The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) by Rebecca P. McCray

Ampal wiped
his swords and sheathed them, then continued onward.
    Each of the party looked at the
Graeliths as they passed. Prizene couldn’t take her eyes off the second
Graelith. When she reached the body, she stopped. Could it be? In his eyes, she
was certain she saw fear. Her chest tightened and her vision blurred as her
eyes moistened. She bit her lip. But wasn’t he just a beast?
    Something touched her shoulder and
she jumped. She turned to find Eros standing next to her. His eyes softened and
he gave her a half-hearted smile. He walked over and squatted by the Graelith,
and then gently closed the creature’s eyes. He bowed his head for a moment,
then stood and faced her. With a quick nod, he resumed his place walking with
the others.
    She caught a glimpse of movement
out of the corner of her eye. Arith was standing back, waiting for her. She
walked over to the Graelith and squatted in front of him. What did one do for
the dead? She closed her eyes and bowed her head. May you find peace. Then
she took one last look at the Graelith, stood, and followed the others with
Arith bringing up the rear.
    The plan worked smoothly. They had
encountered just the two Graeliths, easily killed by Ampal alone. No other
enemies crossed their path. Prizene hoped one day her fighting skills could be
half as strong as Ampal’s. In a short time, they entered the medic’s home and
Tip was carried below ground to a small medical laboratory. Prizene followed
the others to the rooftop to enjoy the midday sun. They would rest until
shortly after midnight, then they would depart for the western edge of the
city.
    The medic brought a weak but
sure-footed Tip to the roof a few hours later. He reported that he had treated
Tip’s wounds and replaced the blood he had lost. Luckily, he owned some highly
advanced medical tools designed in the early days of the Tyrnott rule, before
possession of such tools became illegal. With these instruments, he could
repair tissue deep within the wounds, slowly working his way out toward the
surface. Tip’s wounds were nearly healed, leaving only tenderness on his side.
    Tip’s color returned quickly. Given
his enthusiastic grin, he apparently enjoyed hearing stories of his and
Prizene’s escape. As the storytelling quieted, Tip asked a question. “Why are
we marked?”
    Prizene stole a glance at the
others, curious as to their reactions. She hoped to see reflections of her own
curiosity on the subject, but instead, just saw blank stares. She shifted her
eyes back to Tip.
    He stammered, “I guess … I just
don’t understand. Few from Kentish have ever been marked. Sometimes the traders
tell us tales, but we travel rarely to the city and hear little of the
happenings. Why did this happen to me?”
    Poor Tip. Prizene couldn’t leave
him out on that limb on his own, could she? She chimed in, “Most Krystics care
little of the marked. My father shared some of the Miyran legends, but you
aren’t alone in your lack of knowledge.”
    She turned to Arith and raised her
eyebrows to encourage him. He sighed and leaned back against the roof wall,
stretching his arms and resting his hands behind his head. “The Miyrans settled
on Zolei a century and a half ago. Of their time before that, I know nothing. Of
their time since, I can speak some truth and some legend, though I warn you
that I don’t necessarily know one from the other.
    “Here’s what I have heard. At any
given time, two Miyran heirs must survive to protect the planet. From what I
understand, Zolei had long been known as a place of prosperity. As this part of
the galaxy was heavily populated and many races came under attack, they
traveled from barren and ravaged worlds to seek solace here. Lord Attol and his
daughter Lady Anyamae maintained peace for a long time. The Miyrans were
cautious when permitting new species access to the planet, though not cautious
enough. Lord Attol allowed the Tyrnotts to settle here. At first, they seemed
peaceful,