Once we’re underway, I rack my brains for an elder I can trust. Over the years, Parthelon worked hard to get them on his side and to paint me in a bad light at every opportunity. Now when I need them most, they may not be willing to cross him. I grimace, picturing the disapproval on their faces at my many misadventures. Regardless, I should reach out to them. At the very least, they owe me the truth about what happened to my father.
The marketplace is still deserted by the time we get back. This time we will need to cross to the other side to reach the old section of the settlement. I study the shadowy outlines of stalls, wagons, and barrels—familiar landmarks indicating my path across the marketplace. The Mauler guards on the corners are my only real obstacles. I stiffen when the guard on the corner closest to us shifts his stance and yells to his companions. “I’m starved. When’s our food gonna be here?”
“Should be here any time now,” a rough voice shouts back to him.
The guard glances around before yawning loudly and leaning back against the wall. I can’t make out his features clearly, but the darkness only makes his hulking figure even more intimidating. Even Phin would struggle to take a beast like him down in hand-to-hand combat.
“We’re going to have to sneak across the marketplace between the stalls,” I say to the others. “But we need to be careful. We can’t let the Mauler guards know we’re here.” I grit my teeth and add, “Yet.”
“We’ll never be able to reach the stalls unless we take out the guard closest to us,” Velkan whispers.
“I could put a knife in his heart from here,” Ghil says, a dubious tone in his voice.
“Too risky in the dark. If you miss, we’ll be discovered.” Phin eyes the roof of the hut we’re huddled behind. “I could climb up on this roof and drop down on him. He won’t hear a thing and he won’t see me coming.”
I hesitate. “Better make sure of it. You won’t get a second chance.”
“The other guards might hear the scuffle,” Ghil says, furrowing his brow.
“You’ll need to drag the body behind the hut so they don’t spot it,” Velkan adds. “And that will leave a blood trail.”
I cast a glance around the marketplace. There must be a better way to do this. Trying to kill the Mauler guard without alerting his companions is a huge risk. The odds are not in our favor. My eye falls on the medicine hut a few doors down from where we are standing. The medicine woman, Nalkryie, keeps vials of sand sniper toxin on hand for the antidote she makes. If we could find a way to add it to the guard’s food, we could eliminate him without leaving a trail.
“I have an idea,” I whisper to the others. “The medicine hut is close by. I can grab a vial of sand sniper venom from the shelves. Once the guard’s food arrives, you distract him while I add the venom to his food.”
Phin nods his approval. “It’s worth a try.”
“I’ll go with you,” Velkan says. We wait for a few seconds to make sure no one’s coming before darting down the alley to Nalkryie’s hut. “Keep an eye out for patrols while I’m inside,” I say to Velkan.
He nods and takes up a position concealed in the shadows where he can see anyone coming or going in either direction.
I drop silently through the window opening, landing with a soft thud, and listen for a moment to make sure no one’s stirring. Nalkryie is older than my father, but her hearing and eyesight are as sharp as an owl’s. Heart fluttering in my throat, I pad soundlessly across the room to the back wall of shelves brimming with vials and herbs and peculiar-smelling potions. In the shadows, it’s hard to read the labels, but I’m familiar with where everything is kept—my father was keen for me to learn the ways of Cweltan medicine, and I’ve spent many hours working alongside Nalkryie.
My fingers curl around a vial of sand sniper venom just as a bony hand grips my arm like pincers. I let out a yelp and spin to see Nalkryie, wild spirals of silver hair shooting out from her head, eyes glittering reproof in the moonlight.
“Trattora?” She gasps, eying me from all angles before she releases me. “What are you … where—”
My heart races. I grip Nalkryie’s shoulders and pull her closer. “Never mind that now. What happened to my parents?”
She purses her shriveled lips and sinks down on a stool behind her. “Parthelon ordered your father’s execution.”
I scrunch my eyes shut and swallow down the acid rising from my stomach. I can’t allow myself to grieve now. I must channel every emotion inside me to the mission at hand. “And my mother?” I ask, unable to keep a tremor from my voice.
Nalkryie hesitates before fixing a sad gaze on me. “Parthelon always lusted after your mother. I fear he intends to wed her after the official period of mourning is over.”
A rod of anger shoots up my spine. “Where is he holding her?” I choke the words out.
Nalkryie shakes her head. “I don’t know. The surviving elders remain tight-lipped about everything. They fear Parthelon and his strong ties with the Maulers.”
“I don’t fear him, or his conniving ways,” I retort. “I’ll find my mother with or without the elders’ help.”
Nalkyrie draws her unruly silver brows together. “How did you pass by the patrols?”
I contemplate my response for a moment. I need at least one ally on Cwelt. If the elders won’t help me, maybe Nalkryie will. My father trusted her, and I trust my father’s judgement. “Swear to me you’ll tell no one you saw me and I’ll tell you everything.”
“I swear by the sacred triangle,” Nalkryie replies solemnly.
“I came in a Syndicate ship equipped with cloaking technology. I’m not alone. Buir returned with me, along with Sarth’s former serf, and three other friends, including the Fleet Commander’s daughter. I’m going to find a way to depose Parthelon, and after that we’ll figure out how to liberate Cwelt from the Maulers.”
Nalkryie rubs a wizened hand across her forehead and purses her lips. “It won’t be easy. Parthelon has the full support of the Mauler overlord. He moves among them like one of their own.”
“If I can persuade the elders to side with me, I can succeed,” I say. “I am my father’s rightful heir.”
“That you are.” Nalkryie sighs and eyes the vial I’m still clutching. “What do you need the venom for?”
“To poison a guard so we can cross the marketplace safely. We’ll find a way to distract him and add it to his food.”
Nalkryie gets to her feet and rummages at the back of a shelf before pulling out a gooseneck skin bottle. “They will realize the food was poisoned and blame the servants who brought it. Squirt him with it instead. It will kill him instantly. The Maulers will think a sniper spat the venom at him.” She holds the skin bottle out to me.
I take it and squeeze her hand gratefully. “Thank you, Nalkryie.”
She studies me for a moment, a sober expression on her face. “What you are planning—going up against the Maulers—may end up costing the lives of every Cweltan. Perhaps a price too great to pay in the eyes of the elders. Do not expect them to support you, rightful heir or not.”
I chew on my lip as I consider her words. “You may be right, but surely they will at least help me rescue my mother. Who among them would stand by and watch her be wed unwillingly to Parthelon?”
Nalkryie’s stony silence is enough to confirm my worst fear. Somehow Parthelon got his claws into them. I will need to be careful which of the elders I approach. It must be one of my father’s longest-serving elders, someone I know my father trusted long before Parthelon rose through the ranks.
“I’ll go to Marph,” I say, slinging the skin bottle over my shoulder. “He loved my mother like a sister. He’ll tell me where she is.”
Nalkryie sets her lips into a tight line. She reaches behind her, pulls out a shramskin robe and thrusts it at me. “Keep your hair covered. Trust no one.”
“Thank you again, Nalkryie, for everything.” I jump down from the window into the dirt next to Velkan. “Got the vial!” I whisper,
tugging him to his feet. “Nalkryie is with us.”
Velkan wipes his nose discreetly on his sleeve before turning to me. “Good, that makes for one safe house on Cwelt at least.”
My stomach knots. “You’re bleeding again!”
“It was just a drip.” He grabs my hand and breaks into a run before I can argue with him. The icy fear that something is terribly wrong grips me again. I should have asked Nalkryie about Velkan’s nosebleeds, but it didn’t occur to me in the moment.
When we get back to the others, I pull out the vial of venom and pour it into the skin while explaining Nalkryie’s idea about spraying the Mauler with a concentrated dose of venom. “It will look like a sand sniper got him and they won’t suspect foul play.”
“I’ll do it,” Phin says. “If it doesn’t work for some reason, I can drop down from the roof and finish him off.”
He takes the gooseneck skin bottle I hand him and salutes us before scaling the wall of the hut like a shadowy spider. Velkan, Ghil and I watch as he approaches the Mauler guard from above. He flattens himself on the roof and eases forward until he hangs suspended over the edge, skin bottle in hand. Seconds later, the stocky Mauler crumples to the ground with a dull thud. Phin retreats to the back of the roof and scrambles back down.
Glancing around one last time to make sure the coast is clear, we slip quietly between the market stalls and cross to the other side before disappearing behind the back of the nearest hut.
“This way!” I dive down a tree-lined side street leading to the upscale quiet neighborhood where most of the elders’ residences are located. I pass several of the elders’ houses before halting outside Marph’s house. I hope my instincts are right about him. He and his family have broken bread with us at our home many times, and I know my mother has a soft spot for him and his wife. If anyone would be disgusted at the idea of Parthelon forcing my mother to wed him, it would be Marph.
“Wait for me in that copse of trees,” I say to the others. I push the window shutters aside and wriggle through the opening at the back of the house. Once inside, I make my way to the sleeping quarters where Marph is snoring gently on a bed of shramskins next to his wife. I kneel at his side and shake him hard. He wakes with a start and sits bolt upright.
“Marph, it’s me, Trattora!” I whisper.
He blinks at me, comprehension slowly replacing the confusion in his eyes. He gets to his feet and lights a lamp, holding it by my hair to verify it’s really me. His face pales, and he throws a hesitant glance at his sleeping wife, before pulling me out of the room and back down the hallway to a seating area.
“How did you get here?” he whispers.
I wave a hand dismissively. “That’s not important now. Where are my parents?”
A troubled look settles in the folds of his face.
I grab his sleeve. “Please, Marph, I need to know the truth.”
He drops his gaze and lets out a heavy sigh. “Your father was executed for treason.”
A prickly lump forms in my throat. All this time I held out hope that the rumor of my father’s execution was a terrible mistake, that the elders knew all along Parthelon was lying, and relented on my father’s sentencing. My hand begins to shake and I let go of Marph’s robe. “My father didn’t sell us out to the Maulers,” I say with as much conviction as I can muster. “He loved Cwelt.”
Marph shakes his head in a bewildered fashion. “He was in charge when the Maulers invaded and began mining.”
“That’s because Parthelon betrayed him and struck a deal with the Maulers behind his back.” I throw myself at Marph and beat my fists on his chest. “The elders should have executed Parthelon!”
Marph grabs my wrists and pushes me away. “Sssh! You’ll wake my wife.”
“What about my mother?” I ask, blinking furiously as fresh tears well up in my eyes. “Is she dead too?”
Marph looks contemplative for a moment. “She’s hiding at my sister’s house across the street. Wait here, and stay out of sight. No one can know you’re here. I’ll bring her to you.”
“Thank you, Marph,” I choke out, tears trickling freely down my cheeks.
He turns and exits the room without another word. I listen to the sound of his footsteps descending the front steps, and then sink down on a chair, my heart fluttering with bittersweet anticipation. My father is dead! I can’t begin to imagine the pain my sweet mother suffered at Parthelon’s hands, or how much she begged him to spare my father’s life.
When I hear footsteps approaching the front door a few minutes later, I jump up to greet her.
I come to a screeching halt when I see who is smiling down at me from the doorway.
21
I stumble backward, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. In the light of the lantern swinging from his hand, Parthelon towers over me, more imposing and magnificent than I remember him. His silver hair ripples over his shoulders, and he flaunts a new swagger in his stride as he bears down on me, flanked by two Cweltan guards, and trailed by the elders. His eyes are calculating, filled with undiluted hatred, his lips as pinched and bloodless as ever.
“So, the reprobate daughter returns to face justice at last.” He cocks a brow and looks around for approval at the elders who followed him and the guards inside. They nod stiffly, the shock of seeing me again etched in their expressions.
Parthelon looks me slowly up and down, holding the lantern at arm’s length as he inspects my attire. The disapproving curl of his lip tells me I’m every bit the disheveled mess I feel. Hardly a sight to inspire the elders to rally behind me in a time of crisis.
“I must admit, that was quite the feat you pulled off,” Parthelon drawls. “Slipping past the Maulers’ patrols undetected. Do tell us your secret weapon.” He whispers the word weapon so quietly I almost miss it. My heartbeat pounds mercilessly in my chest. Did the cloaking technology fail? Has the stealth fighter been discovered?
I swallow hard and find my voice at last. “What did you do to your chieftain?”
Parthelon’s face darkens at the mention of him. “I am chieftain now. Your father was executed for treason.”
The words knife through me like ice shards. The confirmation from Parthelon’s own lips that my father is dead is almost too painful to bear. A tiny gasp escapes me. “I swear by the sacred triangle you will pay for this, Parthelon. My father was a loyal Cweltan. He loved his planet and he would have laid down his life for it before he ever betrayed it.”
Parthelon pulls his lips into a patronizing smile. “Yet, he struck a deal with the Maulers forcing us to live as slaves on our own planet, while they trade our dargonite for advanced weaponry that only strengthens their plundering might. I negotiated the best possible terms for our servitude. Were it not for me, every man, woman, and child on Cwelt would have had their tongues cut out into the bargain.”
I take a step toward him, but the guards grasp my arms before I reach him. I shake myself loose and turn on them enraged. “How dare you lay a hand on me! I am the rightful heir to my father’s seat.”
Parthelon throws back his head and laughs. “Have you forgotten that you abandoned your people and left them to their fate while I stayed here and fought with the resistance until your father sold us out?” He cracks his knuckles and stares coldly at me. “You have no rights here anymore. Cwelt elected me to rule in your father’s place. I work hard to ensure that our people are given the fairest possible terms by the Maulers. I earned the title of chieftain, a position you were never qualified for to begin with.”
He snaps his fingers and the two guards grab my arms again, more firmly this time.
“Take her to the retribution hut. She will face charges of desertion in the morning,” Parthelon growls.
“Where is my mother?” I yell as I struggle with the guards.
Disdain oozes from Parthelon’s pores as he steps closer. “She is not your mother, and you are not her spawn. You are nothing more than a piece of freeloading scum she rescued from tr
aders, and from now on, you will be treated as such.”
Without waiting for me to respond, he turns and sweeps from the room.
I wriggle, desperate to free myself, but this time the guards don’t let go of me.
My eyes dart around the room and settle on Marph skulking behind the other elders in a dark corner. He frowns under my penetrating stare and averts his gaze like the coward he is.
“You betrayed me to my father’s murderer,” I scream at him. “You should bow your head in shame. You deserve to go to your grave in disgrace.”
The other elders remain tight-lipped as the guards march me past them and out into the night. At least a dozen armed Maulers stand watch outside the hut. Evidently, Parthelon has been given protection, as well as power. My heart thunders wildly in my chest. So many fears are flitting through my head that I can’t string together a coherent thought. Has Ayma been captured? What will happen to Buir now? Velkan and the others must have heard everything that went down, but there’s nothing they can do to intervene against so many Maulers.
Hot angry thoughts of everything I’d like to do to Parthelon scorch a path through my brain as the guards march me out of the settlement and along the dusty road to the retribution hut. My eyes sting as I blink back salty tears. The irony of it is that this is where it all began, when I intervened to save Velkan’s life. Now, I’m the one who needs rescuing from the retribution hut.
My throat tightens as I struggle not to cry. My father is dead, and my mother would be better off dead, faced with the horror of being wedded to Parthelon. I scrunch my eyes shut at the thought of the additional pain that awaits her once she learns of my fate. I wonder if Parthelon will even permit me to see her one last time before my execution.
A lone tear rolls down my cheek, and before long my face is slick with silent tears. The only hope I harbor is that Ayma has managed to remain undiscovered, and that Velkan, Phin, and Ghil somehow make it back to the stealth fighter safely. Without the support of the elders, they will never be able to vindicate themselves to the Syndicate and prove that Parthelon is to blame for the Fleet Commander’s death. They will live out the rest of their lives as fugitives in the Netherscape. I let out a defeated sigh. And Buir will be forced to live out her days as a slave to the Maulers. Ghil can’t go back for her now.
Girl of Blood: A Science Fiction Dystopian Novel (The Expulsion Project Book 3) Page 16