The Faarian Chronicles: Exile (22 page)

The haratchi were no longer the fluffy, voracious babies I’d
seen before. The birds were skinny now and tall, at least seven or eight feet
each. They had a flat beak stretched like a mask over the lower half of their
faces. Their bodies were pale from being underground so long, and their wings
seemed weak.

They poured out of the ground like giant bats in a bad
sci-fi movie, but only stayed aloft a few seconds before falling quickly to the
ground, going for the nearest food source. The warriors and Ahatu were ready,
elegant and graceful, their moves almost choreographed as they took the heads
of their enemies, one after another in a gritty, blood-spraying dance.

My fingers itched on the hilt of my scy, but I didn’t draw
it again. Instead, I watched the enemy and tried to learn the warriors’ moves.
Only Micha was alone, leaping into the air and ripping out haratchi throats
before they could even land. She seemed fierce and unstoppable, and every cell
in my body ached to join her in the fight.

At first, it seemed like the cats and their warriors had it
all under control, but the haratchi just kept pouring out of their cave. I
could see why they called it an eruption. Soon, untouched haratchi were
feasting on their fallen brethren, stretching their wings between gulps atop
growing piles of blue bodies. As I watched, they seemed to turn a deeper azure
in the suns’ rays.

On one hand, it was almost simpler to cut down the birds as
they focused on feeding. On the other, it was easy to lose track of them behind
and between the grisly piles. One bird seemed forgotten entirely as it finished
eating its fill of meat, turning its beady eyes toward us. It spread its wings
to take off. Micha spotted it and leapt, but instead of grabbing and rolling,
tearing and spraying, she seemed to change her mind mid-air. She looked at me
for a moment and seemed to say,
Here,
girl-child. Time to see what you can do.
And she let the haratchi go.

Chapter 26: First Kill Day

“Uh-oh!” Thal moaned. The twins and other newbie patrolees
had arrived at some point and were now watching the bird approach in horror.
They drew their scys, cursing under their breath.

My scy was already out – again – and I ignored the others
around me as the giant bird flew toward us and the cartful of vegetables. My
attention narrowed on the threat flying our way. It was full, iridescent blue
now, that same unnatural color of their eggs, and its black wings beat strongly
at the air.

WRONG! KILL! MINE!
some instinctive part of my brain yelled.

“Sunny, what are you doing?” I heard Thal hiss as if from a
great distance. “Get down! Let it have the vegetables.”

One of the twins grabbed my ankle and tried to pull me down
from my perch atop the tractor. She received a sharp kick in the face for her
trouble. I didn’t remember getting up there, but knew that this was exactly
where I needed to be.

Ignoring the others cursing me in hushed voices from the
ground, I crouched motionless behind the tractor’s control chair. I turned it
so my hands were atop the seat as I peered over its back.

Wait for it, wait for it,
instinct said. My haratchi was almost directly overhead when I leapt, using the
seat and back to launch myself into the air as the bird descended toward the
vegetable cart. I spun in mid-air and swung my scy, even as it saw me and gave
a ragged squawk. It tried to bring its wings down to fly upward again when my
blade caught it, not at its scrawny neck as I’d intended, but at chest height.
By then I was committed though, and had put my whole body into that leap and
spin. The result was a horrible, jarring crunch through wing and bone and flesh
before I fell back to land in a kneeling crouch on the ground amid a sprinkling
of dark, disgusting blood. The bird crashed into the dust with a
thump
.

I limped over to the still-twitching bird and found it dead
and steaming, the smell of blood and hot bird flesh making me heave and turn
away.

“Sunny, that was amazing!” Thal exclaimed, running to pound
my back as I tried not to lose my lunch.

“Be quiet!” I hissed at him. The last thing we needed were
more of those things coming over here.

“It’s over.” He waved at the eruption site. “Here,” Thal
handed me the link I’d apparently dropped. The warriors were coming over to us,
while the Ahatu cats remained and were eating their fill of fresh haratchi
meat. Ugh. I fought another wave of nausea.

The twins and the rest of the team came over more slowly,
looking warily at me.

“She phased,” I heard Otrere say to her sister. “Just a
little, but I swear she did.”

“Nah, not possible,” Lyta whispered back before turning to
me. “That’s some smell, huh, little cousin?” I nodded, my hand over nose and
mouth, and moved away from the stinking bird corpse.

Thal followed and gave an exasperated shake of his head, but
he was grinning. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

I shook my head and grinned back at him sheepishly. I had a
hard time believing it myself. My lame ankle hadn’t entered into my thoughts
once, but now that it was over I looked around to find my crutches.

“So, who did this?” Teague asked when the warriors arrived,
looking down at the dead haratchi.

“Sunny did,” Thal said. “It was amazing.” The rest of my
team made noises of agreement, along with a few grumbles that I’d taken a big
risk.

“Well, there are certainly more efficient ways to kill
haratchi,” Teague grunted prodding the dead bird with her boot and opening the
gaping chest wound even more. “Still, good job kid. Your first adult kill.”

Sarosh snapped a few pictures. “Your mom should see this.”

“If she’d done that the other night with that Anakharu, the
General would be seeing it in person,” Myrihn sniffed.

“Come on Myrihn, cut the kid some slack,” Thekla, one of the
older warriors said. “She did well for her first time. Reminds me of the
General’s first haratchi. Of course, she was quite a bit younger, but still,
congratulate the girl.”

“Oh, my mistake,” Myrihn simpered at me. “Congratulations,
you not only endangered yourself, but you also managed to destroy the entire
Etmar shipment at the same time,” she sneered, waving at the cart of vegetables
now dripping with sticky blood. “Good for you.” She stomped away.

I frowned down at my boots and started kicking a hole in the
dirt. Was nothing ever good enough for that woman? The fact that several of my
teammates, including Lyta and Otrere, followed Myrihn to start collecting and
burying the haratchi back in their underground den gave me a clue how many
others agreed with her.

“Hey,” Sarosh came up to me and chucked my shoulder while I
was busy studying the ground. “Don’t worry about Myrihn. We’ll be able to wash
most of the produce and use it at the compound. The rest we’ll compost. Nothing
goes to waste here, and Etmar will get their shipment tomorrow. I’ll have a
talk with our cousin and remind her of
her
first haratchi.” Sarosh
smiled and winked at me. “It came crashing down in the middle of Sumar’s
harvest day celebration.” The others laughed, a few clapping me on the back as
they passed to deal with the mounds of haratchi bodies.

Micha strutted past them to me, mentally singing Elton
John’s
Honky Cat,
her head swinging in funky circles with that ‘70s
beat. She looked very pleased with herself, still licking blood from her chops.
She sniffed the haratchi on the ground before coming up to me and nudging me
with her bulk.

Good job, girl-child. Your mother is proud of you, as
am I.

“Wait, can you talk with her, like instantly?” I asked.

We are always in touch,
she replied, still humming.

“Well, what’s happening? Why isn’t she back yet?”

Have faith, girl-child, and
bury your kill.
She turned and walked away.

“Have faith? What? That’s not even an answer! And what happens
when faith isn’t enough?” I called after her. “What happens when she needs
help? No one’s invincible, you know!”

She regarded me curiously over her shoulder and shook her
head as if the idea of my mother needing help was a foreign concept.
Bury your kill, girl-child,
she repeated and
walked off, no longer singing.

Chapter 27: Research

After the traditional burying of my haratchi (Thal cheated
and helped me with the, also traditional, manual digging) I found out that when
a trainee gets their first haratchi kill, they’re given the rest of the day
off, which was great because my ankle was really killing me again. If I wasn’t
careful, I was going to do long-term damage. I already hadn’t been able to
practice gymnastics on it since running from the now-dead Anakharu. People
would have to get used to seeing me walking the Kindred halls on my hands and
whatever else I could think of to work out one-legged. At least the bite on my
hand had healed cleanly to an ugly patch of pink scar tissue.

I had to wait for the others because I wasn’t supposed to go
off on my own, but I didn’t mind. It was hot out, as usual, but there was a
breeze and the suns felt nice, like I was soaking up their energy.

When I was sure they were all busy burying the mounds of
uneaten haratchi - what they weren’t taking back to feed the piranha - I called
John to find out what I could about the Molinidae justice system.

“Sunny, are you okay?” John asked right away as his little
two-inch hologram popped up from my link.

“Shhh!” I hissed. “Volume down.” I turned the tractor chair
away from everyone. If someone looked over, they could see I was still there,
but hopefully not what I was doing.

“Hey John. I’m fine, but people around here aren’t real
happy with me.”

“I saw what happened on the news. A rogue Afflicted attacked
you! They can’t think that was your fault?”

“No, but I should’ve been able to protect myself, and then
Mom was arrested for protecting me and no one seems to know what’s going on or
when she’ll be back.”

“Ah, so you’re linking me to see what I’ve heard.”

The phrase “linking me” still sounded stupid, but…. “Yeah,
basically.”

“Well, it’s not good. The news is saying she murdered your
attacker because she hates Afflicted people, not to save you.”

“But that’s ridiculous! The guy was about to bite me and
suck my blood!”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t help that she doesn’t allow the
Afflicted into your Kindred, or even to stay in Kindred territory. I know for a
fact that my family is some of the only Molinidae she allows to visit there.”

“But you’re not Anakharu!”

“No, but Sunny, the affliction is a Molinidae disease. All
Afflicted are Molinidae.”

“Oh.” I paused. “You couldn’t catch it, could you?”

“No.” He smiled. “I was born Molinidae. The affliction can
only happen to new converts.”

“Oh,” I repeated and digested that. Okay, so no
“converting,” check. Not that I knew what that meant.
Focus, Sunny.
“Anyway, what I can’t figure out
is who called the police. That doesn’t seem like something anyone around here
would do.”

“Um,” John cleared his throat. “Your attacker probably
called the police himself. In a way.”

“What? How is that possible?”

“Um, a lot of… Afflicted people… are able to communicate
telepathically,” he finished in a rush.

“What? So you’re saying he
mentally
contacted the
police?”

“Yes, and told them your mother was trying to kill him. Then
the police showed up and found him dead. Did anyone else have access to the
body?”

“Not that I saw. Micha was trying to get to him, jumping up
on the casket, but once it was opened she seemed disgusted and gave up.”

“Wait. Micha, she’s your mother’s Ahatu, right?”

I nodded. “I saw the whole thing through an upstairs window.
Micha was seriously peeved. Then one of the police opened the casket a bit and
put something shiny inside and then Micha just stopped and walked away. It was
the weirdest thing.”

“Did anyone else see this?”

“Other than the police? Not that I know of. Penthe came up a
few seconds later, checked the body and pronounced him dead.”

“Sunny, you need to talk to Micha. Can you do that?”

“Well yeah, I guess. She talked to me twice today, but she
kind of freaks me out. She’s so big and, you know, a tiger.”

“Get over it. She won’t hurt you, but you need to ask her if
the Anakharu was alive in the casket, in healing stasis.”

“Stasis?” I asked.

“Yes. If he were just badly injured he would have entered
stasis for his body to recuperate. He would have woken up again hours or maybe
a day later. You need to talk with Micha,” he repeated. “You two may be the
only ones who saw the actual murder.”

***

“But why?” Thal asked later, trying to keep his voice soft
as the Kindred filed into the Great Hall for dinner. “Why would the police want
to kill Drazen instead of arresting him?”

I shook my head. “The only thing I can think of is that the
boss Drazen mentioned paid them off to keep him from talking.”

“Hmmm. So what did Micha say?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to talk with her yet.”

Just then, Alten stood and called for everyone’s attention,
her big belly and maternity clothes looking out of place next to all the dusty
fatigues in the room.

“Considering everything that’s happened lately,” Alten said,
“Veridian’s first haratchi celebration will be postponed until the General
returns, tomorrow with any luck.” A palpable sense of relief swept the Great
Hall and the crowd cheered, but all I heard was that her return had been
delayed again. "Tomorrow, with any luck," was not reassuring. But I
was glad they weren’t celebrating my success without her. That would’ve felt
wrong.

“But please, let’s all congratulate Veridian on her first
adult haratchi kill. She showed courage and promise today and I’m sure the
General would approve of the Council’s decision to promote her to full
trainee.” Alten clapped and most of the crowd applauded again, led by the
people at my table and almost all the warriors.

Myrihn and Great-Aunt Nico’s table were noticeably silent.
Clearly I hadn’t won over everyone. Although I still wasn’t sure quite how I’d
done what I’d done. Instinct had taken over my brain.

“Usually,” Ethem’s voice made me look up to find him at my
elbow, “the person being honored gets to choose their favorite dish for dinner,
but since we were short on time and I don’t know how to make,” he consulted his
link and the text he and I had exchanged earlier, “veggie gyoza and spicy tofu,
I made your mother’s favorite instead.”

I looked skeptically at the large baking dish he held as he
whipped off the towel covering it with a flourish.

“Vegan lasagna!” he said. “She brought the recipe with her
back from Earth.”

“Really?” I gasped and clapped my hands, suddenly ravenous.
“Does it have cashew cheese?”

“Of course, what else?” he replied and squeaked with
surprise when I jumped up and hugged him.

“Thank you, Ethem.” I found I had to swallow the lump that
was suddenly in my throat. “A taste of home. That’s the nicest thing I can
imagine right now.”

“Well,” he said. Was it me, or did he have a little tear
there? “If you can teach me how to make your um, gyoza, we’ll have that after
your mother returns, yes?”

“That would be great.” I smiled at him, deciding that Ethem
wasn’t all
that
weird after all.

***

After dinner, I wanted to go back to my room to crash, but
Teague and Sarosh made me stick with them.

“Um, I’m just going to head back to the apartment and do
some of the reading I’m supposed to do. Don’t worry about me,” I told them.

Teague exchanged a look with Sarosh and shrugged. “We might
as well do it now then.”

“Do what now?” I asked.

“We’re moving you to a different room while your mother’s away.
Let’s go pack up your stuff.”

“Moving me? Why?”

“Because your mother sent us a text and asked us to,” Teague
replied in a tone that told me not to argue.

I sighed. “Fine,” I said, even though it wasn’t. Was that
really necessary?

They waited in the living room while I packed up my stuff
and helped me move it to an empty interior apartment. The new place was almost
identical to the old one, still sparsely furnished, but with a feel of disuse,
and no windows or fish tank. I tossed my stuff in the corner of my new room
before flopping down on the couch.

“I get the other bedroom,” Teague said.

“Fine,” Sarosh huffed. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Wait. Don’t you both have families or something?” I asked,
starting up the holo-internet on my link. Did I really need bodyguards inside
the compound?

“They’ll be fine. The General told us to stay with you,
we’re staying with you,” Teague growled in that same tone as before.

“I thought you were going to do your reading?” Sarosh asked
with one eyebrow raised as BLIN appeared and gave his customary address,
greeting each person in the room by name.

“I’m just looking something up first,” I replied, annoyed,
grabbed my link, and went into the windowless hole of a bedroom. Sheesh! This
thing didn’t play anything good anyway, and besides, it was easier for me to
have the reporters tell me about things than to read about them myself.

“Government approved garbage,” Teague grumbled, echoes of my
mother in her voice.

I rolled my eyes. Could I not get any privacy around here?

BLIN squawked, wavered, and generally acted like he was in
an earthquake until the link settled on top of the dresser. He straightened
himself out before asking his usual question: “What would you like to know
today?”

“Vampires,” I replied.

He seemed to think for a moment, searching his database. “Do
you mean the Anakharu of ancient legend…?”

I cut him off. “No. Current day.”

“Ah. Do you mean rogue Afflicted persons?”

“Yes, them.”

“Then based on your profile, the following has been
determined to be your best fit.”

“Fine, just play.” I briefly wondered what profile he could
have on me as BLIN faded out and was replaced by a news talk show desk that
looked to be copied directly from
The Daily Show
, complete with a
stylish middle-aged host behind the desk who reminded me of a female Jon
Stewart with long, surprisingly chestnut hair.

“And now, here to talk about her groundbreaking new book,
What’s
a Little Blood Among Friends?
please welcome a woman who holds my utmost
admiration, Founder and Director of The Macawan Foundation, Dr. Nereus
Souchie!” The audience applauded politely, and I was surprised to see the same
polished older woman who’d come to visit on my first day here stepping onto the
stage, her silvery green hair and silvery suit making her gleam under the lights.

“Welcome to the show,” the host said, standing to shake arms
before they both sat on either side of the desk. “Let me say, it is such an
honor to have you here Dr. Souchie. The Foundation does absolutely incredible
work to help people from all walks of life. Why, without you and The
Foundation, over half of us on this planet would literally not be alive today.”
She paused for the somewhat increased applause, expertly quieting the audience
before it could peter out into lameness.

“Just in case there are any young people in the audience who
don’t know this,” the host continued, “I’m talking of course about the fact
that you, as a young scientist, were the one who discovered how to duplicate
the chlorophyll mutation in people who hadn’t mutated naturally.

“You started up The Foundation to ensure that it was
available to everyone, not only the rich or privileged. And,” the host paused
for the ensuing cheers, louder than the previous polite patter, “you and your
husband, may he rest in peace, personally adopted or supported through
scholarships, countless young people orphaned by the oxygen deprivation
tragedy, a tradition that you carry on today. Kids who otherwise wouldn’t have
had a home or an education.

“Looking around the studio, a majority of us in one way or
another wouldn’t be here today without you. And I just want to say,” she all
but dove across the desk to grab the older woman’s hands with sincere, yet
comedic, enthusiasm, “thank you.”

The young audience, finally catching on to who this old woman
was being interviewed on their favorite show, burst into cheers and stomped
their approval for several minutes before the host could get them to quiet
down. The sage-haired scientist nodded graciously through the applause, smiling
and humbly thanking the crowd.

“Now, Dr. Souchie,” the host finally continued, “you’re out
on the forefront of the Anakharu equal rights movement, and I have to say, I
don’t quite see the connection. Saving lives to Anakharu rights. To ask a
potentially stupid question, what am I missing? How did you make that leap?”

The doctor laughed, looking completely at ease.

“It’s no leap at all,” she replied. “We are all connected
after all, and The Foundation’s mission is to make this world a better place to
live. So, first off, I need to correct a common misconception here. The proper
term for people with this disease is the Afflicted. The Anakharu were an
ancient Earthan myth about soulless, blood-drinking demons. So, the only
similarity between the Afflicted and that ancient myth is the need to drink a
bit of blood. Cloned or freely donated blood, I might add.” She took a pill
bottle out of her pocket and shook out two bright red horse pills and held them
up with a flourish. “Which now comes in convenient, on-the-go capsules.” She smiled
charmingly and the audience laughed for her. “Other than that, the
Afflicted
are just like you and me.”

“But, what about the stories about an… Afflicted person…
going crazy and attacking someone, here in Glass City say, and sucking their
blood out with pointy teeth?” Yeah! I wanted to yell. And what about the one
who attacked me?

“Well, I won’t claim that it’s never happened, but those
stories are greatly exaggerated. Afflicted people are still the same person
they were before the disease. They don’t want to bite another person any more
than you or I. The crazed state you describe is only possible if the person
goes off their hemoglobin supplementation program for a prolonged period of
time. And, even if that were the case, they will still not be drawn to
chlorophyll blood, which most of us have nowadays.