BOOK TWO - promised series
Catherine's search for answers take a new turn as she fights her way through unknown territory. On the run, new hurdles are thrown her way that she needs to face.
When her unique gift to manipulate emotions goes haywire...
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Shyla, Tyler and Holden were rounded up. Debrova, for reasons unbeknownst to me, had packed various items for camping in human skin. Along with a lot of strange objects, thankfully, she also brought a few ropes. They were thick, sturdy ropes, apparently used normally to hoist people up steep structures such as rocky walls or even the sides of mountains. I suspected she'd purchased them in the human section—I'd never seen such peculiar equipment in my twenty-one winters of life. Although I couldn't imagine climbing up anything, at least they came in handy now.
All three of the traitors were unusually quiet and cooperative. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that the Thrakos brother's were huge beasts that were capable of breathing fire, or if they were simply smart enough not to resist because they were outnumbered either way.
Still, there was something strange in the pit of my stomach that didn't sit right.
I tried distracting myself by looking up into the clear sky. I missed seeing clouds. They formed such nice shapes and figures, always different to whomever saw them. The way they slowly moved across the surface of Espheros—they'd probably been across the world multiple times. I wondered what it was they'd seen. Was this a place forgotten by the races? Or had it simply not been found yet? Were there nicer places yet to be discovered, or only chaos and destruction?
When I glanced back at the trio, my mood dropped. Whatever the rest of Espheros looked like—they didn't deserve to see it. With their emotional signatures as gray as suffocating smoke, they would only tarnish the plate of colors I imagined would greet us. The smells, the accents, the people, the cultures. What they would bring was only treason. Disloyalty. Betrayal.
Sitting in a circle, back to back, all three traitors were patiently waiting. What they were waiting for, I wasn't sure. I turned towards them and tried to read Holden's facial expression, but he wasn't giving me much to go on. His edgy face was pale and motionless. His icy blue eyes stared out into nothing. The only sign of life Holden displayed was thumping his fingers against one of his knees he had pushed up to his chest. With the other arm he half hugged his legs. He reminded me of a little child, waiting impatiently for something, trying hard not to show it.
When Reagan moved, I steered my attention towards him and questioningly looked at him. He read my facial expression quickly, taking notice of how suspicious and worried I was about Holden's nervousness. I communicated with him without even really wanting to, and understood that he'd realized what I'd felt without him needing to do anything. It was a nonverbal message that just flowed from me, to him, without any conscious actions. It was strange but felt like the most natural thing at the same time.
My stomach suddenly went fuzzy and I wondered if I was hungry.
"Eek a patien par costh", Reagan said, looking to Dante. Glancing back, Dante nodded and straightened himself. I think he's waiting for someone.
