The Monster Ball: A Paranormal Romance Anthology

by Heather Hildenbrand

  Chapter Three

  By the time I made it back to my room, my guilt had returned. I wiped down my leathers, threw my undergarments into a bin to be laundered, and then turned my attention to my belt of weapons—and spotted the parcel Ariya had given me still attached.

  I opened the pouch and shook the contents out onto my bed. There was a piece of cheese—wrapped in waxed cloth, a smashed piece of dense bread with loose crumbs and seeds, a handful of brown wrinkled fruit, and the glow of the fire glinted off of a thin gold chain. I blinked, and realization slugged me, depositing even more guilt. She’d given me her food, leftover or not. She’d not only saved my life, but when I’d said I wanted to get something to eat, she’d tried to fulfill my want as well as my need. I scooped up the delicate necklace and let the chain dangle from my index finger. A small pendant slid down the chain to hang at the loose end, and I got my second punch though this shock left me stunned. The delicate golden flower was a tashi, and in the center of the blossom was a red daraja, our most precious gem. I swallowed. If her father was from Sakari—I needed to find out.

  Which meant I needed to go back to Datti.

  I sat on my bed and ate the crumbs and cheese, better than any fare we had in Sakari, and then guzzled watered down ale while I contemplated what I would do. What could I do? Warn her? Was it even possible? How would I find her? I didn’t have time to examine every single residence in Datti . . . I stared at the little flower, a piece of art from a time I had no real memories, only stories from those who were older. Not that I was willing to ask anyone—which led me back to needing to return to Datti.

  I shook my head at the stupid idea. Too many risks if I went back, and yet I did need to retrieve my pack. I needed my cloak, and tomorrow night, I would want my weapons. And if I left them there, buried in the sand, they would have grit and grime in the sheaths. They would be much more difficult to use if they weren’t properly cared for. It only made sense for me to get my weapons, and if I detoured into Datti for an hour and didn’t find her, well at least I tried. Rashi, I was rationalizing, but . . .

  I stood, tired of the circle of my thoughts but not tired enough to sleep. I changed from my sleeping clothes into my leathers, determined to at least go through the motions. If I tried and failed, I would’ve still made the attempt. What more could I do?

  Castle Kankara was silent when I cracked open my door. I had a brief moment of wishing—if I shifted, I could scurry along the walls unnoticed, but given the frozen and starving state of Sakari, shifting into a creature that could be considered food would be near suicidal. While I couldn’t be killed in an animal form, being caught would ensure discovery. If there were other Maciji still, we wouldn’t congregate.

  My father had prepared me for the twisting illness which accompanied the Maciji change from child to man, so even without him here, I’d known the pain of metamorphosis would be temporary and found a place to hide in the deserts of Zafi for those seemingly endless days. And over the last four years since my own change, I’d witnessed more than one young warrior wail when the pain of transformation started, and all of them had disappeared. In the years after King Traj’s death, Maciji were killed or banished—the two terms amounted to the same thing. Queen Clyn declared it was the dual nature of my father that led him to betray his sovereign—which made no sense given the fact the King had been Maciji too. Had she known? Who could I ask?

  I waited for the time when the bridge would align, giving myself a quarter of an hour to get there, and then strode down the hallways, debating how to explain myself if I were discovered. My worry was unfounded, and in less than thirty minutes, I was racing across the sands of the desert.

  The moon’s silvery light peeked out from the clouds, this time much farther through its nighttime journey.

  I arrived in Datti, changed forms, this time into a jeraboa, a small rodent with large ears, and scurried through the streets back to where I’d first seen Ariya. I calculated the time and wondered how long her patrol would be. She said she was to report at ten, and no more than five hours had passed, probably less.

  The market was closed, but the frivolity near the garrison was still in full swing when I approached. I saw plenty of women, most clad in short skirts and fitted tops, as well as men, most wearing only a knee-length version of a skirt. A dozen soldiers, still in their armor, joined the fray, but I didn’t see Ariya among them. I was about to turn and leave when I spotted the arrogant Heval saunter into the group.

  Someone said something to him, and he laughed, throwing his head back as he chortled. After his prolonged guffaw, he pointed in the direction from which he’d come then grabbed a bottle and chugged the contents as he disappeared into the melee.

  I still had a little time before the bridge would align, so I darted along the buildings on the outside of the garrison until I arrived at where I’d seen Heval point. Only no one was here. I closed my eyes and let the very sensitive ears of this form take over, except the crowd was so loud it was near impossible to filter through their noise. I followed the alley and then pressed myself against the wall when I heard voices.

  “I’m not saying what it means, only, I don’t think—” a woman said.

  “If you keep talking like that, Ariya, even Heval won’t care enough to save you from a tribunal,” said another woman, her tone filled with frustration. “Don’t come to me, or any of the others, looking to garner sympathy for the demon-vipers. They’re evil—it’s our responsibility to eradicate them and the only way to make sure they don’t destroy us.”

  “But—”

  “No,” the woman snapped. “And if you don’t stop, people are going to wonder why you’re sympathizing with the enemy. Where is your loyalty?”

  A moment later, a lanky brunette rounded the corner and marched toward me, cursing under her breath. “. . . do not need this . . . crazy gunta.”

  I watched her walk by and then darted down the alley. When I got to the end, I saw Ariya’s red hair lift and fall on the breeze.

  She sighed and leaned against the wall of the building, its doors closed and boarded up. Ariya tilted her head toward the sky, her eyes closed, and mumbled, “By the light of the moon, by the light of the stars, wherever you walk, be true to who you are.”

  She opened her eyes and gasped.

  I braced myself for a shift as my gaze followed hers, but I froze.

  The clouds parted, and a sliver of the moon shone bright in the night sky. I blinked in surprise as a beam of light wavered and then disappeared from where it had landed on her hand. She curled her fingers around the edges of a silvery piece of parchment, and I squinted, trying to see what it was. Wrong angle and too small. I stepped forward, intending—again—to shift, only to dart back when I heard someone running down the alley toward us.

  “Ariya,” Havel yelled, bursting out of the side street at a full sprint.

  Ariya crumpled the paper and shoved it into the back of her skirt and then turned to face Havel with narrowed eyes.

  “You’ve got to stop this,” he said, slowing his pace as he approached. “You talked to Loose-lips Lebe about the Vipers? What the blazes is wrong with you?”

  She clenched her hands. “I don’t know why no one will listen to me. You all think—”

  He crossed the distance and slapped his hand over her mouth. “Stop.” He darted a look right, left, and then behind him before he continued. “If you persist in this madness, you will die with them. Is that what you want?”

  She shook her head, but her eyes flared with anger.

  He pulled her to him in a hug and kissed the top of her head.

  Ariya wiggled out of his embrace, grumbling, “I told you to stop doing that.”

  “Fine,” he said, smirking. “But let’s go. Aljanu’s group found one of them yesterday—interrogation turned up nothing. At least put on a smile when they behead him, so I can say Lebe is crazy. We need to hurry; you’re the last to check in.”

  Ariya waved toward the alley. �
��After you.”

  He shook his head, his blond hair brushing against his shoulders. “No, dearest. After you. I’ve already checked in.”

  The two of them walked down the alley, and I followed until they’d disappeared into the crowd by the garrison. With a glance up at the moon’s position, I realized I was out of time if I wanted to be back in one click. I debated, and while it was obvious the young woman had sympathies for us, she wasn’t garnering any support among her peers.

  There was no way for me to get to her now, but I could tell Synam I was going early to scout, and I could try to find her tomorrow, during the day. If I was here early enough, I’d find a way to get her to safety. Then maybe I could find out more—like why she was a sympathizer and if her father was from Sakari or if Bidi could be Maciji, too. Maybe there were more like her—which didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

  I returned to the gate, more determined than ever to help her. After shifting, I dug up my pack. The first crack of the bridge appeared just as the moon peeked out from behind two clouds. Another silvery beam pierced the darkness, sliding toward my hand, and I blinked. A fraction of a second later, the light was gone, so fast I thought I’d imagined it. Probably, the stress of the day.

  I leaned over my pack to pull out my cloak and swore, releasing a silvery piece of parchment I’d held in my hand—just like Ariya’s. And just like her, I picked it up and shoved it into the back of my pants before pulling my cloak around my shoulders and racing over the bridge. The paper seemed to burn against my skin, and I wondered what kind of power or creatures they had in Zafi besides the Bidi and Maciji—because I’d never heard of anything else. Ever.

  Unsurprisingly, the inhabitants of Kankara were still sleeping when I returned. I slunk back to my room, and after closing the door, I dropped several bricks of coal on the fire to heat the small space. By the flickering flame, I pulled out the silver paper and stared; the script was unlike anything I’d seen, swooping lines that blurred and moved until it became legible in Saki. Sihiri Bikin. Monster . . . celebration. Daren Sarkakan. Night of the dead? What did that even mean? I flipped the paper over and there was another inscription about the moonlight taking me to my host. I debated throwing the slip away, but Ariya had one too. If nothing else, I’d be able to show it to her. Maybe she’d have a better understanding of who or what power could deliver paper in the moonlight.

  I dozed fitfully, anxious about what tomorrow would bring.

  Chapter Four

  “We leave in an hour,” Synam said, interrupting my training. “If you’re going to join us, you best get dressed.”

  I wiped the sweat from my forehead before it dripped into my eye and grunted, a sound meant to indicate I’d heard. I’d awoken this morning, realizing how delusional I’d been the night before. To risk myself, my record of loyalty, and our possible triumph over Datti for a complete stranger was insane—even if she was beautiful and sympathized with our kind. Not only that, it was clear after last night she was failing to find others who agreed with her sympathies.

  Instead of racing off to Zafi, I’d spent the day here, in the dark, cold arena, battling foes that didn’t really exist, at least not outside of my head. The large cavern was mostly empty; only a few others still remained this late in the day, those with nothing better to do or no other way to stay warm.

  I wound my way through the other Saki, none of them Hamada, likely training in hopes of becoming part of the force against Zafi and the option of getting better rations. I watched their clumsy moves and shook my head. Not one of them would make it—at least not five years ago. Given our current population numbers in Sakari, all of the inept would probably become Hamada—only to seal our fate.

  I jogged to the communal bath, rinsed off and then wrapped a towel around my waist before running to my room. I toweled off and dressed in my Bidi armor—almost invisible on my chest—and Hamada leathers. I strapped on my blades and then slapped my palms over the weapons as I counted off. Two, four, six, eight, ten, twelve, and lucky number thirteen. Perfect. I tossed my cloak on and headed out to the gate.

  As soon as I stepped outside, I saw we had a problem. A big problem.

  Just as I’d instructed, all of the Hamada were gathered in units waiting to traverse the bridge to Zafi. All. Of. Them. I waded through the crowds, searching for Synam. Inside, his bald head would be a beacon, but outside in the howling wind, he’d be wearing a cap, just like most of the men. The closer to the front I got, the more faces I recognized. These were the more experienced units, and the expressions on the Hamada’s faces displayed the same confusion running through my mind. What the actual hoarfrost?

  I waded through the men to the front but found only more units and their individual leaders. What the . . . Who was leading this invasion? Where was Synam? The shuddering of the bridge aligning to the gate rumbled through the ground and vibrated up through my legs. I turned to march back to Kankara and spotted a light in the guardhouse. The general was waiting out the last minutes away from the frigid wind. Synam was getting old if he was allowing his comfort to take precedence over a mission. We simply couldn’t win with only a fraction of our numbers.

  Shoving men out of my way, I arrived at the guardhouse only a minute or two before the gate would open, my irritability flaring to all-out-rage

  “Rashi, Synam. What are you thinking?” I snapped, storming into the small post. “You can’t get half those men through the gate before it closes, and the last four or five units will never make it to the end before the gate closes in Zafi. What. Are. You. Freezing. Thinking?”

  The three men stopped their conversation, and each of them gave me their undivided attention. Synam was accompanied by his two lieutenants Maka and Aci, and the three wore similar furrowed expressions of frustration.

  “You already know,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “Queen Clyn sent the order to all of the Hamada,” Synam said. “She was near hysterics, screaming orders at the end. She wants vengeance, that’s for sure, but this is bitter madness.”

  “The best we can hope is that no one will die waiting to cross,” Maka said.

  There was no possibility of that if they had to wait two revolutions. Four hours was too long on this side, but no one would die in the heat of Zafi if the sun was down. I did some calculations in my head before I spoke. “If we divide in thirds, we should be able to reach Datti by midnight. Send the last two-thirds of Hamada to the keep, instructing half of them to return for the next two crossings. We won’t start marching until all the units are together on the other side.”

  Synam nodded. “We were just discussing a similar plan, but it’ll work better with you here. I’ll take Maka with me now, and he can scout ahead once we arrive. Aci, you’ll bring the next group. Jäg, will you bring the last third?”

  “Of course,” I replied. I glanced at the large group of men. “I’m going to take my units in now.”

  “I’ll follow with my men,” Aci said.

  I nodded at Synam. “See you on the other side.”

  I returned outside to the biting chill and herded my third of our force back into Kankara with Aci on my tail, doing the same.

  The next four hours crept by, painfully slow, but eventually we made it to Zafi. My body uncurled in the heat, and the men around me stumbled around in shock.

  “Pull it together,” Synam snapped as he marched into my battalion, smacking several of the Hamada on their shoulders. “We have an hour march ahead of us now.”

  Damn. “Sorry,” I said, grimacing. “I forgot about the distance between the gate and Datti.”

  The leader of the Hamada waved away my apology. “Don’t waste your breath. You got us here, and all alive, too. After we wipe out Datti, will we need to watch the gate? Will the Bidi retaliate?”

  I shook my head, surprised that he didn’t already know. “The Bidi can’t see the gate, and Datti is the nearest city. I don’t think we’ll have any issues returning tonight.”

  We revi
ewed the plan of assault, which units would take which area of the city, and then began our march. The overcast sky kept the light at a minimum, and I reviewed the plan with each of the unit leaders as we traveled. I described what part of the city each of them was responsible for after the wall came down. The goal was destruction of the Tadaan first and foremost.

  The heat of the desert waned over the march, enough that the temperature was almost comfortable. When we arrived on the outskirts of Datti, I watched one of our men slip into the darkness and place a detonator against the wall. The minerals and particles inside the small bomb would cause a disproportionately massive explosion. Time slowed as he struck a piece of flint to stone, and a small fuse sparked in the dark night. My heart thumped against my ribs, but this was my chance for vengeance. I gritted my teeth, and a moment later, the young man sprinted across the sand, diving to the ground as an explosion rocked the ground. Sand blasted, spraying a cloud of grit into the air, and my ears rang from the noise.

  I blinked, and men swarmed toward the hole in the wall from either side of me, their shouts of war a dull roar over the ringing. I tensed, gearing up to sprint, and suddenly, the clouds parted, and moonlight filtered through the dust and smoke.

  Chapter Five

  I blinked, and my jaw dropped. Shaking my head, I tried to clear my vision because something had to be wrong. I was no longer in the desert of Zafi, and I wasn’t in the bitter-cold tundra of Sakari. I had no freezing clue where I was because the base of this lush knoll was like a dream. The thick green grass extended up the entire hill, and at the top, a stunning castle rose into the night sky. Dark mist scuttled over the ground, and the air was deliciously cool and perfumed by verdant growth.