Unremorseful, her eyes glided to the dead body and those around him. The Priestess pouted her lips in a dramatic display. “Too bad, he was so useful,” Lowering her hand and swiping her long skirts behind her, she glided across the room.
The horror deepened as the men around her looked to the body on the ground. Zeke, the only one not shaking in fear, bowed, then stood tall before the Priestess.
“Priestess, for the last week we have searched for Evangeline,” the General said. Several gasped at his unrequested dialog, but General Zeke continued. “Using much force we questioned our foe, gathering information as to where she might be hiding. We’ve looked in towns, caves and forest. The desert holds no life and still we have searched the barren ground. If she lives, I know not where to find the girl of Everleigh.”
“She is not dead,” the Priestess sneered. “The powers have told me that much.”
Heavy silence followed. Then without prompting the Priestess spoke the words she had heard so long ago.
Several faces dared look into hers as they heard the prophecy for the first time. “The offspring of your greatest threat to power will grow to overthrow you,” winding around the room her trancelike voice entrapped their souls. “You must find and destroy this enemy to ensure your lasting reign.”
Pausing, she looked at those who had shown her the greatest loyalty, the ones who she had the greatest hold over. Her voice rang sharply in each of their ears.
“If you’d like to keep the stations you’ve been placed in under my rule, you will find this girl at any cost,” her voice began rising to a crescendo. “Remember well how you came to be at this table. Much was given each of you and I demand much in return!”
“Yes, Honored Priestess,” murmured the small crowd. Still holding hands against their chests they stood tall once again, all ignoring the lifeless body laying in their midst.
“We’ll start our search once again for Evangeline,” Zeke commanded. “You will each organize your own search within the area under your command. Have your soldiers re-question everyone with ties to her or to Everleigh. Raise the reward, figure out what the people want and promise them more in return.”
“In fact,” the Priestess added, “promise them a seat at this table,” as she flicked her eyes to the empty seat at the table then to the body on the floor. “The person who can give us information leading to her capture will be a ruler in the Priestess’s court. One of the ruling seven. They will want for nothing.”
“We will find her, Honored One,” Nagar spoke again, turning his head towards the Priestess but still not daring to look her in the eye. “There is nowhere the enemy can hide her that you don’t control.”
“Then I suggest you do it,” she snapped. Dismissing them, she slipped out the side door, her General following close behind.
Chapter Seven
“It’s about time you awoke,” the woman’s voice was strong with an upbeat tempo to it. Evangeline peeled her eyes open to see who was talking. They felt heavy and it took more effort than Evangeline thought it should.
Her eyes first focused on the ceiling. Clear tubes full of zapping electrical currents crossed the ceiling next to metal air vents. Turning her eyes towards the sound of the voice, she took in the unfamiliar room. Small, it smelled of fresh laundered linens and a tattered patchwork quilt hung over an old shabby rocking chair. She looked at her caregiver then froze. Her eyes clung to the woman’s left shoulder. The Priestess insignia smoldered red against its gray background.
The woman followed her gaze. “Oh this?” she exclaimed, giving it a passing glance. “Don’t you worry about that. If I could, I’d tear it off,” she spoke with an indifferent shrug, making Evangeline’s confusion skyrocket.
As if sensing the avalanches of questions about to be thrust upon her, the lady started talking. “You, Evangeline Adhara of Everleigh, are in the center of the Defense Recruit Training Facility.
Evangeline gasped. Dagger-like pain filled her chest and radiated down her arm. She bit her bottom lip, holding the breath that caused so much pain. She tried to remember why she hurt so much.
“You also, my dear, have a healing bullet wound. I’m afraid if you tried to run, you wouldn’t get too far.” Visions of Gideon shooting her flashed over her memory. She reached towards her neck for the necklace Gideon had given her. It was gone. She balled her hand into a fist as the mysterious woman continued. “But don’t worry about that. You are safe here.”
Relaxing her hand, Evangeline put her good arm behind her to push herself into a sitting position. Pain ripped through her chest and she collapsed back on the bed. Seeing the struggle, the lady leaned over and helped arrange pillows behind Evangeline’s back until she sat comfortably.
“Thank you,” Evangeline whispered through her dried mouth.
“Call me Thora. No need to be formal with me,” Thora turned, grabbing a bowl full of yellow liquid off the nightstand. “Would you like some broth?”
Evangeline nodded in response and reached with her good arm for the bowl in Thora’s hands. Bringing it to her lips she sipped the warm liquid.
“How long have I been unconscious?”
“You’ve been in and out for about a week,” Thora’s warm voice replied. “And unfortunately, you’ll have to rest a bit longer. You have to let that wound heal on its own. Getting a doctor to look at it will draw too much attention.”
Evangeline bit her lower lip and looked at the bandages crossing her chest. They looked new and clean. She didn’t want to see how bad the wound was. She pulled her gaze away. “Do you know how I arrived here?”
“I do. But I’m not at liberty to say much. The fact is you’re safe in my care,“ she explained. “And here you’ll stay, helping me as a servant as soon as you heal.”
Evangeline nodded. So many questions wracked her mind. She studied Thora. The woman’s dark hair was pulled in a bun on top her head with beautiful streaks of silver scattered through it. Her face looked young, though the corners of her eyes carried deep wrinkles. Evangeline judged her to be around forty, her own mother’s age.
“I have been told the Priestess is hunting for you,” she chuckled. “I kind of love that you’ll be hiding right under her nose.” She laughed out loud.
Evangeline’s eyes grew wide, and she slunk deep into her pillow. “The Priestess is still hunting for me? Why?”
“You threaten her. But she won’t look for you here. She’s too proud,” Thora replied, leaving Evangeline with the feeling that Thora knew more about the Priestess than she was saying.
“We will need to establish a few rules to keep you safe,” Thora continued. “First is your name. I think changing it from Evangeline to Lena will suffice.”
“Lena,” Evangeline said, trying the name out. “I think I can handle that name.”
Thora smiled and continued explaining the rules. “Don’t let anyone take notice of you until they learn not to notice you,” Thora instructed. “Learn to become part of the surroundings so familiar to them no one will ask questions. And if forced into a conversation, absolutely no telling anyone, ever, your real name or that you are from Everleigh.”
Chapter Eight
Three years later
Jolting awake, Lena’s breath felt sharp in her chest. Her dream, her last memory of Everleigh hung thick around her. She dreamed of him often, the gun in his hand, the miserable look in his eye, then of slipping into darkness. Thoughts of Gideon had crept, unwanted, into her dreams almost every night this last week. She hated it and wished for him to go away.
Shaking her head clear, she looked around at the dull grey room that acted as her home for the last three years. It was not so much a room as a forgotten closet hidden deep within the buildings forgotten halls. Though it was small and simple, she felt protected here.
Taking a breath of cool air, she peeled herself from the thin mattress and sat, rubbing her eyes, on the edge of the bed. Lowering her eyes she studied the Priestess’s insignia tattooed on the back of her hand. She ha
ted it.
Rising from the bed, she reached toward the wall. Automatically, a panel slid open, revealing a rack where her clothes hung. Organized in a row, the exact same outfit hung evenly spaced on the freestanding rod. Grabbing the first outfit she saw, she pulled it on.
Sighing, she looked at the grey unremarkable jumpsuit. The color grey seeped itself into every aspect of her life. Her jumpsuit stood the exact same shade as the gleaming grey walls and floors in the servants’ corridors, radiating a mood as emotionless and dull as the color itself. Grabbing her brush off a shelf in her closet, she ran it through her hair. The once frizzy mess now hung in long waves down her back. Pulling the brush through it, she noticed how much it had darkened over the years, changing from sun-bleached blonde to a dull brown. Not that it mattered, she told herself; she always kept it pulled back anyway. No one was allowed to have his or her hair down here. The same rule applied whether you were a servant or a soldier.
Her heart bolted remembering the new recruits due to arrive that day. Grabbing an elastic band she ran into the dimly lit servants’ hallway. She twisted her hair into a bun as she darted toward the kitchen, wondering what this semester of recruits would be like.
Tubes of electrical current zapped above her head and she heard the buzz of the air filtration system also housed within these hidden halls. The Priestess designed her whole Defense Compound around the exact same insignia gleaming from Lena’s hand. The main corridors curved around circular rooms, and the circular training fields curved around them. It was the empty spaces between the circular rooms that Lena worked lived and stayed safe.
Sliding through the kitchen doors, Lena smiled at Thora who already stood at the flour filled counter, kneading the dough for breakfast. Raising her grey eyes towards Lena, she took a moment to probe her. “Nightmares again?”
“Memories,” Lena sighed, thinking about her dream. “How do you always know?”
Thora smiled without answering and tucked a loose strand of greying hair behind her ear. The kitchen gleamed in tidiness. Unused service droids adorned the countertops and floors. Passing them, Lena grabbed an apron off the far wall and slid into place next to her older friend. Grabbing some dough, Lena started rolling out and cutting the biscuits.
“You know Thora, there’s a machine that will do all this for you,” Lena grinned, eyeing the service droid next to them.
“Oh honey, don’t I know it. But my biscuits melt into a buttery deliciousness that can’t be beat,” Thora replied, causing Lena to smile at the truth of her older companion’s words.
“New recruits are in today,” Thora announced.
“I know,” Lena replied trying not to show her anxiousness.
“Remember the rules,” the authority in Thora’s voice left no room for argument. Softening her voice, she looked at the girl in her care. “Lena, even if someone else did survive, you can’t let them know….”
“I remember Thora,” her pained eyes rose toward her protector. “Plus, I doubt anyone would recognize me anymore,” she theorized, brushing loose flour into a pile on the counter top.
“Well, you surely have grown in some places and shrunk in others. Never-the-less, remember the rules.” Thora’s eyes, though demanding, shone like a ray of sunshine in the dull world around them.
Retreating to her thoughts Lena remembered her first time hearing the rules. “Don’t let anyone take notice of you. Blend in. And never under any circumstances are you to tell anyone your real name or that you’re from Everleigh”.
“Lena,” Thora barked, snapping Lena back to the present. Softening her eyes Thora looked into hers. “Lena, please, remember the rules.”
“Yes, of course, Thora,” Lena promised.
Thora smiled and continued to prepare the biscuits while Lena programmed the food replicators to cook the other items on the breakfast menu: eggs, pancakes, and sausage. Lena also programmed a service droid to ready the fresh fruit they served in the mornings.
Transitioning into the life of a servant had proved an easy task for Lena. Her parents always taught her to work hard, and she was quick to pick up on the tasks assigned to her—which was mostly making sure the service droids did their jobs.
“People will watch you.” Her father once told her. “Make sure what they see is good. You serve your people. There is no job too good for you so long as it’s in the service of your people.”
She smiled upon remembering her fathers’ words. The recruits here didn’t exactly notice her, yet the words of her father still rang true in her soul. She even found contentment serving unnoticed in the enemy’s army, believing if circumstances were different that the people of the Priestess would be her people. Therefore, she saw no reason to act contrary to her father’s words.
Lena heard metal trays banging and silverware clattering as she opened the doors to the dining hall to send the droids out with the food. Excited laughter, found only on the first day of training, filled the air of the curved dining hall.
“You know, they won’t even know what a nice thing you’re doing for them.” Lena accused, calling back to Thora.
“Ahh, but one day, they may need a good memory to get them through the day. And my homemade biscuits are as good a memory as anyone could need,” Thora’s happy demeanor and fresh look at life made Lena smile on a daily basis. “Plus, sometimes you need to do nice things because it’s good for you. Not because you need the praise of others.”
Lena supervised the droids floating around, spitting out replicated food for the recruits sitting at their tables. A droid carrying a loaded tray of Thora’s biscuits stopped in the middle of the hall.
“We have a droid down,” Lena called to Thora.
“Wait to fix it,” Thora answered.
“But then how will these recruits get to taste your delicious biscuits?” Lena said with a smile. Grabbing her tool belt, Lena walked towards the electronic doors that accessed the glass-domed dining hall.
Slipping from the kitchen, Lena glided along the edges of the walls towards the broken service droid, taking care to divert her eyes and movements away from the crowd.
Entering the isle between two tables, Lena sensed an unnatural calm at the table to her right. A glance out the corner or her eye confirmed a table of devious faces staring her down. Taking a deep breath, she focused on becoming invisible. “Don’t notice them and they won’t notice you”, she told herself. She moved towards the droid. Grabbing the tray of biscuits in one hand, she examined the droid with the other. Lena looked at it with confusion. The power had been turned off. Flipping it to on, the droid continued its programmed path. But now she held the biscuits. Lena followed after it. Increasing her speed, she detected too late the foot sliding into her walking path. The abrupt change in movement sent her sprawling to the shiny black floors. Her tray landed in a crash so loud it echoed off the walls. The room went silent as all eyes turned to her.
“Watch where you’re going servant,” a vicious voice spoke loud enough to resonate across the now silent cafeteria. She felt a sea of eyes staring with curiosity at her back.
Taking deep breaths to calm herself, raised her eyes toward the underhanded perpetrator.
“Look what a mess you’ve made.” His voice, full of malice, slithered into Lena’s glowing red ears.
His squished face and red hair reminded Lena of a little devil. Turning to a sitting position, she wiped her hands on her clothes and looked straight into his devious eyes.
“Excuse me recruit,” Lena offered, straining to keep her voice calm.
“How dare you look at me servant,” he sneered. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”
Lena forced a stream of air into her lungs, as she kept her gaze steady with his haughty stare. She knew Thora would lecture her, again, about addressing recruits, but something inside her refused to back down. “I understand the inconvenience this must have caused you.”
“This is far more than an inconvenience. You’ve disrupted my whole morning,” he yelle
d.
His words grated on whatever patience she clung to, but she still kept her words calm and even, “I hate to disrupt one so great as you. I will be sure to stay away from your awkwardly placed feet in the future.”
The room filled with laughter. The red haired recruit clenched his fists and glared around the room. At his gaze, the recruits fell silent.
“Your superior will hear of this,” he threatened, turning crimson in color.
Composed, she kept his gaze, “While you’re there, would you mind telling them we’re out of hand made biscuits?” Shrugging her small shoulders and looking at the biscuits’ fallen place on the floor, she added, “It seems that we went through them more quickly than anticipated.”
Standing above her, his crimson face transformed into a deep purple. “This doesn’t end here,” he threatened, clenching his fists. His eyes remained locked with hers until he turned and stormed away.
Lowering her gaze, she put her hand to her head, taking in the mess around her. Sighing, she reached for the tattoo on her hand. A holographic control screen projected from the tattoo, letting her request a service droid to clean the mess.
“Here, let me give you a hand,” a kind voice offered.
Lena snapped her head toward the smooth voice. The deep blue eyes of a new soldier stared straight back at her. His hand extended toward her place on the biscuit-strewn floor. Surprised but thankful for the small gesture of service, Lena grabbed the hand and was easily helped off the ground.
“I’m Jonah,” the tanned boy declared with a perfect grin. “And what you did was hilarious. He’s been on my nerves since we picked him up.” Running his fingers through his hair, his gorgeous face caught Lena off guard. “ He’s been trying to show everyone how much better he is than the rest of us. All because his daddy is in the Priestess’s court.”
Lena’s heart raced. Whether the Priestess’s name caused it, or the handsome boy, she felt unsure. Not responding to the chivalrous soldier, she turned toward the mess surrounding her and the service droids who were cleaning it up. Jonah still stood next to her, his hands on his hips, also looking at the messy floor. Thora’s warning to stay unnoticed flashed across her mind. Purposefully diverting her eyes from his gaze, Lena turned and started walking toward the kitchen.
The Angel and the Warrior (The Mir Chronicles Book 1) Page 4