Changing of the Glads

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Changing of the Glads Page 6

by Joy Spraycar


  Zalphia cringed, imagining what they would be doing to the inside of his hand.

  “I knew how it would affect me.” He opened his fist and let the crushed bits fall to the ground, then his eyes met hers. They darkened, and his brow lowered. “But I would do anything to rescue you from the horrors of the arena.”

  Inhaling slowly, Zalphia’s chest shuddered and shook as she released the air. “I... uh.”

  Did he know just what Platy had put her through all those years ago? She hoped that at least that remained hidden. She set her jaw. He didn’t need to know what she suffered at the hands of her trainer. But inside the arena, there she seldom felt as he had.

  “I’ve never lost a match. No, I don’t see that my life has been all that horrible.”

  “Of course.” His head bobbed. “You would not consider it so as you have nothing to compare it to. No normal life with a family.”

  “I had parents.” Defense seemed the best way to show him she hadn’t lost as much as he assumed.

  “Living as a small child amidst a family hardly constitutes a normal life. Do you even remember it?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Of course you don’t.”

  But she did. She remembered vividly the day her mother delivered her into Platy’s hands. For months after Platy’s cruelty, she pictured the look on her mother’s face. The declarations of love as tears were spilled into her hair. She’d never forget how she pulled away and stood by the trainer, ignoring the last piece of caring she would ever feel. Did Max know how many times she wished she could go back? Do it all again? She would have thrown her arms about her mother’s neck and let her know that she, too, was loved.

  “All you remember is the Glad way of life. But if I could let you peek into the life we had before, you would do anything to get back there.”

  The babbling brook and droopy tree drove the pained separation of her and her mother from her thoughts. She closed her eyes, remembering all he had shown her before their bout and the subsequent annihilation of a whole arena full of humankind. If that had been a glimpse of the past, something the two of them had experienced together, she wished to go back. She wanted that, that and more of touching lips and feeling his warm bare skin pressed against hers. But how could they have that? The Arena Board would never stop hunting them.

  “Oh, Zalphia, it is so wonderful there. Peaceful, calm, and beautiful. The place I took you to in your mind, it was our special spot. And there was the music you played.”

  Zalphia’s eyes flew open. “What? Music? What is that?”

  “You’ve heard it before. You know the thing Platy put on that machine?”

  He’d seen that? How?

  “Yes, that is music. And you used to play it.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

  A slight smile tipped his lip, and he seemed to be looking somewhere far away. “Your favorite, the cello. You played an instrument called the cello.”

  A lump formed behind her tongue, making breathing difficult and stealing her voice for a moment before she managed to swallow the obstruction. Shudders shook her jaw. “The music... Platy... I could make that?”

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, lending strength and warmth to the chill that overtook her.

  “You did.” He closed his eyes and pulled her against his chest. “Be certain, you were much better than anything Platy played for you here. What you did was... well... heavenly. That is what it was. You brought tears to my eyes.”

  She leaned against his strong arm and let her eyelids slide closed, hearing the soft, deep melodies inside her head. Need filled her. She longed to hear the music again. No, she longed to make it. But it seemed improbable – impossible even – but everything Max told her up till now rang true. In her chest it burned, the way she felt when she first heard the rich sounds, the way she had been instinctively drawn to it like it was a part of her. Something missing in her life that gave it deeper meaning. Something that kept her alive and free.

  “Yes. You can feel the truth of it, can you not?”

  Opening her eyes, she nodded. “Max, how come you can remember, but I can’t?”

  I believe that training from the arena has wiped your early memories away. They sought to make you a fighter. That is what you have become, and a very good one at that. However, using mind powers to win fights... well, it is not right. Did you never feel guilty for using their vulnerabilities against them?”

  Zalphia ran her hand over her eyes, and then covered her mouth with it. It dropped to her lap, and her head fell to her chest. When he said it like that, she couldn’t help but feel a stab of pain in her chest. She always knew it wasn’t right to feed on opponents’ weaknesses, and then use those against them inside the arena. But that was her training. Use everything at her disposal to win. Platy secured early on that Zalphia would do everything she was taught. Guilt had to be set aside in order to win.

  “Do not be upset. I am not judging you for your actions.” He pulled back and placed a finger beneath her jaw, bringing her face up so their eyes met. “I saw that you used all you had in order to win. You were indoctrinated by Platy and the arena officials. They knew exactly what they were doing.”

  “I assumed that someday I’d meet others with those abilities. But I never did, not until you.”

  “Only those of us from Selestia have the ability.”

  “Only the two of us can do that?”

  He nodded. “Only those sent from Selestia to correct the courses upset have the ability and the permission to do so. You see, we are sent to change the minds of humankind, and that way, we can steer them in the right direction.”

  The idea of using her powers to help instead of incapacitate caused her mind to reel. “You mean, I’m supposed to make others choose differently?”

  “Have you not done it before? Used other’s minds to make the fight turn to your advantage?”

  She nodded. “Of course, you’re right. But I usually used what they wanted against them. I used their fears or their ambitions.”

  “Correct.” He took her hands in his. “We do exactly that. Use their fears and ambitions, but we show them a better way to use them, a way that will benefit all humankind, not just one. With this power, you and I will turn these children back to the correct way, and the barbarism will end.”

  “I don’t understand. What are they supposed to be?”

  Max dropped her hands and sprang to his feet. He shouldered his pack and reached out to help Zalphia up. “We will discuss all of this another time. We must keep moving. The Kilapon Mountains must be reached before sunset or the trackers will be upon us.” He strode off.

  The name he used struck something deep within her. A familiar ring to the word, but try as she might, Zalphia couldn’t place it.

  “Kilapon?” she asked, running to catch up. “That sounds so familiar, but I can’t remember why.”

  He turned to her with that lopsided smile. “That is where our home resides, yours and mine. We were to meet there when you came of age. But by that time, you were already fighting in the arena. That is when I entered Glad training.”

  All of the strangeness settled behind her eyes, blending with the ever-increasing brightness of the sun. Zalphia squinted and struggled to match Max’s pace. Thoughts tumbled inside her skull, causing it to pound heavy thumps like the closing of cage doors over and over, shaking and jarring her brain. He spoke of things she’d never heard of. Or had she? They seemed familiar, but they couldn’t be. Could they? The more she thought, the louder the clangs got, and the more pain they caused.

  Fighting against the blinding light, and the banging and pain, became harder and harder. Max forged ahead while her footsteps slowed and faltered until, at last, it became all she could do to take one tortured step at a time.

  Max faded in the distance. She was sure he was worried about reaching this Kilapon place before the sun sank. Vile liquid bubbled up in her throat, burning it. She swallowed hard and leaned against the
bumpy bark of the nearest tree. The ground shifted beneath her. One leg shot out to catch the sudden change, but her senses tricked her, and she clattered to the ground.

  Now the steady drum of continuous slamming gates filled every inch of her skull as she lay in the poking needles. She lifted her hand in an effort to signal Max and bring him back. The sudden movement shot sour liquid into her mouth, and she barely managed to turn her head as it bubbled out and ran down the side of her face. No strength left to call out. No way to fight the pain or signal her position to Max.

  Now, even her eyes refused to open. The bile rose again and bubbled down the side of her face while she lay helpless to do anything about it. No longer could she lift the boulders that were her arms and legs. Every joint cried out. Even her most trying bout in the arena never affected her like this. Was this what it felt like to die? Would Max even notice she wasn’t with him anymore?

  A finger traced her brow. “Zalphia? What is wrong?”

  Opening her eyes a sliver, she tried to answer, but her stomach rolled and the liquid bubbling out of her mouth was all she could muster.

  “No! No!”

  The sound of his voice tore at her pounding head, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to raise her hand and halt his words, but it barely cleared the layer of needles before dropping back down.

  Kill me now. Put me out of this misery.

  This was more than she could endure. If he cared at all for her, he’d end it.

  Max slipped an arm beneath her neck and lifted her head. “Zalphia, please, try to open your eyes. Look at me. I know that it hurts, but I need to see your eyes.”

  She clenched her teeth, stuffed the pain back the best she could, and managed to make her eyelids flutter. Light shot a bolt four times stronger than the lightning stick straight into her brain, and a shriek ripped from her throat.

  “No, it cannot be. Oh, dear Selestia. Platy chipped you.”

  His words ripped through her, pulling muscle from bone and arching her back. Another scream echoed through the trees.

  As Max laid her back down, the simple poke of the needles against her legs stole her attention. How could she feel that when pain more intense than anything she’d ever suffered serrated every nerve?

  “Zalphia... can you hear me?”

  She managed a subtle nod, but the movement sent a million knifes cutting through everything from her eyes to the back of her head.

  “I must remove the chip, do you understand?”

  Stop talking. Stop the pain.

  She didn’t care what he did now. If only he would quit adding more to what she already bore.

  “I have no painkillers. Nothing to deaden the area in which I need to work.”

  She managed to brush a finger against his knee. Whatever this chip was, she wished he’d hurry and get it out.

  “Pleaaaseee.” The sound of her voice sent shock waves rolling over every inch of her body.

  Max entered her mind. He tried to lead her to their spot with the tree and the tinkling water, but he faded before she could grab his hand.

  Hold on to my voice. Listen to the music.

  He sang to her.

  More pain joined what was going on inside as she felt Max working just above her hairline.

  A flap of skin folded over her aching eyes, turning the red she was seeing through her closed eyelids to deep ebony. Everything faded when she felt his blade sawing into her skull.

  ***

  Soft cello music dimmed as Zalphia came back to consciousness. She floated on a feathery cloud, and a light breeze cooled her fevered skin. Darkness met her eyes when they opened. No longer did the tall trees reach for the sky. Instead, they grew sideways, but no branches, leaves, or green graced the trunks. Grass grew overhead, not on the ground where it belonged. It reminded her of a cage. However, there were no bars covering the way to the outside. A solid wall of wood surrounded her and the only opening, which sat on the wall opposite where she lay, was covered with more wood.

  What was this place? Somehow it seemed familiar, but try as she might, she couldn’t place why or what to call it. She slid her hands over the material covering her. It felt like water but solid and smooth. Her head rested on another type of cloud. One so soft she seemed to float. Reaching up to her hairline, she felt a raised ridge. The pounding was gone, replaced by a gentle, calm feeling.

  Max. His mind remained inside hers, holding her tenderly. His strength flowed into her body.

  She sucked in a quick breath. This feeling – she’d felt it before when she had been hurt during her first match in the arena.

  The door opened, and Max entered, carrying a stick with flame on the end, which he placed in a holder on the wall. “Zalphia, you’re awake. Thank goodness.” He pulled a chair close and sat.

  She reached for his hand. “Max, what happened?”

  He took her outstretched fingers between his palms. “The Glad trainer put a tiny grain inside your head, tucked into your brain.” He pointed to his head. “In the gray matter. That way, if you moved too far away from her, your brain... well, you would die.”

  “Platy would never kill me. I’ve never done anything to try and leave. Besides, she adored me and the winning I did.”

  “That maybe so, but the Glad arena is harsh. Do you not know that trainers have been killed and their Glads stolen? Platy made sure that would never happen. Everyone must be aware because no one tried to steal you. I have been stolen seven times since I began to fight.” His shoulders slumped, and his eyes darkened. “I am sorry. I should have recognized it would be so.” He brushed her cheek with his finger.

  Closing her eyes, she let his presence seep into every inch of her. When she opened them again, she smiled. “You’re so good to me. How do you know about the tricks and secrets of the arena?”

  “Simeon taught me all he thought I needed to know, but I never dreamed I might have to do something like this out here in the wilderness. And cutting you the way I did, I feared I would be the one to kill you.”

  “How could you kill me? You were saving me from – what did you call it?”

  “A chip. You could not understand. I had to open up your head and take it out. A very delicate procedure to be performed with only just a knife. It was necessary to use the poison from the sticks on you, and for that, I am sorry.”

  “I don’t remember anything but the pain. Thank you. You saved me. Again.”

  “You still have no understanding about us, but you will. Are you hungry?”

  “How long have I been asleep? And where are we?”

  “You have been unconscious for three days. For all that time, I tried to heal you, but it has been slow. I was afraid I went too far into your brain and left you unresponsive. You have no idea how glad I am to see your eyes open.”

  She reached up to the raised ridge where he had cut into her head. “How’d you do all this?”

  “That is not important. What is important is that you are alive and awake. Now, are you hungry?”

  “No.” She glanced again at her surroundings. “This place is strange. What is it?”

  “It is called a cabin, a hunter’s cabin.”

  “Cabin?”

  He nodded. “A place the hunters stay while searching for game. After securing meat, they return to their homes.”

  “Hunters?”

  “There is so much to teach you. But for now, you need your rest.” He placed a hand against her cheek. He knew every part of her, and every part of her reacted to even the slightest touch.

  “Max, stay here with me.”

  He scooped her into his arms, sat, and rested her in his lap.

  Her limbs sagged and felt like the lead weights she used during training. Resting her head against his bare chest, she listened to the slow rhythm of his heart. Warmth flowed through her like sunshine rising over the mountains back home as day began.

  He pressed his lips to her hair.

  The simple gesture sent shivers racing up her spine. S
he wished for more than a simple kiss and being held in his massive arms. More than the closeness of his skin or the mere touch of his hand. She wanted something to curb an appetite that had nothing to do with hunger, yet growled for relief below her stomach.

  “Not yet, my love. You must heal.”

  “What?” She pulled away from the warmth of his skin and looked into his eyes.

  “You want to become one with me, but you are not well enough. There will be time. He put his hand on her cheek and gently pressed her head back against his chest. “Soon. Very soon. I have not the will to resist for long when it comes to you. As soon as you are well enough, I promise, we will be one.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about, becoming one, but sensed it would be wonderful. For now, she would stay content to be held. To feel him close and know this special being was hers. He knew so many things and was content to just hold her when he wanted something she only had an inkling existed. Something she longed for with every fiber of her being, although she had no idea what it entailed. She closed her eyes and wondered, then drifted off.

  CHAPTER 7

  The twittering of birds called to Zalphia’s foggy mind and teased her eyes open. Sunlight seeped through the strange sideways trees. She tried to lift her head. Crap, it was heavy. She might as well be trying to lift someone twice her size instead of simply rising into a sitting position like she did every other morning. Letting her head fall back, she was grateful for the feathery cloud beneath it. Wouldn’t want to break things with her rock-like head.

  “Max?”

  The sound of a raspy whisper barely slipped past her cracked lips.

  Coming, Zalphia. Be patient, I will be there shortly.

  Gathering what strength she could muster, she once again fought to raise the dense weight which had become her head. Air barely sifted between her hair and the cushiony surface of the pillow before the world tilted sharply to the right and spun away. Closing her eyes, she once again relaxed and let her head plop down. Had removing a chip, as Max called it, also taken away her ability to remain upright? She wouldn’t be able to fight if the trackers showed up here. Heck, she doubted she could do anything but lie here and watch them kill Max and her or let them haul her away to be crushed beneath the stones. Would she ever recover enough for them to flee?

 

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