The Lost Prophecy

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The Lost Prophecy Page 21

by Marjorie Lindsey


  “Just relax, Bokk, and don’t try any funny stuff with your voice. One sound I don’t like and I will cut you.”

  My heart was thumping and my breath was jerky. She was volatile and could strike without warning. I didn’t understand why she’d released my gag, other than perhaps to talk. “Why are you doing this, Calia?”

  She climbed off me but kept pressure on her knife. She quickly glanced at the others.

  Zora and the giant had earlier moved to the wheelhouse. Zora lay on a bench, still and quiet in her cloak. The giant sat talking with Fislet at the front of the boat.

  Calia turned to me and shrugged. “I already told you. The Genetrix has promised me eternal youth.”

  “So you agreed to bring me to Prima Feminary in exchange.”

  “I didn’t have to. You’re here because you wanted to come, to rescue your mother.” She tapped her knife against my breast. “What you don’t know is that she’s already dead.” A sly smile accompanied her cruel words.

  I heard the lie in her tone, but the words were still difficult to hear. “I can help you, Calia.”

  She answered with derision. “You’re in no position to help anyone.” She lowered her knife. I felt the point press my side as she watched the others. “Soon, you’ll all be my prisoners. The Genetrix will be pleased.”

  What were my options? My voice was still weak. If I overpowered Calia, I still had to contend with the others. I blanched at the thought of jumping into the water. In the dark, in the middle of nowhere I trembled at the thought of a watery death. Better to wait for an escape opportunity once we landed.

  I shifted my body to relieve the numbness in my limbs. Lifting a hand to my necklace, I focused on healing my throat. I had to be ready.

  Calia stayed close. She gave me a hard jab when Fislet emerged from the wheelhouse. Behind him, Zora and the giant held onto the housing as the waves tossed the vessel.

  “We’re almost at the cave,” said Fislet. “The opening is shallow and narrow. The winds are up. We’ll have to use the poles to keep us away from the rocks. ” He quickly returned with several lengths of wood.

  Zora motioned to the giant. “You heard him. Grab one.”

  “We need everyone to help,” said Fislet, staring at Zora, who then glanced at us.

  “Don’t move. Pretend to be sick.” Calia reinforced the order with another jab. “I won’t hesitate to give you a quick death if you try anything.”

  I groaned and writhed while Calia lay inert beside me.

  “They can’t help. They’re sick,” yelled Fislet. “You’ll have to do it.”

  Zora finally grabbed a pole, all the time sneering at the boatman and calling him names.

  Secure in his position, Fislet grinned and yelled back at her. “Stop your bitching and get to work or we’ll all end up dead.”

  Ocean water that had been calm in the crossing now lashed white against the rock walls. I sat up but couldn’t see the cave opening until we were upon it. The boat tilted, forcing the sides precariously close to jagged outcrops. At the first scrape, the giant shoved hard with his pole. We were almost through the opening when I heard a wrenching crack. The boat twisted as the stern snagged a rock. I tumbled to the hard deck. Calia lay sprawled beside me but quickly rolled over and thrust her knife against my side.

  Fislet and the giant pried the vessel free.

  Zora threw down her pole and straightened her clothing. She stood tall and imperious as the boat drifted forward through the rock opening. As if suddenly remembering us, she called to the giant. “Get them up.”

  As the giant approached, I jumped to my feet and dropped my head. The others hadn’t noticed my missing gag.

  Calia pretended to stagger then grabbed my legs, collapsing to her knees as she stabbed her knife against my thigh. Could I kick her over and get the knife? What good would it be with my hands bound?

  Inside, the cave glowed with an eerie luminescence. Across the dark water, a rocky plateau protruded from the cave wall just above wave height. Several dinghies bobbed gently along its length. Other than the faint sound of trickling water, there was no activity. The cave was empty.

  “Nobody home.” The giant grinned but his face quickly altered when a high-pitched whine briefly split the air.

  Harsh lights flooded the plateau like a stage, illuminating a steep stone staircase. In the silence I heard the low rumble of sliding rock. As the wall at the top of the staircase opened, I held my breath.

  Calia jumped to her feet and moved toward the edge of the boat. The giant slapped her and she tumbled into the nets, but was soon up again.

  Into a spotlight stepped the Genetrix. Shimmering in her gold juba, she slowly descended. With each step, more of her minions rushed onto the stage taking their positions in the spectacle. I watched in amazement as the plateau filled with jubas in every color. After several moments, I noticed the ones that I feared the most—the purple ones.

  As we neared the plateau, I panicked. Was it too late? Could I make an escape into the water? The thought was terrifying. Where would I swim? It was impossible. The only option was to use my voice, but was it strong enough? If it worked, it would stun Fislet, the giant, Zora and Calia, but would it have any effect on the Genetrix and her people?

  I was out of time.

  As Fislet’s boat nudged the seawall, I closed my eyes and opened my mouth to sing. I felt my breath strain against tender vocal cords, but no sound came out. I heard a high-pitched tone followed by a subtle pressure, as if hands were squeezing my throat. I slumped to the deck.

  “What’s happening?” Zora’s tone was frantic. “Someone help her!”

  The pressure waned. I gasped and inhaled deeply. Several more deep breaths followed.

  The Genetrix spoke to Zora. “You’re a brave woman to bring her with no gag.”

  I looked up at the Genetrix who stood at the edge of the plateau, surrounded by her assassins.

  Zora looked confused at first until she glanced at me. “Who did this?” She cast a look at Fislet then the giant.

  “I did.” Calia rose to her feet without difficulty. “They’re all yours now, my Genetrix. You remember our agreement.” Her confidence belied her ragged appearance.

  The Genetrix laughed.

  Zora stepped from the boat. “I don’t know what she means, but we also have a deal. I brought you the singer in exchange for my sister’s freedom. That one,” she pointed to Calia, “is a bonus for you, if you want her.” She signaled to the giant. “Bring them up here.”

  Calia almost leaped onto the plateau and sidled toward the Genetrix. The giant grabbed my arm and pulled me onto the rock beside Zora.

  “Cut her free,” ordered the Genetrix. “She can’t escape.”

  One of the assassins slipped from the circle and cut my bonds. I rubbed my aching wrists and arms as I glanced at the Genetrix, who stood like a statue.

  Zora lost patience. “Where is my sister?” She searched the faces around her. “We want to leave before the tide comes in.” She looked at Fislet, alone in his vessel. “Get the boat ready.”

  An assassin handed the Genetrix a small sac. She tossed it to Fislet. “You have more than earned your payment today. You may go now. Take the big one with you.”

  Fislet tucked the reward into his coat pocket.

  The giant growled at the Genetrix. Her assassins moved toward him.

  “Do something, you oaf,” demanded Zora. “You can’t leave me here. I’m you Mistress.”

  Fislet started the engine. As he pulled the boat away from the plateau, the giant gave Zora one last glance then jumped into the stern.

  “Get back here, traitor!” Zora’s faced turned purple as she heaped abuse on the big man, only stopping when the boat disappeared into the darkness.

  “Well, Zora” said the Genetrix in a silken voice. “It appears that you are now alone, but not for long. You can keep your sister company.” She flicked a long-nailed finger. “Take her.”

  As Zora yelle
d about her deal, two assassins dragged her away.

  I saw fear on Calia’s face when the Genetrix approached her. She cringed in supplication. “What about me? I did what you asked. I brought her to you. Zora didn’t really trap her, I did.” When the Genetrix looked pensive, Calia became demanding. “You promised me eternal youth. I want to stay young forever.”

  I sensed the scorn in the Genetrix’s tone. “And you will, my dear. You’ll stay as you are for evermore.” She raised her fingers again. Two minions rushed forward. “Take care of her.” She looked at Calia. “We’ll discuss your future later. They’ll look after you for now.”

  Calia glanced at me. Her expression flickered between uncertainty and fear.

  “Take her,” commanded the Genetrix. “I have more important matters to attend to.”

  With Zora and Calia gone, I felt the intensity of the Genetrix’s gaze as it settled on me.

  I thought of Mother, wondering if I had any chance of rescuing her.

  Had I really come all this way, only to fail?

  I closed my eyes and recalled Mother’s words.

  Your voice is your power.

  Her favorite melody floated through my mind. I started to hum.

  I pressed my chest when my necklace started to vibrate. I opened my eyes and hummed louder. The lights pulsed as the stone chamber reverberated with harmonic sounds. The rock echoed back to me—as if singing—responding to every note.

  A low rumble preceded a tremor. It shook the plateau, but unlike the others around me, I didn’t cower. I sensed my voice had awakened a latent power. Perhaps there was still hope.

  The Genetrix glanced around her. Her eyebrows narrowed as her eyes met mine.

  “Silence.” She emitted a high note.

  I felt pressure on my windpipe and stopped humming.

  She groped her side. It was then I noticed a pouch, like Calia’s, jutting from a fold in her golden juba. Her little finger emerged, dusted with powder. She pressed the drug to her nostril and sniffed. White residue fluttered in the air. Her eyelids shuttered as she shook her head. When they opened again, they were wild and maniacal.

  Her palm pressed the flashing stone on her necklace. After a deep breath, she signaled to her purple-robed assassins, who immediately encircled me.

  She stepped through the circle and broke into crazed laughter.

  It echoed eerily in the chamber before fading into a disturbing stillness.

  Her next words held a menace that sent shivers hurtling down my spine.

  “I’ve been expecting you, Brynna Bokk.”

  BRYNNA’S ADVENTURE CONTINUES IN THE GENETRIX STONE,

  THE FALCON CHRONICLES BOOK 3.

  REVIEWS are important to authors and much appreciated. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon or Goodreads.

  What Amazon Reviewers wrote about The Last Singer: The Falcon Chronicles Book 1.

  …lots of plot twists and turns to keep you reading

  …a creative and gripping tale of a courageous…young woman

  …adventure and intrigue…set in a vivid futuristic world

  THE FALCON CHRONICLES NEWS

  Please click here to sign up for the latest news about special book offers and for details about THE GENETRIX STONE – The Falcon Chronicles Book 3.

  Or visit my website (MarjorieLindsey.com)

  Copyright © 2018 by MARJORIE LINDSEY

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The Lost Prophecy is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Book cover copyright Marjorie Lindsey

  ISBN 978-1-988787-02-2 (ebook)

  ISBN 978-1-988787-03-9 (print)

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to my husband for his constant love and support.

  Thanks to my friend/author Jacqui for her sharing spirit.

  Thank you to Joan for her 11th hour input!

  Also thanks to Alan, Therese, Julia and other friends/readers for their valuable feedback.

  Finally, thank you to my editor Laura for her professional insights and guidance.

  About the Author

  Marjorie’s new book The Lost Prophecy is the second in her teen/young adult series The Falcon Chronicles.

  You can find her first book The Last Singer on Amazon.

  For further information:

  www.marjorielindsey.com

  [email protected]

 

 

 


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