Rise of the Red Harbinger (27 page)

Marshall rolled his eyes. “My word is my bond. Look, although I do not agree with your magic, I would like for the girl to join us. Adria.”

“And why is that?”

“If she was able to find me, then perhaps she can find others. It is worth the chance.”

Marlowe nodded. “I will ask the Mavens if she is available. There are always missions and errands going on.”

“Mavens. What are these Mavens?”

“Maven is a title one earns here after achieving a certain excellence in the control of their manifestation, along with a rigorous regiment of study and training. Think of the Mavens as your superiors, your guides, your teachers. They will also report to me about your behavior and progression.”

“As long as your people do not give me trouble, my behavior shall be of no issue. Do I have your permission to leave, Master Marlowe?”

Marlowe walked around the desk and waved for Marshall to walk with him to the door. Before opening it, Marlowe turned to face him. “Of course your behavior will be of no issue.” Marlowe squeezed Marshall’s tender shoulder then punched him in the stomach. Marshall doubled over and grimaced. He refused to give Marlowe the satisfaction of making a sound. If his stomach and shoulder hadn’t been injured, Marlowe’s strike wouldn’t have hurt him. He took a few deep breaths then stood erect once more. Marshall said no words, only smiled and then left the room.

***

“We shall leave as soon as all the rest are prepared.” Maven Savaiyon towered over Marshall and Gunnar to the point that Marshall felt awkward sitting down.

“And when will that be?” Ever since his meeting with Marlowe on the previous day, Marshall had been anxious to be outside the walls of the House of Darian.

“Have patience. They should be ready soon. All were awoken at sunrise, just as you were. They shall be here shortly.”

“Who exactly are we waiting for?” Marshall refrained from asking about Adria directly. Just then, the door opened and two boys walked in, of an age with Marshall. The first bore a yellowish complexion with black choppy hair and almond shaped eyes. The second was a few inches taller and olive-skinned, similar to Adria’s, and light brown hair tied back into three rods that protruded from the back of his head. Marshall stifled a chuckle. “Ah, I suppose we were waiting for your hair to be ready?” The boy scowled instantly at Marshall.

Gunnar, standing next to Savaiyon, spoke up. “Marshall, zis is Desmond and Badalao. Near inseparable, zey are.”

Marshall made no attempt to rise. “Inseparable? Ohhh, I see.” Marshall smiled. If he would be forced to stay at the House of Darian, he would make the most of it and push as many boundaries as possible. “Yes, we had our own ‘Desmond and Badalao’ back in my village. Fabian and Alden. They were more discreet about it than you two, however. Of course, the only reason I even knew they had a romance was because Alden was my cousin.”

Desmond and Badalao looked at one another quizzically, and then fired glares at Marshall. Desmond stepped forward and dug a finger into Marshall’s chest. “What did ya just say? Just cuz yer a Taurani an’ Marlowe is givin ya special treatment, don’t think fer a second I won’t lay another beatin’ on ya. Worse than the one ya came here with. Lincan told me ya cheated death when they found ya. I’d really like ta see if ya can cheat it again.”

Marshall didn’t bother with a clever retort. He grabbed Desmond’s wrist and used the momentum to slam him face-first into the floor. As soon as he’d stood up again, Badalao wrapped an arm around Marshall’s neck, choking him. Marshall ran backward into the wall as Savaiyon and Gunnar bolted out of the way. Badalao’s grip loosened just slightly and Marshall forced his head from the clutch then folded Badalao’s arm behind his back in one swift movement. Marshall tugged Badalao’s arm higher, then whipped Badalao around and slammed his face against the wall. Marshall let go and Badalao fell to his knees. “There. Now when you two kiss each other, you can taste each other’s blood.” As the words left his mouth, something snatched Marshall and held him in the air. He struggled to break free and then looked around him. No one in the room was even close enough to touch him.

Desmond, the yellow-skinned boy, stared at him and finally spoke. “Ya forgot where ya were, didn’t ya? Sure, yer a good fighter. With yer hands. Bet ya don’t even know how ta use yer manifestation, do ya.”

Marshall continued to struggle as he hovered a few feet above the floor. “Put me down and fight me fairly, coward.”

“What’s unfair? I’ve got a mark an’ I see one on yer face, too. Looks perfectly fair ta me. I could kill ya right now without even liftin’ a finger.”

Savaiyon cut in, “Put him down, Desmond. Marlowe would not condone this and neither do I. Marshall is one of us now.” He looked up at Marshall, “Even if he does not believe it yet.”

The door opened once more and Adria walked in. Marshall’s cheeks warmed as she looked up at him. “What are you fools doing? I could hear you all from down the hall. I thought you were destroying the room! Put him down! Zin Marlowe was not far behind me! No doubt he is coming to see for himself.”

Savaiyon echoed her order. “Release him, Desmond. If Marlowe is coming, we should depart now.”

Desmond wiped blood from his face, “Fine.” As he wiped his hand on his pants, Desmond looked Marshall in the eye. Marshall floated horizontally now, facing the floor. He slowly descended until he hovered nearly three feet above it, and fell suddenly with a thud. Desmond continued, “Doesn’ feel so good, does it.”

Marshall stood and straightened out his clothes. He turned to Adria and smiled. “Hi.”

“Save it. Why did you even request that I come with you? I saved you the first time. If there were other survivors, I would have known.”

Before Marshall could respond, Desmond chimed in with a chuckle, “He asked fer ya to come?” Marshall reddened as Desmond continued, “Look at him, Mouse. He’s blushin’! He doesn’ need yer help! He fancies ya.” Desmond’s chest convulsed as he laughed heartily and wiped his nose with his sleeve.

Badalao cut in, also wiping his nose clean, “Maven Savaiyon, before you make that gateway…should we not arm ourselves before we go? It is one thing to assume there are no survivors, but it would be foolish to assume the attackers are gone.”

Savaiyon responded, “You’re correct. We’ll go to the armory first.” Savaiyon turned again. A tiny speck of light appeared in the air a few feet in front of Savaiyon. In seconds, the speck expanded into a bright yellow square wide enough for three people to walk through side-by-side and high enough for Savaiyon, who was easily a foot taller than Marshall, to walk through without ducking. Marshall stared for a moment and realized his mouth was hanging open.

Savaiyon, Adria, and Badalao walked through instantly. Gunnar and Desmond looked at him and laughed. Desmond then patted him on the shoulder, which was still sore, and said, “Yer mouth is about as big as that gateway now. If a gateway surprises ya that much, then yer jaw’ll be hurtin’ by the end o’ today.” Gunnar walked into the bright yellow light and Desmond and Marshall followed.

They appeared in a large stone room that smelled of oil and mustiness. Weapons of all sorts lined the racks on the walls, including swords, axes, maces, and spears. Marshall nudged Gunnar, “I thought you said that Marlowe doesn’t approve of violence and fighting.”

“He doesn’t know about zis room.”

Marshall chuckled at the response as he armed himself with a sword and two daggers. One of his personal rules was to aways have a knife. Taking too many big weapons would only burden him and slow him down.

***

Marshall stepped out of another gateway onto familiar ground. Savaiyon had brought them just outside of Marshall’s village. The sight did little to comfort his already queasy stomach. He couldn’t fathom how Savaiyon would travel this way regularly. Perhaps the effects diminished after getting used to the gateways. The yellow gateway shrunk after they’d all stepped through.

The stink of char and burnt flesh struck his nose, bringing back the memory of all the burning houses the day his village was attacked. Marshall covered his nose and mouth and advanced toward the village. Adria walked with him as the others followed. “Do you even have a plan, or are you just going to lead us into this burnt down graveyard without telling us anything?”

“Why do you have so much anger and aggression toward me?”

Adria rolled her eyes, “For one, I think you are very arrogant and too stubborn for your own good. You think you are better than us, despite knowing nothing about us. Along with that, you and your people deny your similarities to us despite the proof being on your face. Such foolishness resulted in all this,” she waved her hand at the village. “And lastly, you demanded to come back here after being told more than once that there is nothing remaining here but death. I saved your life once, and even if you were grateful for that, I would still find it pointless to put six of our lives in danger.” Her tone held less anger than Marshall had expected. If anything, it was more logical.

Marshall stopped and turned to the whole company, “Look, there are three things I want to accomplish here, and then we can leave. I would first like to be sure of whether there are any survivors. Once that has been determined, I would like to give my family members their proper funeral and I will need your help with that. And somehow we need to find my shadow, if that can even be done. As soon as that is finished, we can leave.” He didn’t wait for a response as he turned and continued walking. Since being attacked, Marshall had yet to face the fate of his family. He was not wholeheartedly convinced of their deaths despite what he’d told Aric. It was the obvious assumption to make, but Marshall needed to see for himself.

When Adria spoke again, annoyance clearly filled her tone, “So it is that easy to you? We will simply determine if there are survivors, tend to your family, and then leave?”

“What is your problem?”

“My problem? My problem is that a day ago, you denounced the House of Darian’s way of thinking. The belief system of everyone with whom you now travel. And now you have the nerve to ask us for help? Tell me, rockhead, how do you plan to find out if there are survivors? Will you stop at every single body and examine it for signs of life? Because without our manifestations, which you do not accept, that is exactly what you will be doing.”

Marshall reddened and stopped just before the edge of the village. She was right. It had eluded him that he was essentially using them to carry out his wishes. A tinge of guilt hung in the back of his mind. Marshall’s anger at Marlowe had clouded his judgment toward the others. “Fine. You are right and I apologize for using you like this. But if you people were not forcing me to be your prisoner, then perhaps I would not have to resort to this. So do not put the blame solely on me.”

Desmond spoke up, “None o’ us are forcin’ ya ta stay. Truth is, yer forcin’ us ta follow yer wishes.” Badalao and Gunnar nodded in agreement. Savaiyon merely stared at Marshall, as if studying him.

That makes no sense.
“Of course I am forcing this upon you, but that was my agreement with Marlowe. If he and you are going to force me to stay with you and be open-minded to your way of life, then I would be allowed to come back here.”

Desmond and Badalao both chuckled, confusing Marshall even more. Badalao then responded, “Marlowe is a fool. Why do you think we spar in secret? Marlowe refuses to believe Jahmash will return in this lifetime, or any lifetime in the near future, so he has barred us from developing any fighting and combat skills. Marlowe believes we should spend our days solely in study and that we should know as little of violence as possible. He tells us that because the King and much of the world hate us so, we should be meek. Tell me, Marshall, did you respect every Taurani and believe that each and every one was a good person?”

Marshall could see Badalao’s point. He responded begrudgingly, “No.”

Badalao continued, as if already knowing the response before it left Marshall’s lips. “Then why do you assume that all Descendants are bad people? The five of us who accompany you now, we are nothing like Marlowe. If you stay with us, you will quickly see that the House is divided. Broken. But even those who side with Marlowe are becoming the minority. I have been there half a year and that was obvious very early. People barely see Marlowe anymore. He hides in his office or his quarters all day and makes others do everything for him. You ask me, he could rot in Opprobrium…”

Savaiyon cut in before Badalao could continue. “That is enough. It is one thing to dislike the man. But do not get carried away, Lao. Like it or not, Marlowe is still our headmaster. Focus. You have the facts from Marshall. He is obviously unable to gauge the situation correctly, given his lack of experience with manifestations. What is the plan, Lao?”

Marshall assumed Savaiyon’s comments regarding him were merely logic and not meant as a jab, so he took no offense. Savaiyon was right, anyway. They understood their manifestations better than Marshall, so it would be foolish for him to lead.

Badalao thought for a moment and then spoke. “You will be our scout, Maven Savaiyon. You can go ahead and then keep us updated on whether there is any danger. Maven Gunnar and Mouse, you two will work together to search for survivors, given that you are our eyes and ears. Literally. Desmond, Marshall and I will break off and go to Marshall’s family. I will bond Marshall to make the process work better.”

Marshall perked up. “You will what?”