Zylan Rebellion Read online

  She was next. A buyer had been located who liked red skin and, if she didn’t get away now, her false links would be put in place at suns rise. There would be no other chance for escape and she would be in the next auction.

  The thought of enduring the public spectacle, of standing naked and exposed on the auction block, her body accessible to the fondling and probing of interested buyers, made her believe death would be a viable option. From what she’d seen during the appalling demonstration, the men weren’t allowed to take the girl’s virginity but they could do just about anything else while they inspected the merchandise being offered.

  Once a bid was accepted, the girl’s new master would control the level of pain sent to the false links through a black box he kept hidden in his pocket. This device allowed the new owner to manipulate his newly purchased mate and compel total obedience, including submission to whatever sexual act he desired. The exhibition of control and depravity following the men’s selections had traumatized her very soul. Successful buyers were encouraged to use the box and demonstrate how well it worked on their choice of mate.

  The final act for the newly mated men at the auction was to have their nipples pierced and a parody of mating links threaded through the new holes. These piercings were for looks only. To make it appear each man was truly mated. There were no ties to any box to create pain, nor did they have their genitals pierced. The process was done solely to allow the men to wear the traditional mating garments showing the chains hanging from their nipples. Everyone would believe they were truly mated.

  It was demoralizing to realize these auctions had been going on for many life cycles. This man had ruined the lives of many women.

  Ahnika came back to herself lying curled in a tight ball on the floor of her cell. She had one chance for freedom and it would be very risky. If she were caught, it could mean her death. Knowing this, she still decided to try and escape. She wanted them to kill her if she failed. Couldn’t bear the thought of being false-linked to a man whose thrills in life would come from causing her pain and forcing her into total submission.

  She’d devised the plan setnons ago, but the beatings she received kept her too weak to make an attempt. Now that they wanted her strong enough to live through having links added to her body, they’d left her alone to heal and gather strength. She was still sore and bruised, but well enough for what she needed to do.

  Her cell door opened.

  Heart lurching in her chest she was unable to control the fear snaking through her limbs. She stood up on trembling legs and slowly walked from the small underground chamber, down the long, dark tunnel to the bathing pools. She tried to swallow around the constriction in her throat and calm her pulse as it throbbed in frantic anticipation. This was it…she’d run out of time.

  Before tonight, she’d only been in the pools when the light from Zylar’s two suns shown through an opening at the top. It had been the only natural light she’d seen since being kidnapped. Because they wanted her clean for the early morning procedure to add the links, she was being taken to the pool at night. The torchlight flickering on the walls cast moving shadows on the water and she prayed the shifting light would make it harder to see and help conceal her from the eyes of her watcher.

  Fear had been a part of her life for the past two life cycles and she knew it intimately. Everything centered on her ability to work through her panic. Shaking inside, so afraid of failing this all-important attempt, she tried to concentrate on her surroundings.

  Surveying the pool that had been her only refuge, she stole a surreptitious glance at old Alma, her watcher for tonight. Good. As she’d hoped, Alma was sitting on a large rock and leaning against the wall at the entrance, already dozing. Perfect. Alma was the one usually assigned as her watcher and there had been many times the two of them had repeated this scenario. Alma depended on Ahnika to wake her from her nap when it was time to go. Well, not this time With luck, Alma would sleep until the suns rise.

  Knowing that Alma would be severely punished if the escape were successful, Ahnika buried her guilt. The old woman knew the prisoners kept in the cells weren’t there because they wanted to be…and she was well aware of the pain and suffering all the women were required to go through. Ahnika refused to feel remorse in running for her life.

  Over the last several setnons, Ahnika had stayed beneath the water longer and swam farther from the entrance to the cells. Initially, there’d been small panic attacks among her watchers when she remained submerged for increased periods of time. But she calmly explained that, on her planet, it was normal to stay underwater for so long.

  Zmarians were born with special abilities to hold their breath for several long periods of time. Never staying under as long as she was able, each attempt lasted just a few minons…any longer and she would be taking a risk that someone would figure out how she ultimately disappeared. If it worked. Eventually the watchers became used to her ways and let her have this one freedom, to do this one small thing They had no understanding of her world or her people’s physical makeup and this lack of knowledge would work in her favor.

  Ahnika snorted under her breath as she stepped, naked, into the embrace of cool, clean water. More water than land, her home world’s environment had changed Zmarian physiology to adapt to their liquid surroundings. The red pigmentation of her skin allowed her to absorb oxygen within each pore and store it for later use. Zmarians were also born with increased lung capacity, and had the ability to hold their breath for extremely long periods of time. Small thing? Both of these traits meant she could stay underwater for over a nilt.

  Ahnika swam out a little from the bank and dove deep, staying submerged for several minons. She quietly broke the surface of the dark lavender water and quickly glanced at the old watcher. The resting woman hadn’t moved.

  Silently she made her way to the other side of the underground pool. Several setnons ago, while swimming close to the walls, she’d discovered an opening in the rock below the water’s surface. The hole appeared to be a belowground river feeding the small subterranean lake in this chamber. She had been hoping it was a tunnel with an exit and not—please, Goddess—just a short passage that would dump her into an inner courtyard within this prison. She’d followed the water’s path in her mind, but tracing its entire length reached beyond her psychic abilities. She could only hope not being able to “see” where it ended was a good thing—she needed a way through to the outside world.

  Before diving deep, she took a deep breath and then slid determinedly into the tunnel, her mind turned firmly away from terror and possible death.

  There was no light or way for her to see what awaited her. Moving slowly with her arms stretched in front of her, she closed her eyes tight. With her eyes open she kept struggling to see and the mental war robbed her of needed strength. Several times she started to panic, her mind screaming in denial as her air reserves ran low and her body protested its lack of oxygen. Each time, just as she’d decided she would die in this water-clogged cemetery, she would miraculously find a small pocket of air, which allowed her a few minons to rest and breathe.

  Stale and barely breathable, those small gulps of air still meant the difference between life and death and ensured her freedom. Each victory provided enough encouragement to fuel her resolve to keep going and Ahnika followed the underground tunnel, losing any sense of time.

  At long last, the water dumped her into a cold, outside lake. The fresh air and the reality of being outside for the first time in two life cycles devastated her emotions. Crawling to shore, she lay for a very long time sobbing quietly in the soft blue grass. When she finally managed to get herself under control, she rolled onto her back and looked in awe at the night sky. She’d escaped her tormentors and, at least for now, she was free!

  Hugging her arms around her bare chest, she grinned like a lunatic. Her luck seemed to have changed and she would be able to keep running.

  Above her, shining full and bright as omens of hope, Zylar�
�s three gorgeous moons were ready to light her way.

  Chapter Two

  Raj went to meet with his client, Brac. The man lived in a large stone stronghold that differed greatly from the usual Zylan dwellings. Colorful and warm, homes in Tanar were normally fashioned of wood. Each family used shades of a specific color to set them apart…a son’s house was painted a lighter shade of blue than the father’s, for instance.

  But this rock structure was ugly and depressing, its size and the lack of windows or any coloration marked it as a sinister fortress. The only other structure made of stone in Tanar was the ruling place, however, the two buildings appeared to be polar opposites. The palace had windows and colorful banners on the outer walls, with flowering plants and small blue areas for sitting outside. Brac’s home had no color, no windows and the surrounding area was nothing more than dirt and rocks.

  Reaching out with his psychic conscience, he was surprised to find that the rock walls of the fortress seemed to somehow suppress emotions, as if they were shielding secrets. He could sense despair radiating from within, along with sensations of pain, sadness and fear. But the feelings were vague, as if they weren’t coming from a specific person…but resonated from within.

  As a servant let Raj into the building, he cursed his weakened state. Regretted his decision to delay recharging his psychic power after his last job because he hadn’t thought he’d need to feed before meeting with Brac. The request to locate a missing daughter seemed a very simple quest and hadn’t triggered any alarms. Well, now the alarms were ringing loud and clear and he really wished he were at full strength.

  Brac was a member of the Ruling Council of Ten on Zylar. The Ten were chosen for their individual psychic strength and strong moral character to assist Tar, Zylar’s Ruler, in governing the planet. Mica, Raj’s brother was in charge of the Ruling Council. Raj didn’t usually worry about planet politics—that was his brother’s problem. But he’d heard enough to know Mica wasn’t happy with Brac. They had a history of constant disagreement over moral and political issues. Brac always seemed to be in competition with Mica, at least in Brac’s own mind.

  Most of Brac’s competitive attitude stemmed from his jealousy over Mica’s position as High Priest of Zylar. On Zylar, a person’s hair color often signified special powers or gifts. Both Mica and Brac were born with black hair streaked with vivid copper highlights. This color signified one of the mystical characteristics indicating those born gifted and possibly destined to become High Priest. Brac’s streaks were a little more subdued and—unfortunately for Brac—he lacked the most important indicator that a person possessed the entire set of characteristics required for the honor of High Priest. He hadn’t been able to speak at birth.

  Raj remembered hearing how much Brac had hated not being born with this inherent knowledge as Mica had been. Somehow Raj didn’t think Brac would hire him if he realized Mica was his brother and he wasn’t going to volunteer the information.

  When Brac finally called him into his duca, the psychic sensations Raj got from both the man and his home bothered him deeply. Looking around the small room, he nodded to the man sitting behind the desk. He would need to be alert. Careful. Something wasn’t right in this place. He couldn’t put a specific name or location to the impressions he felt. But one emotion—misery—almost overwhelmed him with its intensity.

  While the other psychic imprints battering at his tired mind were suppressed and obscure, the man in front of him clearly emitted waves of self-importance and arrogance—he was full of himself. Raj knew there was more to Brac than met the eye—more to this place. He didn’t intend to jeopardize the assignment from Brac to hunt for his daughter. Something was wrong with this entire setup and he planned to find out what was going on, whether Brac hired him or not. It would be easier if Brac thought Raj worked for him.

  “Raj, it is nice to meet you. I have heard many good things about you. It is said you are one of the most successful Hunters, and I need the best. My daughter disappeared from our home six bi-nons ago and I fear for her safety.”

  Brac’s tone of voice was correct, but as Raj silently studied him, he wondered at the sense of coldness emanating from the man as he related the circumstances of his daughter’s disappearance. Brac managed to say the right words but the emotions didn’t match.

  “So, can you tell me what happened? Or at least what you know?”

  “She had been swimming in our underground pond when she just…vanished. Alma, her watcher, was with her. The old woman fell asleep and has been punished for failing her duty. We don’t know how my daughter left, where she went or why, but she must be brought home. Surely you can see the danger she faces if one of my political enemies captures her and tries to use her against me? Your job is to find her and bring her back to us.”

  Raj flinched at the man’s callous attitude when he said he’d punished the watcher. His recitation also raised some interesting questions. Just whom did Brac think his political enemies were that they would take advantage of a young girl? Mica and Tar? Ridiculous.

  “Does your Life Companion have any idea where she would have gone? May I talk to her?” Raj asked.

  Anger radiated from Brac. “No,” he stated flatly. “Zabeth is upset by this and I have given her something to calm her down. There is no reason for you to discuss this matter with my mate.”

  Okay…

  “You say she has been gone…by the way, what did you say your daughter’s name was?”

  “I didn’t,” Brac snapped. “But her name is Ahnika and I told you she has been gone for six bi-nons.”

  Interesting. Brac was barely controlling a deep rage. If he thought Raj would back off on the questions, he had the wrong man. “Is there a reason you waited almost a non to enlist the services of a Hunter?”

  Brac sputtered and visibly made the attempt to calm himself. “For the first few bi-nons, I thought she would come back by herself or my people would find her. When neither of those things happened, I began to search for the best Hunter on Zylar. That took a little time. Plus, well…something you will need to be aware of, but I wouldn’t want to be common knowledge—Ahnika can be a little unstable at times and is often melodramatic. I would ask that you not listen to her fantasies. I can give you a calming potion to administer as soon as you recover her. Having her unable to resist will make the journey back to Tanar easier on both of you.”

  Brac’s unemotional pronouncement of the girl’s instability caused Raj’s eyebrows to rise. A father volunteering to send him with drugs to keep his daughter quiet opened up some very interesting questions. Questions he wouldn’t ask. He’d rather see what happened when he found the girl.

  “Okay, let’s see what I can do for you. Do you have a holo-picture of her? No? Then please give me a description of your daughter.”

  Brac gave a brief, suspiciously impassive and completely worthless description of Ahnika. “I have no holo but I can describe her for you. She is short for a Zylan, about five foot and seven inches tall. She is twenty-one life cycles old. Her figure is curvy and she has brown hair that goes to the top of her hips.” Once again there were none of the loving details a father would usually give about a daughter. No emotion showed, other than a tremendous anger over her disappearance. He reflected no deep concern.

  “What color are her eyes?” Raj struggled to keep his own emotions under control and to show no reaction to Brac’s statements. Was he being unfair, did his distaste for the man color his perceptions? Probably not, but striking out in anger at Brac’s unfeeling attitude would get him taken off the job.

  Brac hesitated, and thought carefully for a minon before answering, “Her eyes are hazel-colored and her skin is light red,” he finally stated.

  Interesting. Raj noted that it was obviously not a close family if the father couldn’t immediately remember his daughter’s eye color. He wondered at her skin coloring, Brac’s was a pasty white. Maybe his Life Companion had the red skin tone or, perhaps, Ahnika was adopted.
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br />   The man was lying about something…probably several things. Raj sensed the deceit settle around him, coating the air with its black feel until he could almost taste the untruths. It was clear Brac hadn’t researched Raj’s talents. If he had, he would have known that, besides Hunter abilities, Raj was able to detect dishonesty. Raj chastised himself for not looking into Brac’s past in more depth. Raj hadn’t done enough preliminary investigation on this job. He couldn’t tell in specific detail what Brac was being dishonest about, he couldn’t divine the truth, but almost every word coming out of his mouth was tainted with lies. What is going on in this place?

  I may be the best Hunter on Zylar, Raj thought to himself, but I’ll bet no one told Brac that I’m also the most ethical He often offered his services at no charge, simply in a need to help people. Just as there had been times when he’d refused a mission and the individuals would cry out in supplication and he’d hear them in his sleep. So he ended up helping them anyway. Raj knew his ties to this girl, Ahnika, were already formed, no matter what the father said. The battery of negativity and helplessness surrounding Brac’s home, the shadowed hint of deceit and unanswered questions, ensured his involvement. He was going to help her—it just may not be in the way Brac wanted or imagined it would be. If the girl had a compelling reason for leaving, he would find her and, instead of bringing her back to her father, he would make sure she was able to stay out of his reach.

  “I’ll need to go to where she was last seen. When tracking someone, it is imperative I start from the last place the person was known to be. Will you take me to the bathing pool from where she disappeared?”

  “Is that really necessary?”

  “It depends on how quickly you want me to find her.” Brac was clearly unhappy with this request and Raj was having a hard time pretending he believed even a small portion of the man’s story.