The Secrets of the Moonstone Heir: Book One of The Scale Seekers

by A. R. Cook

  He strolled out of the room, humming a little tune. Desert Rain followed after him, into her bedroom. He flopped onto her bed cushions, stretching out his arms and legs. He was beaming, quite proud or satisfied by something. This was the happiest she had seen him in a while, and she gathered why.

  “You’re leaving,” she said, not so much as a question but as a confirmation.

  He looked up at her, and beckoned her over. She hesitated, but her body ached to be beside his. She cautiously walked over, and sat down next to him. He drew her towards him, resting her head on his shoulder. He stroked her cheek, smiling oddly at her.

  “You’re coming,” he resolved.

  She snapped her head up, her ears folded back. “Where?”

  He got up, went over to her bookshelf and plucked out a couple of books from the collection on the top shelf. He tossed them to her. She caught them, but then deliberately dropped them.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” she said.

  He shrugged. “Fine. Your choice.” He returned to her bed and lied back. He summoned her with both hands, licking his lips. “Then how about you give me a goodbye present?”

  Something feverish boiled up inside her, and the next thing she knew, she was screaming, “ARE YOU INSANE??”

  He stared coldly at her.

  “You’re about to leave after all I’ve done for you, and you honestly think that I’m going to be okay with this…with this??”

  Katawa eyed her with impatience. “I know what you want, Desert Rain. Why do you insist of depriving yourself of it?”

  “You know what you want, Katawa. What should I have expected? I knew you would do this. I knew you wouldn’t stay.”

  “Then why are you angry?”

  Desert Rain could not find the answer to this, but even if she did, she would not admit it to him. “You are a Wretched, no matter how you look. All a thing like you cares about is…is…”

  “Is what, Dez?” He leaned forward, grinning with sinister interest.

  Desert Rain turned away from him. She spoke softly, more to herself than him. “Why do I let this happen to me every time, when I know I’ll end up alone because of what I am?” She looked back at him, and she fumed when she saw that he was picking at a thread in her cushion, barely paying attention to her. “But you wouldn’t understand how I feel. You don’t feel anything. Not love, not humiliation, not pain—”

  “What do you know of pain?” He shot up from the bed and had Desert Rain pinned against the wall so fast that Desert Rain was stunned. Katawa held her by the throat in a beastly grip that was ice cold.

  “You think you know pain, little Dez?” he hissed, his lips touching her ear. “Was I not gentle with you? Did I not reawaken the fire in that desolate heart of yours? Did I not give you everything that you wanted? I could have given you pain. I could have done anything I wished, and you would have begged me for mercy. But you’re my golden girl, Desert Rain. I have never given you the suffering that I endured.” He drew his head back to look her in the eye. An expression of mild delight crossed his face. “You’re mine, Desert Rain. You belong to me.”

  Desert Rain felt the wild dog of defense leap up within her. “You will never own me.”

  “You’re wrong. You gave yourself to me. I would have given myself to you in return, but you’re so simple, Dez. You don’t wish to own anything. I am not yours, but now, you’re mine.”

  Desert Rain bared her teeth. “I may have offered my heart, but that’s all. You have nothing else of mine.”

  Something vile inhabited Katawa’s voice. “Oh really? You gave me nothing else?”

  The way in which he said this made panic surge through Desert Rain’s body. “What did you do?” She broke free of his grasp and stepped away from him. “What did you do??”

  “You took something of mine once, and kept it from me. So I decided to hold onto something of yours. You gave me all of you, Dez. But don’t worry too much. You won’t really die from me taking your soul. Although I can’t promise the effect will be less terrible.”

  From out of his sleeve emerged the rose that he had given her, except now it had become animal in nature, for it crawled and twisted up around his arm and hand like a snake. Also, it was no longer purple—it was golden, glimmering with dewdrops that shined like blue fire, and leaves of blue crystal that sprouted like fae wings. Katawa let it slither along his fingers, playing with it as if it were a pet. It reacted to him, flinching at his touch. “This is your very spark. Your pure essence. It makes me wonder how you stand to live in these stark badlands. This place a blank canvas, without any material to liven it. You were smothering your soul, Desert Rain. All this

  passion, going to waste.”

  Desert Rain gawked at the slithering rose, her head aching with a numb coldness. “I don’t believe you. Not a word. This is a…it’s a trick.”

  The flower seemed to have heard her, for it began to grow out towards her, and the closer it came, the more it blossomed into various flowers and fruits, reaching out with gifts of inspiration and beauty. Desert Rain could have sworn she heard it singing her songs, making music in the voices of her instruments. The colors the plant produced were so bright that it made all else look gray. In fact, all else was gray. Everything around Desert Rain suddenly felt lifeless and colorless; what had felt like home now felt like long dark tunnels of mold, grimy stones and sand, and meaningless murals. Her life was contained in that rose, and it was all snatched away from her when Katawa retracted his hand and the flower shrank back, coming to rest as a loop around his neck.

  Katawa smirked. “Of course you believe me. I can’t outright steal someone’s soul. They have to give it to me. Last night, you gave yours to me, a sweet little gift. I’ll give it back to you, eventually, when I grow bored of it. Until then, I’ll hang on to this.”

  With a shriek Desert Rain lunged at him, knocking him into the wall. Her fingers taking hold of his throat and squeezing as tightly as possible. The demon was not choking. He was laughing, loudly, horribly, mockingly.

  “Stop it! STOP IT!” Desert Rain grabbed at the golden rose around his throat, but it would not budge. Katawa grabbed her wrist, his lips pulling back over his gums, his teeth bared in a wolf sneer. For the first time, Desert Rain noticed his fangs.

  “Oooh, you can be vicious,” he hissed. “I like a girl with a mean streak.”

  Desert Rain slapped Katawa across the face with her free hand. She did not have enough time to regret that action before she received a quick backhand across her face, and it sent her tumbling across the floor. He had struck her temple with such force that she almost blacked out. Suddenly he was over her, his face even more terrible than his reptilian one had been.

  “You don’t honestly think you can inflict any real pain on me, do you? You’re like all the others, except easier to deceive. Do you know what happens to people without souls? They become feral. And that’s exactly what will happen to you. You will fall apart, piece by piece, like a shattered mirror until nothing’s left. It’s happening to you already. You won’t be the only one, however. You’re just the first Hijn.”

  Desert Rain shot up and made a mad dash for the kitchen. She grabbed a large shard of the plate she had smashed off the floor, holding it up as a weapon. Katawa meandered in after her. Her hand shook terribly, no matter how hard she tried to steady herself. She could feel a trickle of sweat—or was it blood—on the side of her face. “Give it back,” she demanded.

  Jubis, who had been hiding in the kitchen all this time, was yipping wildly at Katawa. The

  demon looked down at the small fox. Jubis growled, the fur on his back standing on end.

  A wicked smile spread across the demon’s face.

  Before Jubis could run, Katawa grasped the fox by the scruff of the neck and dangled him in the air. Jubis yelped and whimpered as Katawa’s nails dug into his fur. “Perhaps I should give you a demonstration of what pain really is,” Katawa said, his pupils transforming into those cat-eye
slits.

  “If you do anything to him, I’ll…I’ll…” Desert Rain took a step towards him, the shard at arm’s length.

  “You’ve seen what my distortion touch does to inanimate objects. Allow me to demonstrate what it does on a living creature.”

  A fierce shade of burgundy-purple began to bleed across Jubis’s fur. His skin began tightening against his bones so badly it was at the point of ripping. The muscles in one of his front legs and a back one twisted, and a terrible cracking of bone was heard as Jubis’s small body was stretched and contorted right in front of Desert Rain. Swelling took hold of the fox’s neck, and from the swell, spear-like spikes burst out with a spurt of some sort of purplish liquid. Jubis screamed, his lips being drawn back towards the back of his head. Katawa watched his work take shape, smiling all the while.

  Desert Rain was petrified at this devilish display of power. She charged on Katawa, dealing the demon a fist straight into his face. The demon reeled back, for even though the pain was nothing to him, the force gave him a jolt. Desert Rain snatched Jubis from Katawa’s hand and turned to run, but then knew what she had to do.

  The last resort.

  She turned back, dropping the plate shard and extending one hand at Katawa’s face. The ancient words spiraled through her mind, and the flesh on her fingertips was already changing from golden to a periwinkle blue, as if the blood was being drained out of her hand. It stung, worse than scorpions digging into her skin, but she held her stance, as Katawa watched her. He raised his eyebrows, and when he saw her silently murmuring as the blue in her fingers spread, a strange hungry look crossed his face.

  “Is this it? Are we finally going to see Granny Luna’s magic?” he said, his eyes glistening with ravenous anticipation.

  Desert Rain whole arm went cold, and the rage on her face melted into anguish, her eyes welling with tears. She…couldn’t. She just couldn’t do it. She knew Ayu was gone, replaced with whatever this demon was. She knew whatever Katawa had said to sway her heart was all a lie. But beyond logic, beyond sense, she couldn’t let loose the magic, couldn’t destroy the only one who had made her feel…

  “Change Jubis back,” she snarled. “Now.”

  The devilishly glee on Katawa’s face decayed into a glower. He scratched his chin. “Interesting. I’ve never undone a distortion before. I see no reason I couldn’t do it.” He paused, as if thinking it over. “On the other hand…”

  Katawa suddenly had her by the arm, transmitting his flesh-rendering talent into her body.

  The agony of it was indescribable. Whatever magic Desert Rain had begun to conjure was dispelled in an instant, and the ancient words fled from her mind. Her golden skin turned to a bruised green-violet, the flesh wrapping around itself into a gnarled braid, her fingers swelling and sprouting jagged talons. It rushed into her shoulder, where her skin peeled back and curled into fleshy fingers, clawing at her neck. She could see her red muscle through the distorted skin. Tears washed down her face in torrents, and her screams of anguish made her hoarse. She dropped everything, and crumpled on the floor.

  “This is pain, little girl,” the demon laughed. “But this doesn’t even come close to the torment I was dealt.”

  “Stop, please!!” Desert Rain managed to plead. “Leave me alone! This isn’t fair!!”

  Katawa bared his fangs in a malevolent snarl. “Do you think what happened to me was fair? This is the curse of being a Sage’s heir. No easy escape, ever. Mortals get that luxury, but not you. That was always the pity of my talent. The pain of it can kill, and it often did on those I hoped to create true masterpieces from. But you won’t die so easily. I can use my gift on you unlimitedly. I always wondered what would happen to someone who is given a lethal dose of pain, but won’t die…” His expression reeked of madness. “Wait, I do know. It drives you insane.”

  Desert Rain forced herself to pick up the plate shard on the floor beside her. With one mighty swing, she lunged forward and buried the shard into Katawa’s neck, right under his chin. His eyes shot open wide and he instantly released her, falling back onto the floor. His effect on her flesh receded, the protrusions shifting back into her muscles and her skin returning to its normal golden hue. The pain dissolved into numbness, but her body still screamed from the terror of it all. The strike she had dealt him must have ruined his concentration before he could make the effect permanent.

  Katawa stared up at the ceiling, as black blood flowed forth down his front. For a minute, she thought he was dead. But then his hand reached up and took hold of the shard, yanking it from his throat. He sat up, his body jerking in a mechanical way. He grabbed the flesh around his wound and pinched it together like soft clay, molding it until it was sealed. He wiped some of the blood away, looking at it in his hand. His eyes shifted back to her.

  “That was not nice,” he growled.

  Desert Rain scooped up the limp fox and was out of the kitchen as fast as her legs would allow her. She was out the front door and racing across the desert sands at lightning speed. She suddenly regretted living in the middle of nowhere, for there was no place to hide and she had no

  clue where to run. She quickly came upon a small hollow under a slab of sandstone, nearly

  hidden under the sand. She crawled into it, cradling Jubis as gently as she could. His distortion had not worn off, or at least was not receding as quickly as hers had. Half of him still had warm orange soft fur, and the other half was dark, leathery, and disfigured.

  “I’m so sorry, Jubis. Forgive me.” Desert Rain hugged the poor animal to her chest. She huddled back deeper into the hollow, barely breathing lest she should be heard. Suddenly, there came a tapping on the rock above her head.

  “Always in one hole or another, aren’t you?” Katawa snickered. He peaked into the hollow. “I hope you don’t view this as a lack of appreciation on my part. Now I have to be on my way, and you will follow me. Maybe not today, but you will seek me out. You will view what I have done for you as a blessing. Without your soul, you will no longer feel any petty admiration for your precious knight, and you will feel nothing once I’ve killed him.”

  With that, he was gone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  A Shaman and a Procession

  Desert Rain sat in the hollow until the dawn, fearing that Katawa was lying in waiting for her to come out. When the morning sun had risen, the heat won out over her fear, and she emerged from her hiding place and returned to the comfort of her house—what little comfort was left. There was nothing she could do for poor Jubis, and the fox had tired from whimpering and was deathly quiet. She hugged him close, her tears bathing his coat until her eyes had run dry. Jubis’ mouth was so twisted, he could not even eat any food Desert Rain tried to give him, although he managed to take in some water she poured into his muzzle.

  A sickness took hold of Desert Rain, and it was a pain unlike what Katawa had inflicted upon her, for with it came no desire to be cured. Since Jubis was unable to eat, after a while she stopped eating, and soon lacked the strength to go fetch water or milk. She lied on her cushions, Jubis next to her, neither of them able to move. Time was irrelevant, and all that existed was agony howling in her dreams. She hoped that maybe starvation or thirst might take hold and remove her from this state of turmoil. But even though her stomach pinched more and more, and her bones ached and her skin chapped, no permanent sleep ever descended upon her. She did manage to obtain some general sleep, but it was restless. Her exhausted brain was pleading for her to go and tell someone of the demon, to warn others to beware of him. He may have come upon Ulomin, and what havoc he might wreak on that defenseless town made her shiver.

  It was on the sixth day, when the sun was so hot it transformed the burrows into an oppressive sauna, that Desert Rain was beckoned forth.

  “Desert Rain,” a voice of brass and thunder bellowed, “come forth and approach me.”

  Desert Rain was not too eager to obey this order. The voice was one she had never heard before, and it se
nt vibes of wonder and dread into her. It sounded like a voice that if angered, it could crack the heavens. The voice was not angry, however, but firm like that of a father.

  “Hurry up,” the voice resonated. “It doesn’t take that long to come out of a tunnel.”

  Desert Rain arose, but did not want to leave Jubis alone. She picked him up gently, and then hobbled in fatigue out of her room and crept up the front steps to peak out of the burrow. At first, she saw no one. She fully emerged, glancing all around the ocean of sand. She rubbed her head in confusion. She was sure that she had gotten over the heat hallucinations she used to have.

  A sudden gust of wind whipped up a cyclone of golden dust around her, blinding her sight for a moment. Amidst the whirling sand, she saw a figure form, grain by grain, with blazing speed. When the sand settled, a strange being stood before her: an elder man dressed in a tunic and pants made from Laspher hide trimmed in rabbit fur. A shroud of owl feathers hung from his shoulders, and he held a staff of braided greenwood. He appeared to be human, but something in his dark eyes suggested otherwise.

  “You are Desert Rain, yes?” the man inquired. Seeing that she was incapable of speech, he huffed and continued. “Yes, of course you are. You’re the one who has incited all the trouble. Never in my existence have I heard of something so utterly foolish as one giving care to a Wretched, and not expecting to get bitten in the rear because of it! I can tell you are not possessed or hexed, so by your own choice you have hidden in shame while that devil runs amuck. Do you wish to explain yourself?”

  Desert Rain’s voice was hoarse from dryness and exhaustion, but she forced herself to answer. “I wish I could, but even if I understood what was happening, I do not know to whom I am speaking.”

  “You do not recognize me? Nor my voice?”

  Desert Rain shook her head.

  “Then you haven’t been listening very well. I have been here a long time. I was always ready to offer you guidance—all you needed to do was listen. You let past grievances deafen you, and it is now through grievance that you will find your strength.”