The Exodus

by Ali Winters

“This,” he said pulling a dark red rose from behind his back, presenting it to her, “is for you.” Silas brushed the velvety flower’s petals along her cheek, sending tingles across her sensitive skin.

  She took the gift and inhaled its sweet scent. Silas wrapped both arms around her and pulled her closer as he nuzzled the crook of her neck, trailing soft kisses across her shoulder.

  A single tear fell into her open palm. The memories of those times struck a chord deep inside her heart. So much had changed all because of the lies, the betrayal, and the hurt that they had caused each other. Mistakes had been made, but would never be able to be made right again. Yeva didn’t know if she would change things if given the chance. She’d had a taste of what could be possible if she were able to defeat Silas at his own dirty game.

  She turned her thoughts back to her situation at hand. There had to be a way out, there was always a way out. Silas was a sentimental old fool—he never made a move without ensuring a way of escape.

  Yeva slid her long legs off the bed and stood. Moving to the wall, she examined every line, every crack, and crevice with her fingertips, feeling for something, anything, that might hold the key to her escape. It would be here, it was just a matter of finding it.

  A chill ran down her spine as Silas drew near. His energy was unmistakable. The ice to her fire. She straightened and stepped away from the wall, standing in the center of the room.

  Golden light poured through the line that marked the door, bringing it into existence. Silas walked through the opening and stopped at seeing her so close. His wide eyes darted to her exposed midriff and back to her face.

  “I did not expect to see you up and moving around so soon,” he said.

  “I am feeling stronger today,” she responded hoping that he didn’t notice the slight tremor in her voice, her nerves had spiked as he caught her moving about the room instead of lying weakly in her bed.

  She had been shut away from the world for so long, deprived of its joy and happiness; her heart ached for the time she’d lost. Too many years had passed since she had walked on the earth’s soil, or strolled barefoot along a sandy beach, dipping her toes in the waters that were the first to be called home to life. She longed to lay in a meadow, surrounded by flowers and nature, to breathe the fresh air deep into her lungs, and to watch the sun set over the horizon.

  Yeva had woken from her cursed sleep only to be shut away again, locked within these cold and lonely stonewalls.

  Alone.

  The word echoed within the emptiness of her heart, she was never meant to be alone. But here she was, prisoner to the man she had once loved. Yeva called upon the mask she wore to hide her feelings. No, she would not allow him to see how he affected her. She would secure her escape and Silas would never hold such power over her again. He would pay for his unjust cruelty.

  The door closed, stone scraping against stone as it sealed.

  “I am glad to see you are healing quickly,” Silas said.

  He set the chalice down on the small table. Yeva chastised herself; she hadn’t noticed it was in his hands. She needed to keep her wits about her and pay attention if she were to escape. The fact that this not-so-insignificant detail had escaped her until he’d drawn attention to it made it very clear she had a lot more healing to do.

  But had he noticed her distraction?

  Knowing Silas, it had been a test to see how far along she was. And Yeva had given more away than she’d meant. Her face remained impassive.

  “You have removed your bandages. You should not have done so,” he admonished gently as he crossed the room. For one short moment, Yeva thought he would gather her in his arms, but he stopped short, though near enough for her to close the distance with one step if she’d wanted. Her weakness was playing games with her emotions. It only showed how far she still was from healing.

  “I wanted to see.” Yeva let him take her hand and lead her back to the bed like a child. The tenderness in his touch told her that he still cared; he didn’t even try to hide it. But it was too late—the love between them was broken. Silas should have thought about that before he had betrayed her.

  She sat on the edge of the bed as he kneeled before her. His gray eyes sparkled and swirled like a clear night sky. A strand of blond hair fell forward into his face as his hands grazed her scared hip, tracing the lines up to her ribs, and forcing an involuntary shiver to run through her.

  “Are you cold?” he asked. His gaze snapping up to hers.

  Yeva exhaled and shook her head. “No,” she said. Her voice was weak, coming out strangled.

  Held captive, Silas mesmerized her with the confident dance of his hands as he worked swiftly, rubbing ointment over her injury, and applying a fresh bandage to her wounds. The smell of lavender and peppermint floated up, instantly filling her with a sense of peace as the heat and pain that radiated through her middle cooled and became a dull hum.

  He remembered, she thought, staring down at his fingers fastening the ends of the dressing. Abruptly he stood and crossed over to the table. Silas picked up her chalice and brought her the golden cup.

  “Drink.”

  She took the cup from him, her fingers grazing his. The familiar electricity of his touch ran up her arm and straight to her heart. Glancing up through her thick lashes, she wondered if he had meant to do that or if it was just an old habit that he was unaware of. She tilted back her head and gulped the liquid down.

  Silas reached up and used his thumb to wipe away a dot of moisture at the corner of her mouth.

  “Silas,” Yeva pleaded. “I want to see the sun again.”

  “You will, Yeva.”

  “When?” She had meant to keep silent while he was here, but the need to be free took over, demanding she ask. Freedom. That word filled her with such sorrow and joy. She needed to be free.

  “I do not know when, but I promise you will see it again.”

  And with that, he turned and crossed the room. He placed his hand against stone, opening the door. Silas stepped through as if he couldn’t get away fast enough, sealing the door back into place, and leaving her alone once more.

  Numb with the mix of anger and sadness overwhelming her senses, Yeva sat on the bed unable to move. Her breath came in slow and shallow gasps and she closed her eyes, swallowing her feelings, pushing them down, and locking them up. She needed to think clearly now. Emotion would only sabotage everything she strove for.

  That was one lesson she would never allow herself to forget.

  After a while, Yeva got up and walked back to the spot she had been at before Silas came to visit and resumed her search for whatever it was that would free her.

  There was no telling how long she’d searched; her head ached with the strain of the effort. She grew stronger each and every day. But she was still so weak. It frustrated her that she could not heal within minutes like she’d grown accustomed to.

  Her side had begun to ache. Yeva limped, favoring her injured side, as she crossed the room to the corner that held the warmth of power. She slid down the wall and rested her head against the cool stone. An imperfection in the wall poked out where her temple rested.

  Pulling back, she examined it. Yeva pressed her finger against the bump. It was small, yet heat flowed through her. A familiar strength made her heart race—the beat loudly pounded in her ears giving her strength. Yeva removed her hand and the thrum of power faded, leaving her feeling more refreshed than she had since she’d been on the island. Her eyes sparkled with an inkling of comprehension. Reaching to the far side of the room, Yeva felt around for more of the same. Yet there was nothing.

  Tilting her chin up, she examined the area above her head. There! She pushed herself to the tips of her toes and stretched. Her little finger brushed against a small nub. A chill zapped her. She jerked her hand away and stumbled backward gasping from the slight drain of that brief touch.

  “No,” she murmured. “He couldn’t have brought me here…” A sly grin formed over Yeva’s lips as u
nderstanding dawned.

  FIVE

  CAMIRA

  THE SUN STARTED its journey below the horizon, setting the sky on fire in brilliant hues of red, orange, and violet. Carcasses of animals lay scattered around her, their bones exposed and bleached by the harsh desert sun. Red sand beneath Camira’s feet radiated heat against the quickly cooling air. Her hair shifted over her shoulder with the movement of the evening breeze. She’d spent the day watching the sun cross the sky overhead.

  Camira took one last glance behind her to the cave opening she had called home for longer then she cared to think. Absentmindedly, she placed a hand across her ribs; they had healed nicely—all things considered. The fight between Hunters and Reapers had left her powers drained, leaving her on the verge of fading from existence. She had come to this barren waste broken and injured.

  No one had looked for her.

  They must have given up on her thinking her dead. It’s the only thing that could explain their complete and utter abandonment. Though, that reasoning didn’t soften the blow at all. Bitterness tightened Camira’s chest. She had fought for them—all of them—and this was the thanks she got.

  Abandoned.

  So easily banished from their thoughts as if her existence meant nothing at all. Was she no more than fodder used to distract their enemy until the chosen one could take care of the Hunters?

  That insipid blonde Hunter had attacked her, leaving her hanging onto her rapidly fading existence by a thread. Shocked, Camira had watched as her allies deserted her without a second thought, running away when the balance started to shift, leaving her to whatever fate handed her. With her side ripped open by the attack, Camira vanished to the furthest place her powers would reach, lacking the power to make it to G.R.I.M. Headquarters. Hours, then days passed before she realized no one would come for her. They wouldn’t come because they weren’t looking for her. Her only saving grace had been the fact she was a Reaper and not a mortal. It was easily a wound that would have killed any lesser being.

  Nivian should have been her friend; she should have tried to help her rather than that Hunter. Camira had expected many things from Nivian, but left for dead in favor of some guy—and their enemy at that—wasn’t one of them.

  If that’s the way she wants it, then it’s all right by me. Camira thought bitterly.

  Anger burned through her veins, and she ground her teeth. But now she was healed and strong again. Camira’s lips contorted into a sneer as she fought back the tears that threatened to spill over the actions she’d been forced to take in order to survive. The edges of her fragile psyche cracked, on the verge of splintering into a thousand shards. Camira refused, she would not let that happen. Instead, she would build a wall of ice, protecting it, hardening her resolve. Anger was better. She would feed her anger and use it to become stronger. It was better than breaking. Forced to do the unthinkable in order to save herself was not something she’d take lightly. It was their fault.

  When she’d vanished from the fight, giving up on what would turn out to be a losing battle for her, she’d ended up here. A dry and lonely wasteland, with only the sounds of the wind for company. Camira had been so weak she hadn’t remembered to set a destination and ended up in this desert with her energy fading fast. Stars twinkled above her head as she lay on her back in the still burning sands, promising to give her a final, beautiful view of consciousness. A sad farewell to an existence she had given everything to, and in the end, had been given nothing in return.

  Desperation had taken hold as a rodent scurried by and paused briefly. But it was long enough. In her final attempt to cling to the thing she called a life, Camira reached out, exposing the life thread of the wretched thing and severed it. With its pathetic energy gathered in her bloodied palm, she pulled it into herself. The small creature dropped to its side, the muscles and skin shriveling and dissolving away into dust, leaving only the remains of a skeleton behind.

  It wasn’t enough, but it allowed her to hold on, restoring a small measure of her strength. Over the following days and nights, Camira continued to twist and warp her powers. She learned to attract the various animals in the area, calling to them, and then draining their life force so that she might continue to heal. To abuse her powers in such a horrendous fashion went against her very nature. Though, if she wanted to live to see another day, there was no other choice.

  The wound had healed, her flesh repaired to its former, flawless state. Though lingering phantom pain from the injury still ached, haunting her with an ever present thrumming.

  It had been weeks… or months, she wasn’t quite sure. Mortal time had always been too worthless to bother learning. The sun and moon had circled her in a seemingly eternal dance, each passing threatening to wipe her past from the dredges of time and take her future with it, only to leave her in some strange limbo.

  She could stay here for a long time and continue as she had been, barely surviving as she restored her power. But it would be a long time before she would be back to full strength.

  Caspian… His name lingered on the far recesses of her consciousness and she allowed her mind to wander for the first time in this hell she’d been banished to. Pushing its way forward, happier thoughts demanded her attention. Memories of his piercing midnight eyes and long black hair pulled back into a low ponytail brought a smile to her dry lips. He would be surprised when he finally saw her. Maybe then, he would realize it was her that his heart belonged to.

  Caspian.

  He would not have abandoned her so. Surely, he would have come to look for her if he’d had any inclination she’d survived. Caspian was cool, but he was never heartless. He protected them, even the ones who didn’t deserve it.

  The Hunters had nearly destroyed her before she ever had the chance to tell Caspian how she felt. He never had the chance to return her feelings. It was her own fault. Camira vowed to herself that she would tell him how she felt the next time she saw him.

  She dug deep, pulling up the reserves of her will power. She would heal, but not if she stayed still. She would find a place that would restore her, then she would tell him everything—lay her heart open before him. Caspian would see she was the right one for him, see that Nivian was not worth his time. He would see that she was worth more than the one who ran around with the enemy as if this war had never existed.

  One step forward, then another. Camira dragged her feet along the hot sands of the desert as she clutched at her side wishing her power had returned enough to transport to Mophar.

  She moved onward, toward the vanishing sun that set the sky ablaze as it dipped below the horizon. Heat blurred the distant landscape, bringing forth images of an ocean she knew didn’t exist.

  A hill loomed before her and she began her steady climb. If this is what it felt like to be mortal, she was glad to be a Reaper. She never wanted to experience this feeling ever again. Her feet slipped with every step, making her progress agonizingly slow. The sun disappeared below the earth and a dark violet sky overhead showcased the first stars of the night.

  Camira rested halfway to the top, falling to her knees. Her power drained by the exertion of her hike. She wiped a hand over her brow and breathed heavy before collapsing onto her hands. She waited silently for her strength to return. The last rays of light vanished and the stars came out in full force, but her strength refused to return even with her slow, steady breaths.

  From the corner of her eye, a movement caught her attention. A rabbit popped its head from a burrow and sniffed the air. Camira stilled. Slowly, the animal was fully emerged from its home and near. Watchful eyes waited patiently as it inched ever closer. It paused and sat up sniffing the air before taking its last, fatal step in the earthly realm.

  Camira’s hand shot out and grabbed it by the neck. With a wave of her hand over its head as it squirmed in her gasp, she called to its life force, exposing the dull glowing thread. Quickly, she reached for her scythe kept in her pocket and pulled it out. The weapon expanded in her hand
and she sliced the thread, dropping the now lifeless form of the creature to the ground.

  Returning the scythe, she gathered the life force in her hands. Camira closed her eyes and pressed the energy to her chest, allowing it to sink into her and become part of her. Icy wind rushed through her veins and she struggled to breathe. As quickly as it had come on, the sensation faded. The sensation of power as she consumed it had felt odd at first, but she’d quickly grown to love the rush.

  It was enough, for now. Enough to get her just a little further. Enough for her to hang on just a little longer. Enough to keep moving.

  Pushing up off her knees, she stood and began walking once more. Each step still pained her, taking just a little more of her precious energy.

  The sun had set completely as she crested the hill. Lights of a city sparkled in the distance. Relief brought tears to her eyes and she let them pour over, shamelessly allowing herself to cry as she once more fell to her hands and knees.

  Praise Gaia. Praise Gaia. Praise Gaia! The chant rang though her mind over and over. She’d made it to a place that would save her. Abundant life stood before her. A saving grace. Either by her own hand or by a fellow Reaper, she would be saved. She would continue to exist.

  Now was not the time to stop. Now was not the time to wait. Now was the time to move forward and claim what was hers. She forced her weary body to stand and move. One step and then another. Camira was determined to make it. To pass this test Gaia had seen fit to put her through. It had to mean something.

  Soon, this struggle she never should have had to endure would be over. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, lifting one side in a smirk. So much power awaited her below.

  SIX

  NIVIAN

  NIVIAN SIPPED HER steaming mug of coffee, enjoying the warmth that spread through her with each swallow. Her left hand subconsciously found its way to her pocket, twisting the golden chain of Kain’s silent watch around her fingers. The moment Silas removed the mark on Kain the hands had ceased to move and remained frozen ever since.