by Raine Thomas
His heart squeezed painfully. He couldn’t think her name.
Not yet.
Needing a distraction, he asked, “Why are the Marauders different?”
She lifted her shoulders as if the answer was obvious. “‘Tis because they actually murdered someone ta get sent here, of course. The rest of us were all influenced...just like you.”
Chapter 21
Kyr’s eyes opened. She didn’t remember dozing off.
After finding out that Gren had no idea how to use the eye color-changing wand, she had cleaned up the mess she had made, tied the second scarf over her hair, and followed him to his chambers. He hadn’t wanted to linger in her chambers in case another Mynder decided to conduct a search. The short trip through the palace halls was a good test-run of her disguise. Because of her outfit and the fact that she kept her eyes lowered in a submissive way, people took her for a Wrym and ignored her. It hadn’t taken much effort to sneak into Gren’s chambers.
Now, she was propped up against the headboard of Gren’s bed. He was sitting beside her, his arm over her shoulders. She recalled him comforting her during the night after he told her that they would have to wait before taking action to find Ty. They must have both fallen asleep.
She couldn’t remember ever seeing Gren in anything other than full guard mode. He had removed his Mynder uniform and put on a simple tunic and casual pants once they got to his chambers. He had communicated through thought that he wasn’t sure if his chambers were monitored, so he wanted to stick with his usual routine just in case. With his eyes closed as he slept, he looked incredibly sweet.
The sentimental thought made her smile. Then her gaze moved from him to sweep around the rest of his chambers. Was he being monitored? If so, did they know she was in his room? What if they did and they somehow figured out who she was?
Her smile faded as concern mounted. Maybe involving Gren in her quest was a bad idea. Was she being selfish because she was too scared to do this on her own? Was she really willing to risk Gren getting into trouble because of her?
No, she wasn’t.
She had to use her abilities to make him forget he ever saw her. Though it distressed her, she knew it would be safest for him. Could she do it while he slept?
Without her intending it, she slipped into his consciousness. Her mind filled with images that she knew were coming from him. She couldn’t tell if what he was experiencing was a dream or a memory. Maybe it was a combination of both.
He was kissing a woman she didn’t recognize. The sight surprised her. She thought he had undergone the Ruvex Rite. Shouldn’t he be in a state of repression?
But Ty conducted his Rite, she remembered. Perhaps he had known Gren didn’t want that part of his mind repressed.
It didn’t matter. She needed to separate herself from Gren’s mind. This was far too personal, especially if it was a memory.
Yet she found herself hesitating, unwilling to turn away from a tender moment when everything in her reality was so unbearable. This dream reminded her of what she had to fight for.
When the couple parted, she noticed that Gren’s face bore no scars. He and the female he was holding both looked about the same age as Kyr and Ty now, maybe even younger. The female gazed at Gren with adoration on her pretty face. He stroked her cheek and opened his mouth to speak.
“Gren, will you help me?”
Kyr mentally observed as she entered the scene as a young girl. She couldn’t have been older than eight or nine. It was odd to see herself from another perspective. The scene struck a chord of familiarity in her, telling her this was a memory.
Gren carefully moved away from the female as he turned to the child. “What do you need, Ma’jah?”
“My stringed shuttle got stuck in that stupid gryndl tree. Would you fetch it down?”
Having access to Gren’s thoughts as she observed, Kyr knew that he thought the child version of her would climb the tree herself if he refused. He knew her well. She was intent on getting into mischief.
“Of course, Ma’jah.”
The child skipped off, clearly not surprised and expecting her Mynder to follow her. He turned to the female, whose face had fallen.
“I’ll only be a moment,” he promised, reaching out to touch her.
The female stepped away from him, her expression growing cold. “You’ll always only ever be a moment, GrenDane,” she countered. “And I’m always the one waiting for it. You clearly care more for her than you do me.”
“That’s not fair,” he said in a reasonable tone. “You know my role. I must—”
“You must choose,” she interrupted. “I’m tired of coming in second with you. You know what I’m risking for us. I shouldn’t have to beg you for the same consideration. You’re going to have to make a choice between me and what you see as your responsibility. Otherwise, this will never work.”
Kyr’s heart ached over the memory. She was only too aware that Gren had never stopped Mynding her. He had obviously made his choice.
Knowing she had overstepped herself, she eased back out of his mind. She wished she had more control over abilities so that she hadn’t seen that. Guilt rushed through her when she considered that she hadn’t exactly stopped observing, even when she realized what she had done.
That just added to the guilt she felt about what Gren had gone through. His responsibilities towards her had cost him, though she could only guess how much. There was no way she could involve him further. She had to wipe his recent memories of her.
Don’t even think about it.
She gasped. Gren hadn’t opened his eyes, but that had definitely been his thought. Even as that occurred to her, his eyelids parted.
What do you mean? she asked, trying for an innocent look.
I’ve known you for a long time, Kyr. Your thoughts may be guarded, but when you touch on my consciousness like you just did, it works both ways.
Her face grew hot with mortification. I’m so sorry about that, Gren. I wasn’t trying to read your thoughts, I swear.
Don’t worry about it. I know a forceful mind intrusion, and that wasn’t one. I’ll help you learn control.
She remembered Ty’s assurances that he would help her with her growing abilities. Pain lanced through her. Gren’s hold tightened.
We’ll find him, Kyr.
Gren, I really don’t think I can let you—
Stop. You can’t do this on your own, even with your abilities. The amount of influencing you would have to attempt in order to get the information you need would exhaust you. Think of how worn out you were yesterday after what you did, and then multiply that by ten. You need someone who can get you where you need to go within the palace so you don’t have to use all of your mental energy figuring it out.
I’ll be careful, she argued, but it lacked conviction.
Kyr, I fought for the right to Mynd you. I won. You shouldn’t take that right from me.
How could she stand in the face of that argument? How could she dismiss everything he had sacrificed over the years to maintain his duties towards her?
She couldn’t. It would be egregiously unfair to rob him of this opportunity to help her and make all of those sacrifices worthwhile.
Giving him a small smile, she thought, I’ll bet if you could go back in time right about now, you’d wave good luck to the other contestants and get as far from the competition as possible.
Nah. If I could go back, I’d warn myself about BinjDane’s tendency to hit below the belt so I could beat him faster and spare myself a heap of pain.
A surprised giggle had her nudging him. Thanks. I hope you know that I think of you as my family. You spent more time with me than my parents ever did. I know this will be easier with you by my side.
His expression didn’t convey the emotion that her words generated in him, and she didn’t let him know that she had picked up on it. She knew he appreciated what she had said and that he felt the same way. It was more than enough.
E
dging off the bed so she could visit the water closet, she thought, We need to decide on the best plan of attack. You said the emergency meeting of the Vawn is scheduled for after the burial, but when is the burial going to take place?
When the sun is highest in the sky.
She disconnected from his thoughts while she saw to her personal needs, but she continued mulling over their options in her own head. By the time she finished washing her hands, she thought she had a solid plan in place.
I think that we should— she began as she emerged from the water closet.
Eat, he interrupted.
She paused at the sight of many different food offerings on a tray. Since Gren didn’t have a table in his chambers, the tray was centered on the bed. He was once again sitting with his back against the headboard. In his hand was a half-eaten pastry.
How did you get all of this? she wondered, moving closer to the bed.
I had it delivered. Sent out the request last night. It was waiting for me outside the door.
Oh.
Come and eat. We need to get some meat on your bones and color in your complexion. You look like you’ve been lying in a death box for three days.
Once again, he surprised a laugh out of her. Rolling her eyes, she joined him on the bed and examined the options. She picked up a biscuit and broke it apart with her fingers. Gren grabbed it from her and took a bite.
Seriously? she thought.
He shrugged and handed the biscuit back to her. What’s that Earth saying? You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.
She shook her head and drizzled some of the cilla nectar that he had already tasted onto the biscuit. When she took a bite and the buttery sweetness hit her tongue, she was suddenly ravenous. Gren seemed to have an equally voracious appetite. They finished everything on the tray.
As she sipped a cup of tea, she thought, I need to get close to Vycor. I’m probably going to have to touch him to gain access to his deepest thoughts. The easiest way to do that is disguised as a Wrym. If I can get assigned as one of the Wrym working with him today, I can get within close contact of him.
I don’t like it. Too risky.
Of course it’s risky. But I’ve seen how Vycor and the Guardians act around the Wrym. They don’t even acknowledge that they’re there. They speak freely around them. They’re too arrogant not to.
Gren considered that. She felt him weighing his compulsion to keep her safe against the validity behind her plan. Eventually, he sighed.
I still don’t like it. But it’s the best chance we’ve got to get the information from Vycor.
She was both relieved and terrified that he was on board with the plan. But this was what she needed to do in order to get to Ty, she reminded herself.
Squaring her shoulders, she thought, The first thing we need to do is get me assigned as one of the Wrym on Vycor’s detail.
Gren nodded. Fortunately for us, that shouldn’t be too hard.
What do you mean?
The Mynder overseeing security for all of today’s events is SemDane.
Chapter 22
“You’re telling me that almost everyone in the Dark Lands was influenced to commit their crimes?” Ty asked.
Hope started to respond. A noise at the door had her snapping her mouth closed and scuttling away. She began grabbing plates off a shelf and tossing them onto the table. Her actions were so frantic that he was tempted to help her, but he wasn’t sure why.
A loud hissing sound masked the muted voices on the other side of the door. He guessed he was about to meet the three males from his memories. Instinct had him moving to the side of the room that would give him the advantage of assessing Hope’s companions before they were likely to notice him.
His eyes focused on the door as it opened. He looked beyond the three bodies that trudged in, wanting to see how secure this place was. There wasn’t much to see, however. From what he could tell, the door led to another small room.
He turned his attention to the newcomers as they filled the small entryway beside the eating area. They were covered from head to toe. Heavy boots, thick pants, what looked like a hodgepodge of different kinds of upper-body armor, hats, masks, and goggles. Each of them held large burlap sacks, none of them very full. Every inch of them was covered in pink dust.
They all removed their hats, masks, and goggles, revealing their faces. The first male was the largest, at least in girth. He had a barrel-sized chest and round head with heavy jowls. His dark eyes were nearly lost within folds of flesh. Judging by the gray in his long brown hair, he was advancing in years.
The second male was taller and thinner than the first. His skin had a gray pallor that told Ty he wasn’t in the best health. There was a shiftiness to his gaze that put Ty’s instincts on alert.
Ty was surprised by the age of the third male, who was the fittest-looking of the bunch. He barely looked like he had aged out of adolescence. Had this youth actually been forced to kill someone like he had?
“Damn, but that was a rough one,” the heavyset male declared as he took a deep breath. “Nice ta get back inta filtered air, that’s fer bloody sure.”
“Ya called that right, Barto,” the second male agreed as he stripped out of the rest of his gear and tossed it into the growing pile beside the door. “Ain’t had a day like that in ages.”
Ty’s eyes turned to Hope, who edged closer to the males while wringing her hands. “A rough one, eh, fellas? Did ya find anythin’ of value?”
“Not nearly what we’d hoped,” Barto replied. “Damn those Marauders. They keep expandin’ their huntin’ grounds. If those Peace Keepers don’t start doin’ their damn jobs, we’re gonna stop givin’ ‘em the goods. Curse the lot of ‘em.”
His voice was unusually loud. Ty wondered if his hearing had been impaired over the years or if he was a naturally boisterous person.
“Whatcha ya got cookin’ there, Hope?” the second male asked, sniffing the air. “Why don’t I smell anythin’?”
“The Growers didn’t stop by yet,” Hope said. Ty noticed her knuckles were white as she squeezed her hands together. “There’s only jerky ta eat.”
All of the males groaned. Hope’s eyes dropped to the floor. She looked as though she was accepting full responsibility for their disappointment. Ty weighed that in with the overall group dynamic he was piecing together.
“If it weren’t for yer need ta take in charity cases, Hope, we’d have the food we need ta get through,” Barto harrumphed.
The large man’s eyes moved over to the bench Ty had been lying on. He gave a slight jolt when he spotted Ty standing and staring at him instead.
“Bloody damn hell, female,” he cursed as he jerked a thumb in Ty’s direction, causing all eyes to move to him. “Ya could’ve warned me that he was finally coherent.”
“I’m sorry,” Hope said.
Barto approached Ty, but didn’t get too close. “He’s even more aware than they usually are at this point. What happened?”
“I don’t know,” Hope said, meeting Ty’s gaze. “He just…woke up.”
“Well, ya’ve been a bloody nuisance, ya have,” Barto told Ty. “I don’t know why we let Hope here convince us ta take ya in. Yer bound ta bring a storm of misfortune upon the lot of us.”
Ty stepped forward, which made Barto retreat. “Thank you for putting my needs ahead of yours, but you no longer have to. I’m leaving.”
“No!” Hope cried. She pressed her lips together and turned her gaze to the floor when everyone looked at her.
Barto’s frown eased into a more accommodating expression. “Now, now, lad, don’t be hasty. Ya don’t know what yer dealin’ with out there. We saved ya from a terrible fate, we did. Why don’t ya simmer down and join us for some over-salted jerky before ya go runnin’ off half-cocked?”
Ty opened his mouth to refuse, but he saw the expression on Hope’s face. For some reason, the idea of him leaving was causing her great distress.
He also really wanted to learn
more about what she had said regarding other Outcasts being like him.
“Fine,” he said at last. “Thank you.”
Barto smiled and snapped his fingers. “Hope, see ta it we’re all promptly served.”
“Of course,” she said, turning so fast the skirts of her faded green dress flared in a circle.
“Orran, Reider, wash yerselves up and then join us,” Barto instructed. “Our guest should feel free ta make himself comfortable at the table.”
The two other males headed off down one of the hallways. Ty knew Barto had worded his statement like it was optional, but the older male clearly expected to be obeyed. Ty saw no reason to argue. He took the chair Hope had used to chat with him and carried it back to the table. It occurred to him that there were only four seats.
“I’ll stand so none of you are inconvenienced,” he said to Barto, who was washing his hands in a small basin in the food preparation area.
“Nonsense,” Barto said. “Ya can use Hope’s seat.”
Ty frowned. He glanced at Hope, who gave him a subtle head shake. She apparently didn’t want him to argue.
He sat. Hope placed several strips of brown jerky on each plate, then distributed cups of water. Ty thanked her, causing her to blush as she stepped away from the table.
“No wonder ya want him ‘tween yer legs so bad, Hope,” came the second man’s voice as he entered the room. “Listen ta those palace manners. I’m surprised ya don’t lift yer skirts right here at the table.”
“Orran,” Hope gasped, her face flooding with color.
Barto chuckled as he sat at the table. “Now, now, Orran. What would Hope want with some bald freshy when she already has three seasoned men ta see ta her needs?”
Freshy? Ty thought.
“He means you, Freshy,” the third male, whose name he supposed was Reider, said as he sat next to Ty. “As in ‘fresh to the Dark Lands.’ Out here, you always know the freshies ‘cause of their bald heads, lack of proper gear, and haunted look in their eyes.”