Kora (Kora Series Book 1)

by Marina Epley

  “Ace, are you some kind of masochist?” Wreck asks calmly. “Why are you behaving as if you truly enjoy yourself as I’m beating the hell out of you? Or was I too gentle last time? It sure sounds like you want a repeat performance.”

  “You can’t protect her forever,” one of Ace’s friends says.

  “Protect her?” Wreck laughs. “Can’t you see what she did with the chimera? Can you even imagine what she could do with any of you?”

  “Everybody knows it was you who killed the chimera,” Ace spits.

  “She not only killed it,” Wreck exclaims, “but chose the largest one I’ve ever seen!”

  Tartis watches the scene unfold with a satisfied smile, remaining quiet. I wish I could punch him in his smug face.

  “She’s not one of us,” Ace says. “She’s an outsider!”

  “She passed our test!” Wreck yells, turning to the crowd. “She proved without a doubt that she has the ranger spirit!”

  The crowd begins whistling and shouting again. Ace snarls and lunges at me. Wreck kicks him squarely in the stomach, putting Ace on his knees. Two of Ace’s friends charge into Wreck, grabbing hold of his hoodie while throwing punches at his head. He slips the punches, kicks one guy in the knee and elbows the other in the face. The first ranger falls, grabbing his injured leg and the second staggers backward, his nose bloodied and likely broken. Wreck kicks the fallen guy in the head, knocking him out cold.

  “We must kill her!” Ace shouts, rising back to his feet.

  “You’ll have to kill me first!” Wreck bares his teeth, snapping open a switchblade. “Come on then! I swear I’ll cut the next one’s throat!”

  I stand frozen in place, just watching as if I’m a statue instead of a living thing. I hate myself for being so passive, but a weak, submissive part within me doesn’t allow me to think clearly. I’m reverting back into a servant, letting others take control over my life. Ace brandishes a gun as Wreck steps in front of me, acting as a human shield. I still don’t react.

  “Think you can move faster than a bullet?” Ace asks, smiling. “Stand aside or I’ll put one between your eyes.”

  “Go ahead, coward,” Wreck says.

  What is he doing? I think in horror. Is he really willing to die for me? But why?

  “Move away,” I mutter, but he doesn’t listen.

  The crowd grows deathly quiet. Nobody interferes, and I can’t understand why Tartis doesn’t do anything. Does he want Wreck, his best fighter, to be killed?

  “Burn in hell, psycho,” Ace smirks, thumbing back the hammer of the gun.

  Wreck doesn’t budge an inch, as if immortal. Maxine emerges from the crowd a moment later and presses a shotgun into the back of Ace’s head.

  “I don’t really think you want to shoot him,” she says in a soft voice. “Do yourself a favor. Drop your gun before I blow your damn head off.”

  Ace’s smile fades as he hurriedly executes her request.

  “Maxine!” Tartis thunders. “What are you doing here?”

  She doesn’t pay him any attention, slamming the butt of her shotgun against Ace’s head. He drops to the ground. Nobody attempts to stop her. She slowly picks up the handgun, and moves to stand beside me. I feel greatly relieved.

  “What are you doing here?” Tartis repeats angrily. “You’re not one of us. I order you to leave!”

  “I don’t care about your orders,” she snorts. “I’m not letting anyone hurt this girl. She passed your test, didn’t she? By rule, you must allow her to become a ranger.”

  “My soldiers don’t wish her to be amongst us,” Tartis protests.

  “Oh really?” Maxine turns to the crowd. “Do you want this girl to become one of you?”

  Most of the rangers burst out with shouts of approval. I hate them all. They remained silent while Ace was attacking me, and only offered support after Wreck and Maxine stood by my side.

  “Fine,” Tartis says, obviously displeased. “She may become a ranger, should she manage to return from her spirit journey. I give her three days to prepare for the ritual.”

  “A spirit journey?” I mutter. “Is that another test?”

  “Are you frightened?” Tartis smiles.

  “Why should I be frightened?”

  “You’ll likely die during the ritual, if your spirit proves weak.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “The score now stands two to one,” Wreck says, leading me back toward his shack. “I’m winning by the way.”

  I follow along, feeling frustrated because Maxine slipped away before Wreck and I could get past the crowd. I hoped to speak with her.

  “You didn’t rescue me this time,” I say. “Maxine did. Why did she help us?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t quite say she was helping us. She was only helping you. I imagine she would be happy to see me shot. She hates me.”

  “I think she kinda likes you.”

  “Nah, that’s crazy,” he snorts. “Maxie is always doing something mean to me. She’s unpredictable. Someday, I’m gonna kick her ass.”

  I can’t tell whether he’s joking or not. It’s almost impossible to be sure with him.

  “I want to see Tanya,” I say, changing the subject.

  “She’s not in the village.”

  “What? Where is she?”

  “Relax. She’s fine. Some rangers took her to an old lady who lives in the woods. It’s really kinda nice there, you know. She’ll take good care of your little friend.”

  I don’t like it. I’d hoped to reunite with Tanya after passing my test. But she may be better off being away from here. Maybe she’ll be safer there, because this village doesn’t seem like a very good place for kids.

  Once we’re inside his cabin, I sit tiredly on the floor and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me I’d have to pass a second test?”

  “The spirit journey isn’t a test,” he answers, plopping down across from me and offering a flask of water. “It’s an initiation. I thought I’d have time to better prepare you for the ritual, because rangers typically only take a spirit journey a month or two after killing a chimera. I’ve never heard about anybody being given only three days to prepare. Tartis must be hoping you’ll fail.”

  “What will I have to do?” I ask, splashing water on my face, washing away the blood. “Fight someone else?”

  “Nah, you ain’t gonna fight anybody,” he grins. “You’ll have to eat some Deathfall root. It will take you into the spirit realm.”

  “Is it a drug?” I sigh.

  “Yep. A very powerful one, but nonaddictive. After trying Deathfall once, you’ll never want to do it again.”

  I rub my temples, sorting out my thoughts. I’m too exhausted after hunting, facing Ace, and being near Wreck the whole time. It’s been too much strain and anxiety.

  “Is it dangerous?” I ask indifferently.

  “Could be. Deathfall makes you real sick at first, and then causes you to see and hear things.”

  “And what’s the purpose of that?”

  “Well, it’s supposed to help you learn about your destiny. You must find your spiritual guardian during your journey. He’ll tell you who you really are and what you should do with your life.”

  It all sounds somewhat tempting but I don’t believe in spirits or have any use for the spirit realm.

  “It will all just be a hallucination, right?” I ask. “It can’t be real.”

  “What’s real and what’s not?” He smirks. “If you believe in something strong enough, doesn’t it become real for you? People had been practicing this ritual for centuries before the old world was destroyed. So there must be something to it.”

  “Did you go on a spirit journey?”

  “All the rangers have.”

  “What did you see?”

  “I’m not supposed to divulge that information.” He pauses, moving in a little closer. “But there’s one thing I want you to know,” he whispers mysteriously. “I saw you, Kora.”

  “What?!”

 
“I saw that a girl with a knife would one day come into my life. That’s precisely why I spared you. I didn’t recognize you at first, but when I saw your knife, it all came back.”

  I frown, looking him over. His face is unreadable. I remember how thrilled he became when he saw my knife. Yet I also recall him trying to persuade me that he’s a werewolf. I can never tell whether he’s making things up or not.

  “Will these visions be scary?” I ask.

  “Disturbing, yes. This root conjures up all kinds of crazy stuff from your subconscious. You may even see demons. Some people lose their mind after all that.”

  “Is there any chance I might die?”

  “Only in the case of an overdose. Your mentor is supposed to give you the root and your mentor happens to be me. So it’s actually my job to calculate the right amount.”

  I stare at him, getting anxious again. “Have you done it before?”

  “I think I can handle it,” he assures.

  “Have you done it before?” I repeat.

  “No, but I’ve never mentored anybody either. I do have enough knowledge about this stuff. So just trust me.”

  I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to take a peek into my subconscious because I doubt I’d find anything good in there. I’m also nervous even thinking about allowing Wreck to drug me. But the part about finding one’s destiny lures me. So I remain quiet, full of hesitation.

  “Kora,” he says in a soft voice. “Look at me. It’s not as bad as it sounds. You won’t be alone. I’ll be supporting you during the entire ritual. I’ll be taking some of the root as well, only a smaller amount so that I’ll still be able to monitor your condition. I believe you’re strong enough to pass the initiation. But if you don’t want to do it, or if you have any doubts at all, we’ll figure out something else. I promise.”

  “What for example?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know. Something. But I’m not gonna let anybody touch you.”

  Why not? I wonder.

  “You must take the spirit journey willingly,” he adds. “Otherwise it won’t work. Deathfall does strange things to your head. You can’t resist it. You have to embrace it or risk losing your mind. It’s no joke.”

  I look away, thinking. Can this root really help me to learn my destiny? Can I find my life’s purpose during my spirit journey? I don’t know. I guess nobody knows.

  “You don’t have to decide anything right now,” Wreck says. “You still got three days to think it over.” He rises to his feet. “You hungry? I’m gonna grab us something to eat.”

  Once he’s gone, I sit motionless on the floor, gazing up at the skulls on the shelf. It appears like they’re grinning at me, so I smile back. I wish somebody would tell me what to do. I wish Amy or my mother could be here with me. But I’m completely alone and don’t know whom I can trust.

  Wreck returns several minutes later with steaks, baked potatoes and bread. We begin eating.

  “Like a little drink?” he asks, handing me a different flask.

  I smell it cautiously. There’s a sharp scent of alcohol. “What’s this?”

  “Just some stuff people make in our village,” he explains. “Tastes like crap but makes you feel good.”

  I feel uneasy. I don’t want to drink, but know how pushy Wreck can be. I envision Gabriel placing a glass of wine in front of me and forcing me to drink. The skin on my neck begins tingling, and for a moment I feel his fingers wrap around my throat.

  “You all right?” Wreck asks, noticing that something is off.

  I take a deep breath, shaking off my stupor, and say, “I have an intolerance for alcohol.”

  “Really?” He seems curious. “I’ve never heard that one before. Can you describe the symptoms?” After I tell him, he says, “Good to know. Well, I guess I’m just the opposite. I can outdrink everybody in the village.”

  He smiles, snatches the flask from my hand and takes a long pull. It doesn’t seem to have a noticeable effect on him, but I still become a little tense. He’s already aggressive enough when sober. I really don’t want to have to deal with him when he’s drunk.

  “Are you tired?” he asks after we finish our meal. “I think we’d better get some sleep before morning. It’s been a really long day.”

  He gives me a pillow and blanket. I frown, looking up at him.

  “What?” he says.

  “Do I have to sleep here?”

  “Well, you could try to sleep outside but it might rain,” he grins. “The villagers will help you find your own place after you become a ranger. But for now, I guess you’re just staying here. Why such a look? What’s wrong?”

  I feel unsafe. I spent two days in the woods alone with him, but the closed space of this shack gives me a sensation of being cornered. I don’t know how to explain all that.

  “It’s nothing,” I say.

  He turns off the lamp and the shack becomes dark. I sit unmoving in the middle of the room, holding the blanket and pillow. Wreck plops on his back along the opposite wall. I can’t stop worrying. Why does he want to keep me so close? What is he hiding behind all his friendliness? He must have some reason behind the change in his attitude. I just know it. If he only wanted to help, he’d just let Tanya and I escape. Instead, he’s doing everything he can to force me to stay in this village.

  “Is it true what Ace said?” I ask again. “That you just want to… get laid?”

  I don’t know how I managed to find enough courage to articulate all that. I suppose it’s just easier to speak when it’s dark and he can’t see my face.

  Wreck doesn’t answer. I squeeze the pillow tightly in my arms. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying the accusation? His silence is excruciating.

  “Is that really why you’re keeping me here?” I ask, my voice quivering.

  “What I want is none of your damn concern,” he answers harshly. “I’m not stupid, all right? I get that you’re not interested in me. It’s no big deal. We’re still good friends, right?”

  It’s my turn to be the quiet one.

  “Kora,” he says slowly. “Are you my friend? I don’t have to worry about you cutting my throat in my sleep, right?”

  I take a moment to think.

  “I’m your friend,” I lie, although part of me truly wishes it was true.

  “Good enough,” he replies. “Goodnight then. And if Gabriel visits you in your dreams, be sure and kill him again.”

  He rolls over onto his side, turning his back to me. I settle down along the opposite wall and close my eyes, keeping two knives under my pillow.

  ***

  A sharp pain awakens me. I sit up, whimpering and touching the scratches across my arm. They didn’t seem too deep, but the wound now hurts badly. It’s still dark outside and my head feels unclear, as if I’m sick… as if something is wrong with me. My jaw aches from grinding my teeth and my body is sore after fleeing from the chimera.

  I wrap myself in a blanket, shivering though it’s warm inside the shack. My thoughts aren’t helping. I see Amy walking along the beach, a bright smile spread across her beautiful face. I think of my mother and I living in Central Settlement in the future. A time when I’d be able to buy dresses and shoes for her. There is a place somewhere far away where they’re both happy and still alive.

  I bite down on my hand as my eyes wet with tears. It’s all I can do to keep myself from screaming. I remember the knives under my pillow so an image of slit wrists crosses my mind. I know I wouldn’t really do anything like that, but let the thought linger for a while.

  Wreck is still sleeping across the room, so I crawl toward him on hands and knees. I don’t care who he is or what he has on his mind. He’s another human being and that’s all that matters for the moment.

  “Kris,” I touch his shoulder. I don’t know why I use his real name. It just seems more personal.

  He grabs my wrist roughly, sitting up, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. And for a split second it seems like he’s abou
t to punch me.

  “Kora?” he says, a normal expression returning to his face. “What’s wrong?”

  He releases my wrist, looking me over.

  “I’m sorry to wake you,” I sob, choking. “I just… don’t feel good.”

  “I wasn’t really sleeping anyway,” he lies. “What can I do to help?”

  I don’t answer. What can anyone do after you’ve lost everything you ever had? How can you describe what it’s like to lose your mother? I don’t even know why I bothered him. I think I just needed to hear somebody’s voice to make myself come back to reality.

  “Here, drink some water.” He hands me a flask.

  I take a long gulp but it doesn’t help.

  He watches me carefully, his eyes concerned. There’s only little room between us and I can smell alcohol on his breath.

  “Kris,” I whisper, my teeth chattering. “Can you give me some of that stuff you were drinking earlier?”

  “Yeah, but… It won’t make you sick, will it?”

  “I’m already sick. I’ll just take a little sip. I really need something.”

  He brings another flask and I take a long pull, swallowing more of the stuff than I’d planned. The bitter liquid burns my throat and stomach. My muscles relax and I stop shaking. But my depressed thoughts remain, and I feel the darkness enveloping me again. I still want to scream.

  “Those leaves you were gathering in the woods,” I say. “Can they really help me sleep?” He nods and I ask, “Could you give me some?”

  “I could but don’t recommend mixing them with alcohol,” he answers. “Mixing this stuff makes it really hard to predict one’s reaction. You might totally black out for several hours and then be weak and groggy for the next day or two.” He pauses. “Are you really sure you want to try it? I mean, I’ll drug you, no problem. Although I’d prefer not to.”

  The idea of blacking out and at least temporarily forgetting about everything seems awfully tempting. But when I imagine myself unable to rise to my feet or think clearly for the next two days, the thought scares me.

  “I don’t think I really need it,” I sigh. “Thanks for the warning. Do you take these leaves yourself sometimes?”