Remains of Urth Read online

  When the whipping ends abruptly, I’m held up only by the shackles. My body is covered in lacerations, welts and bruises. I force my eyes open. I want to see what misery awaits me next. I’m positive I can’t withstand anything more. Instead of seeing more weapons or Urthmen poised to pummel us further, I see Prince Cadogan in the distance. Sitting in a chair on a platform enclosed by a balustrade on the outside of the building beneath which our cells sit, his wig is caught on a slight breeze that stirs treetops and lifts it, almost sweeping it away. A guard beside him catches it immediately, returning it to him without a smirk or smile. He stands, placing the white, fluffy mass of artificial hair back onto his smooth head, his idiotic robe billowing briefly. Every being, both human and Urthman, falls silent when he rises. “All of you understand what will happen if you disobey an Urthman.” His gaze sweeps left then right, as if he seeks to make individual eye contact with everyone present. “If any among the human population dares to even touch one of us, a species so far above you, this is only the beginning of the misery and torture we will inflict.” He pauses a moment to allow the gravity of his words to sink in. He points a thick finger at Reyna and me. “Tomorrow morning, their lives will end in the arena.” He attempts to glare at us with eyes pulled so tightly at the corners he can’t make the proper expression. “I would have ordered their deaths here and now, but decided they should be enjoyed by all.”

  Reyna will die tomorrow.

  I will die tomorrow.

  An arena filled with Urthmen will watch. But that’s not what bothers me. Neither my life nor my death are of any consequence to them. Kohl, Pike and Ara will see. I cannot fathom that. I cannot fathom them seeing worse than what they’ve witnessed today.

  I close my eyes and allow the pain to consume me. Inky darkness teases the edges of my vision, filling in immediately, cradling me. Lulling me. The world around me falls to blackness, and total silence.

  Chapter 14

  Consciousness returns on a wave of excruciating pain. It radiates from every cell in my body as I’m once again dragged down a long corridor. My mouth tastes of blood and bitterness and my head throbs. I force my eyes open, struggling against the ache and swelling, and see that my surroundings are familiar. I’ve seen this place before. I remember the sounds. The low moans and ramblings of unkempt humans echoing down the tunnel. The stench of urine mingles with mold and dampness. My battered skin prickles at all of it. We pass several people. They reach out with skeletal arms, trying to grab us. Their hair is bedraggled and their eyes are vacant. Everything about them is savage. Their appearance. Their mannerisms. And their wild cries. I instinctively recoil, but not without placing my body between them and Reyna inasmuch as the shackles will allow. The Urthmen guards keep us toward the center of the passageway. I gather it’s not for our safety but for their own. Regardless, I’m grateful to avoid the claw-like hands that extend beyond the bars. After passing several cells and inciting shrill screams and angry growls from the mangy humans within them, the Urthman ahead of me stops, opens a cell door and shoves me inside. Losing my footing easily, I immediately collapse to the ground, scraping both knees along the stone floor, and am surprised when Reyna does the same beside me. I stare at her for several seconds, blinking and undoubtedly looking like a fool, but I don’t trust my eyes. I worry for a split second that my mind is playing tricks on me. I’d have thought they’d keep us separate but am grateful for her presence. Apart from separating male and female humans for fear they’ll reproduce, the Urthmen seem determined to make us as uncomfortable and as miserable as possible. Torturing us before death and possibly to death is the trend. Putting me with Reyna is not conducive to their behavior up until now.

  “We’ll come get you when it’s your time to die,” an Urthman guard barks before he slams the cell door shut and locks it.

  My eyes dart from him then back to Reyna. Covered in blood and badly bruised, she sits up and rolls her shoulders back. She retains an air of dignity, of strength and beauty, in spite of everything that’s happened. I don’t know how she manages to do it but am in awe. I’m sure I look defeated, crumpled and broken as I sit on the floor. I wet my lips and am about to part them to speak when the cell door opens again. “Here!” the Urthman guard from before returns and grunts. “Put these on.” He throws a small pile of cloth at each of us. His tone leaves no room for argument. “Those outfits are what you’ll wear to your deaths.” I prop myself up and examine them. Holding them in front of me, there’s not much cloth. Meager at best, I fear the small swath of dark material won’t cover much of my body. Not that it matters at all. Anything is better than being nude as I am. Besides, they’re the clothes I’ll die in. Of that I’m sure. Especially after the beating I have endured.

  Sitting up and feeling as though each cell inside me protests my every movement, I scoot back and lean against the far wall. I struggle to dress myself. Everything hurts. Every muscle. My bones. Every part of me. I ache so badly my hair hurts, if that’s even possible. While I don’t believe any bones have been broken, the bruises feel as though they permeate my marrow.

  Careful to respect Reyna’s privacy, I keep my eyes facing forward, mindful only of her movements in my periphery so that I’m aware of when she’s finished dressing. Only when she’s covered do I turn toward her and allow my eyes to venture her way. “Are you okay?” I ask the dumbest possible question. Of course she isn’t okay. She was publicly beaten, whipped and humiliated, just as I was. She is not okay physically, and I’m sure she is not okay emotionally either.

  “I’m pretty far from okay,” she replies and says exactly what I imagined she’d say. She does as I did and scoots back so that she sits beside me.

  “We’re going to die tomorrow or maybe later today,” I blurt the first words that pop into my head. I regret them immediately, though they’re true.

  Turning her upper body so that she faces me, our gazes clash. She narrows her eyes at me and levels me with eyes so pale they’re nearly translucent. “No, we won’t.” One eyebrow quirks and she defies me with her expression to challenge her. “I won’t let us.” Her words are filled with iron-clad resolve. I admire it, as well as her strength and courage. But at this point, it almost borders on insanity. All the hope in the world seems futile.

  Taking a chance, I raise my arm and slip it around her shoulders. I don’t think and do not even breathe. I just do it, do what feels natural to me. When I die, whether it’s tonight or tomorrow, I don’t want to do so without knowing what it’s like to have her in my arms. I pull her into me gently, and as I do, I feel her tense ever so slightly. Crestfallen, I start to pull away. “Keep it there,” she surprises me by saying. My heart stutters for several beats and heat snaps up my neck. I oblige and remain as I am. She relaxes and falls into me, placing her head on my shoulder and a hand on my chest. Though my heart gallops at her nearness, I hold her tightly, feeling peace in spite of the complete and utter chaos all around me for the first time in what feels like forever. We stay as we are. Not a single word passes between us. The comfort and happiness I feel is absurd given that at any given moment, Urthmen guards will return and lead us to our deaths. Still, I savor it, holding tight to it as if it were my last breaths. Before long, my eyes grow heavy and exhaustion claims me. My beaten muscles submit and I doze off, sitting upright with Reyna in my arms. All sense of time escapes me. I drift in and out of sleep, jumping every time someone screams or calls out or a cell door is opened. No one comes for us. Not for a while at least. The day expires and night falls. Reyna and I remain as we are, sleeping in intermittent clips, until the sound of booted feet halting just outside our cell door causes the blood in my veins to freeze. Six Urthmen crowd the doorway. They glower at us.

  “Well, isn’t that cute? The filthy humans are bonding,” one says, mockery and acid lacing his tone.

  “It makes me sick!” another spits.

  “Move away from each other now!” a hulking Urthman moves forward and jabs a meaty finger our way. “
Separate and stand up.” Reyna and I obey his command and slowly rise. Agony snakes in every direction at the movement. But I fight it and make it to my feet. Reyna starts but falters. I catch her under her arm and lift her, helping her to stand.

  “Are you alright?” The question vaults from my throat instinctively and before I have time to stop it.

  “Silence! And do not help her.” The giant Urthman swats at Reyna and knocks her to her knees. My blood, chilled seconds earlier, blazes to a boil in a flash. I flinch, taking the smallest step toward him, and am met with a snarl. “Go ahead, human, do it. I’ll kill you here and now. For Krono. For me.”

  I debate it, debate lunging at him and breaking the hand that struck Reyna. Whether I die here or in the arena makes no difference whatsoever. At least here, my death will garner minimal satisfaction. Very little glory can be had when there isn’t an audience.

  Sensing my thoughts, Reyna whispers one word. “Don’t.” That’s it. A single word combined with ice-blue eyes that plead with me to live, even if it’s for a few moments longer, stop me in my tracks.

  “I see you chose to die in the arena. Good. It’ll be entertaining.” An acerbic laugh slips past his nearly nonexistent lips. “Now let’s go. Move!” he shouts and we’re shoved out into the tunnel once again and led to the entrance of the arena. The walls vibrate and the rise and fall of cheers roars through the ether. We’re stopped at a gate, shoved inside and ordered to grab a weapon once it is locked behind us. “Arm yourselves, filth! Not that it will matter.” He laughs again. But I ignore him. Neither I nor Reyna hesitate for a moment. I select a sword and she does the same. I stand beside her, gripping the hilt so tightly my knuckles blanch.

  The clamor of the crowd surges, growing so loud it becomes deafening. Gazing out onto the field of pale sand, my heart drills against my ribcage, threatening to break free of it. Two human bodies, small and female, are dragged away and leave a trail of bright crimson in their wake. I strain my eyes and see that neither are Ara. As sad as I feel for the unnamed females’ deaths, I’m grateful she isn’t among them. Panic diffuses through my chest in a wash of cold so icy it burns. My limbs tremble. My mouth goes dry. I try to swallow but my throat feels lined with sand. Suddenly, the gate in front of us lifts. “Move, humans!” Bows loaded with arrows are trained on our backs. I slide one foot in front of the other, stepping out into the blinding light of the arena. Reyna is a few steps behind me. I see her in my periphery. But it’s hard to concentrate. Not when the stands are packed full of Urthmen cheering and chanting for blood to be spilled.

  Among the sea of hideous faces and misshapen heads, one stands out. Prince Cadogan. Finishing up a meal of some sort, an oily smile curves the corners of his lips. After wiping his hands down his thighs, he pulls his cape over his shoulders and pets it. He rises, and when he does, the rowdy din quiets. A hush befalls the crowd. He waits until silence so complete a pin could be heard dropping settles. He clears his throat, gazing out with eyes that sit too high on his head. “The humans you see before you,” he points a thick finger at us, “had the nerve to assault an Urthman guard.” Boos and jeers erupt. Hisses accompany it and objects are hurled at us. I’m hit with an apple core and a red, squishy substance that, as soon as it collides with my body, releases a spray of seeds in every direction. Other items follow. Larger items. Harder items that include small rocks. Reyna and I cover out heads. “Enough!” Prince Cadogan bellows. The Urthmen in the stands stop immediately. He pauses and glares at everyone around him, waiting for utter silence.

  While he does, I quickly turn to Reyna and whisper, “Why did he just say we assaulted a guard?”

  “He doesn’t want them to even think it’s possible for a human to kill an Urthman,” she replies. She makes a pfft sound and looks at Prince Cadogan with disgust. “He doesn’t want them to know we’re capable of killing their kind,” she adds. I want to say more, to comment on what she’s said and ask another question, but I never get the opportunity. Prince Cadogan begins speaking again.

  “Today, we have a very special event. These savage humans are going to face off with more of their own savage kind.” An explosion of applause fills the air on a sonic boom. Wondering and fearing what’s in store for us, my eyes scan the sandy area before me, and when it does, I see feral, scraggly-looking humans, the same ones who were caged and reaching for us as we were led down the tunnel. They’re piled into one of the entry points, reaching through the bars with wild, anger-filled gazes. They snarl and growl and bare their teeth like animals. “Let the games begin!” Prince Cadogan shouts and an ear-splitting roar crashes like a mighty wave, churning and surrounding us from every direction.

  The gate keeping the feral humans at bay lifts. They pour out, emitting rage-filled, bloodcurdling cries. Their words are incoherent, but their expressions are clear. I count at least twenty. All of their faces are masks of fury. Each wields a weapon, though they hold them lazily and without skill.

  “This is bad!” I try to shout above the noise of the crowd.

  I’m shocked when Reyna’s voice reaches me in response. “We can do this!” she fires back.

  “It’s twenty to two!” My voice is hoarse as I strain to shout even louder. I look over my shoulder at her.

  Fierce determination blazes in her gaze. “Trust me,” she says then takes off full speed toward the few feral humans who are closing in on her. She swings her blade with remarkable skill and speed and opens the first one to cross her path at his gut. His entrails spill and he falls to the ground, losing his blade as he does. Without stopping, she scoops it up and drives it through the heart of the next. Before his body touches the sand, she removes her blade and drops to her knee. She launches her arm forward and drills the tip of her sword straight through the midsection of a deranged-looking woman whose club was so close when swung it grazed Reyna’s head.

  In the seconds that it takes her to drop them, I marvel at her. Her movements are lightning-fast and dexterous. She moves with deadly grace. I charge forward, watching as more advance and swinging my sword. The tip opens one from neck to navel. He howls out.

  “Stand back-to-back!” Reyna screams. “We need to protect ourselves from attacks from behind.”

  Of course her strategy is spot-on. We’re grossly outnumbered. Despite that, watching as three of their own are struck down with ease, they advance with a bit more caution. Circling us on all sides, one swings a spiked ball, tethered by a short chain to a slender length of handle, at me. I dodge it and narrowly avoid having it connect with my skull, and he lunges at me. I drop to one knee and I bring my sword up and bury the tip beneath his chin, turning it to one side, nearly decapitating him in the process. I watch as his weapon falls to the sand just before he does. Riotous shouts break out and shake the ground beneath my feet but I don’t dare glance up into the stands. I quickly pick up the handle of the fallen weapon. I spin it overhead several times then release it. It careens through the air then connects with the skull of a human with knotted brown hair that hangs past the small of his back. Hitting his temple and causing a spray of blood to dot the sand below, a stunned look washes over his anger-contorted features before he falls to the ground.

  From the corner of my eye, I see two more rush Reyna. She makes quick work of carving both open. They drop along with their weapons. I snatch the spear one was holding and she grabs the dagger the other held. I launch the spear forward, aiming it at the nearest feral creature who advances in an uncoordinated shamble, frothy drool dribbling from his lower lip. The spear slices the ether on a high-pitched whistle and sinks into his neck. His upper body rears and he’s knocked off his feet, blood spurting from the wound. Scanning the field of those who remain and approach, I see that less than a dozen remain. Up until now, they’ve attacked in pairs, no more than three at a time. However, seeing how many they’ve lost, they rethink their strategy and charge Reyna and me all at once.

  “This is it!” I call out. Reyna’s back is against mine. I can feel her heartb
eat thundering against her skin.

  “We can do this!” Her muscles tense. She grips her sword tightly, flexing in preparation.

  As they swarm us, I swing my weapon, stabbing the first two that arrive. When I turn left, however, I feel a blade drag across my right arm and another at my calf. A gush of warmth rushes from both and I tumble to the ground. My fall, as well as my blood spilling, spawns a reaction from the crowd. Thunderous applause is followed by a deafening din. Rolling immediately and narrowly missing having my skull bashed in by a club, I thrust my blade upward and into the club-wielding human’s abdomen. I roll again and pop up to my feet. Reyna has killed at least three more. Only six remain. They charge us at once. Neither of us waits to be attacked. Both of us move toward them, blocking blows and dodging swipes. Every swipe is answered with one from my hand. Each time I feel the resistance of flesh against my blade I know another has fallen. Though they move slowly and without skill, I’m still surprised by my own ability. I never thought I could move so quickly or precisely. My father’s face immediately comes to mind. He would be proud if he saw me. He’d know I was actually paying attention to his many lessons, watching and listening closely when he sparred with me.

  Thoughts of my father causes tears to sting my eyes. I try to force them to the back of my mind and focus on the surreal experience before me, but it’s a challenge. I haven’t gotten to mourn him. I suppose that won’t matter. My death is scheduled for today, at any given moment.

  Hearing Reyna grunt from exertion, I steal a fleeting glance over my shoulder and see that she’s killed the remaining humans. All of the twenty or so who stormed from the gate and rushed us are dead. Bodies litter the sand. Without thinking, I hoist my sword high in the air and pump it, releasing a guttural war cry to a crowd that, apart from faint murmurs, has fallen silent. We did it! Just as Reyna said we would. My act isn’t thought out. And in the gut-wrenching seconds before Urthmen rocket to their feet and cheer wildly, I believe I’ve worsened our predicament. If that’s even possible. I can’t be sure, even after the clapping and shouts of approval come our way. Urthmen pour from the gates. With bows pulled tight and arrows aimed at us, they shout, “Drop your weapons!” I slide a look Reyna’s way that communicates I don’t believe for a second we’ll make it off the sand alive. She wordlessly agrees. I return my attention to the guards and slowly bend to lower my weapon. Surprisingly, booing rips through the stadium. Hearing this and making several false starts to his feet, Prince Cadogan looks around, perplexed. My eyes focus on him as he is the largest and most garish among the spectators. Perplexity quickly gives way to anger as the crowd becomes increasingly belligerent, cursing at the guards and demanding that they let us live. Within seconds, the curses and belligerence become a demand. “Let them live! Let them live!” the chant breaks out, intensifying until it fills the arena. Looking around once again, Prince Cadogan raises his hands to regain control. After several long moments, everyone quiets. Prince Cadogan clears his throat.