Epic: The Last Light

Chapter Fifteen

Mariana

Mariana lay on the bed, watching the dark sky through her window. Kai had been gone for hours, and her stomach knotted with worry. There was nothing she could do, but wait and believe that he would return. If he was caught, would they come for her next? Would Captain Reid deliver her safely to Valos and then leave her to. . .to what? She would be lost, helpless, alone.

She flung a pillow over her face. "Stop. Just stop. He will be fine. Kai won't abandon you," she mumbled into the pillow. Mariana pushed the poisonous thoughts away and focused on the gentle sway of the ship, the smell of the ocean, the taste of salt on her lips. Her mind settled, and soon sleep took her.

~ ~ ~

A floorboard squeaked under pressure. Mariana blinked awake and sat up. The cabin was a sea of black, so dark that the window glowed a midnight blue. She slid to the edge of the bed, her gaze roaming the darkness as her eyes slowly adjusted.

"Kai?" she whispered.

A shadow moved in the corner of her eye. She turned, standing to face the room.

"Kai? Is that you?" she asked again. Her voice was tense with worry.

Waves crashed into the pier, the ship rocked softly, the room remained still. I'm imagining things, she told herself, but still her heart beat heavy in her chest.

Mariana fumbled around, her fingers searching a small side table for flint. The lantern swung overhead, and she had to pull it down to light the wick. Snapping the rock against a metal block several times created bright sparks in the dark. She couldn't imagine living without her magic for long. Trying to start a simple fire was aggravating.

One more crack of rock on steel sent a spark onto the oil-soaked wick, and the room came to life with light.

Mariana raised her gaze, and her skin seemed to turn to stone. Two dark figures stood before her, their long black cloaks brushing the ground.

Mariana jerked backward, and her back slammed against a broad chest. Before she could turn, a sack slid over her head. She shouted out, but her assailant tightened the bottom of the sack around her neck, and a hand clamped down over her mouth and nose.

"Hush, girl," a voice as scratchy as the fabric whispered in her ear. "The harder you struggle, the more I'll make it hurt." He twisted the edge of the sack tighter around her neck, making the course material rub her flesh raw.

If she had been human, she would have struggled for breath. Instead, Mariana planted her feet and slammed the back of her skull into the man's face.

He bellowed a curse, and the grip on Mariana's head slackened enough for her to drive an elbow back into the man's sternum. He fell—hard.

Mariana circled to her right as she tore the sack off her head. The smell of blood was intoxicating. She must have broken his nose. She imagined the blood dripping down the man's face, warm and red.

"Stop her," the man hissed between gasping coughs.

The two figures lunged, but Mariana leaped over the bed and raced for the door. She threw it open, expecting to see a guard posted to make sure she stayed indoors. The hall was empty. She had no time to care. She threw the door shut behind herself. The slam of a body hitting wood echoed in her chest, but Mariana dashed for the stairs.

The main deck was dark, and three more figures in black cloaks were waiting.

"Please," Mariana gasped.

Footfalls followed up the stairs, and before she could plead with the ones waiting on the deck, she was surrounded. A mage without her powers was nothing more than a girl with a few moves. Mariana was outnumbered. She might be able to handle herself against one rogue in the night. But six?

"I'm not alone," Mariana told them. She turned in a tight circle, looking to each of them in turn, but she couldn't make out any faces.

"Sure looks like you're alone," one of the shadowed figures said, her voice hissing like a snake. "Vampire," she spat.

"I'm simply passing through. I mean no harm," Mariana reasoned. "I haven't set foot on Toric land."

"Not yet," the bloodied man replied. The moonlight shone down on his scruffy face. His nose tilted painfully to the right, and blood dripped onto his clothes and the deck. He wasn't scared—he smiled. He grinned like a cat with a mouse in the trap, and his blood and his spit and the dark mixed, making his teeth look black in the night.

The six shadows circled in on her.

Mariana threw a punch at one shadow's face, but a hand caught her by the wrist and twisted her arm painfully behind her. They were on her all at once, like a pack of starved hounds. She kicked out, landing a heel on something soft, and one of them stumbled back with a groan. But it was to no avail. Her legs fell out from under her, and her face slammed into the wooden deck.

She smelled the man's blood on the old planks. The man with the broken nose pulled his hood back up, and shadows ate his face. But his grin had been burned into Mariana's mind.

He held up the sack and yanked it over her head while countless hands held her down.

Mariana screamed.

No one answered.