Change of Darkness Page 6

  As the members of Siray’s unit made their way over to her, she watched Wexner sneak around the other captives who were watching the males brawl and casually slide up to the other side of the barrels. For a moment, Siray lost him in the general confusion, but when she saw him again, his glistening torso was bare as he reached into the barrels.

  The surprising thing was, half of the captives watching the fight, most of them female, instantly switched their gazes to him. Yet none of them cried out, probably, Siray guessed, because all those eyes were glued to toned muscles flecked with sweat. And a little blood.

  Wexner used the valuable moment to repeat Siray’s trick, and he had filled his shirt before one of the female captives came to their senses and gave a shout.

  Siray, now having been joined by Genlie, Kovi, Baindan, and Zale, watched as Wexner hurriedly shoved a few more portions into his makeshift bag before sprinting out from behind the barrels in the direction of Siray and the others, Loce, Tamot, and Kinna following.

  A moment later, the fifth member of their unit, a female named Annbov, followed.

  The other fifty captives didn’t waste a moment more, but all began pushing and shoving to gain access to the remaining food in the barrel.

  Puffing hard as he came to stand beside Siray in the middle of their group, now ten strong, Wexner managed to get out, ‘There really wasn’t that much food in there.’

  Siray shook her head. ‘No. I think they planned it that way.’ She motioned to the others, and they all began to back away slowly across the sands towards one of the six walls lining the edges of the arena, their faces towards the mass of captives grouped around the barrels.

  They were aware of the exact instant the food barrel was emptied, as groans and curses from the captives who hadn’t managed to grab anything began to rise.

  Then, one by one, numerous pairs of seeking eyes began to turn in the direction of Siray and Wexner.

  One particularly large male forced his way to the front of the pack of captives who had missed out on a portion, and he stood there, glaring across the space at Siray.

  She returned his gaze coolly, tall and defiant, daring him to come after her.

  The male took a step forward—possibly the first step that would bring an avalanche of hungry captives down upon the ten of them.

  But Baindan stepped forwards also, placing himself in front of Siray, his movement challenging the male who eyed him with consideration.

  Then Zale stepped forwards, and in synchronisation, Tamot, Loce, Kovi, Kinna, and Genlie fanned out as well. Yes, they faced a mass of hungry and determined individuals, but that’s still what they all were—individuals, against a united front ready to defend their own.

  And this would have to be the way of it, Siray knew, to be prepared to fight former allies in order to stay alive.

  The shoulders of the male who had been preparing to challenge them sunk as he took them all in and discerned what he would be up against. Then he turned and disappeared into the milling captives, the other individuals around him also dispersing.

  Siray could have sunk to the ground in relief, but she held herself firmly upright, knowing that there might be more eyes on them, watching for a point of weakness.

  By silent arrangement, Baindan kept watch on the other captives while Siray held out her shirt to the others in her unit. One by one, Zale, Genlie, and finally Kovi each took a portion for themselves.

  Bedside her, Wexner was doing the same.

  When there was only two portions of food left, one in her shirt and one in her hand, Siray walked past the others to where Baindan was standing. She pressed his portion silently into his hand.

  ‘Thanks,’ he murmured, his eyes not shifting from the other captives.

  Siray scrutinised them as well. Saw the ones who were eating and those who were sitting silently empty-handed. Who also watched.

  ‘They’re not desperate enough yet,’ Baindan murmured.

  Siray knew what Baindan meant. That the hunger of those who had missed out wasn’t yet strong enough to force them to challenge a bigger group.

  ‘Will it come to that?’

  He gave the smallest of shrugs. ‘It might, but not if the Faction really wants to keep us strong.’

  Siray watched from the corner of her eye as Baindan shifted on his feet slightly, her eyebrows narrowing as she spied him stiffening slightly as his back protested against the movement. She didn’t remark on it—all of them were in pain. It was just too bad that they—

  ‘Hah!’ She shook her head. Then she closed her eyes and giggled. When she opened them again, she saw Baindan looking at her with concern.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asked carefully.

  Siray shook her head, laughing. How stupid they were. ‘No, but I’ll be much better soon.’

  ‘What?’ Baindan said, confused.

  She didn’t explain any further but hurriedly crammed the rest of her meal into her mouth.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHEWING SPEEDILY WITHOUT savouring the spices in the meat, Siray took a long, smooth step away from Baindan and the others.

  Her actions drew the attention of Genlie and Zale, who also turned to look at her.

  Baindan’s brows were furrowed. ‘Siray, what—’

  She held out a hand towards him, halting any movement he might make towards her. Wouldn’t do to have him too close. Then she closed her eyes and focused inwards on that sphere of power within herself that she knew so well. Focused carefully on one glowing chain of energy in particular.

  ‘Siray! What are you doing?’ Baindan’s whisper was fierce but quiet, as if his hushed words might help her go unnoticed by the hidden eyes she was sure were even now watching them.

  As if the form she had Changed into could be missed.

  As Siray opened her now much larger eyes, her gaze was met by expressions of disbelief from her friends. They obviously thought she had lost her mind, drawing attention to herself like this.

  Turning her head slightly, she saw the other captives had all noticed her new form, their expressions a mix of surprise, smugness, and even envy.

  Siray swivelled her big head back to her friends, knowing what they would be seeing. What they were thinking. A yeibon, its coat a brilliant warm red brown that contrasted sharply with the whiteness of the sand, its splayed horns sharp, and its strong body standing above the height of most of their shoulders.

  Definitely not a form that could be missed.

  Baindan’s mouth was still hanging open, and Siray laughed to herself, her mirth coming out in a brisk snort. Lowering her head a little to look Baindan carefully in the eyes, Siray gave him a slow, deliberate wink.

  Right before she carefully turned on the spot to show them her back. She even reared up a little to emphasise her point.

  ‘Huh. Of course. I should have thought of that.’ Baindan’s tone was both appreciative and annoyed—although Siray was pretty sure she knew which aspect applied to her.

  Bringing her front feet back down to the sand, she pivoted again, bobbing her head as Baindan looked up at her, a grin forming on his face. Then he, too, took a long step away from the others. And another.

  An instant later, a solid six-footed grey-green rilander stood in his place. A large creature, much bigger than Siray’s yeibon form, the rilander was a passive grazer that loved to tip trees—both to eat and use them to scratch its back.

  Siray felt a soft hand on her broad back, and she stretched her neck around to see fair-haired Genlie by her side, scrutinising her from her withers to her croup.

  ‘There’s already a difference,’ Genie murmured. Then she shook her head as she removed her hand. ‘It won’t work in my form, though. Too small.’

  That’s right, Siray remembered. Genlie’s form was an oxy—a small, double-tailed scrounger, whose head came up no higher than Siray’s knees when she was in her normal form. An oxy form was useful in many ways to the Resistance, but its small size could not promote faster healing.
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br />   The same went for Loce and, apparently, Kinna, who also didn’t Change, but who desperately looked like she wished to, especially when the female eyed her palms and clothes, which were still smeared with blood.

  But Wexner, Kovi, and Tamot all Changed.

  As a cripwof, Kovi lazily stretched out his front legs, his jaw yawning wide to expose his sharp teeth for a moment.

  Wexner, now a massive bullide, merely shook his shoulders out, the large muscles in his front legs and back rippling as the laceration across them became merely bothersome rather than painful.

  Tamot became Siray’s almost twin, and he playfully walked up to brush shoulders with her, his black coat, curving horns, and slightly larger height the only visible differences between them.

  Siray nudged him back, grateful that his spirits had picked up a little. Probably the effect of the yeibon instincts dulling the sharp edge of his emotions.

  Loce had sidled closer to Kinna, his dark eyes focused downwards as he fidgeted, and was asking, ‘What’s your form?’

  Kinna smiled shyly, despite the pain she still had to be feeling, and said, ‘Nowri. You?’

  ‘Quison,’ came Loce’s quiet reply.

  Siray monitored the halting conversation closely, intrigued. So Kinna was a nowri … perfectly fitting with her sweet nature. An animal that loved water, nowri were known for the sphere-shaped habitations they built alongside lake edges. Extremely loyal to their chosen partner, the small animals were tolerant of their animal neighbours but avoided contact with Kaslonians.

  As she swivelled her head again, Siray saw Zale. He wasn’t looking in her direction but at the ground, his eyes closed, his form wavering. Curious to see his fiorify form once more, she watched as his muscles rippled and enlarged. Watched as his back arched, his head moving closer to the ground as he landed on what were now his front feet. Saw the golden haze break out across his four-legged body before he sprouted feathers and his large wings unfolded.

  His intelligent head wheeled her way, and Siray could have sworn that the beak of his mouth opened just slightly as those glowing golden eyes met hers.

  She looked away again, thanking the Mother that yeibons couldn’t blush.

  Soon, the idea that they could Change—that they had been ordered to rest and recover—spread amongst the other captives, and soon about half of them had done so, leaving a mix of middling to large beasts spread across the sands, with other captives in normal forms interspersed amongst them. There were several large, placid beasts, the kind that grazed in large herds together on the plains, and there were a few predators mixed in as well—each of which was keeping a close eye on the others.

  And there was one small creature … twisting in agony on the ground.

  Siray felt the food she had just eaten stir inside her as all the captives stilled—both those who had Changed and those still in their normal forms. Her enhanced hearing pained her now, as with her sensitive ears, she could hear every cry and moan made by the suffering animal.

  From beside her, Genlie murmured, ‘They tried to Change to take the pain away.’

  Sudden movement in the stillness brought Siray’s head up higher.

  Herrin’s square form was striding purposefully across the sand towards the distressed creature.

  Siray’s instincts flared, and she fought the urge to stamp her feet. But she couldn’t control her ear flicks nor the widening of her nostrils, all of which Genlie saw.

  Genlie angled her head slightly, her eyes searching. ‘Oh, no,’ she breathed, also identifying the threat.

  Siray felt a warm hand on her neck and knew Genlie was trying to comfort both of them for what was about to come.

  On her other side, Siray felt something tremble, and breathing in, she smelled Tamot’s grim anticipation and anxiousness as he also spotted Herrin’s approach. She flicked her tail at him, a subtle reminder to calm down and retain his sense.

  Captives in Herrin’s path quickly stepped aside, scattering like clouds before a strong wind, and Siray grew angry at them all, at their meekness and lack of will to stand against him. Her nostrils flared again, and she shifted her feet, the fiery yeibon side of her nature urging her to do something.

  A sharp slap of hair against her rump distracted her for a moment, and she turned her head to the side.

  Tamot’s big, dark eyes stared into hers, chiding her. His was an echo of her own earlier warning, and she snorted quietly in acknowledgment, then turned back to watch as Herrin bore down on the small creature still struggling in the sand.

  ‘So much noise from such a small animal.’ The trainer came to a sudden stop a pace away from the twisting animal, and Siray began mentally urging whomever it was to Change back.

  Herrin tilted his shaved head, the slight motion an ominous sign. ‘It seems that while most of you had the sense only to Change if your other forms were large enough, one of you did not.’

  The stillness amongst the captives grew more tense, the air seeming to thicken with it.

  ‘I have no use for soldiers who don’t use logic or who can’t handle a little pain,’ continued Herrin. ‘Change now.’ An order.

  Siray held her breath, praying for the Mother to give the male or female strength. She knew how hard it could be to gather the will to Change when the physical body was in such pain. Knew that it took more than just will—something else had to compel you.

  The memory of Deson then was so strong that Siray couldn’t stop the tremble from going through her. She remembered his smell, his eyes. Those dark-brown eyes that had pleaded with her to Change. And those same eyes, staring vacantly up at the ceiling of a cavern, as an emptiness roared inside her—

  ‘Well,’ Herrin was saying, ‘if you can’t Change back, then you’re of no further use to us.’

  The trainer was reaching for something at his side as he spoke, and as the memory of Deson consumed her, Siray reared, whinnying.

  None of the others were fast enough to stop her as she leapt forwards, galloping across the sand towards Herrin, white grains spraying up in her wake.

  Shock was written across the faces of all the captives who observed her speedy approach, and Siray snorted explosively as she neared the edges of the group, the sound quickly scaring both captives and animals from her path.

  Herrin had turned his head slightly, and Siray saw his feet shift just noticeably in the sand as he watched her draw closer.

  She slowed, now that she had drawn his attention away from the struggling animal at his feet, and Changed.

  In her normal form once more, Siray found that the pain in her back from the lashing had reduced from what it had been prior to taking her yeibon form. Now, it was bearable. That such a small amount of time in a larger form had helped still amazed her.

  She focused on the trainer before her. ‘Master, let me try.’

  Herrin turned fully, his blue-grey eyes assessing her. ‘The red yeibon. Strong-willed, fiery.’ He smirked, a predator deigning to let its prey dangle before it a moment longer. ‘A leader.’

  So she had guessed right. They had been watching the captives the entire time. Watched Siray make the others aware that they had no reason not to Change.

  Herrin’s gaze held hers, and Siray fought to keep both her face and body still. To look interested in the response to the request she had made but to show no concern for the animal still thrashing about in agony, crying out in the stillness.

  The sun bore down through the curving roof above before mirroring off the sandy floor of the arena, and Siray worked hard to pretend indifference as she felt a drop of sweat wind its way painfully down over the torn skin of her back.

  To convey nothing to those eyes that saw so much.

  Because if Herrin glimpsed any emotion in her, knew how much rescuing this strange captive meant to her right now when the ghost of Deson still threatened to emerge from her memory, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill it.

  ‘Try.’ A single word of challenge—the threat behind it clear.

/>   Siray fought against the rising shred of doubt and, instead, still affecting the same indifferent curiosity, stepped around the trainer to reach the squirming form on the ground. The animal was small—a cousin to Loce’s quison, maybe, but not something that Siray could name at this moment.

  Still emitting little squeals, the animal curled and uncurled, pain making its torn back muscles visibly spasm.

  Hidden from Herrin, Siray’s face grew grim as she realised the situation was even more desperate than she had guessed. But she was already committed.

  Her own back aching, she sunk to her knees before the animal. ‘My name is Siray,’ she told it, feeling all eyes on her. ‘And you need to listen to me.’

  The animal chose that moment to let out a piercing cry of pain, and Siray almost shook her head. It was possible the captive was already too far gone into the creature’s consciousness. She pressed her lips together. Death literally stood right behind her, ready to collect a soul if she failed. Or worse, the captive might lose themselves completely.

  Insane cackling echoed in Siray’s mind, and leaning in closer to the animal in a burst of purpose, she grabbed the furry little head, forcibly turning it towards her even as the little creature continued to buck and twist, in danger of snapping its own neck.

  But Siray refused to give up and held its gaze with her own as she leaned closer still, ignoring the small clawing limbs that were drawing thin lines of red along the skin of her arms and chest.

  That close, Siray could speak in a whisper so only she and the animal she now held before her could hear. So she talked.

  Two sentences, quick and urgent. Then she placed the animal back down on the ground and backed away a step, hands limp by her sides.

  There was nothing more she could do.

  ‘Well, I guess I have another failure on my hands,’ Herrin said from behind her.

  Siray glanced at the trainer but didn’t have to work hard this time to keep her face neutral. She had done the right thing in attempting to save the life before her. Knew that whatever might be in her future, she could think about this one small thing and know that she had tried.