Devour: Book Three of the Zoya Chronicles

by Kate Sander

  "Get him," Roald barked at the guards when they entered. The guards opened a gate and hauled a man out, putting him in the chair. As they went to restrain him, Roald said, "That won't be necessary."

  The withered man slouched in the chair. He was bald with a long grey moustache, dressed in a red and white robe and sash. Dirty and grimy, he wore no shoes, and his brown feet were caked with calluses and mud.

  "Monk Tsu," Roald said. "I've heard a great deal about you."

  "I highly doubt it," the monk said with a grunt.

  "You're of the Shoalin Dynasty. You protect information in Anzen and you were sent by your monastery to keep an eye on our movements. It is lucky that our dear General Camora is better than you at spying."

  General Camora emerged from the darkness. Eris jumped and Malin shot her a sidelong glare. Ashamed, Eris looked away from the blond man's pointed face. His piercing blue eyes laughed at her surprise, though he was smart enough to utter no sound. No one, including the highest ranking and most prized General, was allowed to laugh at the Princess.

  "He got lucky," the monk spat.

  "Tell me where the monastery is. Tell me what you're protecting."

  "No," Monk Tsu replied. "You may kill me, I will never betray my charge."

  "We shall see," Roald answered. He knelt in front of the monk and grasped him on both sides of the face. "We shall see," he whispered and stared into the monk's eyes.

  The monk shied away as if he'd been burned. "No," he gasped. Eris wouldn't turn her head, she needed to watch.

  "What are you protecting, Monk?"

  "NO!" the monk yelled, digging his nails into the chair, trying desperately to retreat from the gaze of the Ampulex King. "I will not submit!"

  "What are you guarding?" Roald said softly. "Tell me and it will stop."

  "Please," he gasped. "Please, make it stop."

  "You know how to make it stop," Roald breathed softly. "I will stop showing you this if you tell me what the Monks of Shaolin are guarding."

  "Maria," the Monk sobbed. "No Maria. Not again. Please not again."

  Roald said nothing. He kept his grasp on the old man's face, keeping eye contact, showing him his worst fears over and over. People would descend into madness if Roald chose them too, their worst fears confronted repeatedly until their psyche broke.

  "The book!" the Monk cried out. "We are guarding The Book of All."

  Shocked, Roald dropped his hands from the Monk's face. The Monk sobbed and shrunk into the chair, a shrivelled and broken old man.

  "What's the…?" Eris muttered.

  Malin shot her a warning glance and Eris fell silent. Roald turned to them. He stared at Malin and she stared back. A conversation and a decision seemed to be made without speaking. Roald turned and once again faced the old man.

  "Where?" he breathed.

  The monk moaned through cracked lips. "I cannot..."

  "Tell me where," Roald snapped angrily. "If you do not, I will ensure that you see the death of your beloved wife Maria over and over until you eventually kill yourself to make it stop."

  "North," the Monk said without further incentive. "North in the mountains. The Monastery was erected to guard the book at all costs."

  Roald lifted his head to the sky as if in ecstasy. "You did well," he said, dropping his hands from the broken man's face. Rising, he turned to Malin, "He's ready for you, my dear."

  Malin smiled and strode toward the old Monk.

  His scream sent the birds flying from the trees.

  Eris didn't look away. She would show no weakness. But she knew that the monk's pain had only just begun.

  Roald strode out of the tent, beckoning Eris and General Camora to come with him. They turned to go, leaving Malin, the most terrifying of them all, alone with the monk.

  "Get two regiments ready," Roald barked at a waiting aide. "I want Worthless and Forsaken with six Generals. They will follow this monk into the mountains, Queen Malin will ensure he shows them the way. Tell them to secure the book at all costs."

  "King Father," Eris spoke up to the man striding away with a purpose. Butterflies filled her stomach as he stopped to look at her, pure annoyance on his face. Embarrassed that she'd spoken at all, her face grew cherry red. Stuttering, she continued, "I - I - I volunteer to lead this mission to the mountains. I wish to prove myself. I will secure this book for you and Queen Mother."

  Roald's face softened. He led them into their tent and fetched a drink of water.

  Eris waited at the door with a smirking General Camora, anxiously awaiting his decision... or for him to say anything. Roald was lost in thought and Eris knew better than to interrupt him.

  "No," he said finally. "No. I have another mission for you and General Camora. There is a Zoya in this world who is a threat to all that we hold dear. You must find her."

  "Who are we finding?" General Camora asked.

  "A woman by the name of Tomo. Actually, she is Empress Kogo Tomo Hachiman, the blood Empress of Anzen. She's back, and I want to have a conversation. Take with you two other Generals of your choice and bring her to me, daughter."

  Eris and General Camora bowed and turned to leave.

  "General," Roald said, "you will track only. Princess Eris is to be in charge of this mission." The General hesitated as if to say something, then decided better of it and strode from the tent.

  "I won't fail you, King Father," Eris said.

  "No, be sure that you don't."

  She turned to go. "Father... What is the Book of All?"

  Roald sighed, "Bring me the Blood Empress to prove to me that you are ready to know."

  10

  Tomo

  "Come on you little bastard," Tomo muttered to herself, hovering perfectly balanced in a tree, watching her prey.

  The little brown rabbit sniffed the ground, rustling through the weeds in the forest. It was tranquil today, peaceful. The only things in the forest were Tomo, this rabbit, and...

  "GAAAAAHHHHH!" The little girl crashed through the brushes, sending the rabbit scampering away into the forest and leaving Tomo's snare empty. The ten-year old fell to the ground in a fit of giggles as Tomo hopped down from the fir tree.

  "Really now," Tomo said, trying to hide her smile. "Was that really necessary Akira?"

  "I win!" Akira cackled. "I snared three rabbits, how many did you snare?" She held up her prizes.

  "That would have been three," Tomo muttered. Akira snorted and skipped away.

  "The great Kogo Tomo Hachiban, the Empress of Blood, was out hunted by a ten year old," she called over her shoulder, following the path up the hill to their homestead.

  Tomo jogged and caught up with her. "We must be more calm and humble in victory than we are in defeat."

  Chastised, the little girl hung her head. Tomo smiled at her and hugged her close with an arm over her shoulder. "But you're right. Akira the Mighty has out hunted the Blood Empress. Something to tell your friends."

  Akira smiled and Tomo's heart melted. The girl was adorable. Big brown eyes, long brown hair, dressed in a long black skirt and a loose fitting robe tied with a belt. Spunky, sassy, and full of life, it hadn't taken Tomo long to fall in love with the girl. She was the exact kind of girl that Tomo had wished to raise with her wife.

  The memory of her wife came in a painful flood, along with the memories of her best friends, Senka and Carter. Grasping her dragon necklace with the ruby eye, she came to a complete stop.

  "You coming, Tomo?” Akira asked.

  "Yes, yes. Sorry Akira," she mumbled, trying to focus on her surroundings to stop the memories.

  The flood was too big to stop. Images flashed through her head. Senka tied up on the floor of Freudman's compound, watching Tomo die. Kelly being force-fed the pills that would send her over here to face a fate worse than death. The look on Senka's face when she figured out that Tomo's wife (Senka's boss) had exchanged Senka's life for her own. She squeezed her necklace harder, but the images didn't stop. They cascaded so fast s
he couldn't keep up. Her, as The Empress of Anzen, ordering the slaughter of ten traitors, watching their blood stain the walls of the throne room. Her bloody climb up the ladder of Anzen royalty. Her ultimate demise in the ill-advised military venture that with the win would only succeed in giving her more power. On and on they went... eyes closed, she hoped for darkness to make them stop.

  "TOMO!"

  Tomo snapped out of it. She was lying in the fetal position on the forest floor, clutching her necklace, sobbing. Akira was hovering over her, fear and worry clouding the young one’s jubilant face.

  "Sorry, sorry," Tomo said, slowly pushing herself to a sitting position.

  "Take your time," Akira sputtered. "I can go get dad, he can help you."

  "No!" Tomo snapped. Akira took a startled step back. "I'm sorry. No, that's not necessary. I'm sorry Akira, sometimes my head gets away from me." Tomo pushed herself to her feet.

  "Thinking of your home again?"

  "Nothing gets past you, dear."

  "I know I'd miss my mom and dad if I left them behind. I'd probably cry lots too. It's okay to cry."

  Tomo smiled at her. "Thank you, my dear. It would be best if we got back to the house. It's getting late and your mother and father will be getting worried."

  "Sounds good," Akira chirped. Reaching out and taking Tomo's hand, Akira led her through the forest.

  Six weeks. It only took six weeks for Akira and her family to weasel their way into her heart. When she'd crossed over here to The Other Place, she'd thought that she would die alone. But Akira found her. Funny how a child could save one's soul.

  Tomo allowed herself to be led through the trees, still weak from the incident. The forest was much like the one in the Okuchichibu Mountains in Japan in her world, a place she'd been before on her honeymoon. Tall trees and overgrown paths with a low population led to the purest beauty. If she hadn't been to The Other Place before, she would have thought that this was heaven.

  They came to the homestead. A well-built home on the side of a hill, cut into the forest. Akira and her parents sold wood to surrounding villages as trade, a lucrative business that kept their homestead cleared.

  The usual "WHACK" of the axe was missing and Tomo's eyes drew together with worry. Standing a little taller, she moved the rabbits she was carrying to her left shoulder, placing her right hand on the katana attached to her hip.

  Akira's mother, Chuya, stepped out the door and waved to them.

  "Mother!" Akira yelled, running away from Tomo's side. Tomo immediately relaxed and let her hand fall. "Mother I out hunted Tomo! I caught three rabbits and she only caught two!"

  "Three rabbits!" Chuya said, wrapping the girl in a hug. "Akira the Mighty strikes again."

  Akira went to go inside the house but Chuya stopped her, allowing Tomo to catch up. They bowed to each other, and Tomo noticed the glint of worry in her eyes.

  "Eito is inside with a man from the village," Chuya said. "We will wait out here."

  Tomo nodded. Chuya took the rabbits from her, "Let’s go skin these for supper my daughter," she said to Akira.

  "But Mom! I want to go listen too!"

  "Akira, hush," Chuya said firmly. Akira took the cue from her mother and fell silent. Tomo ventured into the house.

  "Tomo!" Eito called from the dining room table. Tomo joined them,, bowing to the two men kneeling at the table. They returned the bow. Tomo knelt with them and Eito poured her some tea.

  "We have been waiting for you," Eito said. "This is Genkei. Please, tell her what you told me."

  The visitor, Genkei, was young, barely twenty. His forearm was wrapped in a bandage and he looked frazzled.

  "They attacked the village," Genkei said. "They attacked us."

  "Who?" Tomo asked.

  "The Ampulex. They came in the night and took us by surprise. They slaughtered everyone. I only just got away. My family..." He drifted off and sobbed.

  "So they're coming north," Tomo said. "Why now? They were venturing east to west. They haven't had a reason."

  Genkei turned to her saying, "I waited and watched. There were only four of them, but they were all Zoya, all Generals. They captured our elders. I heard what they were looking for."

  "What?" Tomo demanded.

  "You."

  11

  Carter

  The exhaustion from the day seeped from every pore in Carter's body.

  "Just make it to your bed," he muttered. "Make it to your bed and go to sleep. It will all be better in the morning."

  "You know I can hear you, right?" Black Eyes piped up from beside him.

  "I was hoping that you'd be gone by now."

  "You still haven't told me why Roald Ammondson can't be the guy that kicked my ass a few weeks ago."

  "What you've told me about that situation," Carter said, climbing the stairs to his apartment, focusing and taking them one at a time, "makes me think that it was a dream, nothing more. And you're a hallucination. You're not real. So your fantasy experience doesn't exist. So I'm not talking about it."

  "What makes something real?" Black Eyes countered.

  "I am not getting into a philosophical existential debate with you-"

  "Shut up," Black Eyes said, interrupting him. "There's someone upstairs."

  The tone caught Carter off guard, so he listened. Placing his hand on his sidearm hidden underneath his leather jacket, he crept around the corner of the last landing to his penthouse.

  There was, indeed, a figure standing by his door. Skinny, lanky, with shoulder's back and neck cocked, Carter got the "teenager" sense. And he only knew one teenager.

  "Hello, Isaac," Carter said loudly. The kid jumped and turned, holding out something in front of him. "Put the gun down, Isaac. Then we will talk, alright?"

  Tremors shook through the kid's hand and he looked at Carter, wild eyed.

  “Kid, put it down, alright?” Carter said, still holding his hands out.

  The authoritative tone in Carter's voice got through, and Isaac slowly lowered the weapon.

  Carter crept up to him, hands outstretched. As soon as the kid lowered the handgun, Carter gently grabbed it and took it from him, ensuring the safety was on.

  Isaac let out a sob and collapsed into Carter's arms.

  "It's okay, kid," Carter said, supporting the boy and unlocking the door to his apartment. "It's okay. Let's go inside, have a drink, talk it out."

  More sobs. Carter's heart was racing. His son. His. His own flesh and blood was here with him. He was finally holding his child in his arms.

  So the teenager had wanted to kill him. Carter didn't think anything of it. A lot of people wanted to kill him. And teenagers were brash. As he hauled Isaac to the couch in his messy living room, he relished the weight of the teenager, the feeling of his skin against his, the smell of too much body spray.

  His own. He was here. His son.

  "Stay here," Carter mutter hoarsely, too overcome with emotion to speak. Isaac didn't answer, instead sobbing into his hands.

  Carter went to the kitchen where he could still see the teenager. Pouring two shots of Jack Daniels and grabbing a box of tissues, he thought a silent prayer for forgiveness from Senka. He'd promised her he'd never drink again.

  Promises were made to be broken.

  On that thought, he poured them each a glass of water as well. The kid would probably need it.

  He walked into the living room and placed the shot of whiskey in front of the teenager.

  "Drink this," Carter said.

  "My dad said I shouldn't drink," the kid mumbled through quivering lips.

  "Well, I think today is going to be the exception."

  The kid stared at the drink, hands shaking.

  "I know you don't know me, but it will help that," Carter said, raising his shot glass and gesturing at the kid's shaking hands. "Then we can talk."

  Isaac nodded and picked up his glass. Carter drank first, watching the kid hesitate over his glass for a second then down the drink. Cou
ghing and spluttering, he spat out half and tried to breathe. Carter pushed over the glass of water and the kid drank greedily. When he stopped and put down the glass, Carter saw his hands weren't shaking anymore. Good old Jack had done his job.

  "Now," Carter said, leaning back in his chair, "why are you here to kill me?"

  "I'm not sure," Isaac said, face still flushed from the whiskey. "I am so angry right now. At everything. I should be happy. I lived. I got out of there," Isaac sniffled and wiped his face. "Charlie told me to protect people. She told me to act..."

  "You saw me leave and your mother was crying on your doorstep," Carter offered the distraught young man.

  "Why didn't you want me?" Isaac yelled. "Why didn't you want anything to do with me?"

  Carter's heart wrenched. It was so painful he thought it would kill him. Wanting, desperately, to rise and hold the broken boy in his arms, he forced himself to stay on the chair.

  "I can't..." Carter started, then, rethinking his strategy, "There are some truths that are your mother's to answer. But I would have never left you. I've always wanted you, even if I just found out you existed."

  "You left her," Isaac blubbered.

  "I did," Carter said. "I wasn't... I wasn't strong enough or old enough to do right by you," Carter said. It was his turn to wipe his eyes. "I didn't deserve you. Your father, Chris, he stepped up and did what I couldn't do. He's a better man than me." He reached out to Isaac then stopped himself short.

  Isaac looked at him. Carter saw his own eyes. Almond shaped, brown with copper flecks.

  "I want..." Carter stopped and steeled himself. "I would like, if you are willing, to see you once in a while. We will have to run it by your parents. But I know a little about what you are going through, and I think we can maybe talk about it."

  Isaac nodded. "I'd like that."

  Carter smiled. "How did you know where I lived?"

  Isaac waved his hand, "Charlie told me."

  "But... Charlie didn't know I had a kid. I didn't even know..."

  "She said I have your eyes," Isaac shrugged. "Crazy, right? That I would be the kid that ended up in the compound with your old partner. Seems a little..."