The Maelstrom's Heart (Tales Of The Misplaced Book 3) - Adam K. Watts

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The Maelstrom's Heart - book excerpt

Chapter 1: Mira

I felt myself waking up. I’ve heard people talk about that moment between sleep and wakefulness; that place where everything is peaceful and happy. I searched for it, but it wasn’t there. Just a cold emptiness. And pain.

I didn’t want to open my eyes. I didn’t want to wake up and face everything that had happened. For a moment, I thought that if I could just keep my eyes closed, it wouldn’t be real. But the hollow ache in my chest was no dream. And I could feel the dried tears on my face.

I don’t think I’d ever really felt hate before. Anger? Sure. Outrage. But a hatred that burned cold and filled me with rage and a hunger for violence? A drive to hurt and smash and rend and scream? This was new.

I just needed a target.

I tested this new feeling. Rubbing it with my hands and drawing it around myself like a heavy coat. Luxuriating in it. Flexing into it, feeling the perfect fit as it slid into place like a pair of Gylan’s boots.

Dimétrian. The Riders, too. But Dimétrian was their architect. He was the one who would pay the most. I was going to rip his heart out.

“Are you awake?”

The voice was soft. Female. That wouldn’t do. I wanted something hard to fight against.

I opened my eyes and looked for the source. She stood in a doorway, looking at me. She was Ulané Jhinura. Her hair was black, and she looked at me with violet eyes that reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t place it.

“Where am I?” I croaked.

She cocked her head at me. “You are at Odaro. Master Dimétrian’s estate. Are you injured? I’m not really much of a healer, but I have some small talent.”

I shook my head. Even if I’d been injured, I would have refused. I didn’t want to feel good.

“If you can stand,” she said, “we should get you a bath and some clothes.”

I looked down. I’d been stripped of my armor and leathers, down to my sports bra and panties.

“Where are my things?” I sat up on the small bed I found myself on. The room was hardly bigger than the bed, maybe four feet by seven feet at best. And the bed was just a pallet on the floor.

“Taken,” she shrugged. “Gone. Who knows? Discarded, perhaps. Or maybe he saved them to torment you with. How much does he hate you?”

“Not as much as I hate him.”

She sighed. “What is your name, child?”

“I’m not a child,” my voice was low and hard. She’d done nothing to deserve it.

“No,” she shook her head. “I suppose you aren’t.”

“How could I be?” I demanded. “I’ve fought assassins and Riders! I’ve been trained and promoted to Stick in the Su Lariano military! I led a caravan to Pokorah-Vo and back! I’ve killed seven people! Seven! And I’ve lost—” my breath caught. “I’ve lost…” I shook my head as if to clear away the emotions threatening to engulf me. Focus on hatred.

“I understand.” she nodded.

“Do you?” I snapped at her.

“Yes!” Her eyes had gone suddenly hard. Then they shifted to some inner memory and turned sad. She blinked away the memory. “Yes, I do. But it was very long ago. Your wounds are still fresh.” She looked at me searchingly. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

My mouth moved, but no sound came out, like a fish out of water.

“It’s too soon,” she shook her head. “When you are ready, and if you wish it, I will be here to listen. I’m Ree. Part of my job is to help new arrivals get settled in. We are not so different, you and I. We are neither of us here by our own choice. Servants of Master Dimétrian.”

“Servants? You mean slaves?” That surprised me. I had assumed I was a prisoner. Actually, I’d expected he would have killed me. But a slave?

“We aren’t permitted to say that word,” she told me. “We are servants. Look at your wrists.”

I raised my hands to look at the bracelets that had been locked into place. They weren’t the same. One looked familiar. I held it up.

“This is a tracker, right?”

“Yes. You’re familiar with them?”

“Yeah,” I remembered the one Shéna had. The one we had to break off of her and that Rispan had to run off with to keep her from being found.

“The other one,” she explained, “Prevents you from accessing ambient magic. I assume you were some sort of mage if they felt this was necessary.”

I looked at the other one. It was more like an arm guard in appearance. It was a good six inches wide and wrapped all the way around my forearm. It was covered in markings engraved into the metal. The engravings were familiar, but I didn’t know where I would have seen anything like that.

“I’ve been working on it,” I shrugged. I tried to access the Ralahin. Nothing happened. “Tesia’s been training me. I’ve learned a little and I’d definitely fry them if I had a chance. But Tesia—” No. I stopped myself from going on. I didn’t want to think about her or Mooren. I didn’t want to think about how I’d failed them. Not now.

“Tesia?” She thought for a moment, then her eyebrows shot up. “Felora’s little girl! Oh, I remember her! She was so precocious. Oh, yes!” She laughed. “And Veeluthun would follow her around like a puppy-dog.” She glanced at me. “Close your mouth dear, you’ll catch flies.”

“But…” Who was she? “You know Felora? And Veeluthun?”

She nodded, looking at some inner memory. “I am also from Su Lariano.”

“Are you—” Could it be? “You’re her, aren’t you? You’re Reelu Ulan—”

“Don’t say it!” She stopped me. “I am Ree. A common servant. That’s all anyone knows or needs to know. You mustn’t speak of it.”

“Neelu never stopped looking,” I told her.

She took a deep breath and let it out. “I didn’t know for certain whether she survived.”

By now I knew the story by heart. “She went for help, but by the time they got there you and your son were gone.”

“As I said, that was long ago,” she said. “For now, we need to get you cleaned up and into some clothes. Then we’ll see if we can find out where you’ll be working. You’ll need to apprentice under one of the more experienced servants.”

“But… haven’t you ever tried to escape? You don’t have a tracker.”

She shook her head. “I am told my son works in the kitchens at another estate and is treated well. If I am other than… exemplary, I put him at risk. That’s why I am only Ree. It would put him at risk if they realized who I am… who he is.” She looked at me. “You must not tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” I told her. Thinking about her situation was helping me, keeping me from focusing too much on my own pain. My own loss. “How often do you get to see him?”

She shook her head again. “I have not seen him since that day in the forests of Su Lariano all those years ago. Dimétrian tells me of him now and again. It’s all I have.”

I tried to find out more, but she didn’t want to talk about it any further, so I just followed her to the laundry where clothes for “servants” were washed and stored for use. I was given clothes similar to what Ree wore: a skirt that reached my knees, and a simple shirt that buttoned in the front. Both white. Nearby were the baths and I cleaned myself up before putting on my slave clothes.

“Now we must see Milos,” Ree said. “He will tell us where you are to work.”

She led me down a hallway from the room I’d woken up in; it was lined with doors on both sides. From what I could see, they led to other small rooms like the cramped one I’d been in. Cells. Stalls. That’s about all they were. At the end of the hall on the left side was a larger room.

“This is the dining hall where you will eat,” Ree told me, pointing to the left. “Food is only available at certain times; if you miss your window, you miss your meal.”

She knocked on the door across from the dining hall and went in. An Ashae was standing with his back to the door, looking out a window. The view included what I could only assume was Dimétrian’s palatial home. It was huge. The slaves’ quarters were evidently a detached wing.

Ree stood silently, waiting for the Ashae to address her. Finally, he turned around. He only gave me a perfunctory glance.

“This is the new one, eh?” he asked Ree.

“Yes, Milos,” She bobbed her head. “I came to inquire where she is to be utilized so that I can assign her the proper trainer.”

Milos sat in a chair behind the desk and crossed his right foot over his left knee. He looked at me again, this time more deliberately.

“Balangur, huh?”

I shrugged. “Raven will do.”

Raven was a better name for me now. It felt like the girl who had been Mira had died with Mooren. Raven was someone else entirely. The raven symbolized many things in many different cultures. Some of them were very dark and fit well with my new coat of hatred. The raven was the bringer of death.

“This one is not to be a regular servant,” he said to Ree. “This one thinks she’s some kind of fighter. She’s to go to the practice yard. Come with me.”

He led off and we followed.

“The practice yard?” Ree asked him. “But what will she do there?”

“She’ll fight any challenger,” he said. “As long as she can stand. And then you will heal her so she can go again.”

We’d gone out a door toward another detached wing. As we neared, I could hear the sounds of training. We came around the building and there was a cleared area and Ashae were practicing and sparring.

“These are house guards,” Milos grinned at me. “They hold a monthly competition, and they practice for it constantly. There are great rewards for any who can impress Master Dimétrian.”

“What kind of rewards?” I asked.

“None for you,” he laughed. “You’re just the practice dummy.”

I looked at the practicing Ashae. They all wore at least leather armor, and some had heavier protection.

“I won’t last long in this,” I indicated my shirt and blouse.

“Tough luck.” He shrugged. “We have no armor to fit you.”

“I had my own,” I said. “I was wearing it when they took me.”

“If you survive the day, maybe I’ll look into it.” He turned to the practice yard. “Heads up!” he called. “This is your new practice dummy!” He pointed at me. “She thinks she’s special. Even wants a fancy name. But she’s a slug. So that’s her name. Slug. Try not to kill it!”

Two of the Ashae who had been sparring exchanged a grin and started walking toward me, swords in hand.

Milos turned to Ree, “I suggest you stand back.”

There was a weapons rack at one end of the yard, and I made a run for it. One of the approaching Ashae laughed and took a half-hearted swing at me as I went by. I grabbed a staff from the rack and moved toward the center of the space to give myself more room. My head still hurt, but I was going to enjoy taking out my rage on anyone who came against me. For as long as I could.

They came at me like I was the point of a triangle. They didn’t seem to be used to coordinating together.