The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) (24 page)

Azetan and the other marked ones
struggled to travel swiftly, given the increasingly rugged terrain. Tip led the
group due to his athletic endurance and his knack for identifying the easier
sections of the path to follow. Azetan stayed at the back of the group with
Prizene to make certain she was all right. They paused at regular intervals to
allow her to listen and every time, the Graeliths’ voices grew closer. That
meant the Graeliths were moving as well.

In this part of the forest, the
trees grew close together and little light shone through their thick branches. Their
massive roots strayed in all directions and, more than once, Azetan saw one of
the others stumble. The ground vegetation was minimal, but the rocks were many.
The marked ones followed the only available path, slowly climbing and snaking
their way deeper and deeper into the forest.

After several hours, Tip, Eros, and
Kenrya disappeared around a massive mound of rocks. Maybe they would find
something helpful on the other side. Azetan waited for Prizene, then they
rounded the rocks and found the others waiting in a large ravine. The ravine’s
shape resembled a figure eight with two elongated circles bounded by high rock
walls. At the middle of the ravine, the rock curved inward, then back out,
creating the illusion of two linked ovals. The ravine provided no cover. As the
others hesitated, the Graeliths’ voices grew loud enough for Azetan to hear
them. He looked at Prizene; she mouthed the word “closer.” The others began
glancing over their shoulders. They must hear the Graeliths now, too.

“We’ll have to make a run for it,”
Azetan declared. “There’s no other choice but to run the length of the ravine. Let’s
just take the most direct path possible, and hope we find an exit at the other
end.”

Tip led the way, sprinting
cautiously across the open space. Azetan held back to keep an eye on Prizene. Tip
reached the far side of the ravine before the others and began searching for an
exit. He rushed along the base of the high rock wall, looking up and down.

Kenrya joined him and through quick
breaths asked, “Where’s the way out?”

“There doesn’t seem to be one.” Tip
threw his arms up in frustration.

“There must be,” she replied
sharply and waved Tip out of her way. “There was no other path to take but this
one. Why would it end here?”

Eros joined them. “Look carefully
across the rock wall. There must be a way out.”

They searched frantically in
opposite directions, while Eros scanned the highest part of the rock face. Prizene
and Azetan had crossed three quarters of the ravine when Kenrya turned to speak
to them. At her wide-eyed expression, Azetan froze in his place and slowly
turned to see what dread faced them. The Graeliths had stepped out of the
forest onto the far side of the ravine.

“Eros! Tip!” Kenrya called.

Tip turned and shock crossed his
face as a massive Graelith emerged from the forest. He smiled devilishly as he
strode to the front of the pack, staring intently at the marked ones with no
effort to move hastily across the ravine. His confidence alone was unnerving.

One by one, the Graeliths, nearly
two dozen of them, exited the forest and stood at the far end of the ravine to
study their prey. They drew their swords and started chanting. Azetan swallowed
hard. The staring was bad enough, but the chanting was downright brutal to
endure. A whimper escaped Tip’s lips. Azetan maintained his composure, but felt
his mouth go dry. Indeed, Tip’s reaction was warranted.

Then Eros shouted, “There! I see
it.” The others looked to where he was pointing — an opening in the rock face
about twenty feet up. "If we loop the rope over that small rock sticking
out at an odd angle, we can climb to the opening.”

“If the Graeliths don’t catch us
first,” Kenrya replied tartly.

Only then did Eros turn to see the
Graeliths at the far end of the ravine. His eyes grew wide, but he quickly set
his jaw as he turned to Tip. “Prepare the rope!” He detached the coils from his
pack and handed them to Tip.

“I will, but can we possibly climb
it in time?” Tip raised a shaky hand and motioned toward the Graeliths.

“We have to,” Eros insisted. “See
if you can hook it to that rock up there. Azetan, you go first.”

Azetan shook his head, “No. I’ll
stay to the end to fight. You should go first.” Azetan returned his
concentration to the Graeliths, occasionally stealing glances at Eros and Tip.

Tip fastened the rope into a lasso
and tossed it toward the rock. Unfortunately, his aim was off and the rope
tumbled back down to the ground. Azetan shook his head in frustration.

The Graeliths laughed loudly as
they began their slow march across the ravine. Graeliths relished their prey’s
fear, taking sadistic pleasure in drawing out their approach. Still, why take
so much time? Perhaps they doubted the marked ones would escape.

Eros dashed to Tip’s side and
tossed the rope a second time, looping it around the rock on the first attempt.
Then he tested the rope’s strength. As he began to climb, Azetan and Kenrya
pulled their swords, while Azetan pushed Prizene toward the rope.

The Graeliths’ chants grew louder
and the stomping of their feet grew faster — yet another effective way of
scaring their prey.

Azetan tightened the grip on his
swords. If he could hold the Graeliths off, distract them somehow, perhaps
others would make it to safety. Azetan glanced back at Eros to see he was
halfway up the rock and climbing well, but Prizene still waited nearby with the
flibbit in her hands, rather than fleeing to the rope.

“Get out of here!” he commanded.

“No,” she snapped. “I can help.”

“The quasm attack left you weak. You’ll
be no use to us.”

“No, I have a plan! Besides, they
won’t kill me. Ampal told me I was wanted alive.”

He glared at her, but returned his
concentration to the Graeliths, who were closing in on the center of the
ravine. He wanted to protect her, not risk her falling to the Graeliths. “There
are worst things than death,” he said quietly, hoping that would compel her to
move. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to work.

The Graeliths had formed a long
line and marched in pairs through the ravine. They progressed slowly and
stopped time and again to chant and move about in a formation. Azetan failed to
understand their actions. Why not simply attack? The Graeliths appeared to have
certain hunting rituals, though perhaps this deliberate drawing out of the
attack was merely a way to taunt their prey allowing their satisfaction to grow
stronger.

Suddenly, one of the first
Graeliths let out a mighty roar. One by one, the others did as well. Azetan
looked to Kenrya, who moved nearer, and she gestured to the rope with her chin.
Azetan turned to see that Eros had reached the rock ledge with the opening and
Tip was working his way, more slowly, up the rope. Azetan turned back toward
the Graeliths. At least Eros and Tip would survive. In that, he could take
comfort.

He saw movement out of the corner
of his eye. Prizene stepped next to him and bent down to the ground.
What is
she doing now?
Then he saw the little, brown flibbit standing on the
ground.

“Go on,” Prizene encouraged Spike. “Go
fight the Graeliths.”

Azetan rolled his eyes. What did
she think Spike would do, run between their legs and trip them, causing them to
fall on their swords? Finally Azetan could stand the waiting no longer. He held
his swords at the ready and yelled as fiercely as he could. He began running
toward the Graeliths, who turned toward the commotion, a smirk appearing on
each face.

As Azetan ran, he sensed something
was moving beside him and whatever it was, it was growing bigger. He glanced to
the right to see the little flibbit keeping pace with him, except that it
wasn’t so little anymore. Spike had grown several feet and continued to grow
with each step, soon growing large enough to outrun Azetan. Azetan stopped and
looked back at Prizene, who stood with a look of triumph on her face.

By the time he turned back around,
Spike, standing nearly eighteen feet tall, was closing in on the Graeliths at
the center of the ravine. The long, fluffy ears, now several feet long
themselves, stood rigidly on Spike’s head. They ended in sharp points and had
sprouted foot-long spikes the full length of the ears. Spike’s front teeth were
now a foot long and razor-sharp and his girth had expanded significantly. His
feet and hands sported treacherous claws and his tail had grown into a massive
eight-foot-long club with spikes.

Spike was indeed an apt name for
the once-cuddly flibbit.

By this point, the Graeliths had
stopped chanting and they watched in stark horror as the massive flibbit
approached the midpoint of the ravine. As Spike neared, each head tilted back
and wide eyes stared up at the mighty flibbit. Spike sucked in a large quantity
of air, bent over, and belted out a tremendous roar, the force of which knocked
the first several pairs of Graeliths onto their backs. Spike stomped his right
foot and the ground shook, loosening the nearby rock.

The Graeliths started backing away
from the monstrous flibbit, until the leader growled at them. “Weaklings! Do
not allow this pathetic creature to dominate you. Attack!”

While none seemed eager to lead the
charge, the Graeliths growled to renew their courage. One of the Graeliths
threw a knife at Spike, which bounced off his now impenetrable coat. Spike
turned angry eyes to his would-be assassin. The Graelith began backing away
quickly, only to trip over another Graelith and fall. Spike sucked in lungfuls
of air and roared again into the mass of Graeliths. He stomped his feet
repeatedly, striking the rock at the midpoint of the ravine with his powerful
tail. The Graeliths scrambled to avoid being struck, as larger and larger
boulders began to fall from the rock face.

As rock fell into the ravine from
both sides, Azetan retraced his steps to join Prizene.
Great! Look at the
self-satisfied smirk on her face. She’s not going to let this go!
She
beamed at him and politely suggested he might want to take his turn on the
rope. He stowed his swords once he saw that Kenrya had indeed reached the rock
ledge. As he jogged over to the rope, he was pleased to see the shocked looks
on each face of his companions. Spike had surprised them all — all, that is,
except Prizene. Azetan quickly climbed the rope. By the time he arrived at the
ledge, Spike had knocked enough rock into the ravine to completely block the
Graeliths’ path.

Spike stomped his feet a few more
times for good measure, then turned back toward Prizene. With each step, the
ground shook violently. The marked ones on the rock ledge dropped to their
knees to brace themselves from falling. In one deft movement, Spike scooped up
Prizene in his claws and placed her gently atop the rock ledge.

Prizene frantically looked to the
others. “Now how do we lift Spike onto the ledge?”

Azetan scoffed, “You must be
joking. We could never lift him.”

Prizene looked exasperated with her
hands on her hips. “He’ll shrink again very soon. We can’t leave him in the
ravine. The Graeliths will break through eventually.”

Tip untied the rope from the rock
and pulled the full length of the rope to the rock ledge. He tossed the end
over Spike’s left shoulder and down his back. “Hand me the rope, Spike,” Tip
ordered politely.

Spike cocked his head sideways,
then ran his claw around his back and lifted the end of the rope to Tip. Tip
grabbed the end just moments before Spike shrank too much to reach the ledge. He
fastened the rope in a slip knot and tightened it gently around Spike’s torso. Once
Spike shrunk to a height of only a few feet, they pulled him easily onto the
rock ledge.

Prizene removed the rope and after
Spike had shrunk sufficiently, she placed the tiny flibbit back into her pocket
along with several pieces of linoya root. As Tip gathered up the rope, Azetan
cheered, “All right, Spike!”

Prizene flashed a brilliant smile
and they hurried through the opening in the rock.

Arith wiped his brow. The sun shone
brightly overhead, beating relentlessly on the small group, as they made their
way to Banston. They had departed Caldot two days ago and expected to arrive
tomorrow. The relatively flat land eased the journey; even the rolling hills
nearer to Banston would be easy to traverse.

The Raptan craftsman kept working
throughout each day and the casket now sported carvings over most of its
exterior. Each evening Ampal told the tales reflected in the carvings,
expressing his pride in his little sister. Arith appreciated the healing power
of the Plinte customs. While Ampal still mourned, he remembered much about his
sister through the process. Arith watched him closely, encouraged that his
devastation lessened, yet still concerned over the depth of his grief.

When the opportunity presented
itself, Arith spoke with the warriors Lady Anyamae had dispatched to travel
with them. He had felt a change in the city just before their departure and
hoped the warriors would have some information to share. They lacked specific
knowledge of any new plots or treachery the Tyrnotts may have devised, though
they agreed with Arith’s assessment of the city’s changed atmosphere. Fear
rippled through the citizenry. Graeliths had started tightening their control,
presumably on Nord’s orders, yet no one knew of Nord’s plans. He seemed to be
reacting more strongly to this latest group of marked ones, and Arith wondered
again why this particular group concerned the Tyrnott leader more than any of
the others. Regardless, if Nord felt especially threatened, the retaliation was
likely to be fierce.

As the journey continued, Arith and
the warriors agreed that more regular communication needed to be established
between the warriors and undergrounders. The undergrounders would enlist
support among the citizens, and the warriors would keep them abreast of any
important developments. Together, they would try to protect the city.