Seemingly satisfied, Criston looked over her to two young men standing behind her. “Patrik and Caper, ya’ll go search the dunes and make certain Sug here ain’t bein’ followed. Then meet us back at Jericho’s tent to report whatever ya find.” Without a word, the two men nodded and took off up the dune in the direction from which Maya had come. Watching them race toward the top, Maya was caught off guard when Criston draped his arm causally across her shoulders like they were the closest of friends. Leaning down he then whispered into her ear, “Ya certain there’s nothin’ ya want to tell me?”
“I told you, I’m alone,” she answered quietly.
“Good, then ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout. Now, do ya got some weapons on ya?”
Scrunching her forehead, Maya met his gaze. “I am a woman on the run and traveling alone… of course I have weapons on me.”
“Understood,” Criston grinned, leading her down the hill, “Now come on, I’ll take ya to Jericho… ya know, the coward who sends ten men to capture one small woman.”
“You’re not going to take my weapons away from me?” Maya asked surprised, as she allowed herself to be led down the dune in the direction of the village.
“Naw, just keep them tucked away and know everyone ya see in camp is armed as well… so don’t be thinkin about tryin any funny business.”
At the foot of the dune, Criston continued to lead her toward the camp’s center while the remainder of his men split off in different directions. Around them men, women, and children went about finishing up the last of their daily chores before turning in for the night. Much to her relief, the majority of citizens largely ignored the two of them, although she did notice a few distrustful glares in her direction.
Accepting this as a normal reaction to a stranger entering their home, Maya decided to not let it get to her and instead focused on her surroundings. It didn’t take her long to spot many similarities between the Wanderers’ camp and Oasis; like the group dining area and a medical tent. They even had a centralized meeting area similar to the Core, around which all the other tents were arranged. However here, in place of the fire pit they had erected at the Core, there was a statue of a beautiful woman. Dressed in a loose flowing robe, the woman held a large jar in her hands from which a steady stream of crystal clear water flowed into an open pool below.
“It’s a water source.” Maya commented, watching as several women filled jugs and buckets then carried them back to where ever they came from.
“Aye, it’s the Lady Aquarius.” Criston said, nodding his head in the direction of the statue. “She sits on top of the only fresh water spring for miles. Without her, this camp wouldn’t be able to survive this barren hell hole.”
Walking around to the far side of the fountain, they were just about to exit the open square into a maze of winding paths, when two young boys appeared running fast in their direction. “Papa, papa!” They yelled, their short legs carrying them as fast as they could. Skidding to a halt, both boys stopped and glared at Maya; still with Criston’s arm draped over her shoulders. “Who are ya and whatcha doin with our Papa?”
“Your Papa?” Maya repeated, studying the brown haired carbon copies whose amber eyes clearly confirmed the parentage they claimed. “He’s both of your father?”
Both faces furrowed, as they answered in unison, “Yes.” Then the one of the left added, “And Mama ain’t gonna be happy when she hears he’s been cheatin’ again.”
“What?!” Maya gasped, quickly ducking out from under Criston’s arm.
“Whoa, whoa.” Criston laughed and crouched before the boys. “Now don’t cha be goin’ and tellin’ ya Mama nothin’ of the sort. This here’s Maya.” He continued, hitching a thumb over his shoulder, “And I’m just takin her to meet Jericho.”
“Then why ya got your arm around her.” The boy on the right asked, beside him his brother smirked.
“I… um….” Criston glanced over his shoulder at her as he tried his best to explain himself to the two pairs of angry eyes glaring back at him. “I was just bein’ friendly… now there’s no harm in that is there?” Reaching into his pocket, Criston produced two tiny objects wrapped in wax paper. “Now how ‘bout I give ya both a piece of Ms. Yasmins’ candy and y’all keep this to yerselves?”
Both boys grinned in unison, “We want three pieces… each.”
Maya’s eyebrows shot to her hairline, somewhat shocked that Criston’s kids would have the audacity to blackmail their own father. Of course, given the fact he had just tried to bribe them, maybe she shouldn’t be that shocked. Crossing her arm’s over her chest, Maya struggled to suppress a grin as she stood back to watch and see how Criston chose to handle the smug pair of swindlers.
Silently Criston rose back to his feet and glared at his off spring. Considering the pair for what seemed like minutes, while both boys stood unwavering under his steely gaze, Criston finally released an exasperated sigh signaling his defeat. “Slimy little scoundrels.” He grumbled, digging back into his pants pocket. Though outwardly he appeared angry and upset, Maya noticed an unmistakable gleam of pride in his eye as he placed the requested payment in each boys’ palms, “Now get yer tails outta here before I decide to tattle to ya Momma myself bout the sort of heathen children she be raisin’.”
Laughing, the two boys high fived one another and took off. “They are both yours?” Maya asked watching as they vanished back into the camp.
“Yep,” Criston stated proudly, swinging his arm back over her shoulder. Maya couldn’t help but roll her eyes as he once again began to guide her through the camp. “Damn heathens, is what they are… but smart ones. Of all my kids, them two got da most potential to make somethin’ of themselves.”
Maya jolted to a stop. “Of all your… How many kids do you have?”
“Six.” Criston answered, obviously surprised by her reaction, “Why?”
“But how?” Maya exclaimed, then seeing the mischievous smirk form on Criston’s face clarified. “I mean how are you able to have more than one child? In Vanteria, women can only have one.”
“Oh, that.” Criston chuckled, pulling her back into step with him. “Well first of all they ain’t all got da same Momma.” Seeing Maya glare in his direction, Criston laughed loudly. “Don’t ya be judgin’ me sugar. They ain’t all got the same Momma, but I only been married twice and got three with each one. Hell, dem last two came at the same time, it was the craziest damn thing I ever seen.”
“So, it is normal for women here to have more than one child?” Maya asked, still trying to grasp this surprising piece of information.
“Sure,” Criston answered dismissively, “As far as I know, Vanterians are da only ones with that one child problem, all the other races have multiple children, no problem.”
“But why?”
“Beats me.” Criston shrugged, “I ain’t the one to be askin, maybe you should talk with Doc later.” He paused gesturing behind them in the direction of the medical tent they had passed earlier. “He’d be better suited to answer them sort of questions.”
Maya, overwhelmed with all the new information, followed Criston silently deeper into the Wanderers’ village. She desperately wanted to take Criston up on his offer of speaking with the physician and finding out what he knew of the Vanterians condition and their inability to have more than one child, but she also knew she needed to stay focused on the task at hand. Unfortunately, she doubted the offer would still stand once Jaron got his hands on Jericho.
Letting the thought drift from her mind, Maya refocused her attention on the rainbow of canvas surrounding her. Even in the descending darkness, Maya marveled at the multi-colored fabrics which displayed an unnatural array of colors, each one uniquely embroidered with a multitude of exquisite designs as well as a variety of beads, fringe, and tassels.
“Beautiful, yes?” Criston grinned, noticing her fascination with the intricate patterns.
“Very.” Maya answered honestly.
“Each one is decora
ted by hand.” He smiled motioning to a nearby tent, “They are started the day a young girl is born into a family. On that day the women begin working on the tent that will become hers the day she becomes a bride. For each year of her life until the day of her wedding they add a new design or decoration, each one meant to tell a story or represent a different mile stone in her and her family’s lives. Then, once she marries, her husband’s family crest is added.” He said, gesturing to a symbol over the entrance to a nearby tent, “And on that day the tent is complete.”
“And what about if she never gets married?”
“That don’t be happenin’ here sug.” Criston chuckled lightly, “If a girl and a fellow ain’t picked their mate by the time they twenty, then the parents take over and pick one for them.”
“They choose who they marry?” she asked, unable to conceal her revulsion at the idea.
“Yep.” Criston shrugged, “Family and alliances be the most important thing to a Wanderer, seein’ how most of us ain’t welcome amongst our own kind anymore. So, marriages are often used to forge alliances and grow the family. Here the bigger the family, the stronger yer pull is amongst the tribe.”
“So what race do you belong to Criston?”
Smirking down over his shoulder, Criston tsked her. “Not allowed to ask that Sug. Telling someone what race you are is the ultimate sign of trust and not something to be taken lightly.”
Maya frowned, “But you know what I am, how is that fair.”
“It’s not.” Turning away from her, Criston gestured to a large red tent trimmed in gold. “And here we are.”
Not thrilled about the unlevel playing field, but incapable of doing anything about it, Maya turned and faced the massive red tent and was instantly overcome with a sense of anxiety and dread. From the blood red color of the canvas to the lighted skulls stuck on pikes just outside the entrance, everything about this place screamed danger. Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with the idea of being inside an enclosed space with a man who decorated the front of his home with the bones of his enemies, Maya dug her feet into the sand and resisted as Criston tried to nudge her forward.
“I… I don’t know i-if I can do this.” She stammered. Staring into the hollowed out spaces that used to be eyes, she shoved her trembling hands into her pockets, “S-something doesn’t feel r-right.”
Criston however, payed her no mind as he tightened his hold around her and forcefully pulled her forward. “Awww, don’t mind them fellows. They harmless.” He chuckled, once again tightening his hold on her. “Damn fools is what they were. Tried that funny business I was warnin’ ya ‘bout earlier.”
Swallowing hard, Maya’s eyes darted back and forth in the darkness, desperately searching for any sign of Jaron and the others. “I don’t want to go in there.” She protested, her voice sounding much weaker than she would like. Using her strength, she managed to pull herself free of Criston’s hold.
“I’m afraid ya ain’t got no choice Sug.” Criston said, his light cheery voice taking on a much darker tone. “Jericho would like to talk with ya ‘bout yer friends.”
“I-I don’t have any friends.” She weakly argued. Ignoring the voice in her head screaming for her to run, instead she slowly backed away from Criston and the red tent. “I told you that already.”
“Aye Sug, ya did. But see the funny thing is, we know for a fact yer here with at least two other fella’s” His voice teased as a cool breeze sent a shiver through her entire body. “Although we have yet to find yer friends, we are fairly certain they are out there and ain’t about to leave a pretty little thing like you behind.”
Bringing her bag around in front of her, Maya dug inside, searching for the blades she knew should be in there and came up empty. Unable to believe what was happening she dared remove her gaze from Criston as she continued to frantically search for the missing weapons.
“Looking for these?” Criston teased holding up her knives with a smug grin smeared across his face.
Panic set in as Maya stared at her only means of protection dangling in his grasp. And it was in that moment that the frightening reality of what was happening hit her square in the chest. She had been tricked, lured deep into their camp so she could be used to trap the others. Not wanting to be the bait that lead Jarod and the others to their demise, Maya spun on her heel and took off running as fast as she could.
Desperate to escape, but unsure of which direction to take, Maya weaved her way through the now deserted paths praying she would find one that would lead her back out to the desert. However, turn after turn she was disappointed yet again. Daring a quick glance over her shoulder, she was relieved to find that she was not being followed and with a renewed hope of escaping, she turned down yet another path and spotted an opening at the end.
Dashing in its direction, she picked up her pace. Relief flooded her system as she neared the end of the path, knowing that freedom was only a few short steps away, but her celebration was short lived when thick black fog suddenly materialized before her. Skidding to a stop, Maya watched dumbfounded as Criston suddenly materialized from the swirling mass of dark clouds.
“Sug, give this foolishness up and come with me peacefully.” He coaxed, crossing his arms over his chest, “If ya do, I promise nobody is gonna hurt ya.”
“Yeah right.” Maya shouted, shaking her head as she scanned her surroundings for another means of escape. Unfortunately, the towering tents that surrounded her obscured her vision. With no other options, Maya turned and was about to run back the way she came when two men stepped from the shadows to block the other end. Trapped inside the narrow passage, Maya returned her attention to Criston and glared, hoping to appear more menacing than she felt. “I have a better idea. How about you step aside and let me leave in peace and I will try to keep them from killing you when they get here.”
“I knew you weren’t alone.”
The male voice took her completely by surprise as long arms wrapped around her torso from behind, pinning them to her side. “Take a deep breath Maya, this is going to feel strange.”
Before she could struggle or utter a single word of protest, the world around her faded into a blur of darkness that sucked every last drop of air from her lungs. Streaks of objects she had to assume were tents flashed before her eyes and even the stars above appeared to be nothing more than white lines in the darkness of the night’s sky. Inside her chest, she could feel her lungs collapsing with the lack of breathable air, bringing with it a wave of nausea and dizziness. Maya braced herself, sure she was about to pass out, when the rush of movement finally stopped. The arms around her released her body, allowing her to fall to her knees as she sucked a huge breath of air, refilling her starved lungs.
“Jaron, I know you are here.” Her captor shouted over her stooped body. Taking advantage of her weakened and disoriented state, he grabbed ahold of the back of her shirt, pulling her back to her feet. “Show yourself and nobody has to get hurt.” He continued holding her tightly against him.
Disoriented and crippled by relentless waves of dizziness, Maya struggled to remain upright as her captor continued to scan the darkness in search of the others. “Let me guess, you’re Jericho.” She mumbled, dragging her words like her father would after a long night of drinking.
“Aye.”
Maintaining his tight grasp, Jericho continued shouting into the night, “Jaron, I just want a chance to speak with you… come out.” But his calls elicited no response from Jaron or any of the others who were too smart to walk into an ambush such as this without a plan.
Knowing she just needed to buy them some time, Maya played her role of helpless captive as one by one her senses slowly returned to her. The first thing that caught her attention was the unmistakable sound of water flowing from the jar of Lady Aquarius. Blinking rapidly to clear her vision she scanned the open length of the camp center, flinching at the sound of steel being pulled free of its sheath behind her. Cautiously she glanced over her shoulder.
> “Come out Jaron.” Jericho shouted into the empty night, his sword hanging loosely by his side. “Let’s talk this over, I’m sure we can come to a mutual understanding.”
“Says the man pulling his sword.” Maya huffed sarcastically.
Jericho’s intense green gaze fell upon her. “I have no desire to use it sweetheart, but I also am not a fool. I know Jaron. And if he has come all the way out here, leaving that camp of his unprotected, then I am sure he had something in mind other than a quick chat. And be honest doll, I don’t much feel like dying today.” Narrowing his eyes, Jericho then slid the cold steel of his sword up and pressed it against her neck. “Now call to your friends. Tell them to come rescue you.”
“Like hell.” She snapped. Raising her foot, she slammed the heel of her boot down as hard as she could onto Jericho’s and with a surprised yelp, he dropped the sword slightly. It was just the window she had hoped for. Leaning forward, Maya slammed the back of her head into Jericho’s face and was rewarded with the sickening crunch of cartilage.
Instantly both of Jericho’s hands flew to his bloodied nose as he proceeded to curse her and several of her descendants.
Unfazed by his rants, Maya took off running. “I don’t need anyone to save me you asshole!”
She made it only half-way across the square when a giant grey and black wolf stepped into her path. The massive snarling animal stood at eye level with her, and its haunting yellow eyes tracked her every move as it slowly stalked her direction. Maya shuttered involuntarily as she watched large drops of drool fall from the tips of its gleaming white teeth. Knowing she stood no chance against such a creature without her weapons, possibly not even with them, Maya frantically searched for another way out.
“Settle down sugar,” Criston’s voice whispered from her left. Spinning in its direction, she watched as he once again materialized from a black mist a few feet away. “We don’t want to hurt ya.”
“You could have fooled me.” She argued, backing away. Unfortunately, another quick glance around the square revealed even more men and wolves, stalking from the darkness. Fear tightened her gut. “All of you just stay away from me.” She warned, unable to control the tremble in her voice.
Forsaken (The Shadow Chronicles Book 3) Page 17