Changing of the Glads (5 page)

How did her injury have anything to do with him?

“What?” She tilted her head to one side so she could better see his face. “What do you mean, you’re lucky you survived?”

“We are one. Have you never felt me before?”

She slouched.

Felt him? No. Today was the first time she’d ever encountered another who could enter her mind. At what other time was she supposed to have felt him?

“I don’t know what you mean.” Zalphia watched his eyes flick back and forth as he met her gaze.

His brow furrowed. “I see.”

“See what?”

“I have been with you, but you never felt it.” He withdrew his fingers and shook his head. Taking a deep breath, he gazed into the trees for a moment before focusing again on her face. “I did. Heal you, I mean. Simeon taught me how our connection works. He taught me how to seek you out despite the distance that separated us.”

“Who?”

“Simeon. He is one of the Elders.”

“The Elders?” The things he was saying made no sense. Who were the Elders? And what did this Simeon know about her? Did they have anything to do with the Glads?

“Later I will explain. For now, all you need know is that I felt you since we were very young. Together we will change things. You
are
the other half of me. We were mated since birth. You and I, we are a Selestial pair.”

Maximillion said so many strange things. What was a Selestial pair? How could he feel her? Taking another bite of meat, she rummaged through her memories, trying to remember a time when someone else might have reached out for her, but she couldn’t locate a single instance where that might be the case.

Maximillion tipped his head into her line of vision. “You had to remain unaware of me and our mission until the time was right. You see, if you had known, you might have reacted differently to what I showed you this day. You would have prepared yourself against me, and our cause would have been lost. This way, you did exactly what was expected at the apex of our meeting. Now, we may lead the revolution.”

“Revolution? I know nothing about revolution or anything else you’ve said.” She would decide where her life went from here.  “What makes you think you can tell me what to do?” she snapped.

A sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. The hand holding the strip of meat fell to her side, and she chanced a glance at the shattered look on his face. She hadn’t meant to sound cruel and heartless. He had to know how she really felt, didn’t he? She could never knowingly walk away from him. He must know that.

He shook his head. “I am not telling you what to do. You may decide for yourself.”

The pain in her chest at the mere thought of not being with him caused moisture to brim in her eyes, but the stubbornness which made her formidable inside the arena reared its ugly head. 

“What makes you think that I’ll continue on with you?” she asked.

The lopsided grin lightened his countenance. “You will. And you feel it in here.” He tapped her chest. “Your heart is pure and clean.”

She huffed. Pure and clean. Ha! He’d seen the way she used her mind to best others in each and every match to stay alive. Yeah, right! Clean and pure as the dirt-packed arenas.

He looked deep into her eyes. “You might not believe it, but I know. I know what is in your heart. It is what I cherish about you. And you have been waiting for me, have you not?”

“What?” She shook her hand in front of him. “Until today, I didn’t even know you existed. How could I wait for someone I’ve never seen?”

“You have seen me. Seen us together, although, you may not remember. You dream. I know this because I share those with you. In your dreams, you hold me close.”

She felt the blood drain from her face. Her dreams did include a man and a family, but wouldn’t she recognize him? Did she truly remember the dreams or just the feelings and the idea of freedom? Purposely, she turned away and continued to chew on the meat in her hand while she considered what he’d said.

In her dreams, a man held her close. Feelings of belonging rushed through her. Would he feel familiar if she lay against him? She wanted to know, so she turned and nestled against his massive chest. 

A protective arm drew her closer. His heavy muscles felt smooth and warm against her bare skin. A shiver ran up her spine, and she grasped a quick breath. 

Had
she been here before?

His other arm circled around her, and he pulled her onto his lap like she was a small child. She laid her cheek against a massive pectoral muscle, and he rested his chin on her matted mop.

“I love you,” he muttered then pressed his lips into her hair.

The whole scene reeked of familiarity. She
had
been here before, wrapped in his strong arms, resting her head against his chest. Warmth and security trickled from her head to her toes, heating her insides. This
is
what she’d dreamt of. This
is
what she fought so long and hard for. This was what she wanted. Truth and rightness strummed the strings of her heart and struck a chord deep within. 

Their meeting in the arena hadn’t been an accident. It was meant to be. She could feel it now. They were truly one. Being in his arms was where she was meant to be. Her dreams were coming to life. They had shared before many moments just like this. Were they dreams? They seemed too real to be that. Memories? How could that be? She’d only met him hours before. They couldn’t have been cuddled together like this, but she could see it. They laughed together, loved each other, and been in each other’s arms. Her heart testified these were real.

Something stronger than anything she’d ever experienced brought moisture to her eyes. She wiped at them with one finger and marveled that, for a Glad, she’d shown more emotion in this last hour or so than in the last fifteen years.

“I...” She wanted to say the words, the same words he’d said, but they felt foreign, stilted. 

“It is all right. I feel it. No need to say what your mind is not ready to acknowledge.”

“But –”

“Hush now. Eat and save your strength. We have only a bit of time here before we must run. They have discovered our treachery and will soon be after us.”

That’s right! They weren’t really free yet. No one got away with damaging a Clubber without suffering the crushing stones. They not only damaged one, they’d done away with a whole arena of them – an entire arena of Clubbers, plus all the guards, Armors, and trainers in the facility. The punishment would be merciless. They would be hunted and brought back, tortured, and crushed, and then laid out for everyone to see. Zalphia saw it happen once, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Do not worry, my love. I will never let them have you.”

His essence spilled into her mind, driving away the pain and fear with the soft emotion he called peace.

Sighing, she let the meat drop from her hand and wrapped her arms around him. They didn’t even meet behind his back.

He sat between her and the rest of the world. A solid fortress of a man – hard and unforgiving on the outside but kind and loving deep inside.

Safety and security rolled over her and settled deep inside. Even in her dreams she’d never felt so loved and protected, and they couldn’t compare to what he now offered. No, leaving would never be an option. He had become the thing she would fight for. The feeling she wanted to feel. With him, the thought of another day carried excitement and joy. Freedom meant being by his side and sharing his life.

She didn’t remember him laying her back down, but when she awoke, she again lay in the makeshift bed.  Maximillion’s chest warmed her back. Her head rested on one bicep, and his other arm curled around her, holding her protectively against him. Air tickled the top of her head as he gently exhaled each slow breath. She snuggled closer.

Maximillion tightened his grip. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Oh, yes. You’ve saved me.”

“No, it is you that rescued me.”

“How can that be? You could’ve killed me in the arena, no contest. I already knew that if you wanted, you would be the victor.”

“You still do not understand. If you are gone, there would be nothing left for me. I would be an empty shell, and the warmth would flow out. You are my all.”

Her lips rose at the corners. She truly didn’t understand what he was saying, but it no longer mattered. What he offered was safety and freedom, and she would enjoy every moment of that with him. She turned and placed her ear against his chest, and his arms encircled her. The slow plodding of his heart sang a rhythmic lullaby. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. 

She marveled when she realized hers was keeping perfect time. Maybe there was something to what he said about being one, but she was too tired to think about it anymore. Closing her eyes, she slipped back into that perfect place he’d created for the two of them.

CHAPTER 5

Morning dawned cool and crisp.  One foot lay against the moist ground, sending a chill creeping up Zalphia’s leg and waking her with a shiver.  Gone was the sumptuous heat of Maximillion’s chest against her back.  Gone were the protective arms that promised protection and safety.

Zalphia bolted into a sitting position.  The dancing flames had long since faded, leaving only blackened rocks and ash where the comfort of the fire had been.  She scanned the banks of the stream and trampled grass around the bed then peered into the shadows of the trees.  Max was nowhere to be seen.  Another shiver rocked her, but this one had nothing to do with the air or dewy ground.  His absence sent fear clawing at her gut and shook her confidence.  Had they been discovered?

The solitary log they’d sat on earlier drew her attention.  Something lay spread across rounded wood.  For a moment, curiosity drove her from the protection of the bearskins.  What was this?

She crawled over, careful to remain as quiet as possible.  Now she saw the knife sitting against the far side of the felled trunk and let out a sigh.  Max wouldn’t have left without his weapon.  If there had been a fight, she was sure the knife wouldn’t be lying exactly where he so carefully placed it last night.

She stood, her head cocked to one side as she studied two pieces of hide.  Where had these come from?  Picking one of the strange garments up, she held it out, turned it over in her hands, and took it in from every angle.  One end was large and open, and opposite was a smaller opening.  Just under the small hole and off to each side sat two even smaller openings.  This reminded her of the clothing Platy called dresses.  But this was too short to be a dress, and Zalphia had never worn anything like this.

She tossed the hide back onto the log and picked up the other piece.  Now this, this she had no clue about. It also boasted one end completely open, but the sides were closed.  A split ran up the middle on the bottom, forming two pieces that were about ten-inches long.  She laid the garment next to its partner and scanned the area for her familiar Glad garb.  She knew how to wear that and was comfortable in it.

A deep rumbling chuckle sounded from behind her.  She leapt over the log, grabbed the knife, and whirled around.

“Whoa, there.”  Maximillion held his hands in front of him.  “No need for that.”

Zalphia rolled her eyes.  “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Could not help myself.”

She threw the knife’s blade into the ground.  “What’s so funny?”

“You and your cluelessness at how to don simple clothing.”

“Simple?”  Zalphia waved a hand over the hides spread before her.  “How you consider these simple is beyond me.  Where’s my gear?”

Maximillion shook his head.  “Long gone.  You will never wear the Glad gear again.  Fighting is man’s work.  Women are to be cherished and protected.”

“But I thought we were to lead a rebellion?”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling.  “All in good time.  But for now, we must get you cleaned up.”

In the light of day, he looked so different.  Or did she see him differently?  The arena dust that still clung to her skin no longer lightened his.  She thought yesterday that he was dark, but now his skin rivaled what remained in the fire pit.  His eyes stood out like the midday sky, lighter blue than she remembered from last night.  She even misjudged his height.  She fit neatly between his pecks and didn’t reach the top of his shoulder.

“Cleaned up?” She studied the mirth dancing deep in his eyes.

“You know, take a bath?”

Zalphia’s brow furrowed.  “A bath?”  She’d used pails of water to wash what she could from her exposed skin, but a bath?

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, his chest again vibrating in a soft chuckle.  “Yes, you know, washed with water and untangling that mop you call hair.”

She was still pondering what he meant when he scooped her up, took her to the stream, and dumped her in.  Sputtering, she stood in the icy water and glared at him.

“The cold is easier to take all at once than if you go little by little,” he said as he waded in beside her.

“I see you don’t mind taking it easy.”

“I already bathed this morning.” 

Standing perfectly still, she watched as he took a small hard stone and rubbed it across her forearms.  The stone left a film that bubbled like water being poured into a bucket. This simple act sent shivers up her spine, and every inch of skin longed to feel his gentle touch. 

As if sensing her thoughts, he stopped, took a step back, handed her the stone, and again his right hand reached into the pouch at his waist.

“What is this?”

“Soapstone.  It is not very comfortable, but it cleans well. Rub it on your skin until it forms a lather.” 

“Lather?”

“The bubbles and the film.”

Zalphia nodded.  “Oh, I see.”

Maximillion remained a few feet away, but refused to watch as she rubbed the strange stone over every inch of her.  Then she crouched in the water and rinsed off the film.  As she rose, she could tell that he was looking.  Heat burned up her chest and spread to her cheeks.  How was it that her skin reacted the moment his gaze rested on her?  She turned and held the stone out to him. 

Stepping closer, his fingertips brushed against her palm as he whisked the soapstone from her hand.  Her skin prickled at the sensation.  What she wouldn’t give to have that hand wrap around her waist, lift her back into his arms, and hold her close.

A lopsided grin spread to his eyes.  “Now, your hair.”

He massaged the stone into her wet strands, gently working through the knots with his fingers until they no longer caught, then helped her rinse the bubbles away.  By this time, the cold water had numbed everything below her waist.

Maximillion gathered her into his arms, hugging her shivering body against the warmth of his massive chest.  She nestled closer.  His breathing quickened.  And the pounding of his heart bumped against her shoulder.  Her lips curled into a smile, and she hid it against his skin.  Knowing that his body reacted to her closeness thrilled her. 

Taking her back to the bearskins, he laid her down and gently covered her up.  “Stay in there.  The hides will pull the water away and warm you up.  I will get you something to eat, then we will get you dressed.”

“I think I can figure out how to dress myself,” she snapped.

His lips pressed together, forming a grim line, and shock shone in his eyes. 

Pain pierced her, right at the breastbone for insulting this gentle giant of a man.  He hadn’t done anything to deserve her speaking so harshly, yet she inflicted a wound as surely as if she had sliced him with a blade.

“I’m sorry.” She dipped her chin to her chest, her eyes refusing to meet his.  “You’re right. I don’t know how to put them on.”

A stroke from his thumb across her cheek brought her gaze back to those fluid eyes.  He smiled.  And just like that, all was forgiven.

Zalphia marveled at how quickly his mood changed.  Platy would have struck her for such an outburst, but not Max
.  Hmmm
.   Max.  She liked the shortened version of his name.

“Then call me Max,” he said as he handed her one of the large hunks of meat he’d set out to cook during the night. 

“All right, Max.”  It sounded even better spoken aloud.

Zalphia sat up and chewed on the meat.  Then she noticed everything was gone.  All the rest of the meat, the deer hide, and anything else that gave any indication they had been there except the burned-out fire, the bearskin, and of course the knife she’d left poking out of the ground. How long had he been awake before she finally rose?

She wolfed down the meat while the skin warmed her to the core.  When she’d finished, she stood.

Max retrieved the garments from the log, and she stood before him.  His jaw muscles bulged in a quick rhythm as he held out the one resembling a dress. 

“Raise your arms,” he commanded. 

She complied, and he slipped the dress-like garment over her arms and head then pulled it down.  His hand lingered for a moment at the curve of her waist before straightening the bottom out. 

The second garment he held in front of him and motioned for her to step into it.  She complied.  He slid the skin up her legs and over her rounded bottom.  At the same time, he sucked in a quick breath and shuddered.  For a moment, he closed his eyes.  Then seeming to gain control, he finished pulling it up before tying a strip of hide around her waist.

He held a second strip of hide with a pouch and sheathed knife attached which he slipped under the top garment, slid the ends through two slits just above the bottom, and tied them in
front of her stomach.  Groping with her fingers, she finally worked the pouch loose so she could see it.  She loosened the strings that held the mouth closed.  Inside sat a narrow, hollow stick and a handful of sharpened twigs.  She reached for one of them, but Max grabbed her hand.

A quick gasp escaped her lips.

“Do not touch the sharpened end.”

She studied the contents of the pouch.  All the small darts were laid side by side with the points together.

“Each sharpened end contains poison,” Max said. 

“Poison?  What’s it for?”

Max took a similar pouch and stick from his own clothing.  “Come. Watch.”  He crept into the trees, silent as a speck of dust dancing in the sunlight. 

Zalphia followed close behind.  Even here, amidst the trees and undergrowth, he remained calm and unaffected by all that seemed strange and foreign to her.  Now he was sharing more of himself that she hadn’t glimpsed on her trip into his memories.  

Sliding one sharpened twig into the hollow stick, he then crept into the thick brush with her close on his heels.  His hand rose. Freezing mid-stride, she looked where he pointed but saw nothing. 

She shrugged.

He motioned toward a clump of brush beside one of the towering trees. 

There, crouched in front of the foliage, sat a strange creature with ears as long as its body.  The animal rose up on its back legs and sniffed the air.  Max raised the stick to his mouth and blew.  The small twig sailed through the air and hit the animal.  It jumped straight up, took two hops, and fell over.

Zalphia took a step back.  “What is this strange magic?” she asked.

“Not magic, poison.  Each twig will cause the one pricked by it to be frozen for many moments.  That gives you time to kill your prey or get away from those who might be hunting you.  But if you prick yourself, you will be the one unable to move.”

She surveyed the contents of her own pouch, wondering when she would get the chance to use these.  Would she be able to hit a target like Max did?

“Not to worry,” he said, resting his hand on her shoulder.  “In time you will be as proficient as I.  You have the instinct of a hunter, so this will not be difficult.”

She pulled the strings tight and returned her pouch to its place on the strip of hide.

“Max, you have so many strange things.  How do you know all this?”

He retrieved his twig from the creature and returned it to his own pouch.  Looking toward the sky, he sighed then his blue eyes met hers.  “I told you. Simeon, the Elder from Selestia, taught me what I know about reaching into people’s minds, and about you and our mission.  But this!”  He held up his pouch.  “This I learned from my human father.”  He replaced it on the tie at his waist.

“Your human father?”

“Yes.  You see, we are not like the others in this world.   You and I came from the same place as the Elders, the Selestial sphere.”

“The what?”

“Selestia.  The Selestial sphere.  Have you never even heard of it?”

She shook her head.   

“We were sent to end the terror here, but you were lost before we could be together.” 

So many things were different about him.  He knew things, could do things she’d never imagined.  And yet, the two of them shared the same mind powers.  Although he seemed much more competent at using them than she.

He tilted his head to one side.  “You do not understand because you were lost.  Simeon said this would be so.  He told me how to rescue you.  And now that I accomplished it, we will end what this has become.”  He swept his hand wide.

“This?”

“This world.  This place has not developed as it should.  You have much to learn before we can combine and overcome.”

She’d never heard of things like he talked about.  Other spheres. Missions.  Rebellion.  Would she ever understand?  Right now, it didn’t matter whether she did or not.   Something inside spread calm and comfort from head to toe.  He would show her, teach her.  And she would learn all he wanted her to.  She desired to experience everything he showed her in the arena.  She’d give anything, do anything, to have that with him.  Her Maximillion.  The man who saved her.  She liked him.  No.  What had he said?

She
loved
him.

He lifted her hand and threaded his fingers through hers.  “Come, we must erase our presence and move on.”