Fatemarked Origins (The Fatemarked Epic Book 4)
She tossed the coil over the side, well clear of her father, watching as it unspooled to the canyon floor. Then she sat back and waited, watching as the rope twisted and rocked back and forth. Eventually, Lore Vaid slipped over the top, his face red with exertion but still smiling and twinkle-eyed.
“Thanks,” he grunted, easing down beside her. The rope was tied securely around his waist, and he left it there for the descent.
“I’m glad you came up.”
“Your mother practically threw me out.”
Sonika laughed, playing with her long black hair, braiding and unbraiding it again and again. “What are we going to do?” Sonika asked, her smile vanishing as she heard the sound of marching slaves rise up once more.
She could feel her father’s gaze on her face, but she didn’t meet his eyes for fear of being enchanted. She didn’t want to be calm. Not right now. She wanted to be fire and fury, righteous anger and promises of change.
She wanted to be someone else.
“You sound like your mother.”
“What?” Now she did turn to look at him, surprised. It was so similar to what her mother had said earlier, about them being alike. “What do you mean? Mother does nothing but cook extra beans.”
“Watch your tongue,” her father snapped. Well, perhaps ‘snapped’ was too harsh a word. He spoke the words with a sharpness Sonika rarely heard from him.
“Why? It’s true.”
Her father sighed, looking away. Staring at Luahi, which was just rising to the east. “I’m sorry. I’m not being fair. You can’t help what you don’t know.”
Now Sonika was lost. Know what?
“For one, cooking extra beans is not nothing. It is a lot of effort trying to feed hundreds of slaves.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know you didn’t, but please, be more careful with your words.”
“I will. I’m sorry,” Sonika said. She’d let her quick tongue get the better of her again.
“Second, you are so much like your mother it scares the rock dust out of me,” he said. He chuckled. “And that’s a lot of rock dust. You should see how much comes out of my ears alone!”
Despite the added jape, Sonika couldn’t bring herself to smile. “We’re nothing alike,” she said. “She’s content to plod along, day after day, cooking her beans and watching the cycle of oppression continue. I don’t want to be that way. I want to do more.”
Though her father continued to stare at the moon, Sonika saw something flash across his face. A twitch of his cheek, the slight parting of his lips. It felt like words were hanging on the tip of his tongue, but none fell.
They sat in silence for a while, which was usually fine, but now felt wrong. Eventually, however, he patted her shoulder and said, “We should get back before it gets too dark. You’ll ride with me to the bottom?”
Sonika bit her lip, considering whether to ask Lore what he’d wanted to say before, but decided against it. Her father would tell her when he was ready.
She awoke to ragged whispers and a loud voice. A heated argument.
Sonika rolled over in bed to find figures silhouetted against the lighter frame of the cave mouth. One was clearly her father. Half a dozen others flanked him. Two held torches, illuminating the leather armor of the others.
Soldiers, Sonika thought, a warning bell ringing in her head. What could they possibly need in the middle of the night?
“Fine,” Lore Vaid said. “I will go with you, just please, do not wake my family. I don’t want them to see.” He hung his head as if ashamed of something. Father, what has happened? What have you done?
“Fool,” one of the soldiers said. “We’re not here for you. We’re here for your wife.”
Sonika frowned. She looked over at where her mother should’ve been sleeping, but the bed was empty. Scanning the space, she found the faint outline of her mother huddled in the shadows behind the supper table.
“My wife? What is a woman to you? She spends her days here, preparing our meals and keeping our home.”
Sonika had never heard her father trivialize his wife’s life in such a way. Though the words were true, she had the urge to speak up, to defend Brida, to talk of her compassion.
She threw her legs over the side of her bed and started to stand, but Gat appeared beside her, holding her arm tightly. Shaking his head.
She stared at him. “We have to do something,” she whispered.
Another shake.
“Your wife is a traitor to the empire,” the soldier growled. “She has committed treason of the highest order. Would you deny it? If so, you are as guilty as she.”
His father seemed to stand straighter at that. “I am the guilty one. I planned the meetings. I recruited the others. I am the traitor you’re looking for.”
The soldier laughed. “You are a lot of things, stone mason, but you’re no traitor. Stand aside or be cut down!”
Oh gods. Sonika’s father was no warrior, had never trained in any of the martial arts. He was a laborer, a hard worker, yes, but no kind of fighter. Please back down, Father. Please. This can all be explained, surely. Sonika knew neither her mother nor father had done anything wrong. It was all a misunderstanding, had to be.
A long silence stretched its legs, until she could take it no longer. Once again, she tried to stand, wrestling against her brother’s formidable grip.
Her mother slipped from the shadows, and said, “I am the one you want, soldiers. I will go without a struggle.”
“Brida, no,” Lore said, turning toward his wife.
“A wise choice,” the soldier said, “but it will not save you.”
Brida said nothing to that, and Sonika could only watch as her parents embraced one last time, her mother offering a final glance in her direction before turning away.
“And your son and daughter?” the soldier said. “Where are they?”
“They know nothing. They are innocent.” This from her mother. Wait, Sonika thought. What do we not know? The way her mother said it made her sound guilty.
“Take me instead of my son, my daughter,” Lore said.
The soldier laughed. “We are taking you. We’re taking all of you, just to be safe. A whole family of captured rebels will make a royal prize to Emperor Vin Hoza.”
From there, everything happened so fast Sonika would later remember it as a series of blurry events melting into one another like daylight into twilight. Her father—her father—moved like lightning, striking one of the soldiers in the face with a high kick in the style of phen ru, an art he wasn’t supposed to know. The man fell back with a cry, even as her mother jumped into the arms of one of the other soldiers, wrapping her legs around his torso. She threw herself back, vaulting off of her hands and sending the soldier tumbling. As she landed, she screamed, “Sonika! Gat! Run! Climb!”
Sonika was so shocked by the turn of events that she froze, but thankfully Gat had already started moving, pulling her after him.
They flew toward the entrance, sidestepping the fallen soldier, who was rolling over and standing up. The other four soldiers blocked their path, though her mother and father were keeping two of them busy with blows they were forced to block. Who are these two people? Her parents had become strangers to her.
“Go!” her father shouted. “The cliffs. It’s the only way.”
Sonika hesitated as she faced the last two guards, lean, muscly Phanecians strapped with blades on their feet and wrists. One of them grinned at her. Yes, she’d dreamed of such a moment, when she could take down just such an arrogant soldier, but now that it was here her confidence vanished.
Gat said, “Sonika. Up.”
It was a code word for a game they’d played often as children. Above the cave entrance was a cleft cut into the rock, the perfect size for a hand—or four—to grip. Sonika nodded.
“On three,” Gat said. “One…”
“Two…” Sonika answered.
“Three!” they said as one, charging for the
two soldiers, who readied themselves to strike. However, just before making contact, Sonika and her brother leapt as high as they could into the air, grabbing the wide handhold and letting their momentum carry them over the guards’ heads. They landed beside each other in a crouch. Gat almost went sprawling, but Sonika steadied him with a hand on his elbow.
“C’mon!” Gat said, dragging her left. “Climb!”
Fueled by adrenaline and fear, Sonika sprang onto the cliffs, choosing the easiest hand and footholds, easily outdistancing Gat in a matter of seconds. She looked back to find him struggling to get over the first difficult part. We should’ve gone to the right, where the rope is still hanging, Sonika thought. But then her parents spilled from the cave, still fighting the soldiers, and she realized they could use the rope. “Father!” she cried. “The rope!”
“Go!” her father shouted, but, after throwing a punch, he spun and made for the rope. Something was strange about the way he moved. He was doubled over and clutching his stomach. He’s injured.
She didn’t move, waiting for Gat to catch up, watching as her father grabbed the rope and began to climb with one hand, walking his feet up the wall as he hung on.
Her mother, on the other hand, was surrounded by three soldiers. She swept her foot along the ground in a whirlwind circle, cutting their ankles from beneath them. “She’s…incredible,” Sonika murmured to herself, in awe. Her mother, who had once told her stories of her days dancing the womanly dance of phen sur, was using the very same dance to fight against masters of phen ru. And she was winning. It can be done, Sonika realized in that moment. Though she’d always thought it, she’d never truly believed it.
Until now.
Her mother broke for the wall, but one of the soldiers dove at her feet, grabbing her ankle and tripping her. She cried out, but rolled and managed to kick him in the face. He howled and released her and then she was on the wall, clambering up beside Lore, who was struggling to hang onto the rope with one hand.
The soldiers were injured but not defeated. They raced forward, beginning to climb. It didn’t take them long to reach Sonika’s father, using the rope to their own advantage. Brida kicked at them, but they grabbed her feet, pulling her back.
“Gat!” Sonika screamed as he hauled himself up beside her. “We have to do something!”
“Get to the top,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t waste the chance.”
“No!”
He was already grabbing her arm, pulling her upward.
She didn’t fight him, even as dread filled her. They were abandoning their parents, willingly.
She glanced back to find her mother still struggling to kick herself free. “Brida!” her father said. “Leave me. I am already finished. The wound is too deep.”
“No. I won’t.” Her mother’s growl was so ferocious she might’ve been a lioness.
“Think of Sonika. Of Gat.”
For a moment time seemed frozen, her parents hanging helplessly while the soldiers swarmed to reach them. And then Brida Vaid released a scream and a vicious kick that sent one of the soldiers tumbling to the ground. She fought upward, hand over hand, her feet following in perfect rhythm.
Sonika had only ever seen one other person climb like that.
Herself.
“Cut it!” Lore groaned, grimacing. Blood spilled between his fingers, splashing the soldiers grabbing at his legs, pooling on the ground.
Brida looked back one more time, pulled out a knife hidden somewhere in her clothing, and then began to saw.
Both Sonika and Gat watched in horror as their mother cut the rope holding their father to the side of the cliff. He wasn’t high enough for the fall to kill him, but it could break his legs. Possibly even his back, if he landed the wrong way.
Yet her mother didn’t hesitate. How can she do that?
From behind them, someone yelled and then a soldier grabbed Sonika, roping his fingers around her neck, squeezing with one hand while hanging onto the wall with the other. “Gaaawt,” Sonika gurgled, struggling to breathe. The soldier must’ve silently climbed the opposite side while they were watching their parents struggle with his comrades.
Gat threw a punch, his fist whistling past her eyes and landing a glancing blow on the soldier’s chin. The pressure on her windpipe lessened, and she sucked in a breath, thrusting out her knee to connect with his midsection. He groaned, losing his footing as he scrabbled at the loose stones breaking free.
Sonika and Gat climbed, though she glanced back with each move up, watching as the rope finally broke, her father falling away. He took two soldiers with him, and even landed on them, cushioning his fall. He lay motionless for a few long moments, but then rolled over, grimacing. He’s not dead, Sonika thought, releasing a held breath.
They climbed higher. The soldier that had tried to choke Sonika had resumed pursuit, and was faster than Gat, slowly closing the gap. To the right, Brida angled her climb toward them, her lips a grim line of determination. Two more soldiers had followed her, and now reached the rope and used it to make swift work of the upper portion of the wall.
Sonika clambered over the cliff’s edge. She swiveled back to help Gat, but the soldier was already upon him, pulling his foot in the opposite direction. One of Gat’s hands slipped and he almost fell, but Sonika managed to clutch the collar of his shirt until he could reattach himself to the wall.
Brida arrived, gripping a cleft in the wall with two hands and swinging her body to land a kick to the soldier’s abdomen. He released Gat, trying to bring up his other arm to block the next blow. The frantic movement threw off his balance, his body twisted, and, with a squeal, he fell.
Sonika kept her eyes trained on Gat, not wanting to see the aftermath, though she heard the thump of his body as it landed. No one could survive a fall from this height.
“Up, Gat!” Brida said, turning back to face the final two soldiers, who were on opposite flanks, trying to surround her. They moved in cautiously, having seen what had happened to their comrade.
Sonika hauled Gat onto the plateau, reaching back down to help her mother. “Mother!” Two big steps up and she would be within reach. With the upper ground, they would be able to defend against their two remaining foes.
Her mother’s eyes met hers. Something flashed in them, and Sonika could feel what they were saying in her chest, like a slash to the heart. “Mother? Hurry! We can make it!”
Her mother smiled. “I love you,” she said. “I love you both. Be you. Be strong.”
“Mother?”
In one swift motion, Brida Vaid twisted around and threw herself from the cliff, grabbing the two Phanecian soldiers as she plummeted to the canyon floor.
Sonika had finally stopped screaming, though tears continued to flow freely down her cheeks, her sobs silently shaking her chest, occasionally choking her.
Gat cried, too, though not as hard, his arms wrapped around her from behind, holding her tight.
There was a commotion down below, and, eventually, he peeled himself away, untethered what was left of the rope from the spike, and pulled it up. “We have to move,” he said. “They may send soldiers up after us.” Though he spoke the words with certainty, there was a hollowness in his tone that matched what Sonika felt within her ribcage.
“I have to—I want to—I need to—” Sonika babbled as she crawled toward the edge.
Gat grabbed her under the arms and pulled her back. She struggled, thrashing against him, but he held her as she sobbed once more. This time there were no tears, just a shaking of her body that made her muscles and bones ache, her throat hurt, her eyes squeeze shut. She wished for oblivion, for numbness, for anything to take away the pain she felt in the core of her being.
Eventually, however, she allowed Gat to help her to her feet, steering her across the plateau toward the next canyon over.
“What are we supposed to do?” Sonika said the next morning.
The previous night, they’d stumbled along the plateau between
the canyons for a long time. Sometimes they cried, sometimes they were silent, always they held onto each other for support. Sonika had known that if either of them had let go, they both would’ve fallen and never gotten up again.
Once they felt they were far enough away from danger, they climbed down another canyon—one that was well away from the heart of Phanea, uninhabited. There they’d found a small alcove behind a set of boulders, falling asleep more from exhaustion—both emotional and physical—than a desire to rest.
Now, behind those same boulders, they sat across from each other, their knees touching gently. Gat’s face was smudged with dirt, his hands raw and bleeding, his shirt torn at the collar where Sonika had grabbed him to help him onto the top of the cliff.
She was glad she didn’t have a looking glass to see what she looked like.
“I don’t know what to do,” Gat said.
“Did you know Mother could—”
“No,” he said.
“But what about Fath—”
“No!” Gat snapped.
Sonika hung her head, tears welling up once more.
Gat sighed and touched her leg. “Sorry, I’m—”
“You don’t have to explain anything. Not to me.”
Once more, they huddled together. Gat held her head to his chest for a long, long time. The beat of his heart against her cheek was the only comfort left.
They powdered their faces for the first time, using chalk dust they stole from a vendor. (Sonika distracted him while Gat snatched it.)
Though they were still a mess and in need of a good cleaning, that could wait.
Every time a soldier passed, Sonika held her breath, halfway between fleeing and kicking him in the throat. And each time the soldier walked straight by. They were just two white-faced Phanecians out for a stroll.
The marketplace was abuzz with gossip, which was the main reason they’d returned to Phanea. They needed to know for certain.