Dead and Buryd: A Dystopian Action Adventure Novel (Out of Orbit Book 1)

by Cooke, Chele

  “Wood is a living thing, my little Gianna,” he used to tell her. “And like all living things, you can’t tell them what they should be. You can only help them find what suits them best.”

  She had never really known what he had meant when she was a child, but it sounded very profound, so she’d never questioned him. Now, she thought she understood a little better. Just as she had decided for herself that she wanted to be a medic, and her parents had used their skills to help her along, Halden had decided that he wanted to work with horses. It had also been their parents’ acceptance of not forcing other living beings into what they might want that had stopped them from questioning the news that their eldest son would not join with a woman. Instead, at the age of nineteen, Halden Lennox had claimed that he was in love. Nobody had even known he had dated before.

  His name was Nequiel. He was a nomad who had come to the Kahle to sell a foal. As Halden was working with the tribe’s horses, it had been Halden who had to look over the foal to see whether it was bred well enough to bring into the Kahle stock.

  It had been Georgianna who first knew of Halden’s infatuation with the nomad, who had stuck around longer than had probably been considered necessary after the foal had been given the clearance to be bought. Halden told his younger sister while travelling south towards Nyvalau. Georgianna, admittedly, didn’t understand. She knew there were men who joined with other men, but at the age of thirteen, she wasn’t entirely sure why. Watching her brother with Nequiel, however, she quickly learned that it wasn’t about finding someone suitable to join with, someone you could live with. It was about joining with the person you couldn’t live without.

  Watching Halden with Braedon now, Georgianna knew that this was why she hadn’t joined, why she couldn’t see herself joining any time soon, because she had not found that person she could not bear to be parted from. There was a sadness every time Halden looked at his son because, by blood, Braedon wasn’t actually his, and looked far more like his biological father. The boy’s mop of brown hair was blacker than Halden’s, the olive hue of his skin darker than her brother’s, and his eyes were the bright reddish brown that had been so distinctive in his father. The boy, almost five years old, was actually Nequiel’s son by blood. Nequiel had been asked to father a child when he officially joined the Kahle. The Adveni had wiped out a lot of the Kahle, and the elders wanted to ensure that their blood continued.

  A woman named Heather, widowed by the war, begged the elders to let her be the one chosen. Her husband had always wanted children, and they’d simply never had the good fortune to conceive a child. It had been decided that, should the coupling be successful, the child would remain predominantly with their mother, but both Nequiel, and Halden, who by this time was joined with Nequiel for all under the sun and moon, would also be parents to the child.

  The baby boy was brought into the world in the middle of the freeze. While Georgianna did everything she could, Heather succumbed to cold and, having lost so much blood, did not survive the birth.

  Braedon, named for the wild flowers that grew within the heather, came into the Lennox home, and was immediately accepted as family despite not being any blood relation. As a gesture to his place with them, he was given the name Lennox instead of Yinah, Nequiel’s family name.

  It had been almost three years since Nequiel was captured by the Adveni, a trade with an Adveni that went wrong. When Nequiel could not deliver the items promised, the Adveni claimed he was a criminal and a traitor, and he was executed in the square for all to see. Halden had stood among the crowd, held back by three Kahle men who kept tight hold on him the entire time.

  As the last of the sun disappeared behind the horizon, the lengthening shadows melted into the night’s darkness, held at bay only by the oil lamp’s flickering glow. Halden finally peeled himself from the thick woollen blanket on the floor and lifted Braedon into his arms.

  “I’m going to put him to bed,” he explained, carrying Braedon from the small family space.

  Her father lifted his head and gave a brief nod before returning to his whittling. A low, melodic hum slipped past his lips into the air. Georgianna leaned against him, her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the knife’s progression over the surface of the wood.

  Her father’s humming was threatening to send Georgianna off to sleep herself, so she sat up straight, shaking out the cloudy tendrils of sleep, and clambered up. Placing her hand on his shoulder, she gave it a brief squeeze before following her brother.

  The house was built of thick beams of wood that held the structure while a sandstone mix made up the walls. The family space stood at the front of the house on the right-hand side, her father’s room on the left. Behind those were two rooms once occupied by Georgianna and Halden, and now by Braedon as well. Mostly, Halden shared a room with Braedon, though Georgianna had often told her brother that she would share with the young boy, seeing as she wasn’t home every night. Whether it was through convenience, or because he didn’t want to be separated from his son, Halden had refused her offer, meaning that mostly, the last room stood empty, waiting for her return.

  Even after all the work gone into making the house, the sandstone was still rough in places, and tickled her fingers when she ran them across the surface. The thin corridor out towards the kitchen was dark except for the light flickering through the doorway to the family room. Through the open front door, the continued bustle of activity from nearby houses filtered in. A little way away, she could hear a group of men playing musical instruments, singing an old song she had heard as a child. Despite the fire having been put out, the breeze from the back doors out of the kitchen wafted the smell of stew through the thin corridor, making Georgianna’s stomach rumble appreciatively. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, as if the sound would be enough to rouse her young nephew, she rested her shoulder against the doorframe, watching in fond silence as Halden tucked Braedon into his bed.

  “I should take advantage of you being here,” Halden teased as he came back to the doorway and slipped past her into the corridor. “Make you do it.”

  Georgianna’s whisper of a giggle still sounded far too loud so close to the slumbering child, and so she reached in, hooking her finger around the door and pulling it towards the frame.

  “I entertained him all afternoon, thank you very much,” Georgianna defended. “Including stopping him from putting a whole host of new spices into the stew, namely dirt.”

  Halden snorted, his green eyes lit like gemstones pressed in his tanned skin. Instead of returning to sit with their father, he pushed open the door to Georgianna’s room, ducking his head to get through the low doorway. Slumping heavily down onto the bed, he rested against the wall, patting the mattress next to him. It was a thin bed, just wide enough for one person to sleep comfortably, but Georgianna made her way around to the other side and perched on the edge next to him, shoulder to shoulder. She rested back against the wall.

  “You’ve been alright?” he asked.

  She glanced at him. His eyes were closed. Even knowing that he wouldn’t see it, she nodded.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Doesn’t sound it.”

  Turning her head, Georgianna was surprised to find Halden’s eyes narrowed at her, a curious suspicion etched into his face. Lifting her feet from the floor, she laid her legs down the mattress next to his.

  “It’s nothing,” she answered.

  Halden reached out, taking Georgianna’s hand and turning it palm up to face him. Pressing his index finger into the centre of her palm, he moved swiftly on to each of her fingers in turn, pressing them down with his own. He moved idly back and forth between her fingers, quick patterns that made little sense. Georgianna narrowed her eyes, but before she could pull her hand away, or even protest, he pushed her little finger back until a spasm of pain shot up her arm.

  Georgianna squeaked, tugging on her arm to free it from his grasp, but Halden kept a tight hold, returning to his pattern of gentle taps. H
e used to do this as a child. Older than Georgianna, and much stronger, when she wouldn’t tell him something, he would play the game. She never knew when a strong push was coming, and waiting for it with each gentle tap only made the pain worse when it came.

  “Alright, alright!”

  Halden glanced at her, a devilish smirk across his lips as his finger hovered above her own. He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

  “Let go then,” Georgianna said.

  “Not until you tell me.”

  “Vtensu.”

  Halden beamed at her despite the Adveni insult.

  “A friend wants a favour,” Georgianna admitted. “Taye, he wants something delivered to Nyah.”

  “I thought Nyah was…”

  “Buryd, yeah.”

  Halden’s smirk promptly vanished to be replaced with a worried frown. He knew Taye and Nyah. While Taye was closer to Georgianna’s age, and Nyah a good few years younger than them both, it was impossible not to know them within the tribe, especially when Taye and Georgianna had been close friends as children.

  “What’s he expecting?” Halden asked.

  Georgianna paused, her gaze set on her hand, still clasped within her brother’s. She sighed and shrugged.

  “I don’t think it’s much, just a note, but… but it’s still risky.”

  “I doubt risk is factoring much to him right now, is it?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to upset Halden by bringing up Nequiel, but having never been in their position, she couldn’t imagine how it felt to be separated from someone you felt so completely bound to.

  “Did you ever try?” she asked. “To get messages to Nequiel?”

  Georgianna could see the tightening in her brother’s jaw immediately, the way his face hardened into a mask she saw so rarely.

  “Once,” Halden answered. “A few days before he was brought to the square.”

  Shifting her position, Georgianna sat up a little straighter, watching Halden.

  “You never asked me to…”

  “And risk you being caught?” he asked. “No, I couldn’t put you in that position.”

  “Then how?”

  “A cook. He promised to pass it to one of the men who collected the food each day.”

  “Did he get it?”

  “I don’t know. The cook passed it on, but whether it got to Nequiel, I’ll never know.”

  “You don’t think I should try?”

  Halden sat up straight, turning to look properly at her. Keeping hold of her hand, he enclosed it in both of his own, resting them in his lap.

  “I’m not saying that, Gianna,” he murmured. “To hear from Nyah, for Taye, would be worth more than anything else in the world. I would have given anything to hear from Quiel in those last few days. But remember that it is your risk. I didn’t understand just how much I had asked, and Taye does not realise either. We become blinded by a connection like that. This must be your decision. You are a smart girl; you will make the correct choice.”

  Georgianna turned towards him and rested her temple against her brother’s chest. Keeping a tight hold on her hand with one of his own, the other came up to rest on the back of her neck, holding her against him as he dipped his head and kissed her scalp.

  “No matter what you decide, little sister,” he whispered. “You must do one thing for me.”

  Georgianna didn’t move, her breath whispering across the hairs on her arm.

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  Halden grinned against her hair.

  “Don’t tell Da’.”

  8 The Friend in the South

  Despite the lack of windows in Georgianna’s bedroom, the morning light streamed through the open door. She rolled onto her front, burying her face into her pillow in the hopes of blocking out the offensive rays, but movement throughout the house and even outside chased her dreams further and further away. From the kitchen, she could hear Braedon asking Halden what he would be doing while her brother tried to get ready to leave.

  In the tunnels, when she stayed below, it was easier to keep consciousness at bay despite the bustle of movement and everyday business. While the murk of the constant shadows remained, it was easier to push distractions aside, but not here. Sure enough, Georgianna had only just set her feet on the floor when Braedon ran past her bedroom with a racket disproportionate to his small size.

  “Grandda’, grandda’!” he called. “Da’ says you take me tradin’!”

  Her father’s low rumbling laugh echoed through the small home as Georgianna pushed herself from her bed and padding over to the trunk that held the majority of her belongings.

  “Did he really?” her father’s voice echoed. “Well, I guess if your da’ says so, it must be so.”

  Lifting the trunk lid, Georgianna rummaged through her clothes, pulling out a dress. Tugging her shirt from her body and over her head, she tossed it onto the mattress and swung the dress around her, slipping her arms into the long sleeves and wrapping the material around her body, buttoning the inside together before pulling the leather belt around her waist to tie at the side.

  By the time she emerged from her room with a change of clothes already tucked under her arm, her brother was almost out the door, turning back to give her a quick pat on the cheek and a thoughtful gaze. Georgianna returned a weak smile, clapping her hand on top of Halden’s for a moment before he left.

  “Gianna, you coming tradin’ with us?” Braedon asked, already dressed in clothes that were a little too big for him.

  Georgianna pouted back at him, crouching down in the light of the open doorway.

  “Afraid not, Brae. I have to go do my own work.”

  “Med’cines,” Braedon nodded knowledgeably.

  “That’s it,” she said.

  Glancing up from Braedon’s shining face, Georgianna smiled sadly at her father. He smiled back, though it wasn’t a true smile. His green eyes remained distant, and there was a forced look to his expression.

  “You’ll return soon, my Gianna?” he asked.

  Georgianna leaned closer and kissed her father on the cheek.

  “Soon as I can.”

  He held her face in his hands.

  “Soon as the sun allows,” he told her before the moment was over and he lightly swatted the back of her arm to get her moving.

  Georgianna collected her bag from the front room, stuffing in the change of clothes, and stepped out into the glaring morning sun. Heading south through the camps, she wove a winding path through the houses. Even though the camps of the different tribes bled into each other in an uneven pattern, Georgianna had walked the path so many times that she knew immediately when she had stepped into Nerrin territory. She didn’t feel fear at the different tribe, not like she used to, but her father had always told her that it was best to tread with caution when dealing outside your own. These days, Georgianna supposed that related more to the Adveni than it did to the other tribes, but unlike the Kahle, the Nerrin had no reason to protect her should anything happen while she was on their ground.

  Still, despite the difference, people were cheerful and friendly when they recognised her. A decade of treating their wounds and helping when none of their own medics were available had given her a good reputation. Her father also had a good reputation. Since before the Adveni arrival, her father had been known as an expert craftsman, and trading in Adlai amongst the other tribes had been good for as long as Georgianna could remember.

  “Georgianna!”

  Georgianna glanced around to see her friend, Liliah, seated against the wall of her home, a leather hide across her lap. Across the hide, balanced precariously on her legs, a number of small paper packets lay open, each one holding a small mound of coloured powder. Careful not to knock any of them, Georgianna approached Liliah and sat down beside her.

  “Hi,” she said. “How are you?”

  “Can’t complain,” Liliah chimed. “I missed you yesterday.”

  Georgianna frowned. For a moment
, the worry that perhaps she had missed a shift at the bar fluttered through her stomach. She’d been sure she was free, otherwise she would have chosen another day to come home.

  “Yesterday?” Georgianna repeated. “I wasn’t working.”

  Liliah laughed; a bright, cheerful laugh that suited her face perfectly. The girl was one of the prettiest women Georgianna had ever known. With a beautiful figure, dark ringlets fell over her shoulders as naturally as water slipped from a cliff. Bright blue eyes sparkled with mischief in her olive skin.

  “Yes, I know,” she answered. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you.”

  Patting Georgianna’s knee affectionately, Liliah collected up one of the packets in her lap. She shook the paper gently to smooth out the mound of lilac powder, and began folding the paper around it in quick, intricate motions.

  “You worried me for a second there,” Georgianna scolded.

  “You? Worry? Like that’s even possible.”

  Georgianna let out a breath of laughter as she reached out and carefully picked up one of the papers. Copying Liliah’s motion, she shook the paper, grimacing when a small sprinkling slipped over the edge and dusted her dress. She quickly tipped it the other way a little, gathering the powder in the centre of the paper and began folding it carefully, without any of the skill or speed at which Liliah’s hands worked.

  “I was with my family.”

  “Oh, so you weren’t with…”

  Georgianna narrowed her eyes as she looked back at Liliah. The brunette had a keen ear for gossip. Georgianna often had no idea where she’d heard it.

  “Was I with who?” Georgianna asked suspiciously.

  Liliah bent the last fold in the paper, tucking the pointed corner under one of the other edges. She leaned forward a little, glancing both ways past Georgianna. Georgianna followed her gaze, wondering why she was being so secretive about it. Possibly her family didn’t approve of the Belsa. It wouldn’t be surprising. There were those who felt that things would go a lot more smoothly with the Adveni if people stopped fighting them.