The Last Narkoy_OSLO

by Elizabeth Price

  Sedom glared up at the Lord. “As long as I feel pain, I know I am alive!” she yelled back. “I am ALIVE!” She fell forward, allowing her forehead to rest on the cool marbled floor. Painful tears clouded her eyes, creating a puddle around her forehead.

  Waar raised his fist in fury towards Sedom. Lord Wyice had seized the man’s hand. For a long moment, he allowed her to rest on the floor. The room grew silent, but she could feel the eyes of everyone present watching her.

  Lord Wyice finally broke the silence by asking, “Why are you doing this to yourself? To me? I have only shown you kindness. Is this how you repay kindness?”

  Sedom closed her eyes tighter, her entire body screaming in agony. He pulled her off the floor, forcing her to sit upright. The swelling in his cheek was already becoming noticeable from where she had stricken him.

  “I can’t,” she gulped hard. “I can’t fight you. Not anymore. Please, call off your crass minion. I am unfit to play. I forfeit this game,” she hissed.

  Waar’s eyes bulged. Never in all his life had a slave insulted him and now Sedom had managed to insult him twice in a row. Lord Wyice could sense Waar’s frustration but his outstretched hand was able to hold the man at bay.

  “A game? You think this is a game?” Lord Wyice questioned. “Syrok, this is not a game. Don't you realize if you leave this room the Cassaus will have you destroyed?” he voiced loudly. “I suggest you start behaving and realize I'm the only one who's keeping you alive,” he whispered, his eyes flashing with red.

  Sedom bit her bottom lip to keep from crying from her pain. “You left me behind!” she howled, her top lip moistened with sweat.

  She wasn't going to back down now. She was able to make her mark on his face. That meant she had proven formidable, yet still he allowed her to live. Therefore, formidable is what the Lord wanted.

  He moved another lock of hair away from her moist cheek. “I did no such thing. I did what I needed to protect you,” he whispered. He brushed his thumb over her cheek to collect her tears. “You’re in a lot of pain and very emotional. Set aside our past and allow me to be your friend. I want to help you. I’m desperate to help you,” he offered.

  “Why would the Lord of the Midossier help a Narkoy? You are the man who murdered millions of my people. For all I know, you enjoy seeing me suffer like this,” Sedom snarled.

  Had she gone too far? Only a few knew of the name of his home. He was sure to question how she knew.

  Lord Wyice shook his head in puzzlement. “I see,” he smirked. He slowly stood, nodding stiffly. “There’s more in that head of yours than you should know about,” he mentioned.

  Sedom turned away, frustrated by what she said. “Well… don’t you?” she snapped back.

  He shook his head. “I take no pleasure in this, no. Understand, Syrok, I purchased you from the Cassius, not from Terrill. He lost all rights to you when he proved he couldn’t handle you.”

  “He wasn’t paid for me?” she asked with seething amusement.

  Lord Wyice shrugged. “I’m sure he was paid something, but nothing close to your worth. I, on the other hand, paid a great deal for you. But the deal also included you killing Renca. Until you are able to pay me back the money I spent, you are mine.”

  He pointed to the door and three armed guards automatically went to the door in case Sedom attempted to bolt again. She noticed, but all she could think of was the pouch of firestones she had back home on her dresser. How she would kill to have it in her possession at that moment.

  He reached his hand down to her, palm up. “I offer you friendship. I suggest you accept it.” He grabbed her good arm, holding her tightly. He pulled her off the floor, forcing her to look him in the eyes. “It would make life easier for the both of us,” he offered.

  Sedom pulled her good arm away with a jerk. She turned to the door, which was guarded now by five men. For a long moment, she remained motionless, trying everything she could to fight back the pain of her arm.

  “You need to relax, Syrok. Your arm isn’t going to heal if you continue like this,” Lord Wyice said with concern.

  She didn’t respond. She couldn’t respond. All she could feel was the throbbing sensation of her arm. It was as if her bone was made of sand. She bent forward, resting her head against Lord Wyice’s chest, shocking him.

  “I can help, if you will trust me,” he whispered.

  “How can I trust you? You’ve killed so many of my people,” she gasped, her body quivering.

  “Yes, yes, I know. But, why would I risk losing so much money? You’re an investment. I’m not going to ruin an investment,” he offered once again. “We can play these mind games once you’ve healed. I’m looking forward to it. It’s rare I find a decent competitor,” he complimented. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. “Syrok, Syrok, Syrok, what am I going to do with you? You are a handful.”

  She shook her head against his chest, feeling his silky cape tickle her cheeks. “Why?” she cried. Softly she pounded her good fist against his chest. “WHY?” she yelled.

  “Shush now.” He held her tighter. “I hold no malice towards your people. I was hired to do a job. You’re honestly the first Narkoy I’ve ever met. I’m… curious about you,” he admitted.

  “A job? Murdering an entire race of people isn’t simply a job, Lord Wyice,” Sedom returned calmly.

  He shook his head. “No. My job was to create an airborne pathogen that would compromise white blood cells’ ability to reproduce or defend itself with a Narkoy host. The actual virus released by the Marisheio came from another source, not me. They used the virus in conjunction with my pathogen to destroy your people,” he explained.

  Her mind was so fuzzy from the pain of her arm, it was causing her difficulty with thinking clearly. She stumbled back, holding onto one of the massive columns that held up the roof.

  “Um… how do I pay you back so you’ll let me go free?” she hissed.

  Lord Wyice leaned against the same column, kneeling over her and blocking her from everyone else’s view in the room. “We will arrange something, in time,” he spoke in an elegant voice. “Do you understand I am merely a player in a much larger game?” he asked in a whisper. She nodded.

  He removed a small silver container from his cape’s inner pocket and took out two small, purple crystals.

  “Take this. It will help dull the pain,” he offered.

  Sedom stared at the crystals in his hand. “What will they make me do?” she questioned, gazing into his eyes. His eyes were hypnotic, drawing her to him.

  “They’re called Childro. They will help you relax,” he offered. He brushed his hand through her hair, releasing it from its tie. “It will rid you of pain…” he took hold of Sedom's neck and pulled her closer to him. Tenderly, he placed the crystals on her tongue. “Not care about anyone or anything. It will let you be free,” he whispered.

  Within seconds she could feel the crystal’s magic melt away her pain and her anxiety. She closed her eyes, living in the sensation. Her entire body felt a tingling warmth. The sensation caused small giggles to escape her lips.

  “That’s a girl,” Lord Wyice soothed. He brushed his fingers over her face. She moistened her lips, feeling a slight breeze brush over them. As she did, Lord Wyice ran his fingers through her hair then to her temples.

  Her head flew back. Energy soared through her brain with the intensity of a five-alarm migraine. She attempted to scream out but found Lord Wyice's lips passionately pressed against her own. He needed to kiss her, to fell her fire ever since he first gazed upon her. He released her neck, parting from their kiss.

  Sedom stumbled away. Her collar causing her stomach to churn, the metallic hum from the malfunctioning parts screeching in her ears. She took hold of a column to remain upright, her knees too weak to hold her.

  Waar pointed to her collar. “Lord, her collar is sparking,” he said, motioning to the collar in a panic.

  She dropped to her knees, holding her hand to her
forehead. Even under the sensation of the Childro, her brain felt like it was going to explode. Her breath quickened, causing her difficulties with seeing straight. Once more she knelt with her forehead to the cool marble flooring.

  Lord Wyice anxiously nodded when he too noticed the sparking collar. “What did I purchase?” he grumbled. He knelt to her, taking her by the shoulders. “Syrok? Can you tell me what’s happening to you?”

  “It hurts,” she squeaked. Her mind suddenly flashed red, her thoughts so foggy that she couldn’t tell if she was even breathing. “Stay away! I’m not… right,” she demanded.

  “Syrok, I need you to sit up,” Lord Wyice insisted. “Find a doctor!” he demanded.

  He forced her upright against the pillar. With a firm jaw, Sedom punched Lord Wyice across the face. It wasn’t because of his demands she hit him, it was because she needed to lunge out at something, anything to help the pain disappear. She screamed out, holding her head between her raised legs.

  Lord Wyice recoiled, feeling the throbbing start in his eye. She shoved him away as she fell to the floor.

  “Stay away from me!” she insisted in heaving words. “This… isn’t me. Isn’t me!” she cried.

  Waar's mouth dropped seeing Lord Wyice cradling his jaw and eye. “Now you've done it,” he yelled.

  Lord Wyice held up his hand for his aid to back away. “Don’t,” he ordered.

  Sedom’s brain felt like it was about to burst. She rolled into a ball, her hands cupping her skull. Her eyes tried to focus but all she could see was the blurred vision of Lord Wyice and Waar.

  “Bralistain!” Sedom cussed to herself. “I didn’t mean to… NO! Make it stop,” she screamed out in agony.

  “I know you didn’t,” he returned, his voice understanding. She felt Lord Wyice’s hand on her shoulder. “Something’s wrong with her collar,” she could hear him say. He tapped her cheek. “Syrok, I need you to look at me,” he ordered.

  Sedom turned to him, barely able to open her eyes. He took her chin in his hands, forcing her to open her eyes. “I know it’s unpleasant, but I need to see your eyes,” he insisted. Sedom’s eyes fluttered open, revealing red rings around her iris. “You can close them,” he whispered.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Waar asked.

  “She has an infection from her collar. It’s no wonder she’s acting so unstable. It also explains how she can strike me,” he grumbled. “Move her over to the sofa,” he demanded his guards.

  She felt her body lifted off the floor and rested on the soft cushions of a sofa. Moments later, she felt Lord Wyice’s hand on her shoulder again.

  “Can you do that?” Waar asked.

  “I own her. I can do whatever I want with her,” he returned. Carefully, he rolled Sedom onto her side to examine where the collar entered her brainstem. The skin around her collar was a dark blue with streaks of green. “It looks like someone short-circuited the collar.”

  “Maybe in the arena?” Waar questioned.

  Lord Wyice shook his head as he examined the collar. “No. This was someone who knew what they were doing,” he mentioned in a grumble as he prodded the collar. “Syrok, I need you to remain calm. I’m going to remove the collar. It’s going to sting at first,” he directed Sedom.

  Hands touched the area where her collar attached to her brainstem, causing her to cry out. The collar fell off, landing on the floor. The sudden rush of air to the wound where the collar attached caused her to cry out with agonizing screams.

  An intense deep buzzing enveloped her mind. She could feel her body shake uncontrollably, her hands growing so stiff she thought they would crack off.

  “Make it stop!” she cried, holding her hand over her ear, only able to shield one. She took hold of Lord Wyice’s cape, wrapping her head in the silky cloth. “Please, make it stop…” she begged. Her eyes fluttered shut.

  Lord Wyice turned Sedom over his knee noticing a deep bloody bruise where her collar had been attached. “As I feared, this is badly infected. We can’t let this reach her arm or she’ll be dead within days.” He reached to Sedom's neck, checking for a pulse. “Erratic. Syrok, can you hear me?” he questioned, tapping her face softly. She couldn’t respond.

  Calmly, he picked her up and stood, turning to Waar. “Take her upstairs and send for the doctor,” he ordered. “And make sure her door is locked! Remember who you’re dealing with,” he barked, handing her to one of the guards.

  Waar waited a moment, watching Lord Wyice. The Lord was kneeling on the ground, rubbing his fingers through a small puddle of Sedom’s blood she left behind. He stood, motioning to the blood.

  “Have someone collect this in a specimen jar. I want to analyze it. She’s Narkoy, the virus should have killed her,” he mentioned low.

  “She was on Juvin-que when it was released into Matrador’s atmosphere. Rumors also claim she still battles the fevers. That’s why she employs Ratisha--” Waar explained low.

  “Ratisha? My Ratisha?” Lord Wyice yelled. “I thought I order her to be destroyed? She’s too dangerous!” he questioned between gritted teeth.

  Waar nodded several times. “We did. We scrambled her mind, as requested. But… she’s resourceful.”

  Lord Wyice sauntered over to Waar, glaring down at him. “Say you’ll arrange for her to be eliminated. She’s a threat,” he growled.

  Waar motioned to the room the guard took Sedom. “And that isn’t?” he barked back. Lord Wyice glared at him. “Fine. What would you like me to do with her?”

  “Keep her comfortable. I spent a lot of money on her. I might as well figure out a way to use her,” Lord Wyice mentioned. “I’ll be in the study.”

  As he left, the hall filled with Sedom’s shrilling cries.

  Waar dashed into the room to find Sedom rolled into a ball on the floor near her bed, cupping her head. Waar’s attention went to her guard.

  “What happened?” Waar asked with urgency.

  The guard stood above Sedom, his arms crossed. “She attacked me. I threw her to the floor.”

  Waar pushed Sedom upright so he could look at her face. “Syrok, you need to stop this. I understand you’re sick, but you’re going to get yourself killed. Do yourself a big favor, allow me to help you.”

  “Help?” she laughed.

  “Believe me or not, we are not your enemy. You’re not thinking clearly. Your collar has caused an infection that is clouding your mind,” Waar returned in a normal voice. “I know you're not the kind of person that accepts help, but I strongly suggest you accept mine. Trusting me may be the only way you can survive.” He took up her hand on her broken arm, massaging softly.

  Trust? This could come as an advantage. “Play the game, Sedom. Play the game,” she thought to herself. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand to make her seem more venerable than she actually was. If this man was offering to help her, she was going to use this to her advantage. If the best way to play on a man’s sympathy was to let out a few tears than so be it.

  “I would hate to see a talented, yet unruly…” he paused, glancing down at her hand where her tattoos of two moons were inked. His eyes turned to hers, “…oh, very powerful girl--” he corrected.

  Sedom glanced at her hand. “Tras-bulla!” she gulped.

  “…get killed. I thought so,” he continued sternly. He placed his thumb over her tattoos. “Please find me a bandage,” he said calmly to her guard.

  “I can explain,” she whispered.

  He gently rolled his hand across Sedom’s cheek, gathering her tears in his hand. “It’s best you don’t say anything. Lord Wyice already has his suspicions. It’s the main reason why he purchased you.” Then Waar pointed to a dresser where the guard handed him a face towel from the dresser along with a bandage.

  Carefully, he wrapped her hand with the bandage. “We’ll have to keep an eye on this, or it might get infected also,” he said as if warning her, then handed her the towel. “Listen to me and everything will be alright. The last thing we want is
you coming to any harm. Lord Wyice is merely an outside contractor. We don’t want any trouble,” he whispered reassuringly.

  Sedom nodded, uncertain what he had planned. He stared at her for a long time as if memorizing her face. “You’re quite a young girl, aren’t you? I always pictured you older,” he asked amazed.

  “Most do,” she admitted.

  “How old are you?” he asked, the look in his eyes causing Sedom to believe he was thinking and not really asking her.

  “Thirteen,” she gulped.

  “Thirteen? Huh. You’ve accomplished a lot for thirteen,” he said as he nodded, again deep in thought. He glanced at the door briefly, signaling to Sedom they were being watched. “How did you get caught up in all of this? I didn’t think they’d let you leave the safety of your… home,” he asked, hinting at Gathow. His thick skin wrinkled around his eyes as he spoke.

  Sedom could tell from the tone of Waar's voice and his facial expression that he was sincere. Sedom leaned her head on her raised knee, still feeling the tingling affects of the Childro Lord Wyice gave her.

  “We were on a mission to retrieve… something and my ship was shot down. We never meant to step foot on this planet,” she admitted. How am I going to get out of this one? Sedom asked herself in a thought, though her expression said the exact same thing.

  Waar knew the look all too clearly. “With luck and patience,” he replied point-blank. “But it's nothing that can't be fixed. We are not your friends… but we’re also not your enemies,” Waar informed with a friendly voice. “Lord Wyice is a forgiving man. You punched him, hard. He doesn’t typically forgive that kind of thing. Though… you are ill and Narkoy. Considering the history involved--” he mentioned.

  Sedom nodded against her raised legs. “I’m in so much pain. I didn’t… I had to… feel something else, anything else. I don’t like him, but I didn’t mean to hurt him. I really don’t want to hurt anyone,” she returned. She could tell by the look in Waar’s eyes she said exactly what she should have. “He knows who I am?” she asked in a whisper.