The Empires by David F. Farris

Author:David F. Farris [Farris, David F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-23T22:00:00+00:00

43

Collision Course

Kadlest could see the infatuation oozing out of Mendac every time he looked at Rhyparia. His attitude toward the Archain may have had everyone else fooled, but not Kadlest, who had known the man for what he was. He was currently working his relationship with Rhyparia with a surgeon’s steady hand, cutting slowly and precisely with a fine scalpel. The poor woman had no clue that she was on her way to being used just like Kadlest and Apoleia. Kadlest supposed she could have told her the truth, but it would have been her word against his—a battle she’d likely lose considering the good terms Rhyparia and Mendac were on. The only person Kadlest got to spend time with in the Empire was Mendac. Nobody else paid her any mind. She wandered the grounds of the Labyrinth like a ghost, incapable of penetrating its black walls.

With such a lack of communication and human interaction, she was losing grasp of her identity. She didn’t know if it was a natural development or something about the Labyrinth’s atmosphere. When she was alone, there were times she didn’t know where she was or why she was here. Mendac’s existence slipped from her mind at times, sometimes requiring his physical presence to remind her. And as silly as it sounded, she had to look down at her body to confirm she wasn’t disappearing.

Rhyparia and Mendac were training in a grassy field surrounded by the Labyrinth on all four sides. Kadlest watched from a bench at the edge, particularly invested in the presence of four others. A man with a grated mask, oily skin, and unkempt hair stood by Rhyparia and Mendac, critiquing certain aspects of their fighting techniques. Another pair fought on the opposite side of the field: a woman with a crown of frozen horns growing beneath her hair and a man who had cloned himself multiple times over. The final presence was a deformed man more akin to a corpse than a living person, half his face gone and a hole in the back of his head. He stood to the side. From what Kadlest could decipher in his one good eye, he was focused on Mendac, but she never saw him fight.

She sniffed, curious, then tilted her head. The stench of death must have been coming from him. If she hadn’t been used to the smell from the hordes of corpses she’d been around in her life, she would have likely retched.

Rhyparia went flying backward, screaming as she hit the ground and rolled. Mendac stood several paces away, a fist extended. He wasn’t holding back, and Rhyparia was hopeless against it. She pushed herself to a stand, unfazed. It didn’t matter how many times he bested her, she went back for more, feeding off the frustration of inferiority. But she respected him for not treating her like a child. He didn’t pull his punches or weaken his clout because he knew that would only make her hate him, and Kadlest knew he was in the process of drawing Rhyparia in.

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