She didn't elaborate. The recollections were too raw, too personal. She paused to collect herself. It was a terrible time, and she stuffed the memories back to a forgotten corner of her brain.
Finna decided to change the topic and asked Miri, who up to this point was so irreverent to everyone and anyone, about what had been on her mind since she joined Leeth’s team.
Finna’s eyes never stopped scanning their close horizon.
Finn snorted and put a hand over her mouth to cover the sound.
Miri’s voice softened.
Leeth’s voice interrupted with an urgent ring.
64
Vald’s Pitch
Hubris Defined
Finna’s view of the lush green battle area morphed into a small, damp, crowded, rough-hewn, cell. Numerous guards lined the other side of the iron bars. Leeth, close by her side, touched his temple and put one finger over his mouth, indicating no talking, mental or verbal.
Yet, Finna heard a foreign voice in her head. Following directions, she said nothing, but jerked her head toward the guards and touched her ear, willing Leeth to understand she could hear what they said, just as she had heard the Silva in the woods.
He returned her stare but gave no indication he understood her meaning. She scratched her ear and caught his eye once more. Slowly, she tapped her temple twice.
He responded with a shake of his head, which gave her no clue as to what he understood. Tapping his lips with a finger, he stepped toward the back of the small area into a dark corner, and she followed as inconspicuously as possible.
With a gentle hand over her mouth, he whispered so softly she barely heard him. “What are you trying to tell me?”
After he had removed his hand, she mouthed, "I can hear them." Before he could respond, she spoke rapidly. "Why are we imprisoned? Who the hell took us?"
He looked back at the guards. “Someone not present on the battlefield. If I had to guess, I’d say Vald has a hand in it.”
"That despicable man toys with us."
Leeth took her arm. “You can you hear the mind communication of the Siva?”
“Yes. Can’t you?”
He nodded, holding his thumb and index finger close together. “A little. Keep alert.”
How strange. Her skill was better than Leeth’s. “Can they hear us?”
“No. I’m guessing now they cannot hear us using mind speak.”
“How so, Sir Seeker?”
He closed one eye and frowned at her. “You mock me.”
"No, I question you. Why do you now think the Silva cannot hear our minds?"
"I'll tell you when we have more time. For now, understand that I believe we of Earth are different enough from them that they can't hear us while some of us are starting to hear them. It will make good sense what I have time to explain.
She agreed and went to sit with Yasmin, who had a hand on Jamal’s knee. Tood, Mira, and Knosh huddled together next to them, engaged in quiet talk.
“Did you learn anything?” her friend asked.
“Nothing.” She cocked her head and raised a finger so only Yasmin and Jamal could see it and move closer to her.
A new voice entered her head.
Another strange voice.
He jerked a thumb toward the cell Finna and her fighting unit occupied.
Another Silva answered, and Finna listened carefully. She didn't feel special that she had the skill to hear. She felt trapped, hungry, angry, and annoyed.
The first one replied,
The others? All the others? A jolt of fear shot through Finna. What the hell was going on? She glanced at Leeth who had his eyes shut and wore no expression at all on his face.
A deeper, more commanding voice answered.
The one in charge? Allegiance to Silva? Never.
As she opened her mouth to tell Leeth what she’d heard, the prison cell vanished around her.
* * *
Finna had been repositioned to Vald’s presence, and inexplicably, Jamal was at her side. The vile man faced them from behind his desk. Why did he want just the two of them? She kept her eyes low and fought the urge to glare at the bastard. How she despised the scrawny, duplicitous, ancient man. She touched Jamal’s arm to follow her lead and waited for Vald to speak.
“I’m sorry about your temporary stay in that dank cell, Daughter. My men had orders to imprison your entire group except for you and Jamal." He waved a hand in dismissal. "It doesn't matter. You are here now."
If he thought polite talk would excuse his actions, he was ill-advised. “For what purpose, Father?” Oh, she’d play his pseudo-shit game of respect, but she never was and never would be, his to command.
“We want to recognize your display of respect for our Lord God of the Maelstrom during the crossing. We extend our hands and heart to you in an invitation to become a full member of Clan Silva.”
He referred to himself like a royal. Who the sarding hell did he think he was?
Leeth called it hubris. A good word, she would remember it. As if joining the Silva was her first choice. Or last, for that matter. Well, it solved the puzzle of why Jamal was there. He was with her when she was on her knees looking at the fit of the stones at exactly the time the Sylva dropped to their knees to worship the Maelstrom. She gave the boy a quick frown, hoping to hell he didn’t react to Vald’s offer.
Collecting her resolve to stay calm, she said, "Thank you, Father. We have only been made aware of the existence of our two species within the past month. We feel ill-prepared to know how we might best serve. We have spent most of our time in flight from Jamal's father, who would enslave him and his mother." Although she was not sure if there was any logic in mentioning those facts, she certainly didn't want to give anything away inadvertently.
Vald’s face took on a painfully artificial smile. “My dear children, as members of Silva, no one would harm you. You would no longer have a reason to fear the prince.”
“That is good,” she said. “What of the others?”
His saccharin smile dissolved
. “You mean Leeth and the rest of your fighting unit, I assume. If they refuse our generous offer to join our people, and by that, I mean swear loyalty to our God and family, then we shall deliver them unto that God for direct assimilation.”
Finna gave Jamal credit. He had remained and had asked no questions. Until now. “What of my mother, Father?”
Vald tented his fingers. “We know little about her. Does she share your views of our people?”
"My mother is a warrior, the equal of Finna. However, the Prince kept her prisoner, and she knows little of the world, of any world. She would sacrifice everything to be with me."
Finna cringed. Jamal may have thought vulnerability made Yasmin a better candidate in Vald’s mind, but he was giving away a valuable detail for leverage. The boy continued.
“Leeth, the one who brought us here, has said nothing to denigrate the Silva nor has he made an offer to make us a part of his clan. He told us that after the battle, should we survive, he would give us our options.”
Finna wanted to hug Jamal. Such diplomacy from a twelve-year-old was amazing. She remained still, waiting.
Vald tented his fingers and tapped them together. His eyes shifted from the boy back to Finna. “So. You are free to make your own decision?”
“The boy is young and not tutored in intrigue. What he says is true except possibly the misreading of Leeth’s role.”
"Continue." If he looked down his nose more often, he'd fall over backward. She wanted to gut him with his own knife. Although she had to pause and take several deep breaths, she managed to control her anger. If he wanted a story, she would give him a good one. "Leeth's work with the Liberi was forced on him when they kidnapped his mother and daughter. I believe they are being held captive to coerce him to recruit warriors to this cause."
Suck on that, you lying bastard.
“So you feel Yasmin and Leeth might be open to our invitation?”
"Possibly. I don't know. It wasn't an option we knew of, and we haven't discussed it." She had learned from Leeth to avoid the truth or not give a real answer. He would be proud.
Vald bared his teeth, portraying nothing close to the warmth of a smile. “You guard your words well, Daughter. Perhaps you need to discuss this carefully with the boy. The woman and Leeth as well.”
Abruptly, Vald returned her and Jamal to the prison cell.
65
Turncoats
Play the Game
Before Finna could speak, Leeth put a finger to his lips. He extended his arms for Knosh, Tood, and Miri to join them. Miri seemed to understand his intent and pulled Jamal and Yasmin into the circle. Once the circle was complete, Leeth knelt and lowered his head as though in prayer and the others followed suit, joining hands.
The damp stone floor they knelt on gave way to a plush rug in a room wrapped in sunlight and warmth. Walls of polished wood panels and mirrors surrounded a dense collection of comfortable chairs and ornate tables. The silver and gold filigree on the lamps and picture frames spoke of wealth. It was a radical change from Vald’s prison. And a snort escaped Finna at the thought of that bastard.
“Where are we?” Jamal asked, stretching his neck trying to see everything at once.
Leeth’s eyes danced. “Someplace else. In making a circle of seven, we had more power than we have as individuals. We had the power to not only reposition far away from Vald's prison but to reposition to another time. Since he and his people cannot time travel, he will be unable to follow us here. I’ll show you where and when we are, but first, there is an important person I want you to meet.”
Extending an arm toward the door, he escorted his fighting unit into another room, one dominated by a great table set for eight. "Time to eat. Are you hungry?"
Jamal laughed. “Always.”
As the fighters filed into the dining hall, however, they hesitated. At the middle of one side of the table sat an old woman dressed in a black dress Finna later learned was from a Victorian age sometime in her future. The woman was more than old. She was ancient. Her wrinkles rode the back of wrinkles, yet her eyes were lively, and at the moment, amused.
Leeth smiled. “This is my very trusted friend. We are safe inside her home, which is shielded from intrusive vizing. She knows all of you, but she wishes to remain anonymous. You may address her simply as Mother. After I relate the recent events to her, she will tell you of our new mission. Meanwhile, sit. Eat.”
Finna, along with others, stared at the woman and for all that she was unknown, she was somehow vaguely familiar. It was unsettling, and not surprisingly, her glance at Leeth garnered no clues.
He took the chair opposite the woman in the middle of the table as if he and she were host and hostess of a dinner party. The others sat on either side. “We’ll have a good meal,” he said, “and I’ll explain what’s going on while we eat, although it won’t be good for your digestion. Through a form of unparalleled treachery, Vald and his Silva cronies cheated their way to victory. They lured our warriors from Castle Star Point’s protection and poisoned them on the battlefield. Close to one-half of our people died in that manner.”
“Half our people?” Finna said. “We were almost among them.”
“We were lucky to—”
“I thought he was in charge of the rules,” Yasmin said.
“That’s why you don’t let the fox in the henhouse.” Leeth paused so his team could assimilate the information before going on, but not before Jamal asked why anyone put a fox in a chicken coop.
Leeth gave a soundless huff of amusement and held up one hand for renewed attention. “Regretfully, there is more. Many others, who should have been safe at Castle Star Point, according to the rules of war, were murdered as they slept. Another three hundred were taken prisoners to be interrogated.”
“What—”
“Were there no guards?”
"No one raised the alarm? Where—"
“What will happen to the prisoners? Will they—”
"I heard all this from the mental communication of our guards while we were confined. Except the seven of us, all the members of our side, who are still alive, have been given some potion that kills their powers. It is as if they were still on the combat planet. They have no abilities."
Once again, chaos broke out, and Leeth let it ride until they were ready to listen.
“What will he do with the prisoners?” Tood asked.
Acknowledging Tood's question, Leeth lifted his chin. He'd hit on the next issue. "If Vald behaves as he's done in the past, he'll interrogate every living Liberi. Those he deems talented may be given the opportunity to take a vow to the Silva. In which case, they will be granted their lives with a limited membership in the Silva world. When, and if, mind you, they prove themselves worthy, they will be absorbed into the Silva population. However, they will always be watched.”
“I would never take that vow,” Yasmin said
“No, Mother,” Jamal protested. “Don’t say that, or think it. If you took the vow, you could lie and wait for a time to escape.”
Leeth clenched his teeth so hard his jaw turned white. “Vald is a diabolical liar and can detect a lie in others. He never allows the slightest victory to an enemy, even for those willing to give up everything. He always wants more. For example, he will test your willingness to join the Silva by requiring you to murder a Liberi who is not willing to accept his dominance. You would not want your mother to be expected to kill one of us, would you?”
“But what if we refuse to murder our friends?” Finna asked. “I could never do that.” She shook her head. “Not ever.”
Mother had been silent throughout the discourse, and Finna wondered why she was there. For the first time, she spoke. "If you refuse, he will sacrifice you to the Maelstrom. Those who do not do as he asks, or rather demands, will be sacrificed to this black hole."
Anger and frustration, once more, erupted around the table and Mother let them vent before rapping her knuckles on the table for attention. When sil
ence fell, the ancient woman stood and smoothed down her black dress before locking eyes with each person present. Although she was beyond old, her quiet voice carried a tensile strength and grim determination. “I understand that none of you could kill family or a fellow cohort. You will not be put in that position. Leeth and I have a plan. Meanwhile, you must return to the prison.”
Leeth nodded and said nothing more on the subject except to assure them their absence from the prison cell would not be noticed. “I’ll return us to the instant of our departure.”
Like that was what they were worried about. Finna had thought this was a permanent escape. “Why must we return? What’s the wisdom in that?” She curled a lip at him. “The plan, Seeker. We would all like to hear the plan.”
Everyone but Tood quieted to listen to what else Mother had to say. He carried on a private conversation with Knosh, which did not go unnoticed.
“While we have all the time in the world to discuss this plan, do not waste my present time with private chit chat,” Mother said in a dry voice.
Suitably chastised, they both mumbled an apology.
“As I was saying,” she frowned at Tood, “Don’t lie or make bold statements on your independence in the presence of the Silva. You will be killed immediately as an example to the others. Worse, Vald would sentence you to die in the Maelstrom. And know this,” she let her words sink in before adding a final warning, “that death is not an easy one. It takes an agonizingly long time.”
66
Mother’s Plan
Deny the Reaper
Apparently satisfied the topic of Vald’s convert-or-die threat could be shelved, Mother moved on. “Our purpose is to set up a training regime that guarantees you will never again be threatened by Vald.”
‹ Prev Next ›