Chapter 10
Ten
Redmon
The forest shadows deepened as I made my way along the hidden path. Dawn was still hours away, and even with my superior night vision, I had to ease through the dense undergrowth. Each step sent small twinges of pain through my still-healing wounds from the challenge fight.
Overhead, the twin moons cast just enough light to illuminate the moss-covered stones marking the trail to Elder Marok's dwelling.
Unlike most tribal elders who lived within our communal caves, Marok had chosen isolation decades ago, retreating to the ancient forest where he could "hear the earth speak," as he put it.
He was also the only elder I trusted completely.
I approached the massive hollow oak that served as his home, noting the soft glow of firelight from within. Before I could announce myself, his gravelly voice called out.
"Either come inside or go away, Redmon. Your pacing disturbs the night birds."
I ducked through the low entrance, my bulk barely fitting through the opening.
Inside, the hollow tree opened into a surprisingly spacious chamber.
Marok sat cross-legged beside a small fire pit, his face illuminated by the dancing flames.
His hide had faded to a pale gray with age, and one eye was clouded white from an old battle wound.
"You look terrible," he observed, gesturing for me to sit.
"I've had better weeks," I admitted, lowering myself carefully to avoid aggravating my injuries.
Marok studied me, his good eye missing nothing. "The challenge fight with the Fanghorn was foolish."
"So I've been told."
"But necessary, perhaps." He prodded the fire with a stick. "The council is in an uproar. Thorne is calling for your removal as war chief."
"Let him try," I growled, though we both knew my position was precarious.
Marok poured a steaming liquid from a clay pot into two rough cups. "You didn't risk everything for a human girl you barely know just to be noble. What's really happening, Redmon?"
I accepted the cup, inhaling the bitter herbal scent. "Something's wrong with the matching system. The forced pairings. I need to understand what's really going on."
"Ah." Marok nodded slowly. "You've begun to ask the dangerous questions."
"Have there been other matches like mine? High compatibility pairs who've been closely monitored?"
The elder sipped his tea, his expression unreadable. "There have been... unusual pairings. Ones that drew special attention from both our council and Magnus Terra."
"How many?"
"Twelve that I know of, over the past five years. All with compatibility ratings above ninety percent."
I leaned forward, ignoring the pull of stitches in my side. "What happened to them?"
"Most live in isolation, like you and your mate. Closely observed." Marok's eye narrowed. "Three couples produced offspring. Those children were taken for 'special education' at age three. Their parents were told it was mandatory under the Accords."
My blood ran cold. "Taken where?"
"A research facility near the old human capital. Supposedly for their protection and development." Marok set down his cup. "None have returned to their parents."
"And the council approved this?"
"The council was informed it was necessary for both our species." His voice turned bitter. "Peace through shared progress, they called it."
I digested this information, anger building in me. "I need to know more about these other pairs. Names, locations."
Marok studied me for a long moment. "Why do you care, Redmon? You've never shown interest in politics beyond what affects our tribe directly."
"Because..." I paused, searching for words that wouldn't sound foolish to the old warrior. "Because Kalyndi deserves better than being an experiment. Because any children we might have deserve freedom, not to be test subjects."
A smile creased Marok's weathered face. "So it's like that, is it?"
I looked away, uncomfortable with his knowing gaze. "Will you help me or not?"
"I'll help." He rose stiffly, moving to a chest carved from a single piece of ancient wood. "I've been tracking the patterns in the matching system for years. Call it an old man's curiosity."
He withdrew a leather-bound journal and handed it to me. Inside were meticulous notes, dates, names, and locations, all written in our traditional script.
"Each pair has specific genetic markers," Marok explained, returning to his seat by the fire. "Different combinations, but always including the rare mutations that appeared after the Great War."
I flipped through the pages, recognizing some names. "Orrick of the Stone Peaks. He disappeared three seasons ago."
"After his mate gave birth to twins." Marok nodded grimly. "The official story was that he died in a hunting accident. The truth? He refused to surrender his children to Magnus Terra. His mate was told he attacked officials and was executed. She believed it."
My hands tightened on the journal. "And the children?"
"Taken. Like all the others."
I continued reading, a pattern emerging from Marok's careful documentation. "These genetic markers, they're being specifically paired. Deliberately matched."
"Yes. The question is why." Marok leaned forward, his voice dropping. "What are they trying to create, Redmon? What power comes from mixing specific bloodlines?"
I had no answer, but dread settled in my stomach like a stone. "I need to copy this information."
Marok shook his head. "Keep the journal. I've memorized everything in it." His good eye fixed on me. "But be careful. Knowledge is dangerous when powerful people want it kept secret."
I tucked the journal into my pouch. "Thank you, old friend."
"Don't thank me yet." Marok's expression turned grave. "There's something else you should know. After your challenge fight, there was a closed meeting between Thorne, the Magnus Terra minister, and several scientists. I couldn't hear everything, but I heard your mate's name. Kalyndi."
My muscles tensed. "What about her?"
"They're planning something. The words 'special testing' were used. And 'tomorrow.'"
I was on my feet instantly, ignoring the pain flaring through my body. "I need to go."
"Redmon." Marok's voice stopped me at the entrance. "Whatever they're planning, it goes beyond a few pairs or even a few children. The resources they're committing, the secrecy is about the future of both our species."
"Then they should have asked, not taken," I growled, ducking out into the night.
I raced through the forest, pushing my wounded body to its limits. The journey that had taken two hours on the way to Marok's took half that time returning, though every step sent pain shooting through my injured side.
Dawn was breaking as our dwelling came into view. I slowed, scanning the area for any signs of Magnus Terra officials or tribal enforcers. The clearing appeared empty, but instinct told me to approach cautiously.
I circled around, using the cover of the trees to reach the back entrance. Inside, I found Kalyndi at the kitchen table, surrounded by papers and a small vial of clear liquid. Her sister Selene was nowhere to be seen.
"Redmon!" Kalyndi jumped up when I entered. "Where have you been? I was worried."
"Getting information," I said, placing Marok's journal on the table. "Where's Selene?"
"Gathering herbs in the garden. I've been teaching her basic remedies." Kalyndi's eyes narrowed as she took in my tense posture. "What's wrong?"
"We may have visitors today. Unwelcome ones." I nodded toward her papers. "What's all this?"
A small smile curved her lips. "I have sources too, you know." She picked up the vial. "This cost me three months' worth of rare medicinals, but it was worth it."
"What is it?"
"Blood. From a technician at the testing facility." She set it down carefully. "He was persuaded to share some information as well."
I stared at her in amazement. "You bribed a Magnus Terra worker?"
"Bribed, blackmailed, same difference." She shrugged, but couldn't hide her proud smile. "He had a gambling problem and a sick mother. I offered a cure for one and relief from the other."
"Kalyndi the healer, resorting to blackmail." My brow lifted as I nodded. "What did you learn?"
She spread the papers before me. "Our matching wasn't random. They've been tracking my bloodline for generations, back to before the Great War. Something about genetic resistance to radiation and cellular degeneration."
I opened Marok's journal, placing it beside her papers. "And my lineage carries markers for enhanced regeneration and adaptive immunity. They're pairing specific genetic traits."
Kalyndi's eyes widened as she scanned the journal. "These other couples... they all have complementary genetic markers. Different combinations, but always paired for specific traits."
"Marok said three pairs have already produced children. The offspring were taken for 'special education' at age three."
Her face paled. "Taken? By force?"
"Yes."
She sat heavily, one hand going protectively to her stomach in an unconscious gesture that made my heart race. "Why would they do this? What do they want from these children?"
I flipped through her papers, stopping at a page of scientific notation I couldn't fully understand. "What's this?"
Kalyndi pulled it closer. "The technician's notes on potential offspring from our pairing.
Based on our genetic profiles, any children we might have would likely possess.
.." She swallowed hard. "Enhanced regenerative abilities, immunity to most toxins, and possibly accelerated healing capacities.
Essentially, they'd be nearly impervious to disease and able to recover from injuries that would kill others. "
"Perfect soldiers," I growled. "Or perfect colonists for the dead zones still contaminated from the war."
"Or both." Kalyndi's voice shook slightly. "The notes mention 'terraforming applications' and 'military potential' in the same paragraph."
I placed my hand over hers. "They won't get the chance. Not with our children."