The Power of a Few

Past ~ 11

   Sree pulled her hood tighter over her dark hair.

   What did I do? She thought.

   The currents gently swayed the boat under her. It rocked gently, enticing her thoughts to surge within. 

   After leaving the city (and almost getting caught seven times), her father had bribed a squat man for a ride across the river. The man had agreed, grudgingly. 

   Sree glanced at him as he rowed. His tanned arms worked methodically. Back and forth, back and forth. The repetition appeased the tumult raging inside of her. The water coursed quietly. Dusk settled in, bringing coolness that soothed Sree's burning skin.

   The city had been rough on her. The heat. The people. The sounds. All of it. It was a sensory overload for her and now she welcomed the silence of night. She breathed a sigh of relief as cool water splashed on her bare feet. 

   Across from her sat Myra, fast asleep. U'ralli had taken its toll on her too. Sree gently brushed away a few strands of hair from her sister's face and smiled at her. She was so brave, something Sree strived for, but lacked. She leaned back onto her bag and tried recalling the events in the marketplace, but most of it was fuzzy. She remembered Myra walking up to the book merchant. The scraggly boys in the shadows. Then... From there the lines blurred. Next thing Sree remembered was standing in the center of a crowd, Myra holding her shoulders. She remembered... fear in the peoples' eyes. 

   God, she prayed, help me. Please. 

   The memories caused her hands to quiver. She gripped them. A shaky breath escaped from her lips. The dead weight of failure pressed on her shoulders and her thin frame sagged lower. 

   I could have killed someone. The thought ravaged her mind. Over and over it echoed in her head, whispering terrible things. 

   You're a failure. It said. Your gifts are a mistake.

   No. She corrected. They were given to me.

   By who? The voice challenged.

   Sree's heart pounded. Who had given her these powers? Wasn't it God? Or... was she cursed? Had she been touched by the... Evil One? Is that where her dream came from?

   She shuddered and pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Suddenly the night was viciously cold. The darkness seemed threatening. Had the river always been this murky? Sree leaned over the water to peer deeper.

   Was there something down there? Waiting to come up and snatch h—

 Sree screamed in terror as she fell over the side of the boat and into the dark water below.

                                                        .               .                 .

   Zalon woke in his bed.

   He closed his eyes slowly and opened them again. 

   "Merian—" He fell off into a fit of coughing as his voice cut off. He was too busy coughing to notice a swift patter of feet. 

   "Take this, my prince." A small voice said.

   Zalon opened his eyes to a cup of crystal water. He grabbed the cup and gulped it down. The cool liquid rushed down his throat, calming the itch of thirst but not satisfying it completely. He was handing the cup back when he noticed who had handed it to him. 

   A boy, about the same age as himself, with curly brown hair and bright silver eyes. 

   "Who are you?" asked Zalon. "Where is Merianda?"