by Aimee Moore
Dal lay there, eyes still closed, and betrayal lanced through me, stinging my eyes. This cannot be happening.
“Do something!” I said to Dal, who ignored me completely.
The other two Kraw laughed, and the one who had me by the hand pushed me against the wall, lifting me and spreading my legs.
I kicked and pushed and fought, but the massive Kraw only pinned his bulk between my thighs and held me in place as easily as if I were weightless. Perhaps I was to them. They laughed, exchanging banter, and my wild gaze shot between their eyes, alight with lust and mischief.
The one not holding me began to palm his massive hand over my breasts, and tears stung my eyes as I realized what was going to happen. I shoved and pushed at the monolith Kraw some more, but my squirms were causing a new problem. The Kraw pressed between my thighs was grinding something long against my groin, and already it was violating.
I gasped, struggling so hard that my arms and legs ached from the stress, but the second Kraw not holding me was working at my skirt anyway. Their movements had become quick and excited, which terrified me more. I leaned forward and bit the one holding me, and he roared and backhanded me, white hot ice licked its way up the side of my face as I went numb and saw stars. The pain ebbed in slowly as my vision refused to return to normal.
Dal's voice rang through the space and my attackers stilled. The one holding me up backed away, and I crumpled to the floor.
The two Kraw voices barked and growled toward Dal, but Dal only responded in bored tones. I opened the eye that wasn't swollen just enough to find my blanket – which was a few feet from where I had fallen, and I pushed myself toward it in an effort to cover my abused flesh.
Pulling the blanket over myself, I closed my eyes and lay back, head spinning, heart thundering, as the three Kraw in the room exchanged words. Finally, the sound of a fist meeting skin produced a heavy grunt, then footsteps crunched in the dirt. I hunched up under my blanket, expecting the assault to continue as my heartbeat threatened to black me out completely.
But the door closed. Silence rang for a time. Then there were more footsteps. A hand was on me. I flinched away, wondering where I would find the strength to fight.
“No,” I said, hunching up more and shoving at the hand, squeezing my eyes shut.
“I must see your eye,” Dal whispered.
I opened my good eye. Dal was kneeling next to me, hazel eyes soaking into me with all the sadness and intensity of a heavy spring rain. I relaxed my tense muscles, except for the ones needed to glare.
“Your fault,” I said into the space between us. “You could have stopped them.”
The spring rain turned to frost. Dal glared at my good eye, then turned his attention on the one that was puffing closed. Large fingers trailed down the numb parts of my skin. Dal curled a finger under my chin and lifted it, turning my head to the side for him to see. He withdrew his hand with a frown.
“Fragile,” Dal muttered.
I huffed an angry sigh and yanked away from him. Tears began to leak down the side of my face, and I turned away from Dal. I let my hair fall around my throbbing face in a red curtain, putting my shoulder between myself and Dal, not wanting to share my misery with him. It was mine. It was all I had that was mine. Even my hatred was being taken, replaced by fear.
“No,” Dal said. Large hands came under my legs and around my back, and I let off a squeak as I was lifted.
“What are you doing?”
“No room for this.”
“For what? Put me down.”
“Pity.”
“Pity? You have none. You sat there and let them do that to me. You're just as much of a beast as the rest of them, Kraw. Put me down and leave me be.”
Dal set me down in the middle of the room by the basin of water that had been sloshed about. A large hand swiped my red hair away from my face, revealing an angry Dal in my vision.
“Open your eyes, Sera,” Dal growled.
“I can't, it's swollen shut.”
“No. Look at things you can't see.”
I glared at Dal. “You make no sense. Leave me.”
Dal let off a large sigh, taking a corner of my blanket and dipping it in the water, scrubbing at the dirt on my face. Warmth began to curl up my stomach and chase away the misery. The Kraw warrior tending me was gentle, more so than I thought possible as he cleaned my tender wound.
“Open my eyes to what?” I asked after a time.
Dal's gaze flicked from my cheek to my good eye, then back to my cheek again. “They wanted to take.”
“You think I don't know that? You think I didn't realize what that beast was rubbing against me?”
He frowned. “I am one Kraw, they are two,” he said after a pause.
“You're bigger than both of them. Thinner, but still bigger.”
“If I cannot make them stop, they injure me and take from you anyway. If I show you kindness, they will break you and break me harder. See what is around you, not just what lies in front of you.”
Dal scrubbed at the side of my face that throbbed, and I winced away, squeezing my arms around myself. He dropped the corner of the blanket, letting a long exhale out of his nose. We watched each other, both with a troubled crease in our brow.
“You are untouched,” Dal whispered at last.
I scowled. “What does that mean? Look at me, I didn't do this to myself.”
A muscle in Dal's large jaw flexed. “Untouched by a man.”
My scowl smoothed away, and warmth rode into my cheeks. I turned away, pulling the blanket tighter around myself. “I was intended for a man, but Kraw killed him.”
“Kraw will break you.”
“And I suppose this was a sweet whisper?” I gestured at the side of my face.
Dal turned away, tense. “Kraw will break you when they take.”
I searched Dal's face for more information. But the only thing that was clear was that I needed to avoid being violated again, or next time I might not make it out alive. “What should I do?” I whispered.
Dal faced me again, looking me over. His gaze touched my tangled red hair, my swollen face, and the bare shoulder that my blanket didn't cover. With careful movements, he poured some of the water into the dirt, stirring a thick finger through it to make mud, and looked back up at me.
He raised the mud to my face and began to smear it on me, making more mud to spread through my hair. I understood at once. I reached down with my hands and took some of the mud as well, slathering it over my neck and shoulders.
No one wants to be intimate with something as filthy as I was going to be. I spread more up and down my arms. I scowled as I remembered the way the Kraw's hard length felt between my legs, and I clawed into the mud, raising it to my hair and scrubbing with fevered desperation.
I needed to be ugly right now. I needed to be one with the dirt. It was all I wanted in the world anymore, to be one with this basic element at my feet. I looked down to realize that the blanket had fallen to pool around my waist, revealing my breasts to Dal.
I flicked my gaze to him to see hazel eyes dart away from me, body rigid.
Anger flushed through me, mixing with embarrassment and shame.
“Do I disgust you? Do breasts on this insignificant creature make you sick?” I threw a handful of mud at Dal. “Well I'm sorry that this particular insect happens to be female, maybe your next cellmate will be less weak and pitiful.”
Dal wiped the splat of mud off his pectoral with a flick of his finger, raising eyes to mine. “Insect. What is an insect.”
“A bug. A creature of little importance. Easily squashed. Me.”
Dal let a hard exhale out of his nose, frowning at me. He picked up more mud and began to smear it over my chest, avoiding my breasts. His hands were so large that he could not avoid grazing my nipples now and again, despite his efforts, and jolts of pleasure shot through me, colliding with confusion. I watched as Dal spread the mud between my collar bones, and then again on my stom
ach.
He spoke in a soft rumble as he worked.
“Humans and Kraw are not so different. You are small, yes, and you are fragile. But Kraw men see you for a reason.”
This stole the fight from me, and my anger fled on its heels. “What are you saying?”
His gaze met mine for a moment before returning to his task. Still, Dal's body was rigid and tense. I looked down, watching as the large hands spread mud over the flat of my stomach with careful, almost shaking precision. Dal dropped his hand, and I raised my lashes to him.
“There is not enough mud on this planet,” he murmured.
I sucked in a soft breath. “You've ignored me for months, as if I am none more than a bug on the wall. How did I go from that to something that Kraw see?”
Dal gave me a thoughtful expression. “If you are an insect, then even my world has one like you.” He looked to the side as he considered, then back to me. “I do not know the word. I believe your world has one. It has wings of many different colors.”
“A butterfly?” I said.
“Perhaps. This one feeds on others, gliding over water, defying predators with its beauty and wit.”
I frowned, searching my memory for flying water bugs. I could think of only one that had wings of different colors, and even that was a strange technicality, for the colors were iridescent, not painted such as a butterfly. I met Dal's gaze. “A dragonfly?”
With a slight smile, Dal stuck one large finger in the mud and drew the creature he was speaking of.
“I'm like a dragonfly to you?”
Dal gave a nod. “To Kraw, the dragonfly is both beautiful and cunning.”
I tucked mud crusted hair behind my ear. “Butterflies are even lovelier.”
“What is this butterfly.” Dal said.
I drew one in the mud, next to the dragonfly.
“What does it feed upon?” Dal asked with a frown.
I continued to draw pretty patterns on the butterfly's wings as I spoke. “The nectar of flowers. The wings can be quite exquisite, and butterflies are lovely, soft bugs that have a place in our literature for their gentleness. Children delight in their presence.”
Dal gave a sour grunt. “You are not that. You are a dragonfly.”
I smiled at Dal, and his eyes slanted up at mine with simmering amusement. Returning my gaze to the mud, I swiped a hand through our drawings, picking up more mud and smearing it across my breasts in places Dal had missed. I pulled the hem of my skirt up higher on my thigh, spreading mud over my legs, and Dal's body became tense again as he moved away.
I hesitated, then changed the subject. “Why are you here, Dal? You never told me.”
“It is of no importance.”
“It's important to me, you've kept me safe.”
Dal let off a heavy sigh. “You may not give me your trust if you learn the truth.”
“My trust is important to you?” I continued to coat myself in the cold mud.
“I am a traitor.”
My muddy hands stilled on my knee. “What?” I glanced over at Dal, who was sitting against the wall, head back, eyes closed.
“All Kraw clans come for one purpose. I was chief of my clan. I defied the Warlord, and so my clan was removed.”
I watched Dal; mud forgotten. “Removed? Why did you defy him?”
Dal shifted, brow furrowed. “Kraw have been ordered here. To heal your world, we must eliminate blight. What that blight is, we do not know, and so we kill our way to the truth. My clan followed these orders until we marched upon a small human village. I raised my ax to destroy a mewling child laying in the arms of its dead mother.” Dal held his hands apart to indicate a child as small as an infant. My breath caught.
“It was so small. Its face, round and angry, made me think of my son.”
“You have a son?” I whispered.
Dal kept on. “I picked the child up. And it was not harmful. Loud, yes, but not harmful. Even in its helplessness, it waved angry fists at me as it roared.” Dal held one large hand out, cradling the air. “How could I snuff this creature's life? This creature that was as innocent as my own son. I looked at the battle, watching my clan cut down innocents, and saw not a single spark among any of those we slaughtered. This small creature would surely become one of these innocents, harmless, undeserving of the senseless death we spread.”
“A spark?” I furrowed my brow.
Dal nodded at me, dropping his hand. “I made a decision that cost me everything. I halted the battle, hoping the Warlord would understand my wisdom. Understand that Kraw resources were better used elsewhere. Perhaps, on those with the spark. With the power to resist.”
I searched Dal's gaze, but he took a soft breath and leaned his head back against the hut again, closing his eyes.
“You have a son,” I said.
“Had,” Dal whispered.
I let the sadness seep into the silence before letting curiosity give me a tentative nudge. “Your... wife? Do Kraw marry?”
“Kraw mate. My mate died with my son in her arms.”
“How?” I breathed.
“The Warlord’s orders. Fire. I was forced to watch. That is what becomes of those who defy Kraw ways.”
My mouth popped open in horror. “What kind of savage race does such a thing to their own people?”
“Do not mistake brutality for savagery, Sera, for Kraw are ripe with purpose and duty. Rules are the foundation of our great existence.”
“And you broke them.”
“And so they broke what was mine.” Dal's voice was soft, with a slight crack.
I rose, wrapping the blanket around my muddied self, padding over to Dal. He did not open his eyes or acknowledge my presence. I put one mud stained hand on his massive arm. “I'm so sorry, Dal.”
“I am at fault for their deaths. A traitor's death is a slow, painful one, bestowed only by the Warlord himself. I am deserving.”
“You're going to die.” The realization whooshed out of me.
“I have already died; they cannot do worse to me.”
“Then why do you keep yourself strong? You are trying to live, I see it.”
“I have a purpose here. When I am gone, the purpose will be no more.”
“Dal, you can't die.”
Dal sighed, rough and deep. “I can, and I will. Do not waste emotion on the dead, Sera. It will not spare my life, and it will not bring your family back.”
I dropped my hand as if I'd been burned. I looked around, chewing on what Dal had said. After a minute, I raised my eyes to Dal, who still had his closed. “Dal, what did you mean by a spark among the people in the village? People carry some sort of spark? Are the Kraw searching for an item?”
Dal gave an almost imperceptible nod. “You call them Gifted.”
“I don't understand. Our Gifted carry some sort of object? A spark?”
“Kraw are not human. We see that which you do not, and we see a spark within your Gifted.”
My mouth dropped. “How? What do you see?”
Dal raised his head from the wall, his gaze touching mine. “We see energy. It makes light.”
“Where? On their hands, where the magic happens? Their heads? All around them?”
Dal shook his head slowly. “No, Sera. It glows brightest here,” Dal put one finger to my chest, “and your spark is brighter than all.”
Chapter 4
The Sparks Among Us
The cold wind on my tongue reminded me to close my gaping mouth. My world shifted as my clumsy brain took apart what I'd just heard and tried to put it back together again in the battered box that had held my existence until now. The pieces didn’t fit.
Dal gave me a searching look before resting his head against the wall again and closing his eyes, as if he hadn't just sucked the air right out of me.
“Dal, are you saying that you see the same thing in me that you see in the Gifted?”
“Kraw did not keep you because of the color of your hair, though such a pigment is
rare. You are here because your energy is more intense than the others.”
“Then why did you tell me that they kept me because of my hair?”
Dal shook his head. “You have fire, it shows in the flame of your hair. Your wall is still high, Sera.”
I looked down at my chest and saw nothing. I felt nothing unusual, just the erratic beating of my heart. I frowned at Dal. “Are Kraw prone to bouts of lunacy?”
A small smile tugged at the corners of Dal's mouth. “I am beginning to think so.”
I sat back, looking at my hands. Plain, muddied hands that had done simple things all my life. Braided daisy chains in the spring, splashed cool water on my sister in the sun, tended large crops in the summers, and kneaded soft, elastic dough in the mornings. There was nothing remarkable here. Nothing about me that even hinted at being one of the Gifted.
“You doubt yourself,” said Dal, the low murmur of his voice steadying me.
“I doubt you.”
“You need look no further than the fact that you still draw breath to confirm my words.”
I stopped examining my plain hands and looked up at Dal. “Why didn't you tell me sooner?”
“Why did your caregivers not tell you?”
“My parents?” I shook my head. “Because there's nothing special about me. I'm the same normal girl as everyone else in my village. I can't even light a match properly.”
“You can, and you will learn,” Dal said.
Over the next few days, I convinced Dal to tear my blanket apart in strategic places to fashion an unattractive sack to wear as a shirt. I was tangled and dirty, donning the lumpy, tied blanket shirt with a pride that my loved ones would have been horrified at.
It didn't matter. The ugly garment fell to my thighs, layering over my frayed, filthy skirt. Hatred may have been my banner, but filth was my shield.
And now, I stood in the middle of the frigid hut as Dal walked around me in slow circles like a stalking wild cat.
“I'm telling you, I don't know how to use this spark,” I said, crossing my arms. “I think you're wrong.”