“You wouldn’t want to play poker against me, I’d know when you’re bluffing.”
“What’s poker?”
“A card game,” I reply, looking up at him. His hand brushes my hair again, tucking it behind my ear.
“Diverting?” He takes my hand in his.
“Lucrative…I can earn a stack doing it. I just can’t let anyone suspect that I’m playing them, not the cards,” I explain, allowing him to lead me as we begin to walk again.
“That sounds dangerous,” he says.
“Depends on who gets played.”
“Can you predict the outcome? What card will be laid next?” he asks, stepping over rocks and helping me traverse them.
“I don’t know…” I answer, thinking.
“You’re young…I wonder what else you’ll be able to do,” he says offhandedly.
“You think there will be more?” I feel my heart race.
“I wouldn’t bet against it,” he answers, but seeing me drop my chin in fear, he quickly changes the subject. “We need to keep moving. Jax and Wayra will scout the territory west, looking to pick up our trail. They’re probably ahead of us now, but when they don’t find our trail, they’ll double back.”
Moving quietly together, Trey and I make it to a precipice where uneven, moss-covered limestone overlooks a spectacular view of a valley below. As we near the edge of the crag, my breath catches in my throat as decaying skyscrapers appear below us. Hollow frames with crushed and fallen-in rooflines scatter the horizon like some ancient civilization long abandoned.
“What’s this?” I ask, feeling goose bumps rising on my arms.
“Amster. Some people refer to it now as the ‘Amster Rushes,’ because the ruins look like the stems of plants growing in a wetland. It was a great city a century ago,” he says.
“Looks like it has hit a recession,” I reply, rubbing my arm with my hand.
“Its demise was not brought on by any economic force…it was a pandemic that destroyed this city…and just about every other city in Ethar a thousand years ago.”
“A plague?” I repeat, as a shiver runs through me, while following him along the rocky path.
“Yes, things changed here very quickly. It’s reported that the virus, named ‘Black Math,’ developed into a pandemic in less than two rotations. Incubation of the disease was rapid—less than a rotation from contracting it until it annihilates the person’s vital organs.”
“How many people did it kill?” I ask, horrified.
“Billions. I don’t know the exact death toll, but it nearly wiped out the entire population.”
My jaw hangs open for a moment. “It almost killed everyone?”
Trey nods sadly. “We have a cure for it now and we have laws.”
“Laws?” I ask, not knowing what laws will do to stop a pandemic.
“Yes. We strive to maintain a balance on Ethar now. We try to control ourselves. We don’t pollute the environment which will cause microorganisms to mutate and wipe us out.”
“You think something like that can be controlled through environmental precautions?”
“It’s a start,” he replies. “In the wake of the pandemic, the five houses of Ethar developed from the survivors.”
“What are the names of the five houses?” I see light dawning on the horizon and shining on the rusty skeletons of the Amster Rushes.
“Rafe, Alameeda, Comantre, Peney, and Wurthem,” he states, pulling his night-vision glasses from his face.
“Who’s the most powerful?” I ask, seeing him grin. I pull my glasses off as well, handing them back to Trey who pauses to put them in his bag.
“You have to ask?”
“I mean, besides us?” I roll my eyes. He pauses, looking at me and taking my hand again.
His smile deepens. “Finally,” Trey mutters.
“Hmm?” I ask, confused as he squeezes my hand.
“You said, ‘us,’” Trey replies, his eyes softening in the corners.
“I did?” I stiffen. “Well, I meant to say, ‘besides Rafe.’”
“But you said ‘us’ instead,” he replies triumphantly, causing a small smile to twist my lips. We begin walking again while his smile only broadens.
“Fine,” I mutter, “besides us.”
“Alameeda is as large as us and their technology is keeping pace with ours. The other houses are smaller. They’re all powerful in their own ways, though.”
“So, our ally is Comantre. Who aligns with Alameeda?”
Trey’s eyebrows rise. “You don’t act your age. You ask questions that I’d expect from someone older than you.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Really? Don’t be too awed by the profundity of my mind. I just find it important to know where everyone stands. I hate stepping on land mines. It’s messy.”
“The Alameeda are aligned with the Wurthem Clan,” he replies, looking serious. “Making them the largest in numbers.”
“What about Peney?”
“They like to remain neutral.”
“Ahh, they’re Switzerland,” I muse. “You said that together, Alameeda and Wurthem are the largest? How large?” I wonder, trying to gauge if we’re talking a population like China or something like the US.
“Together, they have a population a little smaller than Chicago,” Trey replies, and then he pauses when I stop walking beside him.
“What?” I breathe.
“Alameeda has almost a million citizens—Wurthem is a couple of hundred thousand short of that. They’re big, but…”
“Trey…if they’re the biggest, then that means there are less than five million people on Ethar,” I breathe. “That’s…”
“Black Math,” he replies grimly. “Now you see why it’s important that we don’t allow humans to become aware that we exist? We have more advanced technology than humans, but they’d have sheer numbers.”
“And your defense department—Skye—doesn’t like those odds?”
“No, especially not when coupled with Alameeda’s recent aggression. We don’t need problems with humans, too.”
“Alameeda is causing trouble?”
“The Alameeda Brotherhood is no longer adhering to our global treaties and laws. You just witnessed their airspace violations first hand.”
So...the Brotherhood is like Skye?”
“Not exactly. Rafe divides power mainly between Skye and our monarch, which is the Regent. That’s not the case with the Brotherhood; they’re the ruling faction. Period. There are at any one time around twenty males from the most powerful Alameeda families who comprise the Brotherhood.
“Just males?” I ask, wrinkling my nose when Trey nods. “I’m annoyed already.”
“Really? Because it gets worse, these males are bred for the Brotherhood. Whenever a brother is lost, they meet to choose candidates to fill the vacancy.”
“How do they choose?”
“It’s a secret,” Trey smirks.
“And the priestesses?”
“They’re owned by the Brotherhood—controlled by them. Most are given to a Brother as a consort—a wife.”