by Fiona Sweet
“We need to go—now,” Varyx insisted.
“What? Are you kidding?” I gestured around the village that was left in shambles. “I need you here with me.”
Varyx shook his head in protest. “We can’t let Rathum and his group get away. Beccy is with them, and you know this.”
Varyx was right, of course. I had a better chance of finding Beccy if we chased after Rathum’s brood and leaving quickly would help bridge the gap between us and them.
“I will not let him get away with taking prisoners,” Varyx hissed through clenched teeth and it was enough to send a shiver even up my spine. I’d been on the brunt end of Varyx’s wrath and knew its ferocity. “Especially if they have taken a family member from your own clan.”
I looked at Joshu. I had a gut wrenching decision to make.
“I can’t leave him. He’s too hurt…”
“I know you’re conflicted, but I must go at least,” Varyx said. “With or without you. If Rathum gets away—gods help the ones under his torturous grip, your younger sister included.”
“I want to go with you, but there’s no one else to care for Joshu while we’re gone,” I said and glanced at my brother. “Then again … Beccy is out there, scared and vulnerable and she needs me to.”
“You can go,” Joshu said with a brave expression on his face. “I will be alright here.”
I stroked his cheek that was caked with gritty sand and drying tears. “That’s very noble of you to offer, Joshu,” I whispered, “but you need me too.”
“Beccy needs you more right now,” Joshu encouraged. “She’s alone with scary men.”
Now I understood what Varyx was talking about when he mentioned conflicted decisions. He too experienced the struggle of making a choice between his personal feelings and his duty as Swarm King.
I needed to put my trust in him, that he would find Beccy and bring her back to the village safely and unharmed. Varyx and his men could manage on their own against Rathum’s brood. If anything, this would be my ultimate chance to sacrifice part of my beliefs in order to prove my faith in Varyx as my quintessential fate-marked partner.
“I’m going to stay here with Joshu,” I said, locking eyes with Varyx. “You can move faster without me. Please be careful out there, and bring Beccy home.”
Varyx stoically nodded. He knelt beside me and took my hand, cradling it in his giant grasp.
He stroked my fingers and kissed my knuckles. He gave me an affectionate look and brought his mouth to mine, giving me a kiss that lingered with tingly euphoria long after his real touch had slipped away. It was such a brief gesture, yet so very profound.
It seemed like a million years ago that I had been lugging buckets meant for water in the cruel desert heat—with both Joshu and Beccy by my side, safe and healthy. Our superficial conversations seemed even more trivial now.
So much destruction had followed after I had been fate-marked and started pining after reform. Was I to blame for this torrential downpour of anarchy? Guilt threatened to swallow me whole—right into a gaping singularity of darkness.
Why couldn’t I have just kept my big mouth closed? Why did I have to stir up so much conflict among the Byromians and humans? Would it have made any difference if I hadn’t tried to persuade Varyx into agreeing with my point of view? Would Rathum have been less inclined to severe himself from the group and go on a murderous rampage if he felt like his leader had heard and valued his voiced opinions?
Once the dust had settled and Varyx was long gone, I carried Joshu home and placed him in his bed to rest. He was terribly injured, and I felt monumentally helpless for being unable to do anything for him aside from nurse his wounds and sooth him.
I was grateful that he was sleeping now. He needed the rest, yes, but there was a sea of torment and destruction of another kind going on inside my brain. My fear was eating me alive. The noise inside my head was loud and debilitating.
I lay beside Joshu, staring up at the straw roof, gauging how grave the situation was. Joshu had a broken leg which in itself wasn’t a fatal injury, however, it could lead to infections and all sorts of other issues that might lead to a fatality given our primitive circumstances.
We didn’t have the luxury of hospitals and surgeons that I’d heard stories about through the years, passed down through the generations of what life had been like on the planet Earth for humans hundreds of years ago.
I cupped my head in my hands and gently rocked myself back and forth, silently weeping. It was the only action that brought me any solace for the moment. Maybe crying would aid in my exhaustion and help me fall asleep.
What if I lost both my siblings to this war? It was a nightmare that would tear me apart if it became reality. It was then that I realized I would be lost and grieving if I lost Varyx as well as Beccy. He had an unsurmountable amount of compassion inside of him, and more importantly he wasn’t afraid of revolutionary change.
He was gone—and I had no way of knowing how he was faring or if he was alone and dying out there under a cold desert sky. I squeezed my eyes shut and demanded my brain to seal the gates of devastating thoughts, at least for tonight. It was a challenging task—and proving to be exponentially difficult to ignore the collapsing world around me.
16
Varyx
My men and I were riding aggressively through the dense sand, the clawed feet of our gwarns sending up plumes of dirt and grit into our faces as we rode along as quickly as each lizard’s strength would carry us.
Dusk was settling in over the horizon and the sky was a canopy of gray mixed with fading indigo overhead.
Nightfall was rapidly approaching, and the window of daylight became a narrow sliver. There wasn’t a single chance in hell we would find what we were looking for out there in the cold span of the dense darkness.
Once the elusive cloak of nightfall set over the desert, this planet transformed into a bleak and treacherous place—even for the roaming experienced group traveling along with me.
My mind wouldn’t shut off. It kept racing back and forth between worries and fears. Was Cherish doing alright without me? Was she under stress? Was her life being threatened somehow? Was her brother still alive? Was an infection from his bone fracture beginning to infest and crawl through his fragile human body?
Where was Beccy, Cherish’s younger sister? Was she aching and feeble, freezing somewhere out there in the frigid night, depraved of water, food, shelter, or proper clothing? The amount of dread in my mind seemed cripplingly limitless.
I inhaled the crisp air and slowly exhaled. The breath in front of my face became a fog under the chilly temperature.
I didn’t know how we were ever going to catch up to Rathum and his men, until I saw something strange in the sky over the hills that instantly captured my attention.
The peculiar object was coming from the hunting ground. There was an odd shimmer to it, a cascading light that was reinforced by the glow of the silver moon that seemed to perch directly above the hills.
I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again, blinking to readjust my vision. Surely it was just my imagination running amok, dreaming things up that weren’t really there—fueled by my extreme fatigue.
The moonlight seemed to skirt over a patch of rocky ground rapidly, a trick that lured me in and made me want to follow it.
I glanced at my men. They had caught up beside me now that I’d halted my tracks. I stared into each one of their eyes, measuring their loyalty by the expressions on their faces.
“Do you trust me?” I asked of the group.
With uniformity, they nodded without hesitation.
“I said, do you trust me?” My voice bellowed through the shrill cold air.
Vast cheers erupted through the darkness, making my heart gallop with excitement. I was so fired up with adrenaline that I was ready to jump from my gwarn—stone cold and ready to inflict paramount damage on my enemies lurking out there in the shadows. Thankfully, the harsh nighttime winds roare
d and masked the cacophony.
“Will you follow me even if you’re uncertain about the rugged terrain and what we might face along the way?” I shouted, feeling motivated.
I was filled with enough energy to compel double the amount of men I had.
I was met with inspired cheering and clapping, and it was all the ambition I needed to lead this crowd to its final victory.
“We’ll carry on now,” I directed. “Our journey continues here and it’s vital that we stay on course.”
Luckily, the gwarns had one remaining burst of energy left in them, which was all we needed to cross the hills quickly.
When we approached the rocky area, I slowed the swarm to a crawl. “We need to brace ourselves for an attack,” I whispered to the men surrounding me. “Be ready from all angles. It’s dark—which means our vision is impaired through default.”
The men nodded understanding and ground their gwarn’s to a halt.
My heart stopped when I saw movement behind the larger rocks. Rathum’s black horns protruded above the tallest rock formation, shimmering under the moonlight, and giving his temporary place of refuge away.
The village prisoners were clustered together, trembling with fright, their heads ducked down to their knees. They weren’t begging for mercy, which led me to believe they were ordered to keep their mouths shut if they wanted to live.
The gwarns from Rathum’s group were resting a few yards away. A few of the men who had fled with Rathum had taken off on their own behind the rocks.
I noticed right away that they were having their fun taking advantage of the prisoner village women. Rathum’s men were perched on top of the sobbing women while clamping their hands over their mouths to muffle some of their wails of distress.
It was gut wrenching to watch and I needed to act fast to cease this vicious behavior.
“I know you see me, Rathum,” I said, announcing myself. “It’s time to stop hiding behind the veil of darkness and face what you’ve done.”
“I’ve done nothing,” Rathum retorted, making no attempt to emerge from behind the rocks. He was a coward, after all.
“Your father would be ashamed of his pathetic worm of a son,” I said, hoping to taunt him enough to jump from behind the rocks and fight me like a man.
Rathum glanced at me in the moonlight, his callous eyes flickering with hate. “How dare you.”
“How dare you,” I fired back menacingly. “You aren’t even man enough to present yourself and end this tonight. If you are so hellbent on taking prisoners and ruling by fear, then emerge and battle me to take what you claim as yours.”
My efforts to patronize Rathum paid off. He leapt from behind the rocks, his official attempt at an overthrow at long last in progress.
His expression was venomous as he charged toward me and barreled into my chest with vengeful force. Without time to even draw our swords, we crashed to the ground in a heap of anger and rage—both of us ready to fight to the death.
Rathum was on top of me, hammering my face with his fists. I reeled my arm back into a striking position. I punched him square in the face, directly in the center of his nose.
Rathum stumbled backward, roaring in pain. One of his lieutenants charged at me next in impulsive revenge. The attack was a revolting shock to everyone, including Rathum’s men. A lieutenant striking a Swarm King was a forbidden offense punishable by death.
Rathum didn’t skip a beat. His nose was dripping with blood, but it didn’t stop him from using the advantage to draw his sword and lunge at me again for a second attack. He wanted to gain the upper hand.
His attack missed my torso and the blade slashed across my arm, tearing through my flesh. He watched my blood flow with a sadistic look flickering in his wild and wide eyes.
Searing pain shot up and down my arm, momentarily incapacitating me. My vision blurred as I attempted to breathe through the unspeakable agony. However, he had to move back in order to bring his massive sword around for another blow. This gave me the precious time I needed to unsheathe my own weapon. Still, with one of my arms severely injured, wielding the hefty two-handed sword would prove a daunting task.
Then, something changed in my psyche. I remembered the unidentifiable light that I’d initially seen strobing over the hills.
I knew it was crazy to even entertain the idea of the light being a signal from my father—but if he was out there in the stars watching over me—then wouldn’t it make sense for him to guide me to the exact spot where Rathum and his men had been hiding?
How else would I have ever found them otherwise, unless I had been led there by a supernatural source aimed to assist me?
Driven by the spirit of my father that I now felt dwelled inside me, phantom adrenaline surged through my veins and powered me forward to finish what I had started.
In a moment of halted grace, everything seemed to move in slow motion. I raised my sword over my head and swooped it down against Rathum’s neck. His head severed from his body in one clean slash—the head rolling a few yards away. His body collapsed into a crumpled heap in the dirt and sand.
Once everyone witnessed the beheading of my rogue right hand man, jaws dropped. Weapons also dropped, and silence filled the desert night. All eyes were fixed on me, shimmering with terror under the silver glow of the moon.
I glanced behind me at my men—soldiers who had backed me from the beginning and who still stood united with me.
“Kill them all,” I commanded of my men, referring to Rathum’s remaining lot. “Those who commit treason under the reign of the Swarm King must die.”
17
Cherish
All night I worried about my little sister and Varyx. If they weren’t alive, I didn’t know what I would do. Carry on, I supposed, bottle up the pain and regret.
Joshu woke up from a restful slumber with me sitting by his bedside. I wanted to be the first person he saw when he woke up so that he’d feel a monumental amount of security. He’d been through a terrorizing number of ordeals in his very brief life to date, and I wanted nothing more than to be able to provide him with some comfort.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I whispered and stroked his hair. I planted a delicate kiss on his clammy little forehead.
Joshu blinked at me through groggy eyes and gave me a hazy smile. “Mom used to always say that to me.”
I smiled. “I know. She was so gentle and wonderful.”
I never expected to amount to even half the maternal glory of my mother, may she rest in peace.
“I had the best dream that we were all united,” Joshu said with a drawn out sigh and a melancholy frown.
“Who? Me, you, and Beccy?” I asked.
Joshu gazed across the room with a murky expression that was hard to read. “No, all of us. Mom and Dad, too.”
“I wish that was a possibility,” I said soothingly. “I’m going to check your splint if that’s okay?”
I eyed Joshu cautiously. He nodded but winced as soon as I gently removed the rag bandage his legs.
“It seems to be setting,” I said. “I wish we had a real cast to give you, but for now this is going to do the trick. It looks much better than it did yesterday.” Unfortunately, the villagers with knowledge of healing were still frantically dealing with much worse injuries.
“Really?” Joshu propped himself up on his elbows and curiously peered down at his legs.
I nodded encouragingly. “It’s a little bruised, but there’s no sign of infection or anything.”
Thank goodness the bone wasn’t protruding from the skin—a thought I allowed to gratefully pass through my own mind but kept to myself in front of Joshu.
Joshu beamed with relief. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday, either.”
I tenderly tousled his hair. “I think you are on the mend, little fellow.” I knew it would take a lot more time for the broken bone to heal, but I wanted to keep his spirits high.
My little brother’s enthusiastic grin warmed my hea
rt. He was a trooper and a fighter. In this world, you had to be that way in order to survive.
At least I had one thing to cross off my substantial list of worries. Overnight, there was a lot of concerning talk about Rathum’s mutiny. I wished that I could have brought some positivity to the opinions and whispers around the village, but unfortunately, I didn’t know what the future would bring any better than anyone else did.
I glanced down at Joshu laying in the bed. He looked eager to get out and play, but it was going to be a while before he was back on his feet again—literally speaking.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
We had sent a party to the oases for supplies. They had brought back a bounty of fruit and water and various meat supplies. For a rare occasion in his young life, Joshu had the luxury of getting to choose what he wanted to eat and drink.
“I’m starving.” Joshu licked his lips and rubbed his stomach.
I chuckled and patted him on the head again. “I’ll go fetch you something and I’ll bring it back to you.”
Joshu frowned with disappointment. “Can’t I go with you?”
“Soon,” I promised. “But for now—you really need to stay off that leg and rest as much as possible so it will heal properly.”
Joshu grumbled sourly but deep down he knew he was still too weak to try and hobble along on his one decent leg.
When I stepped outside of the hut, I noticed there were already people starting to huddle around the campfires. They were picking from the fruit and taking tins of water back to their own houses for their families.
One man with a long beard was locked in a heated discussion with another man about who would be the first to attain victory in this battle—Rathum or Varyx.
The man with the beard was worried that Rathum would conquer while the other sided with Varyx. The debate made my stomach twist into anxious knots and suddenly I’d lost my appetite, although I did still pluck a few items for Joshu to munch on.