Change of Darkness (The Change Series Book 3) by Jacinta Jade (best new books to read txt) 📕

the life from Melora not long after … two males in another battle that had looked like brothers, hacking away at each other with their staffs until one had fallen, bleeding, to the ground …

She began to feel lightheaded. Something was wrong with her.

Something was wrong with all of them.

Before her, a shaking Genlie was turning slowly to look at her. ‘Siray … what did we do?’

Images of Genlie battling fiercely before a downed Kovi erupted into Siray’s mind. During the confrontation, she had registered a difference in Genlie’s style of fighting. But now she realised that her friend hadn’t just fought bravely or passionately. She had fought with abandon. Without control or thought for survival. It had been win, or die trying. No middle ground. Genlie had been fuelled by anger. Just as she had.

‘I don’t know,’ she responded quietly to her friend, unable to meet Genlie’s eye as she remembered how she had thought about giving her friend a beating to remind her that you didn’t run from a fight. Siray’s stomach turned again as the captives ahead of her began to file through the exit, and she pivoted slightly away from Genlie.

To look right into Herrin’s expressionless and scarred face.

‘So.’ Herrin was leaning against the wall by the door Siray was about to file through, a particular gleam in his eye. ‘I can see that you’re all finally coming down now. Good thing too—it would be a shame if we lost too many of you tonight.’ He shifted his position slightly and smiled knowingly.

Siray heard Herrin’s words but couldn’t process them, lost as she was in trying to sort out what had happened to her during the fight and why she felt so ill and off-balance now. It was with great relief that she moved through the door behind Genlie and into the tunnel that connected to the yard beyond, away from Herrin’s amused posture.

The captives were subdued as they progressed through the long corridor, their heads bent as each individual contemplated what they had done.

Back in front of the cells, they immediately lined up, waiting for their next orders.

Siray stood blandly looking at the back of Genlie’s head, disgust rising within her at her own lack of control.

‘I assume that Master Herrin made you all work hard today,’ came the voice of Captain Raque. ‘Or is it the drug that’s making you all look so miserable?’ His look of concern was twisted slightly by the slight uptilt of his mouth, although his delighted tone was what really expressed his amusement.

Siray was shocked. They had been drugged?

‘Well, I’m always interested to see if anyone still has any lingering effects in their system. Anyone care to try me?’

Siray held her breath. Surely no one would be so—

‘By the Mother, I’ll drop you like a rilander on a tree,’ came a shout from Siray’s right.

She whipped her head around in time to see a large male charge out from the lines, and she heard someone else hiss after him, ‘Don’t be a fool! Get back here!’

Siray’s jaw actually dropped open as she watched the overeager male sprint straight out at Captain Raque, barely believing that any drug could override sense in such a way. But then a second captive, this time from unit one, gave a shout.

‘Oh, no, you don’t! He’s mine!’ A female streaked out from the lines, also rushing for Raque, her lighter frame allowing her to make up ground behind the large male as they both charged forwards.

Raque’s smile stretched across his face, and he opened his palms outward, inviting anyone else to also step forwards.

Then a small motion drew Siray’s eye. Beside her, Tamot was shaking, his fists clenched.

‘Tamot, don’t,’ she whispered.

He turned to look at her, his expression pained, and Siray caught her breath. She knew that look in his eyes. Knew that despair. He was thinking of Jorgi.

The image of Jorgi’s body sprawled on the ground, the rivulets of blood escaping from beneath his body, loomed in Siray’s mind. Her breathing began to hitch, but she told herself she was fine, that they had a plan, that they would get vengeance, just not this way. She wouldn’t be driven to do something so stupid by a mere chemical.

But then another image popped unbidden into her mind. Deson. His eyes like glass as they stared through her, no longer registering anything in this world.

Anger bloomed cold and hard inside her, an organism that seemed to feed on itself, and she had to dig her fingernails into her own palms for a moment, closing her eyes so she could look at just blackness, focussing on breathing deeply. This new rage, an icy rage, was stronger than the hot anger she had felt earlier that day. As if the drug they had been given, probably in their midday rations, fed on and amplified strong emotion. And there was nothing stronger, or more unshakeable, than anger built on grief.

Siray stood tense and still for a few more breaths as she fought her own body and mind for control. Opening her eyes again, she saw Tamot looking at her, obviously still riding the same edge as the sounds of hand combat broke out. She knew that if one of them gave in, the other would follow.

‘Don’t give in, Tamot,’ she managed to hiss out through her teeth. ‘We’ll get our chance. Remember?’

She hoped he remembered—recalled that they had a plan. Soon they would be out of here. Soon they would be fighting again for the right side. As Deson would want. As Jorgi would want. But they couldn’t do that if they gave in to anger now.

That thought allowed Siray to focus enough that she was able to breathe evenly and finally unclench her fists.

Tamot had apparently watched her silent struggle, and he gave her a reluctant nod. She watched as he, too, slowly relaxed and uncurled his hands. Reaching out to grip his shoulder, partly in support, partly to steady herself, Siray turned her attention back to