The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (187 page)

She had also started drinking human blood.

“You can make them forget,” Aday whispered to her one night, months ago.

“What?”

“Do you remember the human you killed? So long ago, before Kuluun put you in the earth. Do you remember?”

How did Aday know about that? Saraal had never told her. She avoided the memory, instinctively shying away from something that had felt so good, then gone so wrong.

“I don’t—”

“You can force your will on them. The humans.” Aday slid closer as they sat beside the cooking fire. “You’ve seen Kuluun do it. Suk does it all the time. You have only to touch them, and you can control them, my girl.”

She remembered. She remembered the human falling silent. She’d thought it, then he had done it. She’d felt the trickle of energy leave her and go into him. The same pricking heat that ran over her skin now when the wind stroked her.

It had woken after Odval, like a long-forgotten friend. After she’d taken his blood, the wind came to her more. It wrapped around her and held her. She had only to stand in its bracing power to feel her body strengthen. At one point, she’d even experimented with hovering off the ground. But as time passed, her new friend grew quieter. She could no longer hover.

Saraal was not surprised by this. She had become accustomed to disappointment.

“You must drink from the humans to be strong. Then the wind will be at your command, as it is for Kuluun.”

“How do you know?” Saraal asked.

“I know.” Aday’s grey eyes were lit with mischief. “And you do, too.”

She did.

Saraal tilted her head and listened to the camp. It was a relatively quiet night. A few women were busy around the cooking fire, and the others were entertaining the Sida.

“That one,” Aday whispered, nudging Saraal’s side. “Drink from that one.”

‘That one’ was a fat old human Kuluun had decided to spoil. She must have been someone important in her village because she had immediately began ordering the other women around once she’d been captured. Kuluun doted on her as if she was one of the wild dog puppies that followed their wandering tribe. She slapped and intimidated the other women into doing what she wanted. She ignored Saraal.

“I don’t think she would taste very good,” Saraal said with a shrug. “She has to taste dirty since she fucks Kuluun and seems to like it.”

Aday rolled on the ground with laughter, but still managed to say, “Just look at her, though. So fat. He gives her the best meat. She has plenty of blood to spare.”

The woman walked past her, carrying a bowl of stew. No doubt she was heading toward Kuluun. Though Saraal and the other Sida didn’t need food to survive—she’d learned that when she was in the earth and given nothing more than pony blood—they did eat some. An empty stomach triggered the same pains in a Sida belly as a human one. Luckily, a small meal lasted long in their stomach; Saraal relieved herself only rarely.

But she enjoyed food, and she wanted some of the stew. More, she wanted some of Kuluun’s woman’s blood. Aday was right; it would be rich. The woman was plump with life, like the berries she remembered once grew along the riverbanks near her village. In the summer, they swelled fat and red like the woman’s cheeks.

Saraal caught the woman’s eyes and held out a hand. Sneering, the woman came closer.

“What do you want, Saraal?” The human knew not to ignore her completely, as Saraal suspected everyone knew what had really happened to Odval.

She held out a hand, and the human huffed out a sigh. “This is for Kuluun. Tell one of the others to get a bowl for you.” Then she curled her lip. “I’ll allow it, even though it is my own meal.”

“She eats the meat of a razed village and boasts,” Aday said. “Maybe you
should
kill her.”

Saraal shook her head, the ghost of a smile turning up her mouth.

The human’s eyes widened and she stepped back, but Saraal was too fast.

One touch.

That was all it took, and she felt the faint energy leave the tips of her fingers, which were banded around the woman’s wrist. The energy wound up the arm, the neck, until it grasped the woman’s mind like a viper and sank its teeth to hold on.

“Should I tell her to come back?” Saraal asked Aday.

“No. He will know you hold her mind. Do it now.”

Bend down and give me your neck.

“Wait. Take her behind the tent,” Aday said softly. “You don’t want the others to tell Kuluun.”

Saraal stood and took the woman to an empty tent. Then she gave the command again.

Give me your neck.

Wordlessly, she tilted her head back and Saraal felt her fangs grow long. They pricked her own tongue before she folded herself down and sank her teeth into the soft neck of the human.

Bliss.

It wasn’t as sweet as Odval’s blood, nor as rich, but the human’s blood was pure and clear, like water from a spring stream. She drank in, not thinking until she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Aday.

“Not too much,” she whispered. “Now heal her neck and tell her to forget.”

“How do I heal—”

“Think, Saraal. What heals you if you have a cut?”

Her own blood. It was something she’d learned accidentally after Kuluun had beaten her bloody. The areas where her blood trickled into her wounds closed faster. Saraal pricked her finger with a fang and spread the red blood over the bite marks in the human’s neck.

Within minutes, they were closed.

“Now, tell her to forget.” Aday’s voice sounded bossy to her ears.

Saraal stood up and met her eyes. “I know what to do, Aday.”

“Do you?”

She glared at Aday and turned to the woman, tugging on the thread that connected them.

Forget this. Forget the tent. Forget my bite. You’re back at the cooking fire and taking a bowl of stew to Kuluun.

She thought that would work. If it didn’t, she’d find out soon enough.

The human ducked out of the tent and Saraal heard her scurry away. Her ears were open. Her eyes took in every corner of the dark tent, which belonged to one of Suk’s older children.

She inhaled deeply and escaped into the night.

“How do you feel?” Aday asked, as they walked along the dark edge of the camp.

“Good.”

“Only good?”

Saraal shrugged. “Good is enough.”

“No, it’s not.” Angry fire lit Aday’s eyes. “Good is never enough. Nothing is enough for you. This starts tonight.”

“What are you talking about?” Saraal was annoyed and wanted to remain unnoticed for a while. As much as the other Sida were avoiding her, she still didn’t want to court Kuluun’s wrath.

“What am I talking about?” Aday was grinning like a madwoman, her curling fangs and cloudy eyes alight with humor. “You’re walking on air now, my girl. And you’re not going to stop.”

“
I know… you’re… drinking… it!”
Each pause was punctuated by a fist as Kuluun straddled her, holding her to the ground as her ears rung and her eyes swam. “I saw you flying. I smell you on her!”

Flying was probably an exaggeration. The most she could do was hover. But Saraal had no doubt that Kuluun could smell her on his human, who became very affectionate when she was bitten. Who knew it could be a pleasurable experience for humans? Saraal found the touching distasteful. She only humored the woman because she enjoyed the blood. Unfortunately, it was the woman’s moan of pleasure that alerted Kuluun to Saraal’s drinking. Or at least, confirmed it. He’d grabbed her from her tent as she woke and taken her to his.

Kuluun’s fist caught Saraal under her ear, and she felt a trickle of blood leak out. She’d have to drink extra later. If she was still conscious.

But she wasn’t going to stop drinking.

“Ungrateful bitch! I should have killed you years ago.”

How was Kuluun still so strong? With all the children he’d sired, he should be weak. Saraal guessed it was a combination of brute force, blood gluttony, and pure hate. It occurred to Saraal that he was so enraged, he might actually kill her. If he took off her head…

“And if you think I don’t know what you did to—”

He broke off when he heard the sound of pony hooves in the distance. Saraal heard them, too. In fact, she’d heard them before Kuluun did.

Interesting.

The humans were in camp that night. They’d taken a village during the day, and they were enjoying the spoils that night. Cooking fires roasted fat spits of meat. Sida laughed and women cried. No one should be approaching the warriors’ camp that night. No one should have been coming that fast. No one—

Kuluun muttered a curse and stood. There were cries of surprise. Then cries of pain. Kuluun left the tent in a blur.

Saraal curled into herself and stared into the shadows. Aday came to rest beside her, stroking her back.

“Not long now.” She stroked Saraal’s messy cap of hair. “Soon, you’ll be strong enough to kill him.”

Saraal said nothing. Her mouth was swollen, but already healing. She felt two teeth come loose as the new ones grew in behind them. She’d lost so many teeth over the years from the brothers’ fists, she was surprised her body still produced them. Luckily, her fangs were rooted. She’d still be able to feed.

The sounds outside the tent were chaotic for a few minutes—ponies snorting, humans crying, grunts and the metallic clang of weapons. Then, it died down and there was silence.

“What is happening?” Saraal quietly asked.

“I don’t know.”

“That sounded like fighting.”

“It was. You should get up,” Aday said. “Leave.”

“I… I’m sore. I’ll just wait a few moments.”

“Leave, Saraal.”

Aday’s voice was growing panicked, but Saraal’s eyelids were starting to droop.

“In a minute. Promise…”

It happened occasionally. If she bled too much, her body would shut down and repair itself in sleep. She always woke the next day with barely a bruise, no matter how violent the beating. She could feel her tongue grow thick, her eyelids droop.

“Leave! Leave now!”

“Can’t. Can’t…” She remembered a rhyme her mother taught her. It was a playful song she was supposed to sing when she was hurt. To distract herself from the pain. So much pain…

“Saraal, you must get up. Wake up. Run now!”

She was drifting. She should get back to her tent. Back to safety…

“RUN!”

Why was Aday so loud?

Saraal gasped awake when someone grabbed her neck and pulled her up. Her eyes flew open at the clash of scents.

“What is this?” There was a commotion outside the tent, then the whole low structure was torn away and Saraal was tossed in the air.

Aday was screaming and flying in circles over her head. The playful creature was enraged.

“No!
No no no no no!
”

Saraal could do nothing, bloody and broken, she hadn’t had time to heal. Hadn’t had time to plan. She landed in a pair of burly arms. Who held her? She had no idea, though there was something oddly familiar about his scent.

“What is this creature?”

“We found her in your brother’s tent. She was talking to herself.”

“Why would a human…” There was a long pause, then whoever held her yanked her back by the hair. He cursed. “I thought it was a boy. She didn’t used to look like this.”

“What should we do with her, Temur?”

Silence. Saraal forced her eyes open, only to find herself looking into a pair of black eyes. Demon eyes. They flared red with fire.

But no…

No, it was only a reflection of the fire burning through the camp. She could smell the smoke. She blinked and her eyes cleared. The dark eyes still stared.

“She’s one of us. Sida.”

“A female?”

The man grunted. “Kuluun said he wanted a wife, as he’d had when he was human. A mate who would be like him.”

Saraal started to laugh. High, hysterical laughter burst from her bloody lips. Her belly shook with it. The pain tore through her, but she couldn’t stop laughing. The men kept talking over her laughter.

“What have they done to her?”

“A better question might be, what
haven’t
they done?”

One of them threw her over a shoulder and started walking. Saraal kept laughing as Aday flew behind, hovering and scowling at the two men as they talked.

“She’s mad.”

“Clearly.”

“Should we just kill her now? It would probably be a mercy.”

“No. She’s a child of Jun.”

“Directly sired?” Saraal stopped laughing at the surprise in the man’s voice. Was it so unusual for Jun to sire children?

“Yes. My father turned her himself.”

The other man let out what sounded like a curse, but in a language Saraal didn’t recognize.

“I know,” the man carrying Saraal said. “Kuluun has always been stupid.”

“What a waste.”

“Well…” The two men stopped at a tent. Saraal could see it through one swollen eye, which was also aching, trying to heal. The tent wasn’t like others she knew. It was round, stretched skins wrapped tightly around stakes driven into the ground. It was so tall that a man could walk upright under it. The roof was rapidly taking shape as humans bustled around, setting up camp in a familiar rhythm. The roof was made of more skins and blankets. Richly woven and heavy, they would keep out even the smallest sliver of light. The tent flap was thrown open and a human woman stepped out.

“Tend to her,” the man carrying her said. He stepped inside the tent and put Saraal on the ground. “Wash her and find some new clothes. She won’t need much to heal, just some blood. You or one of the girls may give it to her. She is a child of Jun.”

The human nodded with respect. “I will feed her my own blood, Master.”

Aday lay next to her and stroked her back. Saraal sighed and said, “Should I run now, Aday?”

“I don’t know.”

“Tell me if I need to, please. I’m going to sleep now.”

“Stay awake for a while longer. Feed from the woman, so you can be strong.”

“Should I kill her?”

“No.”

A pair of knees hit the floor in front of her face.

“Listen to me,” the dark-eyed Sida said. “I have let you shelter in my tent. My humans will feed you. You will not kill any of them. They are my property, not yours. Do you understand?”