Light Speed Read online

  Light Speed

  Parched

  Z.L. Arkadie

  Copyright © 2015 by Z.L. Arkadie

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-0-9849884-6-4

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Light Speed

  1. The Call

  2. The Bond

  3. The Decision

  4. The Downpour

  5. Blowing Smoke

  6. The First Touch

  7. Back to Life

  8. Dag Lust

  9. The Rescue

  10. Bumps on the Road

  11. Dag Fun

  12. The Steal

  The Denouement

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to the following:

  Edited by Red Adept Editing

  Karri Klawiter of Art by Karri

  Light Speed

  (Parched Novel Series)

  Read about what happens to Adore before she enters Vanquish (Parched, Book 4).

  * * *

  When Adore, the first sister, is lured out of Enu, she finds herself in the crosshairs of the “white-haired Selell.” The diabolically evil, Lario Exgesis never thought he would succumb to the power of the bond, but he has. Will his feelings for Adore get in the way of his evil ambitions? Especially since she happens to be bonded with more than one vampire.

  * * *

  Navi, the fourth sister. She’s literally gotten herself into a sticky situation. Surprisingly the one sister who knows how to call her on her BS has come to save her, and she brought her annoying and notorious new bond with her. Will Navi’s secrets and ulterior motive derail them from their mission to get their hands on a very desirable and powerful object?

  1

  The Call

  Adore

  I am with my mother, Ce’lah’ime, gathering fruit for the Tilt. I love watching her skin glow. She’s the shade of the puek leaf, shimmering like gold and diamonds under the eternal sun. We’ve come to the Forest of Naught to pick the ci’ke, ton’rek, and ci’cha fruit. Duk, three. That is how many fruits are needed for celebrating the eastward leaning of the perpetual sun.

  My mother insisted on the ci’ke, ton’rek, and ci’cha. I wanted the lu’kek, pin’kek, and ze’ru, but she said it was necessary for me to acquire a taste for the fruit that grows in the Forest of Naught. When I asked her why, she offered no reason.

  “Ve’ku, nek, Tet’ram’kek, Ce’lah’ime,” I say to her, pleading one last time.

  “Speak English, Adore,” she gently scolds.

  “Please, can we go to the Forest of Whispers?” I say as we stop at the sprawling, purple-leaved vekt bush where the ci’ke grows. “It’s better there.”

  Ce’lah’ime’s mouth stretches into a smile, and she touches my cheek. She is a gentle mank’et, the creature who is able to give suck when her belly is full with child, like the human woman. She is the only mank’et ever to distend at the belly and breasts, giving birth to the seven daughters of Felix Benel.

  “My Ad’ru…” There is sadness in her bright scarlet eyes. “We’ll take these. You will like them. You’ll see.”

  “Yes,” I humbly acquiesce while reaching to pull a ci’ke off its spiky branch.

  I choose to complain no more. Instead, I relish in the eastward sun. Its delicate rays glide across my skin, and I feel as if I’m being kissed on the lips a million times by Tryst. He’s in the Forest of Whispers, gathering with Links and Valor. I always miss him when we are apart, but never in the way Cl’auta longs for the Selell Ze Feldis, or Na’ta for the Selell Telman.

  Yet Tryst’s nearness does make my insides tickle. The feeling is like sliding down Jaf’ra Falls when the waters transform from gray to green. That’s when the current is the fastest. But that’s the only effect he has on me. He doesn’t make my thighs burn or head grow light and giddy. I have felt those sensations in my sisters when they are around their Selell bonds. That such a thing can happen to me is terrifying. I hope it never does.

  The thought of bonding with a Selell troubles me as I fill my basket with the dark purple ci’ke. Each fruit is ripe for the picking. Ce’lah’ime, who usually hums a hymn of gratitude to the trees whenever she picks from them, is silent. I detect a kernel of sadness in her eyes, and I notice that she scarcely looks at me.

  “Mother,” I begin excitedly, attempting to brighten her mood.

  Now she smiles, and I already feel relieved.

  “After the feast, Tryst, Bohem, and I are going to the Vast Sea to chase the sickels,” I announce with unconstrained jubilance.

  We, I, can hardly wait. The sickels of the Vast Sea are quicker than the average ones. They are elusive and enjoy being pursued in the watery depths. If you can keep up, then you’ll be rewarded. They will lead you to uncharted territory. Once they brought us to a huge dome with walls made of solid emerald; that’s what we call it—te’ko’lok be’kt, the emerald dome. The green waters stream in all directions along the slippery walls, and if you catch the right current, they will slide you across the wall, or up it, or in loops, or send you crisscrossing in so many directions. It’s always surprising when it carries us in ways we never expected.

  I am sure I look happy about my plans, and usually my expression is reflected in Ce’lah’ime’s face—but not this time. Her dim smile curls downward at the corners.

  “Mother, what is it?” I’m concerned, but not for her. Strangely, I’m only worried for myself.

  She stares at my wide and curious expression. Her lips part slightly. She wants to speak, but she doesn’t.

  “Please,” I beg.

  After a moment, the smile I’m used to returns. “This is enough ci’ke, Ad’ru. Let’s gather the ton’rek.”

  I walk behind her, following her to the trees which yield the fuzzy orange ton’rek. Our feet crunch in the grass, and the tender, warm wind presses against our skin.

  “Tapeetha has left Enu?” she asks.

  Her question takes me by surprise. “Yes.” I don’t want to speak of it.

  The truth is, I am the only daughter of Felix Benel left in Enu. For that reason, I did not want to lead Cl’auta and the Selell Ze Feldis to Pan’a’tua. My entire heart had hoped that Pan’a’tua would resist them and stay in Enu, but she did not stay. And now…

  “And Clarity and Ze Feldis have taken her to Earth?” my mother asks.

  “Yes.” I don’t like her questions. I don’t want to talk about it. Instead, I want to tell her more about the emerald dome and Tryst. “Who told you this?” My tone is sharp, but only because I sense the implications in her questions. My sisters are gone. I’m here. She must know, as long as I have a choice, I will never leave. I cannot live without her or Tryst or my home, my majestic Enu.

  “Your father,” she answers, just as I thought.

  “But not for long, I’m sure,” I sing with forced enthusiasm. “Maybe Na’ta will return for the Tilt. She loves the celebration. Not even I can do the Dance of Flows like she can.” For some strange reason, I search over my shoulder and mutter, “I’m sure she’ll show up.” I am not certain.

  My mother does not comment. Even she knows that my hopes will be thwarted. I continue to follow her toward the ton’rek trees. We are engulfed by their fragrant mist.

  She whips her face toward the Diamond Mountains to the north. “Ah,” she sings with delight, “Felix Benel has arrived.”

  I feel as though I’m shrinking into my feet. This is all too strange. Even as I reach out to take in the energy of E
nu, I cannot soothe my anxiety. He knows that I am the last of his daughters to leave Enu. What news will he bring me? I close my eyes to let the dread pass through me. My mother’s warm hand touches my arm, and I open my eyes.

  “You gather the ton’rek, Ad’ru. I will join him,” she says.

  “You’re leaving?” I ask, disappointed.

  She puts her scarlet eyes on me. They are glassy, the closest she has ever come to crying. Enuians do not cry. Ce’lah’ime touches my face again then kisses the tip of my nose. She does this every time we part company, but this time, her lips linger longer than usual. What’s frightening is that I feel nothing from her, none of the deep happiness usually contained within her. It can only be because she is not happy, and there’s no reason for that. I’m here with her, she’s gathering fruit for the Tilt, and my father, Felix, will soon join us. Why is she not happy?

  She reaches into her basket to give me a ci’ke. “My gift upon parting.”

  In my mind, the tiny fruit seems to expand in her hand. It looks too heavy to bear.

  “I don’t understand, Ce’lah’ime…” I don’t reach for it. I don’t want to take the gift, although it’s bad form not to accept it. I want her to withdraw the offer.

  “Take it,” she insists.

  “But…” I hesitantly put my hand on the ci’ke.

  After a moment of reading my face, she says, “You don’t want it, Ad’ru?”

  I shake my head, relieved she asked.

  “Well then…” She puts the fruit back into her basket and surprises me by handing over the whole basket. “Then hold this while I answer your father’s call.”

  My hand creeps up to latch onto the handle. Oh, how I wish she wasn’t doing this. I can refuse her, although it would be a slight akin to striking her with my hand. So reluctantly, I take the basket and am left holding hers and mine too. A true smile has returned to her face. The happiness from within her emanates. My human heart expands with love, and my angst flutters away.

  “Be Oh, Ad’ru,” she says and kisses me once on my lips.

  This makes me nervous again. She’s given me the kiss of long journeys. I wonder if she’s going away with my father. Will she not attend the Tilt? Yes! That has to be it. That is why she’s given me her gatherings and is leaving so abruptly. Felix and Ce’lah’ime are bonded by something deeper than mere love. My mother told me how they came to be.

  To the Enuians, when Felix was born, he was a novelty. They had never seen an infant, and so they came from every space on the orb just to get a glimpse and a whiff of him. He was nurtured by Meni’he, the tiller in the east spectrum, for the first eight years of his human life. That was when he first saw Ce’lah’ime. He was just a child, but she was not.

  As soon as he could walk, he roamed the landscapes of Enu. Three years into his human age, he would climb the grassy mountain of Bar’tuk’me whenever the sun tilted dut, or two degrees, west. That was when she appeared. Tek te’re’tu mank’et. The Golden Lady. Those were the first words he ever spoke. For five years, at the same time of each long Enuian day, he hiked up the hill to watch the Golden Lady dive off the steep cliff into the crystal stream that ran along the ridge below.

  At the end of his eighth year, Loel, the celestial guardian from the Higher Heavens, carried him away from Enu to rear him in the ways of the earth. Loel taught Felix human logic, science, languages, customs, and all about the power of his mind. My mother said it was during those years that my father saw and experienced the worst of mankind and, at times, the best. She says the worst is the reason he had very little joy.

  He was twenty-six in human years when he returned to Enu as a curious mathematician and astronomer. And just as when he was a child, the Enuians journeyed from all parts of the orb to welcome the half celestial-half human being back to their world. With each kiss on the lips to mark his journey home—and there were thousands of them—he began to feel joy once again. The spirits of pure-hearted creatures, the perpetual daylight, and then the Golden Lady. Throughout the years, he’d never forgotten the way she leapt off the cliff, soaring through the air with her arms wide, legs piked behind her, as graceful as a willow leaf rides a burst of wind.

  He thought he would have to wait until the sun tilted dut west to rest his yearning eyes upon the mank’et he had never forgotten. He even looked for her among the faces of those who had come to welcome him back to the land from where he came. However, he did not have to wait until dut west to see her. His humanity had set the mank’et creatures burning with lust for him, for the magnetism of his physical form and severe beauty, the brutish yet sweet smell of his human flesh and angelic composition. He was made from the heavens, and that reflected in his appeal.

  On the day Ce’lah’ime ventured east to find Felix Benel, the son of the human and the angel, she found him pruning the bo’vek’et bushes, preparing them for the season of ripening. When he caught first sight of her, something amazing happened: her chest grew, giving her rounded breasts and nipples for suckling. With one look, he had chosen her as a mate, and from that moment on, they were bonded.

  They are still special to each other. Humans call such a connection “married.” If my father had it his way, he would never don the attire and occupation of a man and walk the earth again. He would remain home with his Ce’lah’ime and spend eternity here.

  “Be oh,” I say, beaming because now I know why she’s behaving in such a manner. She’s going to spend special time with my father and will miss the celebration of the Tilt!

  “Good-bye,” she whispers, and there it is again—the sorrow. But she is gone before I can question her about it.

  I’m alone in the Forest of Naught. Other than Ce’lah’ime, Enuians do not venture here, even to gather the ci’ke, ton’rek, and ci’cha. I decide to gather a few more ton’rek and then rush off to join Tryst in the Forest of Whispers.

  “Ad’ru,” my father whispers.

  Caught off guard, I call, “Father?”

  “Ad’ru, come,” he says.

  I search ahead, toward the high regions where the ci’cha grow. There shines a light to one of the doorways fashioned by my father’s power. My feet turn heavy. My intuition forbids me to go. This visit is unexpected. Father has already called for Ce’lah’ime. What does he want with me?

  “Ad’ru,” my father calls again.

  Hearing his voice a second time makes me hurry forward to the door. “Father?”

  I go stiff because something foreign grips me. I feel as if a hand has reached inside my chest and taken hold of my heart, and is squeezing the life out of it. In my entire existence, I have not sensed such terror. Is my father in distress? He has human parts. He once returned from the earth injured. However, he is able to heal himself.

  “Run!” my instincts scream.

  “Ad’ru, come now!” he demands.

  His tone triggers movement in my feet. Although I’m gripped by fear and dread, I charge through the doorway, and I’m instantly swept up by a strange force. I can’t see it, but I feel its presence. It’s twisting my legs and my torso; it’s bending my body forward and backward. It’s so unrelenting that it takes no mercy on me when hard particles of some sort slam into my face, back, chest, and legs. This is chaos!

  I choose to struggle to regain control of my limbs, but there’s no winning. All I can do is give in to my aggressor’s will. I squeeze my eyes shut to endure the attack and wait for it all to stop. A small number of seconds feel like forever, but finally the experience is over.

  The noise. It’s like zenet’tuk’ra, a million voices. And what’s this sensation that’s smothering me? Where’s the warmth? What’s squeezing the life out of me is bitter and prickly, scratching deep into my skin. I think—and I’m sure—that for the first time in my existence, I am cold.

  My body is shivering. This is all too much to bear. My eyes are still shut tightly because I’m too afraid to open them and see what’s around me. Slowly I open one eye and then the other. What I see cau
ses a gasp to escape from my throat. Where is my sapphire sky that cuddles the perpetual sun that’s tilted dut west? I’m trapped beneath a domed sky that’s a swirl of white and gray. Are these human beings gazing down upon me?

  “Are you all right, ma’am?” one shouts.

  “Is she breathing?”

  “Her eyes are open!”

  “Is she alone?”

  “Anyone with her?”

  Their bodies range in size from husky to narrow, and their skins are the hues of the earth, like my sisters’ and mine. Their brown and blue eyes are ablaze. I sense their fear and concern in equal parts. Only now do I realize that I’m gagging, choked by rank air.

  “Somebody call 911!”

  My eyes want to close, but I refuse to let them. My throat doesn’t want to let this foul air into my body. I have to get home, back to Enu. It’s hazy, but far off I see a white-stone temple with a steepled rooftop. All I have to do is lift myself off the cold, hard ground and fly toward it. There I will wait until my father comes to save me.

  The edifices around me are tall and imposing. I reach toward them, intending to fly to them and hold on until my father comes to save me. But then I hesitate and consider the crowd’s collective gasp. Through the haze, I see that, one by one, the humans are gazing at the newly blackened sky. The atmosphere grows colder. I’m no longer the only one who’s deathly afraid.

  Now more than before, I have to get far away. The humans only pay me scant attention as I gag and choke while attempting to lift myself off the concrete. I’m too weak to move my heavy limbs. Tears well up in my eyes, and a thick lump forms in my throat. This debilitating feeling makes me want to cry. Never in my life have I been so hindered.