The refugees slid off the Great Beasts and walked off toward the crowded camp on the horizon, where voices filled the air despite the distance. Lilau sweated more at the thought of being so close to so many. The two Great Cats growled and walked away into the desert, seemingly feeling the same.
They do, Makotae assured her.
Lilau took some comfort in that. Even the Silent Hunter camp, down to less than a dozen after the City’s raids, had swollen to over sixty at last count, half a moon ago. Yet another reason she had volunteered to collect the lost Spirit Tribe, although it meant not seeing Radai or Macien.
A heaviness settled over her thoughts as Makotae trotted away from the crowded camp. The weight made her eyes sting.
Makotae found a flat piece of desert, far enough away to block most of the sounds from the bloated camp, and lay down. Lilau pulled the last full waterskin from his saddle and slid off, helping him drink as they waited.
Soon enough, a Great Cat came from the direction of the camp, a dot getting larger until Lilau could make out the sled strapped to it.
Wood supports, rugs, more food and water. All she and Makotae needed to rest and resupply before collecting more refugees. Keefin had already spotted a lone wanderer to the north. Lilau collected the supplies, deftly burying the supports and fastening the rugs into a small tent. She’d done it so much lately, it came near second nature.
When it came time to sleep, the weight remained. Each refugee made it harder to sleep. She couldn’t deny her connection to the Spirit Tribe. Although she’d seen none as pale as her, she’d seen them in a spectrum of skin tones, from as dark as the darkest Horse Tribe to the lightest of the Cat Tribe. Besides that, she couldn’t deny the draw of their rainbow-shaded essence, or their draw to her. It all felt too familiar.
So the question remained—were the ones who abandoned her among the refugees? Had they somehow survived all the years, all the suffering? She’d seen few older Spirit Tribe, so the odds seemed low, but what of blood relatives, and did it matter? She was an outcast, after all.
We both know family lies beyond blood. Makotae huffed from the other side of the tent.
Of course I know. Yet it still digs at me. Why?
A wolf desires a pack, I suppose. Just don’t forget the two who still expect you back. Or me.
Lilau sighed. She scooted over to Makotae’s side and lay against his soft black fur. The extra heat prickled her skin, but she didn’t care. I’d never forget you, my heart. I just wish these thoughts would leave me be. When did things become so complicated?
Makotae snorted. A long time ago. We’re simply running out of places to hide.
*****
A prick. Almost rousing from sleep, only to plunge back into oblivion. The next time awareness came, it trickled in with agonizing slowness. Heaviness on her limbs, a pounding in her head, a cold lump in her core to match the hole in her heart.
Lilau groaned and forced her reluctant eyelids to open. Stone and iron surrounded her, the air thick with the tang of old metal, sweat and blood. She shot up, cried out as the motion reverberated down her head and rattled across her wrists and ankles. Thick shackles covered them, small moonstones embedded in each one. Heavy chains ran from the shackles, binding her to iron plates fixed to the stone floor.
The stone floor stretched in all directions. At her back stood a metallic wall. To her left and right, as well as across a small corridor, iron bars divided the stone floor into small, rectangular spaces. Cages.
Her mind skittered. What had happened? She remembered only darkness. Makotae!
Silence. The space he occupied in her mind sat empty. Her heart hammered, quickening further as footsteps echoed down the corridor. Lilau shrank back.
Two blue-robed men opened the door to her cage. One seized the chains hanging around her wrists, while the other used a thick metal tool to free the chains from the floor.
Lilau pulled back, tried to yell, but her body responded strangely. Sluggish. Drugged. The blank spot in her memory suddenly made more sense.
The man holding her chains yanked. Lilau gasped, falling to her knees as her feet failed to respond quickly enough. The second man slipped behind her. He grabbed the back of her robe, pulled her to her feet, and shoved her forward.
Lilau shuffled one foot in front of the other as she fought her rising panic. The hole where Makotae should have been burned bright in her mind, contrasting with the ice cold lump where the embers of her power should have sat. An attempt at stoking the embers, drawing up a bit of essence to activate her Spirit Sight, brought nothing. The corridor, lined with its metal cages, stayed dull, and the guards in front of her stayed quiet and dark in their blue robes.
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City blue robes.
Lilau stopped as realization sank in. The man behind her shoved, knocking her to her knees. The City had her. How, she didn’t know, yet it hardly mattered. The hole in her heart grew sharp. If Makotae was gone, none of it mattered anymore.
Her eyes misted over. The men broke their silence, yelling threats that proved empty. One growled and grabbed her around the waist, letting her chains hang as he dragged her to their destination.
The corridor led to stairs, spiraling up and past stone archways until they stepped out onto shining marble floors. The man dragged her past walls covered in colorful rugs, the scent of water, food, and flowers almost strong enough to cover up the bitterness of sweat and blood that still clung to Lilau.
She watched it all with glazed eyes. With Makotae gone, nothing remained for her in this world. Perhaps it had been the Fokla’s will all along. To bring her home after she’d fulfilled their expectations. If so, she wouldn’t fight it. Not anymore.
Through more archways, into another corridor. The wall grew more colorful, the smells stranger. Armor, weapons, and carvings lined the newest corridor, placed high on stone pedestals.
The man dragging Lilau came to a stop. In front of them, large double doors painted in deep blue and silver stretched from floor to ceiling. Two more blue robed men stood at either side, spears in hand and curved swords on their hips. Silver filigree flowed down their left shoulder.
No one spoke. The door guards moved without command. The double doors opened, grinding across the floor with enough force to set Lilau’s teeth on edge.
The man holding her tightened his grip and dragged her into the next room. A long rug, depicting a continuous desert procession of animals and blue-robed people, ran from the doorway to the end of the large, square room.
Lilau kept her eyes on the floor as numbness settled in thick.
The man stopped and dropped her to the floor. “Look up, slave!”
Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled. Steps lay in front of her, leading up to a high-backed seat made of stone and covered in thick rugs.
The man seated in the chair was no less covered. Blue and silver robes flowed down his body, intricate designs embossed into the entire length of fabric. A large gold medallion hung around his neck, accenting the gold, jewel-encrusted band which held his hood in place.
The crowned man scowled. A normal expression Lilau was familiar with, yet combined with the man’s round face and large, dark eyes, it reminded Lilau of a petulant child. He stood, and the illusion shattered. He towered over Lilau, easily six hands taller than her short stature and over twice as wide.
His robes billowed as he stomped down the stairs, grabbed her under the chin, and pulled up.
Hot breath blew against Lilau’s face. It smelled faintly of spices, a pleasant smell at odds with the hatred on the crowned man’s face.
“Pale little slave. Welcome home.” He tossed her to the floor, where a guard hoisted her back up to stare at the bejeweled man.
He laughed. A high-pitched sound laced with madness. Lilau shivered.
“That’s right,” he said. “You must keep your eyes on me. I am Ka-al, ruler of this land. Besides, I want to see those pretty eyes when the light leaves them.”
Too late. Lilau grimaced at him, but stayed silent. Such people got their power from the cries of their victims. She wasn’t about to oblige whether she was ready to die or not.
“I would strike most down if they gazed on me so boldly.” Ka-al’s lips pulled back, baring his teeth. “Consider it your final reward for the attack you led on the City. You traitors weakening the shield, bombing the towers, summoning the spirits.” He chuckled. “Amazing. I’d only ever heard such things from bedside stories.”
His face contorted as he lashed out and grabbed Lilau by the throat. “Your light show destroyed half of my City, stole two-thirds of my slaves, and killed my father.”
His hand fell away, and Lilau gulped in a mouthful of air.
He grinned. “I should thank you for that last bit, though. If he hadn’t died, I’d not be on the throne. Still, I feel his death requires a little bit of recompense, even if his poor handling of slaves led to your escape in the first place.”
Lilau’s eyes widened before she could control her reaction.
“That’s right. You were born here, same as all your kind. Born more worthless than all the rest, you were to be killed, yet when the guards came to collect you, you’d vanished. Poof.” He threw his hands out. “A cloud-white newborn barely capable of moving—gone. My father was furious, the old idiot. Like it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t all bad, though. That was the first time I got to see a public execution.”
Ka-al locked eyes with Lilau. She tensed. He was playing with her and enjoying it.
“I sat on my father’s lap, watching all the slaves paraded out to Death’s Square. Watched the horror rise in their dull eyes as your parents died. It took nearly an hour. Flaying is such slow, delicate work.”
A small sound escaped Lilau as the air left her chest. She fought against the rising sadness. She’d never known her parents. So why did her heart hurt to know of their deaths? She reached for Makotae, but only emptiness answered. Her legs buckled at the denial. This time, no arms pulled her up.
Ka-al laughed. “Take her to the Square. It’s time she met her parents.”
The cool, sweet air of the throne room fell away, replaced by the more familiar smell of dirt, heat, and sweat as the guards, now one on each arm, half-carried her down more stairs and out of the building.
A square shaped clearing sat bare. Multi-colored stones the size of Lilau’s fist were embedded in the ground, lined up in a symmetrical pattern. At the center, a wooden platform stood twice as tall as she was. A set of stairs led up one side, where six thick poles jutted toward the sky. Red, brown, and black painted each pole. The stench of decay told Lilau it wasn’t dye.
She needed to fight, to break free and save herself. But she didn’t care. She knew she should, but the drugged heaviness combined with the loss of Makotae made it impossible.
Trumpeting came from the top of the building they’d just left.
The guards carried her up the steps; her hobbled feet scraping against the wood as people filed into the square. Some wore blue robes. Many wore next to nothing, their myriad of skin colors standing out among the Cat Tribe. Slaves.
A small, almost foreign thrill passed through Lilau. The almighty alpha of the City felt threatened by her. Threatened enough to make an example of her to the remaining Spirit Tribe shackled by him. She searched the faces in the crowd as the guards led her to a pole and stretched her arms above her head.