The Hidden Prophecy Trilogy

3. Lunatics and Madmen-2

She took a deep breath in, and then out, and then in again. She would not be a helpless little lamb. If this psychopath intended to kill her, she would go out swinging. She heard his footsteps downstairs, walking through the rubble of the building. The steps echoed and eventually faded, maybe even leaving.

not Looking around for something close to her, she noted a sharp rock under a pile of dust and plaster. She leaned over ever so quietly and stretched her arms as far as she could toward the rock. Snagging the corner, she pulled it closer, the edge scraping on the floor.

She froze and waited to see if the man, Zaid, would come running back up the stairs, but the room remained silent. Picking up the piece, she brought it close and tucked it between her palms, using the zip-tie to wedge it in tightly. Once she was satisfied, she bent her knees to either side, stretching the tie around her legs as best she could. Raising her arms over her head again, she sucked in a breath and slammed the rock down.

She could hear the distant sound of traffic, but no murderers came rushing up the stairs.

Looking down, she saw she only grazed the tie; it didn’t break. It took fifteen minutes and several attempts to free her ankles. Her hands were raw and bleeding by the time she was done. But a trickle of pride swelled at the sight of her freed legs. She moved to start on her wrists, but the faintest scrape of a shoe on concrete came from outside the window.

She whipped around and hunched against the wall away from the staircase, pretending she was crying. She heard Zaid’s solid footsteps come up the stairs and a rustle of fabric. Her heart started beating frantically in her chest.

Zaid froze on the other side of the room. “I told you I’m just taking you to your trial. I’m not going to kill you.” She could hear him come closer and toss a pile of what looked like clothing and a pair of shoes at her feet. She had forgotten that all she was wearing were men’s boxer shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Where had he gotten that so fast? There weren’t any shopping malls nearby. She didn’t have time to be self-conscious, though, and gripped the rock securely, waiting for the right moment.

When she didn’t answer, Zaid came closer.

His hand clamped down on her shoulder, and she struck. The grunt that came out of him was almost as satisfying as the impact the rock made on his cheekbone, a large gash appearing. He stumbled to the ground, catching himself on a knee, one hand going to his cheek. Violent rage flashed in his eyes.

Kinza wasted no time getting to her feet and hurtled across the room and all but fell down the stairs, hands still tied. As she got to the bottom step, she heard a scraping sound upstairs and knew she was dead. Impossibly fast, a moment later, arms locked around her chest, pinning her biceps to her sides. She threw her head back as hard as she could and heard a loud crunch. The man just let out a frustrated growl and lifted her up, her feet well above the ground now. She started kicking and flailing in the air as hard as she could.

She would not die like this. The image of her mother’s limp hand came unbidden to her mind.

not “Heelpp!” she screamed. “Someone, please help me!” she screamed and sobbed, her throat going raw again. She couldn’t get a purchase as she tried scraping and clawing at him.

“Stop!” Zaid yelled, his deep voice rumbling against her back. He stumbled backward and sat down toward the bottom of the stairs, wrapping his calves around Kinza’s and lifting his chin so she couldn’t headbutt him again.

She thrashed, again and again, gaining no traction. It was like trying to lift a horse off her, and she eventually stopped, tears tracking down her face.

“Are you done yet?” Zaid asked.

Kinza just let out another scream in response.

“Fine. I can sit here all day, but you can make this easier for both of us.”

She didn’t reply and just sat there, feeling defeated. After close to ten breaths, Zaid released his hold a fraction of an inch, but no more. “Why?” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone. “What did I do?” The tears wouldn’t stop now that they had started. Fury had quickly disintegrated into hopelessness.

“I’ve told you probably four times now. Ubir go to Rhapta for their trials. Blood magic is illegal and dangerous.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, you lunatic,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what a ubir is or where Rhapta is, and I sure as hell don’t play any magic games.” She sniffled a bit. “I think you have the wrong girl.”

lunaticZaid was silent for a moment. “Your name is Kinza Solace, is it not?”

Tears dribbled down her face, but she nodded.

“Then you are wanted for being a ubir. It’s possible your parents made you complete the blood rite when you were a child, but you can explain that at your trial. It happens sometimes.”

Kinza craned her head to the side, trying to look at him, but all she could see was the sleeve of his shirt. “Dude. Bro. Sir. My parents are dead. My mom was a dental assistant, and my dad was in sales. That was it. I’ve never heard of any of the things you are talking about.”

dead“I don’t know what to tell you. It’s my job to bring you in, and you can defend yourself at the trial.”

“And what happens if I’m found guilty at this trial thing? Do they still let me go home?”

Zaid hesitated. “No… everyone found guilty is sentenced to death.” It sounded so final, so absolute.

Silent tears kept falling down Kinza’s face, and she nodded as if in acceptance. “Okay, then,” she said quietly. She was too tired to keep fighting.

“If I let go, will you stay calm?” Zaid asked.

Kinza gave another small nod. He released her a moment later, pausing to see if she would flail like a rabid animal again. But she just sat there. “What now?” she asked.

“You can go upstairs and change into the clothes I brought you.” He reached out and hesitantly cut the zip ties around her wrists.

“Ah. We want the inmate to look presentable,” she said sarcastically. “Makes sense.” Without looking at him, she trudged back up the stairs.

* * *

Zaid watched the girl walk up the stairs. His cheek throbbed from the gash and his nose, but he knew it was already healing, the skin knitting back together. While she was quiet now, he didn’t think she would continue this sullen attitude the whole way there. It was only a matter of time until the volcano of rage erupted again. He reached a hand up to his nose.

Yup. Definitely broken.

Yup. Definitely broken.On an inhale, he cracked it back into place, waves of pain flowing through his face, but he ignored it. After a few moments, he could feel the warm, prickling sensation of the healing as it began again.

He needed to find a way to keep her calm until they got there. Then he would deposit her into the Elders’ waiting cells and would wash his hands of her and maybe take a nice vacation or something. He hadn’t been to Tahiti in a while.

Zaid climbed the crumbling stairs when he no longer heard the rustle of clothing. When he got up there, she was dressed and sitting with her back to the wall, forearms resting on her knees. She looked up at him, “If I can’t convince you that I’m not an ubir or whatever, then how can I convince a bunch of judges? Is there even a jury?”

He heaved a breath and sat on an open windowsill, the breeze coming through nicely. He just looked at her and shrugged, trying not to exacerbate her mood.

“Can we play a game?” she asked.

“A game?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” she wiped at the drying tears on her face. “I will answer a question for every question you answer for me.”

Zaid thought for a moment. The answers to the questions he guessed she wanted would be of no consequence. The only part of his job that was secretive was keeping tribal matters out of human knowledge. He didn’t do overly well at that last part the night before, with the whole neighborhood waking up, but it would be fine. The Ummanu would take care of it. In the meantime, though, he could try to find out what her abilities were. He still had no idea what that wave of white light energy had been back at the house. Maybe it was a new ability? This could be his way to find out.

“Okay,” he said with a nod.

She looked a smidge brighter at the agreement. “Okay, um. Where are you taking me?”

“Rhapta,” he said, not for the first time.

“Okay, but where is that?”

“Tanzania, south of Mount Kilimanjaro, but also on another plane of existence, in a way. It’s here, but only Anunnaki can get there.” She furrowed her brow but looked at him expectantly. “Ah, what are your abilities?”

She just blinked at him. “I can juggle and wiggle my ears, and I’ve never lost a game of Mario Kart. Well, okay, maybe just a few times. Um, what is an ubir?”

He folded his arms. “An ubir is an Anunnaki that has broken from the collective Aura by using blood magic, usually through a blood rite sacrifice.” Her face twisted in disgust. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen. How old are you?”

Zaid paused for a moment, not anticipating any personal questions. “Twenty-one. Tell me about your parents.”

She scowled. “That’s not the same kind of question.”

He didn’t respond, just looked at her and awaited her answer.

She huffed a breath. “I told you. My mom was a dental hygienist born in Chicago and met my dad, who was in sales, at a party the summer after high school. They were together ever since, basically best friends.” She looked away, drawn into her own thoughts for a moment. “They died when I was nine. What’s an Anunnaki?”

“We are an ancient tribe, older than the oldest civilization. Anunnaki have existed all throughout human history, and we have several myths on how we came to be, but none of them are the same. Humans have noted our existence, but we try to keep that from happening, so we end up as stories they tell by the fire. Think Mesopotamian gods, Tuatha de Danann of Ireland, angels of the Bible. Anunnaki are stronger and heal faster, live longer than humans, in addition to the… gifts that we each have. While we may look human, we are different. We live in Rhapta as a guiding hand to humanity, albeit from inside the city. We cannot leave. It would cause too much chaos in the world. How did they die?”

She looked up at him under lowered eyelids. “You did not just call yourself a god. And pick a different question.”

Zaid looked toward the ceiling as if to roll his eyes. “What did you attack me with back at the house?”

Now Kinza looked truthfully confused. “Me? Attack you? You came into my house, remember? And you blew up my room. It’s not my fault you screwed it up.” She picked at a seam on the green cargo pants he had brought her.

my “Do you not remember the white light? And I didn’t blow anything up. It’s not one of my abilities.”

Her dark eyes snapped up. “Abilities? What does that actually mean? Like what?”

“It’s my turn still. You really have no idea what that light was?”

She shook her head, eyebrows lowered. “I remember having a nightmare, and then I woke up, and my room was destroyed, and some freak was in my living room.” She raised an eyebrow at him. The sheer level of sass that emanated out of her every pore must have been an ability on its own. “Okay, my turn. What are your ‘abilities?’” she asked.

Zaid sighed. “Besides Anunnaki passive abilities, I can move at the speed of sound, and I can sense heartbeats up to a quarter-mile radius. Why did the old lady have a Deathstone?”

“Uh-huh….and I have no idea what that is.”

Zaid was becoming frustrated by her lack of knowledge. “Okay, where is your tribal marker?”

Her face was a chagrined question mark.

“Your tattoo, where is it?” Shock registered across her face, and her eyes narrowed.

“You watched me change! You perv!”

“No, all Anunnaki have them. So you do have one then?”

do She hesitated a moment before saying, “For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a tattoo. I have no idea where I got it.” She waited another moment before lifting the light blue tank top to reveal the tattoo on her upper abdomen. Zaid froze, the circular symbol of the tribe was there, but there was more to the tattoo. Tiny chains and what looked like gemstones extended out both sides in an intricate design. He had never seen one like that.

His was larger than normal, but that was due to the venari pact; they all had it when they accepted the job. It allowed him to keep his abilities when he left the city, but only for a month at a time. There were limits, of course.

venari“Ah. So there we go,” he said, not elaborating on the tattoo’s oddness. “You’re Anunnaki. Case closed. Now, as fun as this game has been, we have to get going soon. Are you going to behave yourself, or do I need to tie you up again?”

She inhaled so fast at the threat he thought she was about to pounce, a scowl twisted her face into rage. Honestly, the speed at which her emotions could change would put a typhoon to shame. It was almost glorious. But she clicked her teeth shut and said, “So I still have to go with you?”

He nodded.

She looked down. “Okay, I won’t tear your face off on three conditions. One, we get to keep playing. Two, you never knock me out again like you did last night. And three, we gotta stop at Walgreens or something. I’m starving, my hair is a disaster, I have a migraine, and I really need some Chapstick.”

Zaid just grunted in confirmation. He did not expect her to keep to that agreement in the slightest. “Meet me downstairs in five minutes.”