Free Prophet of the Badlands (The Awakened Book 1) by Matthew S. Cox Page A

infections and death from even small cuts.
    Because of her, they would suffer.
    Crying, she leaned up to beg Vakkar to stop this; but it was too late. Two raiders roared, facing off in the confines of the peeling amber quadrangle. Sword held high, one charged in behind a shield made of several octagonal pieces of red metal with white letters. The other circled, holding a pair of knives at the ready. An older man at each corner shouted commands and criticisms as the fight progressed. Althea hid her face against Rachel’s shoulder. She knew they were not to kill each other, but she was unwilling to watch violence for which she felt responsible.
    “What is this?” Rachel’s shivering whisper interspersed with the ringing of metal blades.
    “They are training. Later there will be contests of rank.” Zhar explained how the raiders were organized into squads and groups, and leaders had to win their rank in trials by combat.
    Rachel tried to contain her rage. “I can guess why the kid’s here, but what are we doing out here?”
    “Why have pretty pets if you don’t show them off,” Aya said from the other side of the throne as her stretch drew many eyes.
    “I’m not a fucking possession,” Rachel grumbled.
    Zhar tugged at the chain hanging from Rachel’s neck, and dropped it. “You are until you fight your way out.”
    Rachel brimmed with anger and shame.
    The tension between the two grew as taut as the link between Rachel’s wrists until Ramani crawled over to the extent of her leash. She stared at Althea, poised with a strange grin. Something different shone in her eyes; a foreign presence, something other than timid Ramani, stared back at her.
    “There you are… little one.” The voice did not belong to the thin woman; its sultry allure held calm laced with arrogance.
    “Who are you?” Althea’s voice was stern and cold. “Let Ramani go.”
    “That is Ramani.” Zhar shot a quizzical glance at Althea, gazing back and forth between the two for a moment. Something in the slender woman’s eyes unsettled her. “That is Ramani?”
    Ramani looked down at herself and around at the other women. “I think I will make sure these pigs all die for what they are doing to you. Know that friends are coming, little one.” With that, the bony woman shuddered and fell seated, swooning as if drunk.
    “What just happened?” Rachel edged away from everyone, still wringing her hands in an attempt to get loose.
    “Stop that. You’re going to cut yourself.” Althea rubbed the redness out of Rachel’s wrists. “Someone was inside Ramani.”
    “That would be Vakkar.” Zhar laughed.
    Rachel made a disgusted face. “In no world is that funny.”
    Althea frowned at the redhead. “No, a spirit I think… maybe the Ancestor of Mischief.”
    “I felt something cold drift over me a minute before,” said Aya.
    A smile crept over Zhar’s face as she whispered. “Then it is true, the Prophet will bear forth our freedom.”
    A tremendous clang made the women cringe, though Althea shot a blasé glance in the direction. Two different raiders went after each other with swords as long as their height, seemingly made of old flattened and sharpened car parts.
    “Seriously? Goddamn swords! I’m chained by the neck, naked, to the throne of a bandit king while guys are trying to kill each other with medieval weapons.” Rachel shuddered and curled forward. “Please wake up… Please wake up… So help me Hawthorne, if I’m in a fucking sim right now, I am going to rip your balls off.”
    Althea looked away from Rachel, ashamed of her own guilt. She could force Vakkar to free them and he would believe he wanted to for a time, but then he would realize, and then people would know the Prophet could do such things. Then there would always be cages and chains, assuming of course that they did not just kill her out of fear.
    “I’m gonna kill that mother―”
    Althea put her hand over Rachel’s mouth.
    “The child is right,”