said it than a young boy dashed out in front with a little girl toddling after him. The father followed not far behind, eyeing them on their halted bikes. They’d braked in time, but good thing they’d been going slower.
It was as the homes began to cluster, the tree line pushed back, that she said, “They don’t live inside walls.”
“Nope.”
“They do in the Marsh.” Even the Haven Outpost had a barricade on land. The water, though, required guards.
“Because there are more dangers. But if a place could be called paradise, this area around the port would be it.”
“Eden is a great place,” she defended.
“Yes, it is.”
She’d noticed as they travelled, the line of bluffs remained just as high as ever from the ocean surface; therefore, the dip she could see coming didn’t surprise. What did shock was the size of the valley and how populated it was. If she’d thought Eden, the marsh city, huge, she had no word for Port City.
It sprawled across the land, a ragged tableau of buildings and color. Sounds, too. But no smoke. Not a single chimney spewed garbage into the air. A stream of vehicles entered a large building at the edge of the bowl.
“Parking,” he said.
She could hardly take it all in. She didn’t realize she’d stopped in the way until people cursed at her as they tried to get around.
Roark ran a hand over his face, and when he revealed it, he’d changed only a few subtle parts of his appearance. “No use letting them know we’re coming.”
“If they have spies, then they know.”
“They’ll be expecting us at the other entrance, the north one. That’s the most direct path from the city on the surface. But we used the secret tunnels.”
Meaning they might be able to sneak in.
The line they were in inched toward the giant warehouse, a multi-level affair meant for parking vehicles to keep the city noise and accident free. Their bikes were ticketed and taken away by attendants, leaving them in the exiting throng.
“How come it’s so busy?” she asked.
“Because south of the city are the most fertile lands and even more population, including two more rather large towns. The fact the majority of their goods and ci
tizens live in the south has been part of the reason I think Sapphire left those of us in the Marshes alone.”
She felt very uninformed and unimportant in that moment, realizing how little she knew. How useless she was.
Roark had no qualms. He veered from the crowd of people moving along the road into a sprawling network of buildings, many of them shops, some wafting smells that made her belly growl.
She kept pace with him. “Where are you going? I thought we wanted into the city.”
“We do. But we’re not going through the front door and wandering around.”
Her expression brightened. “You know of a tunnel to get inside.”
“I do, although it’s less tunnel and more of a leftover from an old transportation system.”
“Is it guarded?”
“What do you think?” His disdain was well deserved.
“Are we going to have to fight?”
“Maybe.”
“You sure know how to show a person a good time.”
“Was that sarcasm or pleasure?” he asked.
“How about a bit of both?”
He led them to a fenced-in area at the top of the lip. The metal bars had been spaced barely wide enough apart to stick her arm through. She could see stone slabs set flat in the ground, while others stood as monuments, short, tall, some ornate statues. Even box-like shapes.
“What is this place?” she asked as they entered through the front gates.
“A cemetery.”
The word didn’t match what she saw. “A cemetery is where something leaves the remains of those it’s killed. This is too organized for that.” Not to mention it appeared human.
His chuckle didn’t help. “This cemetery is where people put the bodies of those who’ve died and pay tribute to them.”
“There are dead people in here,” she said as they wove their way through verdant mown grass.
“Yes. Some are in the ground.” He pointed to a flat surface carved with words and numbers. “Others in crypts.” He indicated a stone box inscribed with a eulogy.
She frowned. “What is wrong with their families? Burying the dead in the ground instead of recycling them. That’s so selfish.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask what you mean.” He stopped by a crypt larger than the rest.