The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1)

by Rebecca P. McCray

  “Wait!” Tip held his arms waist high and patted the air. “We saw something circling through the crack in the cave roof. Azetan thought possibly hunting fanes. Maybe we should eat inside first so we’re less exposed.”

  “Fair point.” Kenrya nodded in agreement. “Let’s grab a quick bite, then keep moving.”

  Eros agreed. Still, had Kenrya just acknowledged Tip? Perhaps she had a change of heart after their talk last night. Stranger things had happened, though he doubted her current positive mood would last.

  After eating, they gathered their packs. They flicked their electric torches to light again and continued through the cave. Eros led the way with Tip right behind him. With each step, his ability to navigate the cave without the torch improved. A breeze rustled his hair. He inhaled the moist, warm air. The end of the cave was near.

  The ground began to grow softer under Eros’s feet, indicating that they must have exited the cave. He took a few more steps, then stopped to assess their surroundings. He was amazed how little the light varied between the forest and the cave; here in the darkest part of the forest, only a small gleam of sunlight pierced the canopy and bounced off the rock wall behind them. The ground beneath the forest canopy showed not an inch of light. The trees growing here stood far more massive than before with twisted, gnarled trunks, like angry warriors poised for battle. The limbs curled from the trunks in a disorderly mass and hung heavily toward the ground, as though ready to snatch an unsuspecting passerby. The roots dipped in and out of the ground, toppling over one another and covering the barren ground.

  Eros sensed an evil in this place. The darkness posed no concern for him, but he feared something else lurked there among the trees. The others had joined him and they all stood staring into the forest. He glanced around, noticing a second path running to his right along the rock wall.

  “Let’s go.” Kenrya declared. “The Graeliths still hunt us. We should use the rock fall to our advantage and stay well ahead of them.”

  She started down the steep path into the forest, when Eros stopped her. “No. We shouldn’t travel that way. There’s a second path here to the right. This is the path we should take.”

  Kenrya looked up at Eros and let her eyes follow the path he wanted to take. “The old men told us to travel into the darkest part of the forest. That path leads us this way.” She pointed into the dark forest. “While the path may not look welcoming, it’s our path to follow.”

  Eros shook his head, as much for himself as for the others. “No. I feel ... evil lingering there, calling to us.” He closed his eyes and grimaced. “I’m telling you, we must turn away from that path and follow the other.”

  Prizene glanced first to Eros, then Kenrya, and suggested, “Maybe the pendant can guide us? I know we’re uncertain of its power, but the men gave it to us for a reason.”

  Kenrya crossed her arms and started tapping her foot impatiently. Eros removed the pendant from his pocket, unwrapped it, and placed it in his palm. As before, the pendant began to glow. He placed the cloth back in his pocket and covered the top of the pendant with his other hand. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the emotions rushing at him. A barrage of images, feelings, and thoughts hurled themselves through his mind. He tried to understand them, but he only sensed a jumbled mass, which confused him. Then he tried a different strategy. He concentrated on the path running along the rock wall and almost immediately, he sensed an irresistible force pulling him in that direction. Next he focused on the dark forest and he felt crushed under the force of danger that raced through his mind. He quickly opened his eyes and dropped the pendant on the ground. His breathing was rapid, his brow wet with sweat. He removed the cloth from his pocket with shaking hands and carefully collected the pendant, storing it once again safe from harm.

  *******

  Hail, the mighty Eros! Kenrya stood scornfully with hands on her hips. She was growing weary of entertaining him, accommodating his every whim. And what words of wisdom would he now share, to which the group would bow? Finally she prodded, “Well?”

  Eros’s eyes held a glint of fear the others had not yet witnessed before. “The forest is treacherous. We must take the second path.”

  Naturally, he would use the pendant to sway the others. Why he chose this moment to ignore the old men baffled her, but this was ridiculous. She’d had enough! Kenrya walked back up to the rock ledge and stood directly in front of Eros. “The mighty Eros has spoken, but his words convey only his own weaknesses and fears. The old men told us to go into the darkest part of the forest and that lies ahead of us!” She threw her arm out in the direction of the forest. “Take the second path, if you will, but I won’t be led by your fear.” She turned on her heel and started back down the slope toward the forest. She looked back at Azetan, knowing he was the greatest asset of the three remaining. “Will you follow the easy path as well?”

  Azetan looked toward the forest and then back at Eros. He hiked his pack securely on his back and slowly followed Kenrya down the path leading into the forest. She glanced at the other two, raising her eyebrows indicating they could join. Then she turned with confidence and strode into the forest with Azetan at her back.

  Eros sighed and turned to face Prizene and Tip. “You have the right to make your own choice. Will you travel with me or with them?”

  Tip swallowed hard as he thought about entering the forbidding forest. For the most part, he thought Eros had made the far wiser decision. He glanced at Prizene, who seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Tip replied, “I’m with you, Eros. While I don’t possess the ability to sense danger, the forest frightens me. I prefer the second path.”

  Prizene agreed, “I do, as well. I only hope, for the others’ sake, that your feelings are wrong.”

  Eros nodded in agreement. Tip once again took the lead, with Eros in the rear. They began picking their way along the path that hung close to the rock wall.

  Chapter 57

  Anthony ensured Kalangia was secure in the cage and left the hotel room, wandering through town until he found the work-assignment station. Once the job coordinator learned Anthony was a pilot, he was quickly assigned to the crew managing the dozens of air transports that were arriving daily. Fortunately, there were large parcels of barren land east of town to accommodate the vessels, but hands were needed to monitor traffic and ensure no damage to any ships.

  After receiving further instructions, Anthony started walking toward the shipyard. He had visited Banston many times in the past, but always enjoyed viewing the fascinating paintings on each door. As he wound his way through town, he whistled and paused to wish everyone a good morning. Several Plintes remembered him from his previous visits and greeted him warmly. Others politely returned his well wishes and thanked him for his support.

  He crossed the edge of town and continued past a large field. Usually, the Plintes used the field for sparring matches and other sports activities. Apparently, it had now been claimed as the location for group meals and events for the funeral. Given its proximity to town and its barren flatness, it was a suitable venue. The only drawback was the shattered target pieces that littered the space.

  As various individuals slowly walked through the field, Anthony stopped to watch. What were they doing? One person bent down and picked something up, placing it in a pouch. Of course, Anthony nodded to himself, they were clearing the field — very sensible. He started to walk again when something else caught his eye. A man squatting farther out in the field now stood and stretched. Anthony rubbed his eyes, for surely he was mistaken. He strained for a clearer view. Maybe it was because he desired the outcome, but he was almost certain the man was Liput. He rubbed his chin and smiled. Isabelle would be most pleased if he had already located one of the marked one’s relatives. After his shift, he would take a detour back through this field and see if his hunch was correct.

  He slapped his leg and walked toward the vessels with a new spring in his step. He selected one of his favorite tunes and whistle
d merrily as he went.

  Chapter 58

  Tren and Jurf worked all morning in the field southeast of Banston, carrying rocks and litter to a designated area on the edge of the village. They scoured the field for broken pieces of clay, blades without handles, and other objects used by the Plintes in training. A leather container was provided to collect these items, which the workers in the village would later claim to melt and craft into new weapons and targets.

  At midday, Tren and Jurf joined the other workers on their team to collect food and pots of water. The group then dispersed across the field to eat and rest for an hour. Tren steered Jurf to the far side of the field, away from town and the nearest group of workers. He scanned the area before they sat down to eat to ensure no one was nearby.

  As Jurf began stuffing food into his mouth, Tren abruptly started the conversation. “Yesterday on the transport, I don’t believe you told me everything.”

  Jurf froze, his mouth still full, and stared guiltily at Tren.

  Tren nodded and raised his eyebrows. “You see, Jurf, I’m a father. I have three sons, three clever sons. You learn quickly how to tell the truth from a lie. I wondered whether I was reading you correctly, but based on your current expression, I know you were dishonest with me.” He paused and watched Jurf for a moment.

  Jurf swallowed hard and looked at the ground.

  Tren wasn’t certain exactly what Jurf knew. Gentle prodding would be the kindest tactic, but there may not be much time before they were interrupted. A broad question should do the trick. “Tell me the rest of the story.”

  Jurf stared at his plate while contemplating what to say. After a few minutes, he began tentatively. “You’re right. I don’t remember meeting a Liput last fall. I ... I was in the marketplace a few days ago when a Liput and a Krystic came running through the stalls. The Graeliths were chasing them. I had never seen either species, so I asked one of the vendors and he told me you can tell Liputs because of the colored tips on their hair and the Krystics by the golden designs on their forehead. He warned me against telling others what I had witnessed, which made me hesitant to admit it, even to another Liput.” He shrugged dismissively, picked up his sandwich, and took another bite.

  Tren considered this information. “Tell me more about the Liput. What was he wearing? Was he injured?”

  “It happened so quickly. I think he wore brown clothes, but that’s all I remember. He ran fast, so if he had been injured, it must have been minor.”

  Tears welled in Tren’s eyes. “Thank you, Jurf, for telling me the truth. You heard me say that each of my three sons had been marked. No other Liput has ever been marked. My oldest son survived only two days. We never heard about our second son. We hope he’s still alive. Our third son’s sixteenth birthday passed just six days ago and my brother-in-law confirmed he left town because he bore the mark. The timing is right, so you must have seen him. At least, you’ve confirmed he arrived in the city. We knew a Liput was wanted for murder and we hoped above anything it was Tip.” He cleared his throat. “Granted, murder is a horrible accusation, but at least he’s alive … or was alive.” He looked at Jurf with a pained smile. “At least you have given us hope.” He placed his hand momentarily on Jurf’s leg before returning his hand to his own lap.

  *******

  They finished their food and were resting. Jurf felt miserable. Tren was Tip’s father and he lied to the man. His food turned uneasily in his stomach. Jurf swallowed hard and tried to steady his voice. “I’m sorry, Tren. I lied to you again.”

  Tren turned his eyes to Jurf’s with eyebrows raised.

  Jurf swallowed again and continued, “You see, I wasn’t in the marketplace the day Tip hurried through it. I was at my job, working in a diner. A Krystic happened to be eating there that day” — Jurf paused and smiled as he thought about Prizene — “and I happened to meet her again the next night in my neighborhood. Sometimes I can’t sleep and I just happened to see them outside my bedroom window. We’re not supposed to peek out the windows at night, but sometimes I do anyway. She traveled with four others, all marked.” Jurf glanced at Tren to see the man was intently hanging on his every word. “One of the five marked ones was your son, Tip.”

  The tears welled up in Tren’s eyes again and he encouraged Jurf to continue. “Go on.”

  Jurf sighed with relief and felt a weight lifting off his chest. He had avoided even telling his mother the whole story, as he feared for her safety if she knew. The story poured out of him: how he had helped the others escape to the western part of the city and leaving them at the new barrier the Tyrnotts had put up at the opening of the city wall. He told Tren about the others who shared the journey with Tip and how Tip’s injuries were nearly healed by the time Jurf had left their company. As Jurf finished the tale, Tren leaned over and gave him a grateful hug.

  He simply said, “Thank you.”

  “Quite a tale,” they heard a voice mutter behind them.

  Telling the whole story had been such a relief that Jurf had failed to notice a Human man had crept up behind them. He was startled and jumped up, as did Tren, though he was uncertain what to do. He looked at Tren, who appeared to be as shocked as he. The Human held out his hands to put them at ease.

  “Be calm. You have no reason to fear me. My name is Anthony from the Forest of Kullac. While you should have been more cautious of your surroundings, I can assure you no one else heard you.” He looked from Tren to Jurf, giving them an assuring smile. “I saw you this morning on my way to the transports and was hoping to speak with you both. You must be Tip’s father.” He held out his hand to Tren who took it, then turned to Jurf and patted him on the back. “And you must be the Hurfen we heard about.”

  “Maybe,” Jurf stammered. He was confused and really nervous. What did this man know about him?

  Anthony rambled on, “I’m here with a friend named Isabelle. Her son is Eros.” He watched Jurf closely as he made the last statement.

  “I met Eros,” Jurf replied excitedly. “He was the Human in the group of marked ones,” he explained to them both.

  Delight lifted Tren’s face and he threw his arms around Anthony, as well. Anthony appeared surprised at first, but then he reached up and patted Tren on the back. As Tren pulled away, he said in a low voice, “I would like to meet this Isabelle.”

  Anthony grinned and hooked his thumbs in his pant pockets. “She’s been looking for you and other parents of the marked ones. She has news from Lady Anyamae. We don’t yet know whether the marked ones have reached the training camp, but we do know they were on the right path two days ago. All five were alive and well.”

  Tren clapped his hands together and beamed at the other two. “At least I know one of my sons may survive. I have hope.”

  Anthony suggested they meet at his and Isabelle’s room prior to the dinner gathering that evening. “Perhaps we’ll hear more news by then.”

  Jurf agreed to the plan, as did Tren, and watched as Anthony left them, meandering across the field. What a great day it was turning out to be. He glanced at Tren, who had spied some scraps of clay and started back to work with a burst of enthusiasm.

  Tren treated him well. His own father had died so many years before that he enjoyed Tren’s presence. Yet, he had to remember his main goal — to find the undergrounders. Maybe Anthony or this Isabelle would have more news when he saw them that evening. He stooped to pick up yet another metal blade. He hoped he could find the right time to ask.

  Chapter 59

  Natal rested his hands atop the edge of the low outer wall of the bell tower as he stared across the city. The setting sun painted a cascade of colors across the sky. He closed his eyes and drew in a long, deep breath, enjoying this rare moment of peace.

  He was standing at the top of the tower, which was attached to an old temple the Tyrnotts now occupied as part of their dwellings. The temple interior was an ideal space for dispensing orders to the men. Only one key to the bell tower existed and Natal possessed th
at key. The other Tyrnotts never questioned the locked door and Nord never concerned himself with such trivial matters. For Natal, though, the tower provided a respite, a haven in the midst of the city where he could reflect on the day’s events and gather his thoughts.

  The tower loomed over all the surrounding buildings and afforded him a clear view of the palace and the highest mountain peaks to the north. His eyes traced the mountain range that wrapped around the northwest side of the city and travelled southwest, decreasing in height farther south. His eyes stopped on the mid-sized peaks a few days west of the city. As yet, they had received no news from Gornith. No news of the marked ones. Was one of the marked Isabelle’s son? The timing was right.

  They kept an eye on Isabelle after she was dismissed by Anyamae. Given her father’s reputation as a respected leader and powerful fighter, Nord had frequently expressed concerns about her ability to rally the outbounders. However, Natal found her son of even greater concern. He had firmly believed the boy would be marked and had enlisted help in monitoring the pair. One of their contacts reported that the boy’s sixteenth birthday was nearing and Natal dispatched Graeliths to find the boy and be ready to capture him should the mark appear. He should have sent Tyrnotts with them. While the Graeliths would be drawn to the mark, it obviously hadn’t been enough given their inability to identify small physical traits. The boy had escaped. He rubbed his temples, then stretched the tight muscles stiffening his neck. As there was a Human boy in this group of five marked ones that Gornith pursued, one with strong fighting skills, they had missed their chance. Two Humans were unlikely to be marked in a single month — the one in this group was likely Isabelle’s son. The group was probably nearing the training camp, which was frustrating, as they would then be protected. Natal had once requested time in the mountains to hunt for the training camp. Nord had balked at the idea, though Natal failed to understand why. He shook his head in frustration.