Change of Darkness

by Jacinta Jade

  And then there was Siray’s shoulder. She tried to climb the ladder mostly using her legs to propel her upwards, but every reach and pull of her arms strained the newly repaired outer layers of the muscle and made the area around the bone ache. So she climbed steadily and evenly, carefully controlling her face and movements so that no one would guess at her hurt. She couldn’t let them know that they had an advantage over her before the fight had even begun.

  As Siray climbed, she heard the sounds of many boots approaching and recognised the steps as those of the other captives, lining up as per the normal morning routine. This time, she knew, there would be at least nine fewer pairs of boots. And even though Siray hadn’t really gotten to know Annbov that well, the female had been part of Wexner’s unit, even if only for a short time.

  The sounds of the many hurrying steps had stopped, and as Siray covered the last lengths of the rope ladder, she heard Raque speak to her and Baindan from above and behind.

  ‘It seems that an exciting night has passed,’ Raque was saying loudly for all to hear, ‘with several of your number attempting an escape.’

  Siray had almost reached the edge of the pit.

  ‘We did, of course, catch them, as you can see.’

  Her heart gave a quick leap at the captain’s words. Maybe her friends were still alive—maybe they had been captured, but Raque was going to punish them in some other, no doubt cruel, way. It would be terrible, but she would be there for her friends at the end.

  Siray’s hope flared as she pulled herself quickly over the edge of the pit, new energy helping her to roll clear of both the edge and the ladder, before kneeling up and looking around her.

  Her heart dropped even faster than it had risen as she spied nine body bags laid out before the rows of captives. Seeing the line of lumpy bags containing her friends spread out not more than a few steps away was far worse than anything Siray could have pictured.

  She didn’t even try to get to her feet, although it wasn’t exhaustion that kept her kneeling down in the dirt. Behind her, she heard Baindan emerge from the hole and stop just behind her and to one side. He, too, must have spotted the bags. She couldn’t tear her eyes from them, and couldn’t bear to look at the faces of the other captives, whether they were filled with pity, scorn, or hopelessness.

  ‘And it seems that we also had some excitement in the pit during the night, with one pair emerging as victors.’ Raque’s voice had grown louder still, and some part of Siray’s mind recognised that the captain must be drawing closer.

  Perfect, she thought. She shifted the angle of her chin slightly, watching his feet approach, and tensed, preparing herself to spring. He stopped close by, his next words for her and Baindan.

  ‘I’m sure Master Herrin will be pleased to see the pair of you back in training this morning. No doubt he will have his own special reward for your rebelliousness yesterday.’

  Siray’s brows shifted, just the tiniest bit, and she halted the lean she had begun in Raque’s direction. She didn’t understand. The captain wasn’t calling for her and Baindan’s immediate execution but instead seemed to be saying they would rejoin the others for training. Was this a special privilege, given that the two of them had proved themselves in the pit? Maybe it was because the captives’ numbers had to be under fifty by now, and the Faction wanted to keep a certain amount.

  Whatever the reason, Siray let her shoulders drop slowly from their set position and stood carefully. If they were going to let her and Baindan rejoin the other captives, put them with another unit, then her attack upon Raque could wait. At least until she was better prepared.

  The captain pointed impatiently towards the rows of waiting captives. ‘I suggest you fall into formation quickly,’ he growled.

  Another soldier yelled out a command, and the first row of captives began to march off. Siray hurried with Baindan towards the group, heading towards their usual places, unable to think of what else to do, and kept her eyes on the ground until she arrived at the edge of the group, not wishing to see the empty spaces she knew would be there, and which would match the swelling emptiness inside her.

  Yet after brushing past one person, she was forced to look up when someone else said gently, ‘Going to walk through me, are you?’

  Siray’s gaze shot upwards, and the first thing her eyes saw was the kind face of Genlie, whose eyes were shining brightly at her, even though her face was carefully controlled.

  Siray almost froze in stunned relief, and she felt her heart throb painfully in her chest. She staggered forwards, altering her direction just slightly, both exhaustion and happiness making her steps ungainly. As she moved past Genlie’s tall form to take her place, they clasped hands quickly, for just an instant. A sob rose in Siray’s throat, and she fought it back down. Genlie was real. Genlie was alive.

  As Siray moved past Kovi into one of the two gaps in the row, her stare flicked to a face with golden eyes.

  Zale’s eyes were lit with a burning fire that seemed to devour her face hungrily, and as glad as she was to see him safe, Siray found herself unable to hold his gaze, and she felt a new sense of ease once she had turned around.

  Then another voice whispered to her. ‘Took you two long enough.’

  Siray glanced to the side and saw Tamot, his eyes shadowed but reassured, and as Baindan brushed past her, she closed her eyes for just an instant, sending a mental thankyou into the purple sky above.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  A FAMILIAR MARCH through one door and into a corridor. Down its length and through the next door. Out onto the gleaming sands of the arena. Siray barely saw any of it, too caught up in a mixture of exhaustion, relief, and happiness. Even the events of the previous night, even knowing what they might face in the days to come, could not dampen her spirit. If they had not been in this place, she felt like she might have shone from the elation emanating from her very core. As it was, she kept herself under tight control, her expression that of a captive facing down another gruelling training session.

  But her eyes … those she could not control. They wandered of their own accord, darting to Genlie and Kovi in front of her and to Tamot beside her. Had she dared, she would have turned and let her eyes feast on the faces of her other friends. Wexner, Kinna, Zale, and, of course, Baindan. Indeed, she could almost feel his own happiness emanating from behind her, like the warmth of a fire.

  Even with her exhaustion, Siray felt like the eight of them could do anything now that they were all back together. Nine, if you included Annbov. She yearned to stop and talk with all of them, tell them what had happened, learn what she and Baindan had missed and if they had thought about trying to escape last night, but she controlled the urge, knowing that it was only a matter of time until they would be together and away from the eyes of the guards.

  And after discovering her friends were very much not dead, Siray felt like time was something she could deal with.

  Out on the sands stood a familiar lone figure—just a silhouette at this distance but instantly recognisable from his stance. Herrin. Siray almost laughed out loud. She had challenged him and survived. She had been thrown into the pit and had survived. She would survive this place.

  She lifted her head as the captives made their way across the sand in their file, the first group stopping at the usual distance from the training master and the next row moving up beside them.

  Once they were all in place, the training master turned to them, his eyes sweeping across the group quickly. As usual, Siray felt the instant that glance lighted upon her and perceived the moment it had moved on. She quickly used the moment to re-braid her hair.

  ‘I see that, while some of you have returned, some of you have not.’ Herrin’s voice was calm and cold, as if he was merely stating an observation, like that of someone remarking about how the weather might affect their manner of dress for the day. ‘As we are now approaching the final number, we will shortly begin new exercises in groups.’

  Siray’s brows narrowe
d just slightly. Final number? What did he mean by that? Was this something the others had learned about yesterday? She tried to come up with answers, but her mind, alert all night and having run the gambit of emotions today, was exhausted. No ideas presented themselves.

  ‘But not today,’ Herrin announced more loudly, just as two guards marched past the edges of the group to take up positions a step behind the training master.

  Siray felt the group of captives shift around her. Something was different. The others, clearly, hadn’t expected this. Her eyes zeroed in on the shift in Herrin’s stance—the slight turn of a foot, as if he was looking towards something … or someone.

  ‘Today, there will be a different kind of exercise,’ the training master continued, waving a hand.

  Footsteps, light on the sand, sounded from behind, and Siray wondered what Herrin had planned for them.

  Until she heard a grunt from behind her, and then a thump, and she spun.

  Two soldiers had already grabbed Zale, dragging him backwards, and two more were approaching Baindan. Siray’s eyes widened, but Baindan was already turning, sensing the threat.

  When he saw the soldiers, instead of preparing to fight back like she thought he might, his head whipped back around to face her, his eyes flaring as they screamed at her to run.

  Siray wheeled her head back around, preparing to make a break of it past Herrin, but she froze when she saw more soldiers already holding Kovi and Genlie.

  Kovi’s lean form was tensed, like an animal preparing to spring but waiting for the right moment.

  Genlie, however, was struggling hard against the grips that held her, her blonde hair flying as her body strained this way and that.

  But the soldiers that held them stood firm and unyielding.

  Siray’s breath was rapid as she watched Baindan and Zale being half dragged, half shoved out into the space before the captives to join Kovi and Genlie. Which left her standing in the middle of the group of captives, empty space ahead and behind. She already knew there was no point in panicking or running. This she could tell from the deliberate way in which her friends had been targeted, and why she had been left standing alone.

  There was only one explanation she could think of—that Herrin wanted revenge for her attack upon him the previous day. She shifted her body to face him, her chin raised, silent as they matched gazes.

  ‘Step forwards, Siray.’

  Her spine stiffened. Herrin had never addressed any of them by name before, but with little choice, she obediently began walking forwards. She passed Tamot and, noticing him tensing, gave the barest shake of her head without looking at him. Then she turned her head slightly farther as she passed Wexner, who dipped his chin minutely at her. That gesture told her that, unlike Tamot, Wexner’s experience had already led him to the same conclusion she had reached an instant before—that there was no point in fighting back until they knew where the danger really lay. The experienced male’s calculating eyes informed her he would be ready to move as soon as she gave the signal.

  When Siray had emerged from the ranks of captives, Herrin nodded to the guards, and they began dragging her friends away from the group towards the far end of the arena.

  Clenching her fists while she watched the distance between her and her friends grow, Siray growled at Herrin without looking at him, ‘What is this?’

  The training master was silent long enough that Siray eventually turned her face to him. She had expected to see anger in his eyes and stance—anger, and perhaps smugness, now that he was getting his revenge.

  Instead, the same coldly calm but penetrating eyes took her in. And Siray saw something in those eyes that she had not expected to see.

  Curiosity.

  She blinked, surprised. This was probably the first time Herrin had actually revealed an emotion. Not in the set of his face, of course—he was too much of a warrior to betray his intent that way—but it was there, written in his eyes.

  Siray’s nerves grew tighter. Anything that interested Herrin couldn’t be a good thing.

  The master trainer didn’t answer her question but kept staring at her for a moment longer, the interest remaining in his gaze as his blue-grey eyes swept her from head to foot and back again. It wasn’t the regard of a male taking in the object of his adoration, nor the stare of a cruel overseer assessing his prey. And it wasn’t the look of one opponent sizing up another. It was the scrutiny of someone wondering what they had missed. As if … Herrin thought that there was something more to see.

  Siray felt the muscles in her back stiffen, the remaining scars from the lashing that first day tightening across her skin. Something wasn’t right …

  Then Master Herrin leaned in close to her—close enough that it took a large amount of Siray’s control not to flinch or step away from that body that could deliver death with such ease. By sheer force of will, she remained standing where she was, her fists still clenched tightly together, otherwise showing no other outward sign of her agitation.

  ‘It seems that you are of great interest to someone … Siray.’ Herrin’s deep voice drawled out her name as if they both shared some secret, and they were so close that Siray could see his intense eyes clearly.

  So she didn’t miss it when his eyes flicked upwards, staring briefly at a point behind and above her.

  After staring at Herrin a moment longer, wary of a trick, Siray turned slowly to look where the training master had indicated. Levels above the floor of the arena, she identified the balcony that extended out, a feature of the space that she had noted for the sole reason that the arena had so few features. The balcony itself was the same colour of the surrounding walls, and its lines blended evenly with the arena’s shape. But it was what was on the balcony itself that held Siray’s attention.

  Three hooded figures stood there, one significantly taller than the others, their shadowed faces turned down to watch her. They were unmoving, the darkness beneath their cowls deep enough that she could see no detail of their faces. Not that removing their hoods would have helped much at this distance. She couldn’t even tell whether the three observers were male or female.

  Siray could, however, feel their eyes on her. Like electricity flowing over her skin.

  She turned dismissively away from those eyes, hoping it would annoy them, and faced Herrin once more. He was still the immediate threat. ‘What do they want?’ she asked carefully.

  The training master tilted his head ever so slightly while continuing to inspect her. ‘They want to see what you can do.’

  Siray frowned at this response, but when fresh yells came from the end of the arena, she turned quickly … and her hands went limp at her sides.

  In the short time she had been conversing with the master trainer, a number of platforms of differing heights had been dragged out onto the sands of the arena from previously invisible doors, and it was in the middle of these platforms that Zale, Baindan, Genlie, and Kovi were being tied to thick posts.

  Siray’s mouth went dry, and her chest rose and fell a little faster as she watched the soldiers securing her friends to the platforms. ‘What I can do?’ she repeated hoarsely back at Herrin.

  ‘Yes,’ came the even reply. ‘It seems that someone up on that platform believes you are more than what you seem.’

  The blood drained from Siray’s face as her old Change master’s warnings about hiding her sevonix form rang in her ears.

  That was it, then. Someone knew her secret.

  She swallowed and turned back to Herrin, forcing her face to remain as blank as his, her tone even. ‘And if I refuse to give a demonstration?’

  ‘Then I doubt that your friends will survive the morning,’ came Herrin’s swift response, his voice even deeper than before. Siray saw him look up again at the balcony, and spinning on her heel, she caught the middle figure giving him a nod.

  Feeling Herrin move slightly, she turned back again quickly, expecting to see his hand lifted in preparation to place a blow of some sort on her. Yet
, while his hand was raised, it wasn’t aimed at her. Instead, the training master was looking towards the doorway that the captives had marched through earlier.

  His gesture had obviously been some kind of signal, as a soldier standing by the door opened it, and in marched a new file of Faction soldiers.

  Siray could see at once from their bearing, from the way they held their various weapons, and from the controlled expressions on their faces, that these were experienced warriors.

  She turned slowly to face this new threat, preparing herself, but the soldiers didn’t head towards her as she’d expected.

  Rather, their steps took them in the direction of her friends for a short distance before the one in the lead had them stop and fan out.

  Silence echoed loudly across the sand as Siray’s blood pumped quickly in her veins. She looked back at Herrin and saw what she had guessed in his cold eyes.

  ‘You don’t have a choice if you want to save them.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  UP ON THE platforms, Siray’s friends had ceased struggling against their bonds, tied tightly as they now were to the posts.

  She wondered desperately for a moment why they did not Change and fight or flee but swiftly realised that there must be something stopping them, as Baindan’s and Zale’s furious expressions told her that they would have ripped apart their platforms and the guards who had bound them there had they been able to.

  She was still looking at her friends, desperately thinking how she might save them without giving up her secret, when Herrin spoke again.

  ‘Proceed.’

  Siray spun towards him, staring at him half in rage, half in shock, but Herrin only nodded back towards the soldiers, as if saying, they don’t have much time.

  Siray whirled again and froze—the soldiers were advancing on her friends in quick order, some of them Changing along the way, while others kept their usual forms. A number of predator shapes emerged, while others shifted into larger beasts that began to gather speed, their long legs covering large lengths of sandy ground with every stride.