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  While Aaron’s tone was matter-of-fact, I bristle at what he’s said. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask whether he thinks Xan wasn’t as quick to understand as he was. Or whether he was too afraid to question what I wanted to do. I don’t ask either question. I don’t press Aaron further. We’re on the same team. He didn’t choose to be born into the category of bred humans. I don’t know. Perhaps my defensiveness is born of a touch of jealousy. While Aaron was learning about a broad range of topics—all very useful—I was fighting to survive. Xan was, too. Whether it was avoiding bloodthirsty forest creatures, staving off hunger, braving the elements, avoiding Urthmen, battling in the arena or all of the above, Xan, like myself, didn’t have the luxuries Aaron and the other bred humans had. As a result, he’s a little less polished in how he presents his ideas. His thoughts are as sharp as the sword he expertly wields. “He responded just fine,” I say a bit harsher than I intended. “He doesn’t want to take unnecessary risks. But he’ll fight.”

  Aaron raises his hands to chest-height with his palms facing out. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Xan’s clever with his thoughts and his weapons. I’m glad he’s on our side.” He mumbles the last sentence with his head turned away from me. Whether or not I was intended to hear it I laugh.

  “Me, too,” I agree.

  We continue speeding, vigilant but silent, until another road just ahead bisects the one we’re on.

  “Up here, you have to turn right. That’s where I think the Urthmen have him,” Aaron says.

  “Okay.” I take a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before releasing it, then turn the steering wheel to the right. I find myself on a paved road, lined on one side with tall trees with slender white trunks. Though I don’t recall ever seeing a tree with pale bark, they are not what strikes me. In fact, they’re hardly worth glancing at when compared with what lies ahead. The color of ash and flecked with snow at their peaks, the Gray Mountains arise. Distant and majestic at first, the closer we draw, the more ominously they loom. Towering and slashing at the sky with coal-hued summits, they eclipse the sun, casting the land around them in shadows. A sooty cloud bank hovers, shrouding the apex of the tallest crest, flanked by paler veils of mist. I struggle to take my eyes off them. Struggle to catch my breath. The contrast of inviting, green grass and rolling hills to my left and trees with white bark and emerald treetops to my right set against gargantuan mountains, dark and forbidding, is stark. “Whoa,” I hear myself whisper.

  “I know. It’s pretty amazing, right?” Aaron says.

  “I’ve never seen anything like it before.” No matter how hard I try, I can’t take my eyes off the mountains. Startlingly, they rocket from the ground to the heavens, looking out of place in an otherwise unexciting landscape. I’m so consumed by the sight, I nearly miss the truck parked on the side of the road in the distance.

  “That’s gotta be them.” Aaron points to the vehicle. “Pull up behind them but stay far enough back so that they can’t see we’re inside. If they see humans…” His voice trails off as he leaves his sentence hanging. It’s one that doesn’t need to be finished. Every person aboard knows what they do to humans when they find them.

  I slow the truck to a stop, close to the Urthmen vehicle but not too close. “Are we ready?” I stand and turn toward the rear where the rest of our group is. I quickly repeat what I heard on the radio, as well as what I hope to be true. That this man has a lair and possibly some survivors living with him, too. No one tries to debate what we’re about to do. If any one of us was on the run, a vehicle filled with humans who aim to rescue us would be inconceivable. A dream come true. True, it’s a divergence from our nonexistent plan, but no one seems to care. Everyone stands and arms him or herself. Even Kai, who hobbles to retrieve his weapon then returns to the area near his seat. “Alright, let’s roll,” I say.

  Ara has her bow slung over her shoulder along with a quiver of arrows. Her face is set determinedly as she moves past me and exits the truck behind Aaron, who’s first. Reyna grips her blade in one hand and gives me a quick nod as she passes. Pike has both a bow and arrows and a blade. I’m not sure how he managed that but I don’t question it when he breezes by me. One by one, our group files out. We stop first to make sure the Urthman vehicle is empty then move forward. Aaron tells us all that we need to move quickly and as quietly as possible as he sets off towards the edge of the white-bark trees. There, shaded by the tall treetops and cloudbanks created by the mountains, the earth is soft beneath our feet. “Look.” Aaron gestures to the ground. “Footprints.” His voice is little more than a whisper. “The tracks lead that way.” He points deeper into the woods.

  Not wasting a moment, Aaron follows the marks. Within seconds of entering, we hear a shout. Too far away to determine whether it’s Urthmen or human, we follow it nevertheless. The voices grow louder and more frequent the longer we walk. And the sound of them aligns with the impressions in the dirt. We aren’t deep into the forest when I catch my first glimpse of a scuffle. Grunts and huffs are audible, as well as curses and cries of both anger and pain. We stop, concealing ourselves behind dense, low growth. I turn to Ara and Pike, who remained close by while we walked. “You two stay back and keep us covered.” I look to their bows. “If any Urthman gets close, put an arrow in him.”

  “You got it.” Pike nods.

  “Absolutely,” Ara says as slips and arrow from her quiver and loads it into her bow.

  Moving as stealthily as I can, I slink to where Xan and Micah wait.

  “Look, Lucas,” Micah clips his chin toward the fray. “There’s eight of them against one. Not a fair fight,” he says through his teeth.

  “Let’s go level the playing field. Make things fair.” Xan glares through the trees, to where eight Urthmen repeatedly kick and stomp a man who can barely cover his head with his arms. “I assume that man they’re beating is the human we’re here to save?”

  “I think it is. And we outnumber them.” I look away from the horrid scene to Lark and Aiden, who look sickened, to Xan and Micah then to the rest of the group. They slowly gather around me. “What do you say? Should we even things up and help.”

  The word “yes” is expressed in many forms and variations. Growled in most cases.

  “Let’s go,” I say just before I take off at a run, charging out of concealment.

  No longer stepping quietly, I rush toward the Urhtmen. “Step away from him!” I shout.

  Eight Urthman heads whip around, their features contorted into hideous, surprised expressions. “It’s the humans that escaped!” one calls out. His voice sounds like stones grinding.

  I take my eyes off them for a split second, allowing my gaze to fall to the man on the ground. Face down, all I see are long, sculpted ropes of hair. Matted and caked with dirt and leaves, they fall to the middle of his back.

  “Drop your weapons, humans!” the Urthman closest to us shouts.

  “Why would we do that?” Reyna asks with a mirthless laugh.

  As soon as the words leave her lips, an arrow whizzes by my ear, lodging into the tree just beside me. I turn, looking in the direction from which the arrow flew and see that an Urthman is not far from us. He hides behind a tree. Only his bow and profile are visible. About ten feet from him is another, armed, as well.

  The Urthman who demanded we drop our weapons is the one who laughs now. “Artem and Remy are good shots. Next time, his arrow will lodge in your ear.” More vile laughter spills from him. “I’m sure you don’t want that. I’ll give you a count of ten to drop them. Or die. Your choice. One—”

  He barely finishes the word “one” before an arrow whistles out from behind me followed by a second one. I follow the trajectory and watch as their archers are taken out. The one who fired at me is pierced in the throat while the other is shot in the eye. Both Urthmen drop their weapons and scream in pain. They drop to the ground and writhe in agony before stilling for good. I look back to the Urthman who began his countdown. “Now drop your weapons,�
� I order with a smile. “I’m going to count to ten.”

  The Urthman snarls at me. “Get them!” he barks at his men. At his command, they rush us. Within seconds, however, a pair of arrows scream past me. They each take out an Urthman, the two nearest us. Both are knocked backward by the impact. One has an arrow protruding from the left side his chest while the other has an arrow through his gut. I watch them stagger then fall in my periphery for a fraction of a second before I rush forward. Clashing with an Urthman immediately, I carve the air with my blade, opening his throat. Xan, Micah, Reyna and I, along with the rest of our group, clash with the five that remain. The fight is brief. Blood splatters and sprays. Shouts and cries ring out. One by one, Urthman bodies tumble to the ground. Panting from exertion, we wait, clutching our swords and looking to the surrounding woods.

  “I think we’re okay,” Aaron says. “I think this was the only group.” His eyes scan the leaf-littered dirt before us that now has blood and slain Urthmen upon it, as well.

  “For now.” I remind him and the others of the possibility of more on the way. I quickly move to the man with the long cords of hair. Kneeling beside him, I place a hand on his shoulder. “Hey. You okay?” I ask. He moans softly. I roll him over onto his back. The moment I do, my head rears and my eyes widen. Shock permeates every cell in my body.

  Staring up at me, badly beaten and with ropes of long, hair growing from his scalp, braided and severely knotted, is an Urthman.

  Chapter 4

  “It’s a filthy Urthman!” Xan shouts.

  “Kill him,” Micah urges as he lifts his sword. Muscles tense and flexing, he’s poised to cleave the Urthman’s skull in two.

  “Stop!” I grab one of Micah’s arms, preventing him from doing so. Confusion swirls about in my head, muddling my thoughts. In my brain, it registers that an Urthman, the very creature that hunts us, is on the ground not a human. Experience tells me he’d kill one of us if the situation were reversed. No thoughts. No questions.

  “What?” Micah spins to face me. Inches from me, he scowls. “You can’t be serious!”

  Xan’s head whips up and he stares at me hard. His brow is low and his eyes are narrowed. “Why? Why shouldn’t we kill him? You think he wouldn’t do the same to us if given the chance?”

  “I don’t know,” I hedge. “Why’d they want him dead? Why’d the other Urthmen want him dead? We need to know that!” The words spill from me. I wonder whether I’m making sense to anyone.

  “You dragged us all the way here to save an Urthman.” Xan stands, unflinching, over the Urthman, gripping his blade.

  I’m about to explain that I thought we were rescuing a human when the Urthman lifts up onto all fours. Welts and cuts mar his pale skin. He’s covered in dirt and blood. “My name is Garan.” He lowers his head for a moment, a pained expression carving his features before his roped locks of hair obscure them completely. “They were after me because I’m the most wanted being on the planet.” He lifts his head and looks me in the eyes, holding my gaze for a brief moment before standing slowly. A gash above his left eye has been opened. It sends a steady rivulet of blood dripping, undoubtedly blurring his vision. He raises a hand to blot it with the sleeve of his shirt.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Don’t make another move. Not one,” Xan warns. Gripping the hilt of his weapon with both hands, he raises one elbow and twists to the right as if he’s about to slice the air horizontally at any second. “Or I’ll take your head off.”

  Garan freezes mid-motion, but his eyes dart from Xan to me. The blood continues to stream from the wound to his eye to his chin. He blinks to clear it. “I’m the most wanted being on the planet because I don’t follow their laws, their rules.” He spits the words with thinly harnessed anger. “I’ve spent my life fighting against the King and his corrupt, evil regime.”

  “Regime?” Micah shakes his head. “He’s lying. Kill him already so we can get out of here.”

  “Yeah, we don’t have time to waste with this crap. Let’s kill him.” Xan’s words roll from him, shivering through his teeth with the promise of bloodshed. Of death.

  “Let’s hear him out.” Reyna appears at my side. In my periphery, I see a curtain of flaxen hair veiling her features. Armed and ready to strike, her voice is tense but authoritative. Somehow it manages to buy Garan another sentence. Neither Xan nor Micah strike.

  “I’m not your enemy,” Garan says. “Trust me.”

  “Ha! Trust you? You can’t be serious!” Grim laughter oozes from Xan like pus from a festering wound. “You must think we’re really stupid if you expect us to believe that!”

  “Yeah,” Micah chimes in. “You are our enemy. All Urthmen are our enemies.”

  “You murder women and children, our brothers, sisters and friends, storm our villages and leave no one alive except the ones you want to force to fight to the death in your arena!” Xan’s tone is low and threatening.

  “I haven’t stormed a village. I didn’t kill your people and I’ve never sat in the arena and cheered for the blood of humans,” Garan replies immediately, levelling an unwavering gaze at Xan.

  “Liar!” Xan erupts.

  “I’m not lying!” Garan matches Xan’s tone. “If you need to kill me then just kill me. But I’m not your enemy and have called many humans my friends!”

  “Humans? What humans?” Aaron asks.

  “The humans I’ve known.” Garan swipes the blood on his face with the back of his hand, chancing that the movement won’t provoke Xan or Micah to act. “I’ve had many human friends.”

  “That’s not even possible,” Aaron says. “You were friends with your slaves?”

  “Don’t you see he’s lying?” Micah lowers his blade, holding it with one hand. He throws his free hand in the air in exasperation, allowing it to land against his thigh with a thump when it falls. “This is a waste of time.” He enunciates each word angrily. “Let’s kill him and get the heck out of here!”

  “Not all humans are slaves,” Garan counters. He only looks at Aaron and doesn’t acknowledge Micah or what Micah’s said. “I’ve lived with humans I’ve thought of as brothers, who I have fought alongside of and considered my family.”

  Aaron shakes his head. “There isn’t a place on this planet where humans and Urthmen exist together as equals.”

  “You’re wrong,” Garan says evenly. “What you’ve said is completely untrue. There are many camps where I’ve lived and fought beside humans against the Urthmen.”

  “That isn’t true. It can’t be. It doesn’t make sense. I know how they feel about humans,” Aaron contends.

  “Where are these camps?” I ask. The notion of camps offers hope. But I have to admit that what Garan’s saying is hard to believe.

  “Sinsity for starters. That’s the largest one I can think of off the top of my head.” Garan shrugs and looks at us as if we should recognize the name.

  “What’s Sinsity?” I haven’t the slightest idea what he’s talking about.

  “The city across the desert.” He sounds as though he’s trying to jog a memory. “The one where humans and Urthmen live,” he continues as if his prompts will trigger a recollection and I’ll say “Oh yes! Sinsity!” and slap a hand to my forehead, admonishing myself for my forgetfulness. It doesn’t happen, of course. He leans forward slightly and says, “Seriously? You’ve never heard of Sinsity?”

  “No, I’ve never heard of it,” I answer.

  “It has one of the largest human-Urthman populations on the planet.” Garan’s eyes widen despite the swelling. “How is it possible none of you have ever heard of it?”

  “How is it possible you’re still talking?” Xan blurts out.

  “Better yet, how is it possible this idiot is still alive is?” Micah hooks a thumb toward Garan.

  “You’re obviously lying,” Aaron says calmly, ignoring Xan and Micah. “The King would never allow for such a place to exist.” He frowns. “The military would have located it, surveyed it then storme
d it. Nice try though.” Aaron huffs. “We need to get out of here. Who knows if there’s another team on the way or who else Garan here has with him.” Aaron turns to leave.

  “Say what you want, but it’s true. Sinsity is real.” Garan’s face is earnest. Both hands are out in front of him, palms facing up. “The King would storm the city if he could. From here, where he has his stronghold, he’d have to cross about a thousand miles of desert and travel through the Uganna lands. His men would never survive and they don’t have enough vehicles to bring an army large enough to fight there.”

  “There are that many humans in Sinsity?” Reyna asks.

  “Humans and Urthmen,” Garan corrects. “But yes, there are more of them then there are in all of the Urthman army.”

  Reyna slides me a glance before returning her attention to Garan. “And all of the Urthmen there fight on behalf of the humans? Against the King and his law?”

  “They don’t fight them at all. They live by their own rules.” Garan nods.

  “So you could easily take us there because you’ve been there and know the way,” she says so offhandedly I almost miss it myself. I almost miss what she’s asked. But as soon as it registers, I quickly turn toward her.

  “Lucas, you’re not actually believing this, are you?” Xan asks.

  I don’t answer.

  “C’mon. You’ve gotta admit this all sounds like a far-fetched way to save himself!” Xan says.

  “I don’t know,” I admit. Though I hesitate to say out loud that he just might be telling the truth, a part of me believes he is.

  “Let’s kill him and leave. That’s my opinion on this.” Micah raises his sword again.

  “Leave and go where?” I ask. “Where is it we’re going?”

  “Anywhere but here with him.” Micah curls his upper lip in disdain at Garan.

  “We’re not killing him,” I say with finality. “Unless he makes a move to try to kill one of us, he lives.”