Moonlight War- Act II (The Realmers Book 3) Page 10

  Her stomach moaned in pain, her throat so dry she could hardly swallow anymore. She was scared Mikhail would be waiting for her as soon she ascended the surface. But she had never been one to live in fear, fighting back was the reason she'd landed herself in the asylum in first place. Although Mikhail was considerably scarier than her slave masters had been.

  She needed food, she needed water even more. She'd die of dehydration if she didn't drink soon.

  It was time to brave the surface of Sarume.

  *

  Taija chose a grate at random to escape from the sewers. Fortunately for her, she’d emerged in the backstreets near the city market. She hurried there, quickly, driven by her extreme hunger and thirst.

  It had been so long since she'd been out in public. For the first time in her life, she walked the streets without shackles around her ankles.

  But nor could she be mistaken for one of the rich. As she hobbled through the streets on her bad ankle, the civilians stared at her curiously. Her tattoo was a dead giveaway, and Taija knew it would draw suspicion, due to her not wearing slave attire too. So she kept her head down, letting her lank red hair hide her face.

  She’d only stick out now due to the blandness of her clothes. The non-slave population paraded through the streets around her, dressed in elegant suits in shade of turquoise and teal. Most of the civilians had also donned their long cloaks, taken from the pelts of cats and dogs they’d made extinct a dozen years ago.

  Taija glanced at the clock tower in the centre of the square. It read 75 past 15, a little past midday.

  She was so hungry it felt like there was a cavernous hole in her stomach, every time she swallowed it was agony. She needed food and water, but had no money, she'd need to steal.

  Taija wandered the streets, trying to blend in whilst also trying to get close enough to one of the market stalls to swipe some fruit, a bottle of water, anything. But she was too conspicuous, her asylum clothes stood out. Stall boys watched her with her suspicious eyes whenever she got close.

  She was getting more and more desperate, especially when she saw her own face pasted over a TV screen. Shocked, Taija walked to the shop window. Her face on the TV dissolved and images of the asylum appeared as a newswoman narrated.

  “The apparent accomplice of the female inmate broke into the institution early evening this Sorrday, murdering two members of staff in the process. The accomplice is said to be extremely dangerous and the Society expect he is part of the rebel faction. The Society urges anyone who sees a large youth with purple hair accompanied by a slave-girl of auburn colouring, to report them to the authorities immediately.”

  Taija's stomach seized up and her head felt cold. If they caught her now they'd send her to prison until she died, or they’d kill her quickly, with a public execution.

  She needed to snatch some food and go back into hiding, now.

  She ran back to the market stalls, subtlety forgotten. She had to be quick, she had too…she turned to see two people smiling at her.

  Taija's eyes instantly snapped onto the food and drink in their hands. The boy was eating a huge hot dog, whilst the girl was licking and ice cream innocently. Both had bottles of water in their free hands.

  They sat on the pavement by the road, nestled in the space between two factory buildings. They weren't wearing slave robes, but neither were they rich Society members. They must be homeless people who hadn’t been captured by slavers yet. They certainly looked homeless, wearing ripped and ill-fitted clothes, their faces smudged with dirt.

  As she made eye contact, the boy waved her over.

  “Going on the rob, are we?” He grinned at her.

  “What, no…”

  He chuckled. “No use lying, we've been watching you for the past ten minutes, it couldn't be more obvious you're looking for food. I'm Jacko, this is Priya.”

  “Rat,” Taija yelped, pointing to the rodent on Jacko’s shoulder. “There’s one on you.”

  “Heh, don’t be silly. This is Jerry, my pet.”

  “What is that?” She realised it wasn’t a rat, but she didn’t know what it was.

  “Jerry’s a gerbil,” Jacko grinned at her warmly.

  “I’ve never seen one before, or even heard of one?” Were they extinct too, like cat and dogs?

  “Oh yeah, you don’t have them around here,” Jacko said. He paused, “in this part of Sarume I mean. Me and Priya have been to a few countries around Sarume. Here have this.”

  To her amazement, Jacko snapped his hot dog in half and placed it in her hand. How could he be selfless when he probably needed the food himself? Taija had met few genuinely nice people in her life.

  Jacko appeared no older than fourteen, with the baby fat around his face to prove it. He had a sweet smile, short sandy hair and kind eyes.

  Priya looked around Taija’s age, but was also incredibly nervous. She was quite beautiful, with raven black hair pulled back in a long plait and skin the colour of cocoa.

  “Thank you,” Taija rasped. “May I have some water too?”

  “Sure.” Jacko passed her his bottle. “We sewer rats gotta' look after each other.”

  Taija gulped down the water eagerly. A drink had never felt so refreshing.

  After she'd finished she looked back at Jacko. “What did you say, sewer rats?”

  “She isn't one of us.” Priya spoke in an emotionless voice. “She probably just ran away from the slave barracks.”

  “Ah, but she’s of us now.” Jacko beamed.

  “You mean a homeless person?” Taija asked.

  “Uh huh. We all had homes once,” Jacko replied. “But the sewers are our home now.”

  “But I just came from there, that's no place to live.”

  “It is if you know the right places, there's a whole bunch of us down there, nearly all of us ex-slaves, you'll fit right in.”

  “Unless she's not a slave at all,” said Priya. “Maybe she drew that tattoo on. Maybe she's just a rich girl trying to give her parents a lesson by disappearing. She isn't wearing slave clothes.”

  Jacko gave Priya an odd look. “No, I told you she’s the one… one like us.” Jacko grinned at Taija again. “Besides, she's a bit too dirty to be one of the rich, no offense.”

  “I am a slave…no, was a slave,” Taija said.

  “That's settled then.” Jacko stood up, gently placing the gerbil Jerry into his pocket.

  Taija was average height for a girl, but Jacko still only came up to her chin, he was skinnier than her too, practically skeletal.

  “You can come back with us,” he said. “There's always room for a little one.”

  Taija wasn't a hundred percent sure about living in the sewers. But what other option did she have? At least it can't be as bad as the slave masters, or the asylum doctors, definitely better than Mikhail.

  “It's awesome down there,” Jacko continued. “All the food and furnishings you could want, we've got it all sorted. Well the furniture is second hand, a little moth-eaten and broken, but the food is mostly edible. The rich throw out enough to feed a poor family every day."

  “Okay, it’s worth a shot.” Taija shrugged.

  It all felt like a dream, ever since Mikhail had captured her nothing had felt like real life. Truth be told ever since she'd awoken in the asylum she'd been disconnected from any kind of reality. She was nothing more than shrivelled leaf, moving in the current of a murky river she had no idea would end. She had no control over her life, being born a slave, she never had.

  “C'mon then.” Jacko was still smiling at her. “I've got loads of mates that you'll get on with.”

  Priya got to her feet begrudgingly, something akin to pity or anger in her eyes as she gazed at Taija. She fell in behind Priya as they both followed Jacko's lead.

  Jacko babbled on about the sewer hideout and his friends there as they walked. “You'll love Ralice when you meet him. I just know you’ll get along with Darcy, too.”

  Taija wasn't paying much attention; it w
as hard when she was constantly looking around for guards. Thanks to the news programme on the TV, they'd be searching for her. She hadn't seen any yet, but that didn't mean they weren't just round the corner.

  She felt a wave of relief when Jacko led her off the streets and down a secluded alley.

  “Almost there,” said Jacko as he removed a manhole cover.

  “Your new life awaits.” He winked, before jumping down the hole and disappearing from view.

  Priya followed him silently, not looking at her once. Taija hesitated for just a moment before following suit. It was a short drop, no more than six feet, and then she found herself standing at the top of a tunnel which sloped down into darkness.

  “I actually thought this mission would prove a bit of a challenge,” Jacko said to Priya as the three of them started down the tunnel.

  “It was almost too easy, takes the fun out of it,” he chuckled.

  Priya smiled back, but her expression was hollow.

  Unease spiked through Taija's mind.

  “What're you on about?”

  Light suddenly flickered into being, throwing Jacko's face into flickering shadows. The light was a ball of flames dancing in his hands. His kind smile twisted into a snarl as he lunged for her.

  Chapter 36- Hidden Identities Unearthed

  When Joelle first awoke, she thought her eyes might’ve been glued shut, the darkness was so total. Then she realised she could blink, and panicked that she was blind. Whoever had attacked her had plucked out her eyes and discarded her here.

  Her gasps were the only sound as she crawled across cold stone. Before Joelle could descend into full-blown hysterics, her eyes slowly adjusted to the lack of light. She heard the faint humming of electricity, a mild clanking of machinery and the sound of glugging water.

  Instinctively, she attempted to cast Darkbreaker and conjure a ball of green flames to levitate above her palm. As she gestured however, not only did the magic not come, but she heard the clinking of the Uqari cuffs that had been snapped over her wrists.

  No, not this! In all the years she’d been at Veneseron, ever since she’d accidentally cast her first spell, she’d never been subjected to the cuffs. It felt like one of her hands had been cut off. Whenever she reached for the sorcery within her, there was nothing; she was hollow.

  Joelle forced herself to calm down. She controlled her breathing, trying not to hyperventilate. Okay, just focus. You can get out of this. You can find a way to get these cuffs off.

  Her head throbbed like someone had taken a hammer to her skull. She remembered being thrown into a wall, by a powerful air spell. She yearned to heal herself with magic; she likely had a severe concussion.

  Joelle reached for the dagger she’d sheathed at her belt, but found nothing there. The paintbrush had been taken from her, too. “Ushk,” she hissed into the darkness. She could’ve used the brush to draw herself a way out. Battlebeard must’ve snatched them from her. That dumb brute. But there’d been someone else too. Someone had attacked her from behind. There’s more than one kidnapper?

  She prepared her magic to blast her way out of the room, before realising that wasn’t an option. Oh, glarqing hell. Sorcery was such a second nature to her, that she couldn’t fathom life with it not being there anymore.

  Without Darkbreaker, she still couldn’t see well. Joelle could only make out her hand if she held it close to her face. Even then, it was just a pale smudge.

  She staggered blindly through the room, heading toward the sound of glugging water. She kept her hands out in front of her to stop herself bumping into something, but also to attack any enemies that might be lurking in the shadows.

  She had the awful sense that she wasn’t alone.

  She tripped and landed on top of something lumpy. Seconds later, she knew it was a body. Her instinct was to jerk back, in case it was a stranger, but then she thought of Elijah and Jed, not to mention the kidnapped Venators. She just prayed it wasn’t a corpse. Then she felt the beads Elijah often attached to the end of his braids. Relief soared through her, until she realised his body was completely still.

  “Elijah, Elijah, wake up.”

  No matter how hard she shook him, he wouldn’t wake up. No, don’t be dead, you can’t be dead. She felt for a pulse at his neck desperately, sighing in relief when she found one. Elijah must’ve been knocked out like her. And without magic there was no way to wake him; she’d just have to wait for him to come round.

  “Just hang in there, man,” she whispered, carefully stepping over him. Joelle was prepared to carry him out of here if she saw an escape and he was still unconscious.

  Several feet away from Elijah’s body, her hands met a rough material. As she touched the material, it slipped, flooding the room with light. The material had been a black curtain draped over a set of tanks filled with bright green liquid.

  Joelle gasped. The tanks were also filled with bodies.

  There were four giant tubes, each one full of a viscous green gel, three of them containing a Venator. She recognised the Venators floating inside the tubes as Arianna, Cece and Cleo.

  “What the hell!” she screamed.

  For several terrible moments, she thought they were dead. Their eyes were closed and the bodies were pale. But then she saw their chests rise and fall. Oh, thank Rueda.

  The three girls still wore their Venator uniform, but had several plugs on their arms.Thin wires connected the plugs to the side of the tanks. All three were in a deep sleep. Joelle didn’t fail to notice the empty tube either; she couldn’t help but wonder if it was meant for her.

  Elijah had been right all along. Venators had indeed been stolen from the Fortress. But what on Earth for?

  Joelle looked around desperately; she had to find a way to get them out. She guessed she was in the basement of the mansion, in an underground laboratory of some sort. It was bare, with a cold stone floor and four walls. In each corner, however, was heavy machinery and tools she didn’t recognise. The only other furnishing was an iron table, with leather straps hanging off the side. It made her nauseous to look at. She imagined the horrible experiments Battlebeard and his mysterious accomplice might have done on the victims.

  The the only way in or out was a plain metal door. Joelle ran to it and seized the handle, but it was locked. She guessed it would be, but still the feeling of being trapped closed in on her.

  Maybe she could use something to break the tubes open. But would that hurt the Venators? She had no idea what the green gel could be, or if the Venators would even wake up once she got them free. What if they’re all in comas they can’t awake from?

  Before she could grab one of the tools, Joelle heard footsteps nearing the door. She backed into the centre of the room. If she couldn’t use magic, she’d to fight the old-fashioned way, with her fists, or even bite if she got the chance.

  She stopped breathing as she heard the lock click. Then the door opened and a man entered. She’d been expecting Battlebeard, but this stranger was human. He must be the accomplice.

  The man had long sandy hair and beard to match. He wore extravagant blue cloak and the finest clothes. Yet now his attire was ripped and frayed, covered in dirt and bloodstains. She recognised him.

  Yet the man she knew, would never have long hair or a beard, or let his clothes get so filthy. She’d been around him all her life. Hell, his family home was only a few streets away from her own.

  “Joelle, isn’t it?” The man asked. “I believe you know my daughter.”

  *

  When his eyes opened, Jed struggled to raise his head. It felt too heavy for his neck to support and throbbed painfully, like it had it had its own heartbeat.

  He sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. He was in a large, lavish bedroom. At least it had once been lavish; the room’s finery had decayed. The walls were drenched in cobwebs, the curtains were moth-eaten and the pillows on the sofa had rotted in places.

  He was leaning against a metal support beam. Jed tried to sta
nd, but couldn’t. He wriggled and gasped as something cut into his wrists. He craned his neck round to see a four-poster bed, which he was tied to. The chains holding him to the bed were Uqari cuffs, which meant…

  Jed frantically tried to summon his magic, to no avail. He’d never been in enough trouble at Veneseron to suffer the punishment of Uqari cuffs, now he knew how it felt to have his sorcery cut off.

  He strained against his chains, hoping to get incredibly lucky and break them by pure force, but all that happened was the chain-links biting into his flesh.

  “Damn it!” He cursed, breathing hard from his escape attempts.

  Even if he couldn’t break the Uqari cuffs if the beam had been made of wood, he might’ve been able to splinter it and get loose. Unfortunately, he was stuck with metal that wouldn’t budge.

  There had to be something in the room that he could use. But before he saw anything, the floorboards creaked outside the door. He noticed the shuffling footsteps were light, it couldn’t be Battlebeard.

  He froze, staring at the door handle, transfixed. Jed had no idea who, or what could be on the other side

  The door handle moved down and the door inched open. His jaw dropped when she walked into the room, beaming happily at him.

  “Cera,” he gasped.

  Chapter 37- Ghoul Galoshes

  Evan was falling fast, tumbling into darkness on a slippery surface. He could see nothing yet it felt like he was in a huge, twisting slide. The tunnel-slide took him round and round until he felt sick and then finally deposited him without warning.

  Evan fell out of the slide and landed backside-first on ground that chinked loudly. He winced, looking down and realising he was sitting on an almighty mountain of riches. What had to be thousands of gold coins, mixed with great big gemstones formed a high hill, which Evan had landed on top of.