Free The Journey of the Marked (The Miyran Heir Book 1) by Rebecca P. McCray Page A

She found a small crevice in the wall and
pushed the gem inside. She thought about trying to hide one or two others, but
he would catch her and the punishment would be severe.
    She carried the remaining items
outside and watched while he carefully added them to the bundle in the wagon,
the items he intended to sell. Then, he turned toward her with a sneer. He grabbed
her arm tightly; marks would be left. “I’ll be gone for a few days,” he said
gruffly, shaking her as if that would help her to understand. “You will not
leave this house. If I so much as hear that you wandered off, you’ll be sorry.”
He grabbed her around the throat with his other hand and spoke with soft menace,
“Do you hear me, girl?”
    She nodded and he pushed her away
and into a pile of rocks. When she looked down, her knee was bleeding. She knew
better than to cry.
    “Serves you right, you pathetic brat,”
he sneered.
    He pulled himself onto the wagon
and urged the beast onward. She watched his cart move away, knowing he had left
no food or water in the house. She would have to leave in darkness to find
something to eat. The neighbors loved nothing more than to tell him when she
disobeyed. Still, for a little while, she would have peace.
    Kenrya leaned her head back against
the underground wall. That was the last time she had seen the man. One of the
neighbors had caught her sneaking food from the baker’s shop and most certainly
would have told him. She had fled to the city the same night.
    She released the clasp on a pocket
hidden inside her vest and removed the small red gem. She turned it over
lightly in her fingers, finding comfort in the familiar stone. Many times over
the years, she had tried desperately to remember her parents. All she
remembered was the man. He never allowed her to call him by name and never once
showed her any kindness. Not for the first time, Kenrya felt lost and alone. She
had so many questions she needed to be answered and knew no one she could ask.
    She rubbed a hand across her
forehead and shook off the memories, returning the stone to its secret pocket. Closing
her eyes, she rested her head in her hands.
    After a while, she wiped her hands
over her face and opened her eyes to find Eros squatting across from her. How
long had he been there? His eyes were searching hers with — what was that? Sympathy?
She instinctively pulled back and stood. How dare he?
    She strode away from him toward the
cavern. Daylight began to seep into the underground tunnel and a clear head
would be needed for today’s events. Eros could find his own way back.

Chapter 14
     
    “She was a real pretty little
redhead, sir ... Your Highness ... Majesty,” the man who owned the little
shabby diner explained. He had heard the redhead had escaped the Graeliths the
day before and thought it in his best interests, both physically and
financially, to inform the Tyrnotts. Little did he expect to be brought before
Nord himself! Had he known, he certainly would have worn more proper attire
than his old greasy apron and the shoes with the hole in the toe. He scratched
his balding head, then rested his hands on his round belly.
    “A Krystic, are you sure?” Nord
queried. “They rarely bear the mark and certainly not a female. I fear you are
mistaken, old man.” He stared intently at the man, causing the man’s hands to
shake.
    The diner owner fiddled nervously
with his apron. Tyrnotts weren’t unknown in his part of town, but never before
had he seen so many in one room. Each head held thick, jet-black, straight
hair, long enough to be brushed back into braids or bands, though some wore the
hair loose. Their eyes shone darkly such that he couldn’t distinguish between
the pupil and iris, and the pointed ears stood on each side of the head. He
observed that not a one displayed eyebrows or any other noticeable body hair
besides that on the scalp, which was common among the species. However, the
really unnerving part was the deep scar that