Banished (Street Rats of Aramoor: Book 1) Page 2

  “The punishment has been set at ten lashes for cheating, and another ten for the lying.”

  There were a few gasps. Hushed whispers sifted their way through the crowd. I got the feeling that those watching felt the punishment rather severe, but none would ever voice that opinion, at least not loud enough for the Primary to hear.

  “Dorin, you may begin,” Brim said.

  I glanced to the left. My father was pushing his way to the front. Most were quick to make room when they saw who it was. My older sister, Rianna, was there beside him, as well as my younger brother Jorn. There was rage in my father’s eyes. I shook my head to let him know not to interfere. My sister had tears running down both cheeks. Like our mother, she had a tender heart. She had spent two days weeping in her room after our father had killed one of the cave lizards she had rescued when it ran across the dinner table and tried helping itself to a piece of meat from his plate. It had taken weeks for Rianna to finally forgive him.

  Jorn, on the other hand, had no tears to shed for his older brother. And unlike the anger in my father’s eyes, my brother’s gaze held only contempt. Being the youngest, he wanted nothing more than to be out from under my shadow. I was the one who always seemed capable of anything, the one who received the highest praise from our parents, the winner of every competition, the fighter who’d never been beaten. He had always been jealous of my abilities and it only seemed to get worse the older he got. The growing divide between us was definitely one of the worst downsides to having magic.

  A loud crack caught my attention. Dorin had finished his stretching and was now testing his whip. He swung the long cord over his head and then brought it back around with the snap of his wrist. The sound echoed off the surrounding buildings like a clap of thunder.

  The people standing closest moved back, nearly tripping over themselves as they attempted to get clear of Dorin’s aim. No one wanted to be standing anywhere near the open end of the lash.

  “That looks like it’s going to hurt,” a familiar voice said off to the right, causing my jaw to tighten even further. This time, I couldn’t ignore Flon. He had pushed his way to the front, opposite my family, not a few paces from where Dorin was standing. I was hoping a stray lash would catch him in the mouth, or maybe one of his eyes.

  Dorin took great pride in the dispensing of punishments. He also seemed to take a fair amount of pleasure in it as well. The enthusiasm on his face was revolting. The lanky instructor finished the last of his practice runs before moving in behind me. I was so busy focusing on keeping my legs from shaking that when he spoke, I almost yelped.

  “The more you jump, the worse it’ll be.” Dorin always said the same thing to his victims before he began. It was just another part of his ritual.

  My entire body was trembling. I took a step closer to the post and grabbed the extra slack in the chain with each hand and held tight. I made sure to keep my tongue from between my teeth. I’d heard tales of others who’d bitten clear through from the pain.

  I turned my head just in time to see Dorin fling the whip back over his head. I closed my eyes and tightened every muscle in my body. The whip struck. I felt it sear across my back, burning like a hot iron. I wanted to scream, but I held it in.

  “One!” Dorin called out, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  Again, the whip found its mark and I clung to the chains to keep my legs from giving way.

  “Two!”

  I could hear my sister whimpering off to my left. I was thankful my mother wasn’t there.

  “Three!”

  The pain ripped through my body and I found myself pressed against the post. The cold stone on my chest was no small relief. I gasped for breath. Each new lash ripped the air from my lungs.

  “Four!”

  “Five!”

  “Six!”

  Dorin continued to swing, showing no mercy. My knuckles were white, and my teeth ground under the strain of holding my mouth shut. I could feel warm blood running down my back. Small sprays had joined countless others in the mural at my feet.

  “Eight!”

  “Nine!”

  “Ten!”

  I tried desperately to focus my mind, a tactic we’d been taught in order to keep from breaking under torture. It didn’t work.

  There was a brief pause from the lashing. I tried to turn my head to see why, but my neck wouldn’t move. Tears were burning the corners of my eyes as I fought to hold them in.

  I could hear some whispers in the crowd. I wondered if the Pel’tok had decided to show lenience, but then Brim’s voice boomed above the crowd. “That was ten for cheating. Ten more to go.”

  My heart sank. It would have been easier had they never stopped. By now, I could have been half-way through the final ten instead of just getting ready to start. The familiar clap of thunder resounded and my back spasmed.

  “One!”

  One? Why couldn’t he have kept on at eleven? Now it feels like they’re starting all over again. I almost laughed at the absurd thought.

  “Two!”

  The pain was overwhelming. I couldn’t take it any longer. I wanted to give in. I wanted to beg for mercy. I might have recanted right there and told them whatever they wanted to hear if they’d been willing to stop.

  “Three!”

  My legs gave way. My hands slipped and I landed on my knees. My father started forward, but others in the crowd grabbed him and held him back. My sister had covered her face with her hands while my brother simply stared at the cobbles around his feet.

  “Four!”

  A yelp tried making a run for it, but I snatched it back before it could get away.

  “Five!”

  Another crack of the whip and my mind began to slip. I was growing dizzy. I could feel something cool against my face. I peeked through my lids and dimly realized I was pressed against the post. The rough stone rubbed my cheek.

  “Six!”

  I groaned. At least I think it was a groan. I wasn’t even sure I was the one who’d done it. I tried imagining it was Flon. That somehow Dorin had swung wide and the tip had caught him in the face.

  “Seven!”

  Dorin’s counting faded into the distance. I could no longer feel the pain. In fact, I couldn’t feel anything. It was a strange euphoric sensation, like when leaving one of the tunnels from the city to walk in the light above. Except, it was the opposite. I could see the light but it was growing more distant. I was being pulled further and further into darkness. Pretty soon it had completely enveloped me.

  I had no idea if Dorin ever finished his counting. The last thing I remembered was my mother’s gentle voice telling me to sleep.

  SOMETHING PULLED ME from the darkness. As my mind cleared, I wondered why I had even bothered to wake up. Gut-wrenching pain poured over me like liquid fire bubbling up from the deepest of the wind tunnel caverns. I closed my eyes and tried to find my way back to the darkness. It was peaceful there. No Pel’tok sentencing me to an undeserved punishment, no Dorin practicing his skills on my hide, no Flon mocking me as my skin is peeled from my back. I wanted to stay in the darkness and never return.

  “Ayrion? Are you awake?” My mother’s voice pulled me back from the precipice. “He’s waking up, Narris.”

  “Good. I was starting to worry. He’s been out for hours.”

  “He needs the rest.”

  “Yes, but if he hadn’t woken by this evening, I was going to pay Dorin a little visit tonight.”

  I didn’t need to ask what my father had meant by that.

  “Hush, Narris. The children could hear you.”

  My father grumbled something under his breath, but it was too soft for me to hear. It was clear I wasn’t going to be able to find my way back to the dusk of sleep, so I decided to step into the light. At least, as much light as one can find living underground.

  The amber glow of the lamp burning on the table beside my bed cast deep shadows across the faces of my parents, which were already haggard from worry. Like the rest of the Upaka, my parents had the same dark hair and fair skin. My father kept his short. He didn’t want to give an opponent something to grab on to. My mother would have probably preferred to do the same, but she knew how much my father liked her longer curls. My father was shorter than most Upakan men, something he said was a benefit when having to sneak in and out of places while fulfilling his contracts. My mother, on the other hand, was taller than average. She stood eye to eye with my father, which she said made kissing him much easier.

  “There he is,” my father said, laying an encouraging hand on my shoulder. “There’s my little warrior.”

  I wanted to smile, but it came out more of a wince than anything.

  “No one has ever stood before Dorin’s whip like that before. I’ve seen grown men weep under the lash. But not my son. No, they couldn’t break my Ayrion.” My father leaned in a little closer. “You should have seen the look on Brim’s face. I’ve never seen him look so disappointed.” He laughed and then rubbed the top of my head. “I couldn’t be prouder of you, son.”

  “You need to stop using your abilities during training.” My mother’s words were harsh, but the look on her face let me know they were given out of sincere concern. “Using magic only draws attention.”

  I took a breath, but the pain from the wounds in my back nearly snatched it away. “I have these gifts for a reason,” I said, my voice weaker than I had anticipated. “I shouldn’t have to hide them.”

  “Perhaps not. But what should be, and what is, are two very different things.

  “Your mother’s right. You’ve got to be more careful. If the clan were to ever discover that your rapid advancement was due to magic and not cheating, things would be a whole lot worse for all of us.”

  Everyone kn
ew what happened to those with magic. The White Tower came for them. Those that were taken were never heard from again.

  I tried rolling to my side and received a lash of searing pain for my effort. “I suppressed my magic during the whipping.”

  My mother nodded. “I wondered.”

  “Wondered what?”

  “Your grandfather used to speak of how the magic affected him. He said he was able to turn it on and off at will.”

  I sighed with a wince. “The last thing I wanted was to see the lashes coming and not be able to stop them. It was easier not knowing.”

  I was the only one in my family who had magic. It had skipped a generation from my grandfather to me. None of my siblings had it, at least not yet. My mother said that magic sometimes took longer to manifest in some than others. My grandfather had the gift of pre-sight. But unlike me, he only had the one gift.

  Being able to see things before they happen is usually a good thing, except when you’re tied to a stake and publicly beaten. I wasn’t a seer. I couldn’t predict future events or anything, it only worked on the immediate. I would have visions, each giving me a few seconds warning when something was going to affect me in a physical way.

  My second gift was just as useful. My mother said I was a repeater. The name sounded silly to me. It was a type of muscle memory. It allowed my body to learn things much faster than anyone else. For most, it took years of training and repetition to master the elements of our fighting techniques, but with my gift, it only required me to perform something once and my body could repeat it immediately.

  Even more unusual than possessing not one but two gifts of magic was that I could use the magic freely without the aid of a transferal crystal.

  Our histories said that those with magic were only able to use it when in direct contact with one of the crystals brought over during the age when the Fae had broken into our realm. We had never known of magic before the coming of the faerie, but after centuries of them ruling over us, magic began seeping into the population. Pretty soon we found ourselves born with gifts that rivaled our oppressors. And the transferal crystals allowed us to tap into that power.

  As magic grew, we rebelled and the first Wizard Order was formed. They eventually drove the faeries back into their own realm and sealed the breach, but many of their crystals had been left behind. It was those little pieces of their homeland that allowed humans born with magic to tap into their newly acquired power.

  My parents had warned me not to use my gifts. They told me to let the other trainees win on occasion so I didn’t stick out so much. I didn’t see the point. I was already disliked by the other kids, so I wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction of beating me. If I was going to be shunned, then it might as well be for good reason. After today, I was starting to think that maybe they had been right after all.

  My mother gently rubbed my cheek. “Get some rest, Ayrion. You need to heal. I’ll check in on you later.”

  My parents stood and walked to the door. I closed my eyes and listened to the latch fall back into place behind them. It didn’t take long before the darkness overtook me and I floated away into peaceful silence once more.

  The days passed slowly and painfully as I started my long journey back to recovery. Rianna spent a great deal of time reading to me as I dozed off and on. I wasn’t sure if Jorn made an appearance. If he had, it must have been when I was dozing.

  My mother washed my wounds every day, and father coated my back with a special herbal salve, a secret recipe passed down through his family that was said to speed healing. It seemed to be working. By the end of the first week, I was out of bed and moving around the house. By the end of the next, I was walking down through the tunnels to my favorite spot at the bottom of Triple Falls.

  The pain was still there, but not at the intensity it had been the first week. I could feel my body gaining strength. The wounds had all but sealed and the itchy scabs were driving me crazy. Pretty soon, even they would be a distant memory, a stern reminder to keep away from magic, at least in public.

  I exited the tunnel to the thunderous sound of water pouring down three sides of a hundred-foot ledge of granite, forming pools at the bottom. The large pools at the base spilled over into smaller ones, forming a maze of tiny lakes.

  I doused my torch. Anywhere else within the wind tunnels, I would have been left in darkness, but the pools were home to a type of algae that produced a soft bluish glow. The water was so clear that the bottom looked as if it were just below the surface, close enough to touch. In reality, it would have taken a deep breath and a strong pair of arms and legs to make it down and back.

  The pools were warm, perfect for swimming. I stripped down to my underpants and carefully slid off the shelf and into one of the smaller pools further from the falls. Normally, I would have climbed higher and dove in, but I would have probably ripped open my back if I had, and then mother would have given me a harsh scolding—which I would rather avoid—when I got home.

  The water felt wonderful. I paddled around for a while before finally turning over on my back to float.

  “There you are!”

  I opened my eyes and twisted my head around. My sister was walking across the rock to my pool. She opened the front of her lantern and blew out the wick.

  “I thought I’d find you here.”

  I relaxed and lowered my head back in the water and continued to float. “It’s quiet down here.”

  Rianna turned to look at the falls. “Quiet isn’t exactly the word I’d use for it.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She sat down on the edge of the pool and rolled up her trousers past the knee, letting her legs dangle in the water.

  My sister was sixteen, three years older than I was. Like most of the Upaka, she had the same dark hair and fair skin. I thought she was very pretty for a girl, but so far she hadn’t been chosen by any of the other boys for Mal’jinto. I had a feeling I was partially to blame for her lack of suitors. Very few people wanted to be associated with our family. She seemed to want to spend more of her time with me and Jorn than with the kids her age.

  “How’s the back?”

  “Healing.”

  Rianna was unusually quiet. “That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to watch,” she said finally.

  I used my hands to rotate my body in the water so I could see her. “If it makes you feel any better, it was hard for me as well.”

  She splashed me with her foot. “Hey, I’m being serious.”

  “Me too.” I floated for a while without saying anything. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the trouble I’d been in over the last couple of years and wondered if Brim was right, that the problem was me. “Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be better if I just left.”

  Rianna lowered her brows.

  “I can’t stop being who I am.”

  “No one’s asking you to.”

  “Everyone is. Mother even wants me to stop using magic so I’ll fit in.” I hit the top of the water with my palm and watched the ripples spread outward. “I’d like to say that I wished I’d never been born with magic, but the truth is . . . I can’t. It’s a part of me. I can’t just ignore it and hope it goes away.”

  Rianna sighed. “I know it’s hard. But you have to realize you’re not the only one affected by it. We all are. Most of the other ladies won’t talk to Mother any more. And Father’s contracts, if you haven’t noticed, are getting smaller every year. And Jorn . . . Well, he’s ten. He just wants attention—”

  “And most of it seems to be heaped on me, I know.”

  Rianna nodded. There was another moment of silence as we listened to the droning sound of the water beating against the granite floor of the enormous cavern.

  “Anyway, I just thought you should know.”

  She was right. I could see the burden my gifts placed on my family. Would it really hurt me to try being a little more careful? “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Rianna smiled. “Good. Can’t ask for more than that.”

  “Hey! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming down here? I wanted to come.” Jorn stood just inside the mouth of the tunnel on the left, his torch revealing the deep-seated scowl on his face.

  “Come on in,” I said, waving him over. “The water’s warm.”

  “I can’t. Father told me to come get you. He has news.”