A novel by Meredith Skye

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Koethe's guards dragged Morrhan back to a hastily constructed cement bunker, the kind that the Chanden used for war. Koethe followed them, scowling darkly. The walls were lined with crates of supplies and a few bunks were spread out in the large room.

"Where is my daughter?" demanded Koethe. She had just walked out into a sandstorm after giving both the Chanden and the Garrans ultimatums.

"I have nothing to do with this. She is in the control of the god-stone," insisted Morrhan.

"Then tell me how to reverse it."

"I don't know!" insisted Morrhan.

"Show him we mean it," said Koethe coldly.

One of the guards pulled out a black nightstick and began beating Morrhan with it. The man hit him on the shoulder and the arms. Then he butted him in the stomach with it, leaving Morrhan winded.

"Well?" asked Koethe.

"I have nothing to hide!" said Morrhan. "I've told you everything." By now he was on his knees. His hands were still cuffed behind his back.

Koethe brooded on this a moment. "You are of a southern tribe ... the Sand Plain Clan? Am I right?"

Morrhan looked up at him, wondering what treachery Koethe was planning.

"You value your family?" Koethe said thoughtfully. With that, he turned and strolled towards the door. "Loosen his tongue," was all he said as he left.

Together, the three guards surrounded Morrhan. One of them pulled him to his feet. Unsteady, Morrhan tried to moved away from them, but one of them grabbed him and threw him headlong into the cement wall.

With his hands cuffed behind him, Morrhan had no way to break his fall. He hit the wall and fell, to the laughter of the men. "You seem a little imbalanced," one of them said. They got him back up. Someone turned him around abruptly and another man punched him in the stomach. Morrhan doubled over in pain, landing on his knees. For a moment, he felt nauseated.

"Can't seem to keep on your feet," said another.

Morrhan's mind raced. What had Koethe meant about his family being valuable? They still had Rheggi and Sindke. Would they harm them? Kill them?

Someone kicked him from behind and Morrhan fell face first to the ground. He lay there, almost glad to be on the ground again. But soon they pulled him back up to his feet.

"You should tell them what they want to know," said another guard.

"I can't—" The man punch Morrhan in the face, sending him reeling backwards to the ground. A few tears escaped Morrhan. Soon, they lifted him back to his feet.

"Please!" cried Morrhan.

"What's the matter?" asked one of the guards. "He's crying!" They all laughed.

"We're just getting warmed up," said another as he hit one shin and then the other with his nightstick.

Morrhan wasn't sure how much time passed—at least 20 minutes or more. He was exhausted by the time Koethe returned. The men stood at attention and Morrhan slumped to his knees.

Koethe towered over him.

"I'm through playing games with you, Garran," spat Koethe. "It's time you cooperated."

"No," said Morrhan stubbornly. "I don't think so." The beating had only served to harden him to Commander Koethe and his gang.

Koethe nodded to Captain Fauke, who disappeared from the doorway a moment.

A moment later, a young girl appeared in the doorway, still dressed in native clothes.

"Morrhan!" she exclaimed. It was his little sister, Crysethe.

"Crysethe!" shouted Morrhan. She was alive!

"Why are his hands bound?" frowned Crysethe. Koethe set a gentle hand on her shoulder. "What are you doing to him?" she demanded, her eyes flashed.

"Your brother is angry with me," said Koethe. "But now that you're here, maybe we will all get along better." Koethe smiled down at the girl. She only glared at him.

"You see," said Koethe to Morrhan. "I'm keeping her safe for you. You do want me to continue to do that, don't you?"

"You would threaten a child!" asked Morrhan, shaken.

"As if you're any better! I saw what you did in Hobset!"

Morrhan stared up at him in anger. "I had nothing to do with that attack!"

"You were there," said Koethe, his eyes hard.

They stared at each other. Morrhan had no argument for that. He would have followed his father into battle. Was Morrhan no better than the Chanden? He thought back to the Chanden factory worker his clan had captured. He'd stood by while they slaughtered him and two other innocent Chanden. He should have done something. Said something.

Morrhan despaired.

"And you have my daughter!" shouted Koethe, stepping forward angrily. Koethe glanced at the other officer. "Captain Fauke, return our guest to her accommodations."

"Yes, sir," the man said, gently herding Crysethe out of the room. Morrhan glared at his captor.

"Now, you will tell me everything you know about this," said Koethe, more calmly. "How can I reclaim my daughter?"

Morrhan took a long, deep breath. What else could he do? "It cannot be reversed," said Morrhan, "not in any way that I know of. If she refuses to blend with the gods, they will drive her mad until she dies and then they will be free to merge with another."

"If we destroy the stone, then would that free her?" asked Koethe.

Morrhan hesitated. "I don't know."

"Beat him," said Koethe.

"No, no. Wait!" begged Morrhan, already exhausted. "I'm not sure, but I don't think it will help."

"But it might."

Morrhan stared at him. "The stone no longer matters; the transfer has taken place. Asta is changed. There is nothing that you can do for her now."

"Nothing?" asked Koethe, his voice hard.

Morrhan felt a sense of panic. He didn't want them to harm his sister. "The Borrai lived among us for a millennia. In many ways, they were like every other man. I think that when the conflict is over, and the need for the Borrai is lessened, she will become herself again."

"I will have my daughter back," said Koethe angrily. "Sooner, rather than later. You will tell me what to do."

"I cannot," said Morrhan. "There's no cure, I told you! You only have to wait."

"Unacceptable," said Koethe. He nodded to the men and they pulled out their sticks, moving closer to Morrhan. One yanked him to his feet.

Morrhan groaned.

Just then, the door opened and a man hurried over to Koethe. "Sir," he said. "General Godwin requests you to come at once, sir."

"Can't it wait?" asked Koethe. "Asta's life is at stake!"

"No, sir. They need you."

Koethe swore and accompanied the man. "I'll be right back. Wait for me," said Koethe. The guards stood there, three or four of them, looming over Morrhan with their sticks. They looked like they would prefer to continue without Koethe, but still they waited. One gave Morrhan a kick for good measure.

Morrhan caught his breath and tried to ignore the pain he felt all over his body. Something had gone wrong. Were the gods taking vengeance? Would they wipe out the Chanden? Morrhan found himself wishing that they would. But if so, would they spare the Garrans that lived among them? Would innocent people die?

The guards waited patiently, sticks in hand.

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