Hunter (A Valiant Novel)

Chapter 1

JARED

THE WHIP FLASHED once as it snapped out and lashed my target across the back.

My lips slid up into a devious smile. It was hard enough to knock him down. I slipped the whip back in its place on my belt and looked back up. Novarch had his sword already unsheathed and was holding it against the man's throat.

The man glared up at us as he leaned on his arms for support on the dry, cracked earth. Sweat covered his body, along with thick patches of dirt and grime.

"Your name," Hindah, our second-in-command, demanded.

"Gabriel," the man hissed.

"Age." Hindah sneered down at the prisoner.

"Twenty-four." The man glared up at Hindah as he spoke. Hatred blazed from his dilated eyes.

Hindah glanced at Novarch. "Jared," he called.

I was at his side in an instant.

"You do it," he said, smirking at some joke I didn't get.

Unsheathing my Inquiri blade, I sliced Gabriel's throat without hesitation or regret.

Killing was all I ever knew.

***

A day earlier

AVRELLA

"AVERELLA! I NEED the weeds plucked! If you don't get it finished, then we'll have nothing to eat," my mother called.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, but grudgingly walked outside and knelt beside our garden. It was larger than most of the ones in our village, which was why most of the people traded their items for vegetables from us. They would pay us with what we didn't have—wool for clothes and blankets.

Without even saying a word, my brother Gabriel knelt on my left and began tugging on weeds.

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Gabe, you know you shouldn't be working."

He sighed and plucked a weed, throwing it behind him. "Just because I'm sick doesn't mean I have to lie in bed all day."

"Yes, it does!" I hissed under my breath. If Mother heard... "Working is only going to make your condition worse."

"My condition?"

I sighed and rubbed my eyes. "You know that's not what I meant!"

His eyes softened. "Yeah, I know."

It wasn't often he became angry, and it was even less than that when he held a grudge. Even if someone said anything to offend him. Fortunately, he knew I hadn't meant it, and more than that: he knew I was right.

No one knew much about diseases or how they worked. When anyone became sick, you were just... sick. There was an older woman named Ganna in the village who knew a little about herbs, but that was mostly enough to cure coughing. Anything beyond that and...

You died.

"Where's your mother?" It was our neighbor, Vanese. Her light brown hair was matted, and her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed.

I gestured to the door. "Inside."

She nodded and shoved open the door.

Gabriel and I exchanged a look. "Do you think this means that Matthex was taken?"

He clenched his jaw but stood. As he did, his body collapsed, and his eyes fluttered. As his body twitched and jerked, I held him.

It was all I could do when the fits happened.

My greatest fear was that one day, I would hold him, and the fit would take his life. I constantly prayed to God that it wouldn't happen, that He would protect my brother, but I had no way of knowing if He would answer my prayer. Or if He had a different plan in mind.

Gabriel's eyes rolled back in his head, so I just sat there quietly, hoping and praying.

Later that night, Gabriel was lying in bed asleep. Mother and I knelt by the fire, silent as we tried to keep warm. Nights became cold—eerily cold. The howls and wails from Zagerah could be heard, and I shuddered to think of what horrors were inside the prison.

"Did Matt get taken?" I glanced up from where I stirred the soup.

Mother nodded. "Vanese is a wreck. After her husband was taken two years ago..."

I swallowed. "She has no one."

Mother nodded, running a hand through her thick black hair.

No one knew why the Aretul arrested villagers. They only ever took men and boys, for no reason and at seemingly random. Everyone feared it, but no one could explain it.

Though I would never admit this to Mother, I often went to Ganna, the oldest woman in the village. We spoke for hours on end, about the Aretul, about the legends of Zagerah... About why we were oppressed and why they did this to us.

Her husband had been taken twenty-five years ago. Nine years ago, her son had been taken.

"Why? Why do they take them? They don't even do anything wrong!" I shouted in frustration.

Mother stared at me in horror, before she walked over and smacked my mouth. "Averella! Don't say such things! If they heard you say that, they would kill you."

I glared at her, left the ladle in the pot, and stormed off to my room.

That night my whole world came crashing down.

The Gredi guards of the Aretul stormed inside, knocking things aside, leaving the room cluttered. One of them kicked over the bowl of soup Mother kept warm over the fire. The precious soup formed a puddle on the floor, which another Gredi stepped in.

The Gredi rushed toward Gabriel's room. I charged in that direction, reaching for a sword that had belonged to my father. Before I even had a chance to grab it, the Gredi had me pinned to the ground.

Mother screamed, shoving at one bulky man from what I could see, but two more grabbed her arms. Four more tore the door to Gabe's room off the hinges, dragging Gabriel through the house and out the door.

Mother sobbed hysterically, especially as they dragged us outside to watch them take Gabriel away. I lunged at the men, thrashing and trying to fight them, but they held me back with grips of iron.

Gabriel shook his head at me, wincing as they chained his hands to the creatures they use to drag prisoners to Zagerah. Even as he coughed, and struggled to stay on his feet, they left him there. Despite that his knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the ground, he still held my gaze. I realized what he was trying to tell me: don't do it.

"No! Please, don't... don't take him!" I screamed, violently thrashing against the two men that held me back.

Gabe just met my gaze and smiled.

Then they rode off, taking my brother with them.

"Please, no!"

The image above is the painted scene, which I hired an artist to paint - Lucas Santiago is the artist. 

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