“Guard, expose her back,” Aziel demanded.
A guard standing closest to Maya walked over and tore open the back of her dress, exposing the flawless bare skin underneath.
“Proceed,” Kai commanded, nearly falling over the rail in excited anticipation.
Jarod let the whip unravel, its length pooling at his feet. Without turning his head he caught sight of Patches holding and comforting Jade the best he could as she turned her head from the scene. He concentrated everything he had on finding that peaceful place inside himself that Maya always sent him to when she was around, praying it would help him be as gentle as he could as he let the whip fly across the yard.
The snapping sound filled the stadium, accompanied by Maya’s ear piercing scream. Jarod gritted his teeth watching as the bright red welt he had created immediately cracked, saturating the back of her dress in blood. Maya, doing her best to remain standing despite the pain, wrapped the chains around her hands to give her better support, and braced herself for the next blow. Hoping he had given her enough time to prepare, Jarod once again sent the whip across the yard and onto the delicate skin of the young lady he had grown to care so much for. Once again Maya’s scream echoed through the yard.
He raised his arm and delivered the third blow. This time, however, instead of screaming in pain, Jarod watched helpless as Maya’s whole body gave out and she hung dangling from the chains holding her to the pole. Hoping they would be lenient, he glanced over his shoulder to where the Shadows watched behind him.
“Two more,” Aziel stated, seeming to have read his thoughts.
Disheartened, Jarod delivered the fourth, then finally the fifth blow to the unconscious body that didn’t even stir at the contact. Then he turned to face the Shadows.
“Well done,” Gaia said as the three of them stood to leave. “Now take her back to your room and remember the lesson you have learned.”
“And remember, no red formula and no feeding, this heals on its own,” Aziel added.
Jarod stood where he was until the last person had left the viewing stands then made his way to Maya to investigate the damage. Once he was closer to her lifeless body he could clearly see he had failed terribly in trying to take it easy. Several of the cuts extended deep into the muscle beneath and he cringed knowing how much pain she would be in when she came to. Blood boiling with anger, he reached up and snapped the chains holding her to the pole.
Not wanting to cause her any more pain than he already had, he gently laid her over his shoulder belly down, and made his way up to the apartment. He was furious, burning with the desire to kill anyone or anything that crossed his path. Sensing his angst, people in the hallways quickly scattered, giving him a wide girth as he wound his way through the hallways and up to their room. Arriving at their apartment door, he didn’t even bother with the lock; instead he kicked the door once, busting the lock open and knocking the door loose from its hinges. Once inside, he headed straight for the bedroom to lay her down.
He took care, laying her gently on her stomach and turning her head to the side to face him. “Maya, can you hear me?” he asked, softly brushing the hair from her face.
But she didn’t move. He called to her a few more times trying to coax her from her sleep so he could at least know he hadn’t gone too far. But as more minutes passed, turning into hours, it became evident that she would not be awakening this night. Feeling defeated he collapsed onto the floor beside the bed, bracing his head in his hands.
“Sir,” a voice called softly from the doorway. Infuriated by the audacity of someone coming into his apartment uninvited, Jarod raised his head to see who the idiot was he was about to kill. Patches and Jade stood nervously watching him from just outside the bedroom door. “We came to see if we could help.”
“Help?” he bellowed. Leaping to his feet, he stormed their direction, pointing at the bed. “This is what your help got us the last time.” The two of them quickly retreated as he approached. “What the hell did you think was going to happen when they found out I had fed off her?”
The terrified pair back peddled as fast as they could, but in two large strides Jarod was on them. Not one to go after a woman, Jarod grabbed ahold of Patches’ tattered robe and lifted him several feet off the ground. Patches let out a yelp and dropped his medical bag, covering his head in anticipation of what was to come.
“Please don’t hurt him, we were only trying to help. If we hadn’t done it Kai would have taken her, possibly even claiming her as his own,” Jade begged, trying to pull Patches from his grasp. “We did what we thought had to be done, sir. Would you rather she had ended up like me?”
Jarod looked down on her, at the large bruise covering her cheek, and dropped the cowering man back to the ground. Feeling as if he was going to explode if he didn’t do something about his pent up rage, Jarod released a frustrated growl and kicked the small table by the couch sending it flying across the room where it slammed against the wall and shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. “What can you do? They won’t let her feed to heal it, they said she must heal naturally,” he grunted out before collapsing onto the couch clutching his head.
“Then I will treat her as if she is Terrian,” Patches said, hands trembling as he stood and brushed his robe back into place. “I will stich up the worst of them, cover the rest, and provide you with a medicine to help numb the pain.”
Lacking other options, Jarod reluctantly agreed. Patches picked up his bag and went into the room to go to work while he and Jade remained outside silently sitting on the couch waiting. He did his best to remain patient, but after the third hour had passed with still no signs of him emerging from the room, Jarod began to grow concerned. Unable to handle the tension building out of fear that something had gone terribly wrong, he rose to his feet and headed across the room as Jade watched him cautiously. He was only steps from the door when it swung open and Patches stepped out.
“I’m done,” he said brushing past him on his way to the apartment door. “And she is awake and asking for you.” He paused, looking back at Jarod over his shoulder. “That is if your name is Jarod, otherwise she is looking for someone else.”
Jarod glared at him as he continued out the door, waving. “Thought so. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us. I’m actually glad to know you have a real name. Kind of makes you seem more like the rest of us.”
Jade stood silently and followed Patches, pulling the door closed behind her the best she could with the broken latch. Once they were gone he turned his attention back to the bedroom and went inside to check on Maya.
She lay on her side staring at the wall, but when she saw him walk in, she struggled to sit up. “No, no,” he pleaded, rushing to her side. “Lie down and rest.”
She settled back into the bed; her eyes swollen and weary. “Jarod, will you sleep with me?”
“Maya, I can’t. I am, sorry but …”
“Please, I need to have you close to me. Your presence makes me feel safe.”
“Safe?” He rubbed his hand over his face and knelt down on the floor beside her. “Maya, after I just …” he broke off, unable to even speak the words. With a ragged breath he took her hand into his own, “We have to figure out a way to get you out of here.”
“No, I am not leaving here until you do.” Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “We are in this together. So please, Jarod, lay down with me.” Maya scooted on her side away from the edge of the bed making room for him to lie down beside her. Each movement sent wave after wave of pain shooting up through her back, causing her to grimace and flinch.
“Maya, be still please,” he pleaded.
“I will when you lay down.”
Begrudgingly, he pulled off his jacket and boots and laid down facing her in the bed as she nestled herself in close against his body. Slowly whatever medication Patches had given her began to take effect, and as she began to doze off to sleep she called to him one last time, “Jarod?”
“Yes,” he ask
ed running his fingers through her hair.
“Aren’t you proud of me? I didn’t cry this time.”
He raised his head and gazed down at the small figure curled up beside him as she slowly nodded off to sleep. “Yes, Maya. I am very proud,” he whispered into her ear as a single tear ran slowly down his cheek.
Chapter 6
An abundance of chatter and movement coming from outside her tent awakened Citera the next morning. Wondering what all the ruckus was about, she tossed the covers off her body and groaned as a barrage of bright light overwhelmed her senses. After taking a moment to allow her eyes to adjust, Citera sat up on the edge of her bed and glanced to the opposite corner where her father’s and Dirik’s beds were located, and wasn’t the least bit surprised to find them both empty. Stumbling to her feet, she dragged her leaden legs across the floor to the wash basin and scooped up a handful of cold water. The moment the frigid wetness hit her face, she gasped as her mind snapped to attention. The exhibition! Panicked at the thought of missing any part of the rare gathering, Citera hurriedly brushed her hair and dressed before dashing into the growing crowd outside; already making their way down toward the Pit.
She had made it about midway to the Core when she heard someone calling her name from behind her. Turning, she spotted Sara sprinting up the path in her direction. “Citera, it’s so exciting,” Sara exclaimed, nearly bowling her over. “I love exhibitions and this time I get to be in one!”
“Really?” Citera squealed. “Oh my stars! That is exciting, congratulations!”
The news had Citera both surprised and excited for her young friend. She had known Sara was really good at her jumps, but she must have been even better than she thought if K had asked her to be a part of the exhibition.
“Yes, K asked me this morning,” Sara answered, bouncing with excitement. “And I even heard she is going to take part in a match herself.”
Suddenly Citera found herself in a much bigger hurry to get to the Pit. Exhibitions were rare enough occurrences, but one in which K actually planned to participate herself, well that was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Together she and Sara hurried down the path, weaving their way through the hoard of people all heading the same direction. Somewhere around the Core, Dirik suddenly appeared out of nowhere and together the three of them made it to the Pit in record time.
After climbing the stairs into the stands, Sara spotted Rigar and her mom off to the side and waved bye to Citera and Dirik. The two of them then turned their attention to the nearly full benches, in hopes of finding a seat. After several minutes of searching they spotted a couple of empty seats close to the top where they had a clear view of the entire arena.
“Where is your dad?” Dirik asked once they had gotten settled.
“I suppose he is at the clinic. He was already gone when I woke up this morning,” Citera answered as she scanned the Pit below for any signs of K. “He doesn’t like to come to these things.”
“Yeah I know,” Dirik agreed, then glancing at something behind her, added, “Hey, do you know who those guys are?”
Citera followed his gaze to a group of three men sitting off to one corner behind everyone else. They appeared to be trying to avoid drawing any unwanted attention, however they were failing miserably. Long brown cloaks hung loosely from their bodies in a pitiful attempt to conceal the brightly colored patterns of their clothing that shined out from underneath them. Couple that with the usually large amounts of jewelry in their ears and on every finger of their hands, the three of them stood out worse than the Enforcer would have on any given day.
“I don’t know them, but I have seen them before in the medical tent,” Citera answered, watching as the three of them chatted amongst themselves while intently focused on the surrounding activity. “I think they are the ones who get the supplies Jaron needs from the other side of the border.”
“Is that where they come from?” Dirik asked, virtually drooling over the poorly hid jewelry. “They definitely aren’t from around here with all that gold and silver.”
Citera laughed. “Don’t even think about it. If you rob Jaron’s only means of getting supplies, especially formula, he will hang you from a tree by your toes.”
Just then a hush fell over the crowd around them. Citera looked down into the Pit and watched as K walked out into the center dressed once again in her black leather sparring gear. “Ladies and gentleman, thank you for joining us this morning. Today for your benefit and pleasure we are holding an exhibition of skills, to demonstrate firsthand the abilities each and every one of you already possess. With the exception of Tyran and a couple others, everyone you will see preforming here today are normal Full-bloods and Terrians, who have worked extremely hard to perfect their talents” As she spoke, Tyran and Jaron came out and joined her at her side. “We do this only to make you aware of the skills the Shadows have kept hidden from you and to let you know that training is available here at the Pit for anyone who is interested, regardless of race or sex.”
“But is not a requirement,” Tyran added quickly, his booming voice echoing off the stone walls. “We force no one to participate against their will. We only want to make you aware that the training is available to you if you choose to take advantage of it.”
“And with that said,” Jaron waved his hand in a circular motion high above his head, “let the exhibition begin.”
The crowd erupted in applause as Sara and three other Full-blood girls appeared on the ledges of each of the jumping towers surrounding them. In unison, they all dove off the platforms and preformed a variety of acrobatic spins and flips before landing safely on the dirt floor below. They then raced to the center of the Pit, grabbed brightly colored cloths from a table there, and dashed to opposing towers. Two of the girls scrambled up the sides of their towers wrapping them with the brightly colored cloths from the base to top. But not Sara. Citera watched amazed and proud as Sara and one of the other girls not only leaped back up, but leapt past the diving board, to the pointed top above, where they each attached a brightly colored flag.
“What is that?” Dirik yelled over the roar of the crowd, “I’ve never seen that symbol before.”
Citera remained silent. Eyes locked on the flags and the symbols embroidered with gold thread into their fabric. She had seen it only once before, but it was an image that remained engrained in her memory. A circle encased inside an upside down triangle, with what most would mistake to be a teardrop in the center. However, Citera knew otherwise; because it was the same mark she had seen branded on K’s back in Vicaris. Only then the bright red color of the tear drop shape, standing out against her pale white skin, had made it more than clear that it wasn’t a tear at all, but in all actuality a drop of blood.
“Citera, did you hear me, what do you think that means?”
“I don’t know,” she answered quietly. It wasn’t actually a lie, she didn’t know what it stood for, but as she stared up at the banners flapping high above them in the wind, Citera began to feel a bit uneasy.
Far below the towers, the rest of the exhibition began. They started by showing the new Full-bloods the basics. Several of the men did things like split logs and lift a variety of heavy objects to exhibit their strength, while a few others did a round of exercises that displayed their increased speed and agility. Even Sara and couple of her friends were brought back out to demonstrate how even the young, not yet mature, could be taught to use these particular gifts.
Once the basics were covered the real show began. Tyran, and a team of his best archers from both races, began by showing off their shooting skills. It was amazing to watch how in something like archery, where brute strength wasn’t needed, that the Terrians could manage to keep up with their much stronger counter parts, easily matching, if not exceeding their skills.
Following archery they moved quickly to knife throwing, then to hand-to-hand combat. This part really caught her attention as she watched Terrians matched against Full-bloods hold their ground usin
g the appropriate techniques and movements to counter act the Full-bloods strength and speed.
Then finally it came time for the event they had all been waiting for, weapons combat. It began with a few small preliminary matches pitting Terrian against Terrian, then Full-blood against Full-blood. After the lighter bouts were complete, Tyran stepped into the ring decked out in his sparring gear. Citera leaned forward on the edge of her seat, thinking surely this would be the one K would be fighting in. But much to her disappointment a man, an elder Full-blood also from the resistance, entered the ring alongside him.
“This should be good,” Dirik said excitedly. “I wish Jaron hadn’t banned me from betting on these fights.”
“He banned you?” Citera laughed.
“Yeah, he told me at the party last night that betting on the exhibition was off limits,” Dirik huffed and crossed his arms. “Said they were meant to be educational, not a means of making quick dinar.”
“He’s right,” Citera chuckled, regaining control of herself. She looked into the Pit where Tyran was about to begin the fight. “Although I had kind of hoped K would be fighting today.” She sighed. “But I guess that rumor wasn’t true because there is no one else here who is even a match for her except Tyran.”
“K?” Dirik said laughing, “I would actually pay to see that match.”
Citera shrugged and they both returned their attention to the exhibition below. Tyran and the man began their battle, and the sounds of their swords clashing together filled the stadium all the way up to the bleachers. It was a fierce competition and even more exciting than the one she had seen him fight with K a few days before, probably because it was more evenly matched. They attacked and defended against one another in a blur of movement, making use of the entire arena. It lasted for nearly twenty minutes, until the man fighting against Tyran made a mistake and missed a block. Tyran, too skilled a fighter not to take advantage of such an opening, had the poor man knocked to the ground with his sword at his throat before he knew what had happened. Knowing he was done, the competitor raised his hands, signaling the end of the battle. Smiling, Tyran sheathed his sword and reached down to help his friend back to his feet while the audience as a whole erupted in cheer. They each took turns bowing, bruised but otherwise unscathed, then turned and made their way from the arena.
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