Broken Aro (The Broken Ones)

by Wylie, Jen

  Memories of her brothers came again and panic made her breath catch. Tears burned her eyes and she blinked furiously, hoping to keep them away. Trying to forget, to distract herself, she spoke, "So you're a prince."

  "Yes." Short answer.

  She peeked over at him to see if he was angry because of her question, but he didn't appear to be. His gaze remained raised to the continued sounds up above.

  "Do you have a crown?" Immediately she regretted asking such a foolish question.

  "Yes." He smiled slightly. "But I didn't bring it with me."

  She smiled before she could help herself. "Do you have a white horse?"

  He chuckled. She loved the sound of it. "Yes. I've a number of horses at home. My favorite is the black though."

  She found herself liking him. Even if he was a prince. "Do you have a princess? I mean," she floundered, "are you married?" Not a bad question, he looked old enough he could be. Though really, she couldn't tell his age. His features seemed grown up, but at the same time she'd noticed his face wasn't covered with days' worth of stubble like the other men.

  "No," he said more quietly than he'd answered before.

  "Were you looking for one? Is that why you've been traveling?"

  He looked down at her and though he smiled, it was a tight smile. "No. Just traveling."

  She looked down at her knees and picked at a worn spot on her pants. From his tone he was done with her questions. "I always wanted to travel," she said quietly. "But not like this."

  "Yes, I know," he whispered.

  She wasn't sure exactly what he meant, other than he understood her. It was enough. She didn't ask any more questions. Sometimes silence was better.

  * * *

  Somehow she managed to fall asleep. When she woke, the sun had risen. The noise still continued loudly above.

  "The Navy is still chasing us," Prince said, before she could even wake up enough to think to ask. Happily, he didn't seem to be angry with her for the questions she'd asked the day before.

  "Great," she said, forcing a smile that didn't last very long.

  They sat in silence as the day wore on, tensing when the ship would turn suddenly and shouts would echo from above.

  Prince's voice suddenly startled her. "I think we've outrun them."

  She looked over at him where he leaned against the ship's hull, his head tilted back slightly, eyes closed. "That's good right?"

  "Better than getting sunk," he said wryly.

  True. Did Prince have a sense of humor? That would be strange. "Will they catch up with us again?"

  Prince shrugged.

  "How long does it take to get to port?"

  Prince pursed his lips slightly in thought. "Ten to fifteen days I'd think, depending on the weather and the winds."

  She nodded slightly, and frowned. She had no idea how long they'd been at sea. Of course she had no idea how long she'd been unconscious either. She looked up toward the hatch. It looked like it was getting dark again. "How long have we been at sea?"

  He glanced over at her. "This was the fourth day."

  So it was almost night, and four days. She must have been out a while. No wonder she felt like she hadn't eaten in a month. Her stomach hurt. Water at least wasn't a problem, buckets hung by the cell door. They were filled every once in a while. There was another bucket, too. She'd embarrassingly had to use it a few times. At least the rolling sea had its advantages; she wasn't the only one who sat to use it.

  She ducked her head suddenly as a few of the slavers came down the ladder with their lanterns and started peering into the cells, checking on them all.

  She held herself as still as she could, arms still wrapped around her knees, trembling with both the effort to try to be invisible and in fear of those who had chained her. Her heart began pounding in her chest so hard she thought it might burst. Tears started to well in her eyes and run down her cheeks. She fought the urge to sob hysterically.

  Prince's hand suddenly rested gently on her shoulder. He didn't say anything, but for some reason, after a moment, she wasn't quite so scared. She was almost…calm. Everything would turn out just fine his hand seemed to say. It allowed her to push the hysteria away, to think. She had to stay calm and hidden. She had to survive this.

  She sucked in a deep breath, and regretted it a moment later. The hold wasn't smelling any nicer as the days passed. She choked on a gag and worked on taking little breaths, trying to calm her frantic heart. She kept her face hidden and eyes squeezed closed. She could hear them though as they tromped down the center of the hold taunting their prisoners. They banged on the cell bars, filled the water buckets and emptied the other less pleasant ones. Men cussed and mumbled. Men and women both sobbed. She tried to drown them all out, concentrating on her slowing heart beats, counting them.

  Prince removed his hand slowly. "There. They are gone now," he said quietly.

  She took another small, steadying breath before opening her eyes and peeking over her knees. It had grown darker. Hardly any light remained causing everything to be thrown into shadows. "I hate them," she said without feeling.

  "I, too," Prince replied gravely.

  She leaned back and turned her head to look at him. "How's your arm?"

  "Well enough. How are you feeling?"

  The question surprised her; that he would care. She forced a small smile. "Good, I guess. Considering the situation."

  He regarded her thoughtfully.

  She scowled at him. "What?"

  "I think you are very brave, Aro," he answered, his voice very solemn and serious.

  She stared at him for a long moment. He must have gotten knocked in the head, too. "Brave? I'm not brave. I'm just surviving...and trying not to get caught."

  He shook his head slightly. "Listen."

  She did. She heard the sounds of men and women crying, pleading, and screaming, even after four days. She'd cried, but not like that. Her tears had been silent and hidden in the shadows. She wasn't having hysterics. Maybe that was what he meant? But then, he was a prince, he was used to noble ladies and tittering maids.

  "Thank you. I think," she said. She stumbled over what else to say but looked up and saw Kendric trying to get her attention.

  "Aro, come over here," Kendric said quietly, motioning to a position suddenly open beside him in his circle of men.

  Her stomach clenched and she swallowed quickly, trying to not look afraid or nervous. She wasn't ready to meet everyone else, not at all. But she had to, if there were only a few days left to plan their escape, she had to stop hiding and get ready. She crawled over and took the open space he'd indicated and looked up at him, mostly because she didn't want to look anywhere else.

  He ruffled her hair with a little grin.

  "Bastard." She scowled.

  He chuckled and looked away from her. She forced herself to look at the others, wondering if any of them suspected she wasn't really a boy.

  "Men, this is Aro Mason. I've known him a number of years." He looked down at her again and she clenched her teeth, fighting the urge to hit him.

  Why he was smiling so much? Her eyes narrowed. "What's happened?"

  He chuckled again and grinned at the others, as if making a point. Maybe that she wasn't a complete fool. "From what we've been able to overhear from the slavers, the navy took out four of the slave ships."

  His news shocked her speechless for a moment. They'd been lucky. "And that's good?"

  He stared at her like she was a moron. "Four ships worth of slavers are now at the bottom of the sea."

  Well yes, that was good. But… "I was thinking of the four ships worth of our people down there, too."

  His face sobered. "Ah, Aro…"

  She shrugged and looked around the circle under lowered lashes, quickly checking facial expressions. The smiles and grins were gone. They looked at her with...was it pity? Yes, of course. They knew she hoped her brothers might be on one of those ships. She stared at the floor in front of her. "How many s
lave ships were there to start with?"

  "Only six ships," one of the others said. "The rest had still been loading when we left."

  She looked up at the one who had spoken; the one with the scar on his face. Though his face looked serious now, she still couldn't bring herself to be afraid of him. She had good instincts with that sort of thing. This man was kind.

  Kendric tapped her shoulder. "Meet Bo. He was with the Palace Guard."

  Bo gave her a brief nod.

  "Next to you there is Cain, Jonathan Cain. With the third. Our youngsters here are Avery Brennan," The blond across from her flashed a charming smile. Youngster indeed, he had to be under twenty she'd bet. "And Kei. They were both with the fifth."

  She looked at Kei, who was surprisingly even younger. Not much older than she was from the little she could see of him. Even more surprising was just how different he was from the others. The growing darkness made it difficult to see, but his dress alone set him apart. Where she and the others wore shirts of cotton or wool and leather pants in shades of browns and blues, he wore all leather in a flat black, and his clothes were tight. She had no idea how he could move in such clothing. He didn't even really have on a shirt, but a vest cut so short it displayed half of his torso.

  Kendric elbowed her. "Don't stare."

  She ducked her head quickly as her cheeks flamed. She hadn't even realized she'd been looking for so long.

  "It's fine," Kei said kindly, and she peeked through her hair at him. His voice was surprisingly soft and deep. "He's never seen anyone like me before." He grinned at her, a flash of white perfect teeth.

  Gah, but she wished there was more light. "The problem is I can't see anything at all," she muttered.

  The men of course heard and their response to her complaint ranged from a chuckle to a snort.

  A new sound began, or perhaps it had started earlier and she just hadn't noticed. She looked up as a strange pounding roar filled the hold.

  Bo swore. "Wonder if they headed into the storm we were feeling earlier?"

  "I certainly hope not," Kendric replied tartly.

  The clouds now covered whatever faint light the moon and stars had given them.

  "Well. Let us get some sleep then, before the wind finds us." That was Cain. Or did they say he was supposed to be called Jonathon? John? She should have paid more attention.

  She crawled back a little to lie down in the dirty straw and closed her eyes. She listened to the men settle and the pounding of the rain. Her thoughts spun madly in her head. Were here brothers dead or not? What was she supposed to do now? Eventually the thrum of the rain lulled her into sleep.

  Chapter 5

  The Fey

  She woke with a start.

  Someone was touching her, a feather light caress trailing down her arm. She tensed, sucking in a breath to scream. A hand clamped over her mouth.

  Warm breath suddenly tickled her ear. "It's Kei. Hush."

  Eyes wide, seeing nothing but pitch black, she nodded frantically

  Kei's hand moved from her arm. Frozen in stunned silence, the pounding of the rain echoed through the hold around her. The sound thrummed so loudly she couldn't even hear her own ragged breaths.

  "Sorry."

  "You scared me." The overpowering smell of wet straw overcame her and she gagged. It registered suddenly, her clothes were wet. She grimaced and sat up, the straw squishing under her.

  She heard him sigh. He sat somewhere in front of her, but she couldn't see anything.

  "You were having a nightmare, I think," he said quietly.

  She blinked and cursed under her breath. "Did I wake everyone?" She concentrated, trying to hear if the others were up.

  "No. You weren't screaming. Just thrashing around." He laughed softly. "You kicked me in the head."

  A blush crept up her cheeks, thankfully the darkness hid it. "Oh. I'm sorry."

  "It's fine. I wasn't sleeping much. It's getting wet in here."

  She snorted. "I noticed."

  "Well. Go back to sleep."

  She could hear him moving. What he was doing? "I think I'll just stay up," she said, more to herself than to him.

  "Do you…would you mind if I sat with you?"

  Her eyebrows went up in surprise. Why would he want to? But then again, she didn't know him. He wasn't much older than she was. Maybe he just wanted some company in the darkness. "Sure," she said finally, "If you want."

  She could feel his presence suddenly closer to her, even if she still couldn't see him. He touched her arm, pulling slightly. "Come over to the hull, it's a little higher and not so wet."

  She let him guide her and only bumped into him a few times. He settled next to her, back against the damp wood, staring forward in the darkness.

  "I hate the dark," she murmured.

  "I don't mind it so much. Usually." She could imagine him grinning, and wondered again what he looked like. "I'm glad to get a chance to talk to you," he said quickly, as if forcing out the words before he decided against saying them.

  "Oh?"

  "Mmmhmm. Since Kendric announced who you were."

  "Why?"

  He paused again for moment, before continuing in a rush, "I knew your father. He was a very…kind man."

  "Oh," she said quietly. She furrowed her brow, she hadn't gotten the impression he was that old. "How did you know him?"

  He became silent again for a while. "Can I tell you a story?"

  "Will it answer my question?"

  He chuckled. It was a very pleasant sound. "Yes."

  "Go ahead then."

  "First though. I've a question for you." Before she could speak, he began talking again. "In the city, did you happen to hear the gossip about the Fey who joined the army?"

  She blinked. Where had the sudden change in topic come from? "Of course. About two years ago. That's all anyone talked about for long time. What's that have to do with anything?"

  "I want you to look at me," he said gently.

  She turned her head in his direction. "I can't see–" Shock paralyzed her voice, and fear, too. Two golden eyes stared back at her. They weren't really glowing, but more lit with an inner light. "Gah..."

  The eyes went out.

  She stared into the darkness, her own eyes wide. Her breath froze in her chest while she tried to comprehend what had just happened…trying to calm her suddenly frantic heart. When she could speak her voice went up an octave, or three, too high. "Do you like to scare me?"

  "I didn't mean to." His voice sounded so very quiet and tinged with such sadness, she reached out a hand to him. Well two hands, since they were attached by a foot of chain. She found his, limp in his lap.

  "You could have warned me." She laughed suddenly, putting her hands back in her lap. "I nearly pissed myself."

  He let out a deep sigh.

  "So," she continued when he didn't speak again. "I'm guessing you were showing me you are the Fey everyone was talking about."

  He made a sound of agreement. "Are you frightened of me?" His words came out so quietly she barely heard him.

  She took a moment to think about it. "No," she said finally. What did she know of the Fey? Nothing but children's stories really, and how much truth was in them? "Should I be?"

  He laughed bitterly. "Not really," he admitted. His words came out in a rush again, "Though, I am much stronger than you. If I wasn't careful I could hurt you by accident without even meaning to. But I've been practicing a lot, being around people."

  "That's good to know," she said wanly. "So is it true you can move really fast?"

  "Yes."

  "Huh." Her eyes narrowed. "So how did you get caught by slavers?"

  "I got hit over the head," he admitted wryly.

  She chuckled. "Me, too."

  "That's right," he said. "You were unconscious a long time." She started as she felt his hand by her face. She froze as it moved around her hair and paused as it found the matted dried blood.

  "Who cut your hair?" His voice
rose in mock horror.

  She choked on the memories of her and squeezed her lips together tightly to gain control. "My brothers," she finally managed to answer.

  "Huh," he replied. "Have you seen it? That's about all I've seen of you, and truly, it's very bad. I could fix it for you, if you like. When we get out of here."

  She blinked rapidly, trying to follow him. He talked so fast, so earnestly. Did people never listen to him? "No. I haven't seen it. If we do get out of here you can shave it off for all I care."

  "Why have you been hiding?" His voice grew very quiet again. "We never see your face."

  She didn't answer and they sat in silence for a few moments. "I thought you were going to tell me a story," she said finally. "You said you knew my father?"

  "So I am. The story of my life. Are you ready?"

  She nodded before realizing he couldn't see her. "Yes. But! You need to slow down, you talk way too fast."

  "I do?" His voice sounded so innocent it made her smile.

  "You do," she said firmly.

  "I didn't mean to." He sounded like he actually meant it. "I don't…talk a lot. I'm not very good with people."

  "I think you're doing just fine," she told him.

  He grew silent again for a moment and then took a deep breath. "So. My story. It's really very short because I don't remember much of my past. I remember my parents. I remember we traveled all the time. We never stayed anywhere for long. I do remember taking a boat across the sea, but I was only a few years old."

  "So you really are the first Fey to come west to our lands?"

  "As far as I know, yes. Now don't interrupt."

  "Sorry."

  "So. I was ten when my parents were…when they died. The years after weren't easy for me. Alone so young. I had learned much of the Fey lore from my parents already, but there was so much else I hadn't learned. Humans were not kind to me." He paused and took a shaky breath. "After a while I gave up and ran wild in the forest. I stayed away from people. I was…very savage. Then your father found me."