Tentyrian Legacy (30 page)

His hands reach for me. I’ve backed myself
into the ottoman at the foot of the bed. There is only one thing I
can think to do . . . run.

2010 AD, July

Ambrosine Island, Ionian Sea

Why didn’t he stop me? I think as my feet
pound against the closely cut grass. There is a dim pain in my left
foot I’m determined to ignore. Is he giving up? Jumping off the

cliff isn’t an option, so instead I run as
fast as I can around the perimeter of the building, what appears to
be a massive white stucco home. Bougainvillea has threaded its way
into the plaster; their red blooms offer an air of lazy romance to
the Spanish villa. I can hear the trickling of a fountain flowing
in relaxed contradiction to my panic and hurried pulse.

If circumstances were different, I’d stop to
admire the Moorish architecture of the curved window arches and
terracotta roof. However, I don’t have time and most importantly, I
don’t know where the hell I am. I don’t see any other buildings or
even roads. The house that looks like a postcard from Seville is
literally perched on a cliff edged by brushwood and palm trees. The
front of the home doesn’t even have a driveway; instead, it butts
up against what looks like miles of unending orchard.

How was this place even built? I search for a
path that leads away but can’t find one. There is no choice. I make
a beeline for the orchards. My dress is bunched tightly in my hand
to avoid tripping as I run. I need to get to the cover of trees as
fast as I can before they catch up. Are they watching me now? When
I ran from Maximos, he didn’t follow, but I can only assume he’ll
send his men after me. I’m too scared to look back as my legs pump
hard, and the rocky soil cuts into my feet, exacerbating the burn I
already feel in my foot. The scent of olive trees fills my
nose.

The unrelenting heat of the sun bogs me down.
But I don’t stop. After what feels like an eternity, I worry I’ve
gone too far. I may not be able to find a path leading out, and all
the rows of trees look exactly the same. I see a tree with thick
roots that have risen out of the ground to form small nooks around
its base. Perfect for a resting place. I limp over to one and lean
into the natural crevice. I roll onto my back to feel little
patches of light warm my already hot face. I just need to catch my
breath.

I open my eyes to the beauty and sheer size
of the trees all around me. But instead of feeling enthralled, I
feel small and helpless. Which is what I am. Don’t cry. My heart is
still pounding, and I begin to shake. I lift my leg and pull my
foot toward me to survey the damage: blood is oozing and dirt is
caked into a three-inch gash. It will need stitches. I must have
cut it on a stray china shard when I ran. So stupid, Ari. I realize
I’m going into shock, and I need to stop it before it’s too
late.

My dress is now soaked through, and I’m
dripping with sweat. I may as well be in a sauna. I pull myself
into a sitting position and focus all my energy on meditating. My
first task is to lower my heartbeat, which is out of control. If I
don’t slow it, my shock could easily spiral out and I’ll lose my
mental block. That means the chaos of the world will come crashing
down. Any minute.

I rub my twitching palms on my thighs, back
and forth. The friction of the cotton and the steady motion is
soothing. Back and forth. The air passing between my lips
transforms into a low hum. I focus on the vibration and the feel of
the fabric. Back and forth. But just as I’m making progress, I hear
the crunch of rock. My eyes open immediately, and I see them.

It’s Philip and Hale along with another man,
approaching. Dressed in black cargo pants, lace-up boots, and black
tees, the muscular men are an intimidating force. Their grim
expressions certainly aren’t reassuring. I notice they don’t carry
weapons, which is a good sign. They must not intend to kill, only
capture me.

“I can smell her, this way,” says the one I
don’t recognize. He also has a buzzed haircut and looks like a GI
Joe on steroids, just like Philip and Hale. How can he smell me?
It’s only a matter of seconds before they find me. I’m afraid and
panicked, but I’m also angry. Angry that I’m cowering. Angry for
what has been done to Raad.

Time and time again my freewill has been
taken from me, and it’s all because of Maximos. Enough. My once
calming heartbeat is beating rapid fire again; so much for stopping
the shock. I stand up, leaning my weight on my good foot, and yell,
“If you want me so badly, come and get me. But I will fight
you!”

Their attention snaps in my direction, where
I stand less than ten yards away.

“Target found,” says the one I haven’t seen
before, his voice cold and devoid of all emotion.

“Screw you!” I yell at him.

“Ms. Parker, we don’t want a fight,”
proclaims Philip cordially as ever, as if he’s discussing the
weather.

“Your actions speak otherwise.” I position
myself into a fighting stance.

When Raad learned I was good at fencing, he
thought it would be an excellent opportunity to build on my skill
set. Especially after he learned the truth about Howard. Raad
taught me techniques that combine karate, jujitsu, and some good
old-fashioned street moves he learned as a kid. Now was as good a
time as ever to put them into action.

“You’ve cut yourself, ma’am. Why don’t you
just come back to the villa and Shashandra can bandage that up for
you?” Hale says calmly, with a faint southern twang I didn’t notice
before. “Otherwise it’s going to get infected. And there is no one
around here for miles . . .”

“No, I’m not going anywhere with you psychos!
I’m not joining your messed-up cult!” I scream hysterically. The
men look at each other quizzically.

“For God’s sake, we have better things to do
then chase this one,” murmurs the unnamed GI Joe.

“You heard what Max said, Ryan. We are to
retrieve her and quickly,” says Philip, looking at his watch.

“Fine, let’s get it over with,” answers the
guy who I guess is Ryan. He starts toward me. I’m ready.

I brush the strands of hair that have come
loose from my braids off my sweaty forehead and prepare to engage.
That’s when Ryan laughs. “Come on, little one, let’s not fight,” he
says between chuckles. He isn’t menacing, just mocking. It only
makes me madder.

“Go ahead and laugh. You won’t be when I put
you on your ass,” I say between clenched teeth.

“You have a sassy mouth,” he says as he
lunges for me. I duck quickly and deliver a sidekick to his shin
that causes him to stumble and catch himself on his hands. His
buddies are the ones laughing now. “Looks like she almost got you
on your ass after all,” says Hale enthusiastically.

Ryan stands up with determination and comes
for me again. Philip and Hale watch in amusement. I bend my right
hand at the knuckles, forming a flat edge, and jab at his throat. I
make contact, but it doesn’t hinder him. Instead, he grabs my wrist
so fast I barely even register any movement. In a blur, my arm is
now pinned behind my back. Damn.

“You had a lucky hit, but now the game is
over. Let’s go, little one,” says Ryan as he throws me over his
shoulder, knocking the breath out of me as his muscular shoulder
digs into my diaphragm. I instantly make my body go limp. Let him
think I’ve given up.

“Let’s go, boys, the show is over,” he says,
and the group starts to make its way silently and quickly back to
the house, like an army task force on a stealth operation.

My arms are dangling like a rag doll, and my
breathing is labored. Red spots start to fill my vision; it’s time
to act. I dig my fingernails into his back with all my
strength.

“Ahhhh! Jesus Christ!” Ryan exclaims, and his
grip on me loosens. I manage to flip myself over and land on my
feet, crouched like a crazed cat but without the grace. It feels
like a knife has been shoved into my foot. I cry out but manage to
stagger into a standing position and hobble away feebly. My vision
isn’t very clear, probably from all the blood that’s rushed to my
head. The red spots start to dissipate, and over my shoulder I can
see the men standing and talking amongst themselves. What are they
waiting for?

“Damn it, get the gun from your boot,” I hear
one of them say. Tears flood my clouded sight. But I don’t have any
more energy in me to do more than continue with my pathetic hobble.
If those cowards are going to shoot me, then so be it. I hear a
click, but it’s surely not loud enough to be a gun. A sharp prick
in my back gets my attention, and warmth begins to spread like a
bad rash. It feels hot and itchy. I reach behind me to touch what
it is. I stumble. With a pain that is almost nothing compared to
what I feel in my foot, I rip it from my back and stare at its
feathered tail. What the hell? It’s a dart.

But now, I notice that my foot doesn’t hurt
as much anymore. Actually, nothing hurts. The dart slips from my
fingers. And I can feel myself slipping away from reality. My
muscles are soft and pliant, like Irena’s kneaded dough for her
black bread. My legs collapse, with only the dirt to cushion my
fall. It feels like I’m moving in slow motion as I roll over and
gaze up at the orchard trees above. So beautiful and peaceful.

I can’t lift my arms or move my neck, but I’m
vaguely aware of arms lifting me. It’s Ryan. I struggle to lift my
heavy eyelids.

“Quiet, little one,” he orders.

His chin is above, as are shafts of light
filtering through the leaves. Like the air particles dancing in the
sun, I’m floating along with them. If this is what dying feels
like, it isn’t that bad. Then all I see is darkness. Again.

“How much ketamine did you give her,
Ryan?”

“Enough.”

“It smells like enough to take down a pride
of lions, damn it!”

“Well last time she woke up before she was
supposed to, didn’t she?”

“If she has an adverse reaction, I’m holding
you responsible, Brother.”

“Don’t worry, Max; Evander said her system
will burn it off in a couple more hours. Underneath that sedative,
can’t you smell her adrenaline? I’ve never smelled anything like
it. It’s amazing . . .”

“Get out, Ryan. And get Evander in here
now!”

A door slams. Through my eyelids, I see white
light, but I can’t manage to lift them. I vaguely hear voices and,
if I’m not mistaken, I just heard I’ve been drugged with ketamine,
enough for a pride of lions. Beneath me, it feels like I’m lying on
a bed, and I can smell antiseptic. I must be in a hospital. Hands
are now moving over my arm, and there is a faint pinch in my wrist
. . . Are they drugging me again? I have to get out of here.

“She needs more fluids to flush the drug out
of her system,” I hear someone say.

“She’s been asleep for almost an entire day,
Evander. Is this normal?” I recognize that voice: it’s Maximos.

“Yes, it can be expected. But I want to show
you her EKG results. . .”

“These are just lines on a paper to me,
Evander. Translation, please?” I hear Maximos ask.

“Look how erratic the lines are . . .
especially this one. The Turn is starting.”

“How much time does she have?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I would expect it
to begin in a couple of hours. And after that, you know what will
happen . . .” What will happen? What is wrong with me?

“I’ll keep her with me and I’ll take care of
her,” says Maximos. “She should stay in the lab where I can monitor
her, Max. The data. . .”

“No, you’ve seen what a fighter she is. She
is scared. Keeping her strapped to machines and IVs isn’t going to
help our cause.”

“As you wish. But you’re the one who has to
tell Shashandra. She fixed up Arianna’s foot earlier, and I heard
her tone. You’re in trouble. . .”

“Ha, I always am with her. After the state I
brought Arianna home in last night, I got a well-deserved
tongue-lashing. You should have seen her, Evander . . .”

“Shashandra?”

“No, Arianna. She was prepared to jump from a
twenty-fifth floor window before I brought her here.”

“Sounds like she’s a Luminary all right.”

“By the gods, she’s going to be the death of
me, Brother.”

I don’t understand what they are talking
about, but I do understand that I need to get out of here. But my
body won’t obey my commands. I’ve heard nightmare stories of people
who went in for surgeries and were given anesthesia. But instead of
putting them to sleep, it only paralyzed them and they could feel
everything. I’m not in pain, but I’m aware of my own unresponsive
body. I’m trapped inside myself.

Beep beep beep.

“Evander, why is her heart monitor going off
like that? And her adrenaline, it’s increasing,” Maximos says.

“She is waking up. And panicking. This isn’t
good for her. She needs to be kept calm. If she isn’t kept calm, it
will bring the Turn on faster, which will make it more painful. I
can’t give her more drugs, though, and my healing energies won’t
work on her in this stage. Her body needs to be toxin-free when the
Turn takes place; otherwise there could be damage to her organs.
Max, can you try to talk to her?”