Do Or Die [Nuworld 4]
Read Do Or Die [Nuworld 4] Online
Authors: Lorie O'Claire
NUWORLD:
DO OR DIE
Lorie O’Clare
Chapter One
Ana adjusted her long black cloak. She straddled her glider and looked down on
the town of Mogsven. Knots formed in her stomach, and dampness spread over her
palms, inside her gloves.
None of her companions would know she was nervous, though. That would be the
end of her. Too much was at risk, and she had enough training to maintain a calm
stance, even when the last thing she felt was calm.
They were the she-witches, sometimes referred to as she-Runners. If a she-witch
walked down the street, anyone passing them cowered out of the way or moved to the
other side of the street. She-witches were evil, they used Nuworld to devise magic and
control what they could.
Many were decent warriors. They allowed their victims to believe they were
members of the deadly Runner race and also in possession of magic, conjured up to suit
their needs. Neither was true, but Ana saw how the fallacies enabled the she-witches to
manipulate the ignorant into doing what they wanted.
The she-witch dressed in black. Their outfits were often made of the same
bulletproof cloth the Runners used, when they could get their hands on that ever-
coveted material. If they couldn’t, they wore black leather pants and black blouses.
Long black capes covered their outfits. A skintight head covering was attached to the
cape. It covered the hair and came down over their face, with holes cut in the material
for their eyes. The material ended right above their noses allowing their mouths, chins
and necks to be exposed.
“We’re going to keep this simple.” Lara, their leader, focused her gaze on the small
community spread out at the bottom of the hill. “The town will leave us alone, of that I
have no worries. We’ll find their tavern, and I’ll meet our man.” She chuckled softly, a
sound Ana had grown to view as pure evil. “Then, sisters, it’s off to the fools’ festival.”
Ana accelerated slowly down the grassy hill, along with the others. Their long black
capes flew behind them, painting impending doom along the streets as they drove.
Townsfolk stopped what they were doing, watching solemnly as they drove by. Ana
knew most of them feared the evil magic the she-witch bragged of possessing. She
could tell by the faces of a few who appeared disgusted at the sight of them, that they
feared more the potential illegal activity that seemed to occur whenever she-witches
entered a town.
Ana, daughter of Lord Darius, Lord of Gothman, and Lady Tara, leader of all
Runner clans, enjoyed the age of searching. As the new winter approached, she knew her
time for exploring was drawing to a close.
Less than a cycle ago, after returning from the Blood Circle Clan to her home in
Bryton, she’d overheard her papa talking to Gilroy.
Their conversation hadn’t been the first thing she’d noticed, however. Gilroy had
caught her eye immediately. He was by far the best-looking Gothman in all of Bryton,
more than likely, in all of Nuworld.
The man stood almost an inch taller than her papa. Ana felt safe to say there was no
clothing made that his broad muscles couldn’t be seen through. He was solid iron,
confident in his stance, and loyal to a fault. Her papa had recently made him
commander of the Lord Darius’ army. In fact, he was the youngest Gothman to ever
secure that title.
No, their conversation wasn’t the first thing she noticed. She’d walked around the
side of the house and saw that inky black hair, windblown from the frosty day, and
then those sky-blue eyes that laughed at something her papa said. That was what first
caught her attention. That and the way his giant body, so perfectly toned for battle,
stood poised against the small shed behind her house.
As she focused on the man who asked to claim her when she had only sixteen
winters, she then began to hear their conversation. Darius was talking about Gilroy’s
claim on her. She stopped walking when she realized what her papa was saying, then
deliberately walked slowly through the yard, wandering toward the back door to the
house, but wanting to hear what her papa had to say.
“She’ll have twenty-one winters at new winter, she will. I daresay it will be a
perfect time for the announcement that Ana has returned to her people. She started the
age of searching early for a Runner. Yes, and even her mama agrees she should start
focusing on her duties to the Runner nation, she should.”
“If it’s all right with you then, my lord, I’ll bring this up to her myself.” Gilroy’s
baritone was barely audible from the other side of the large yard. She strolled as slowly
as she dared, focusing on her boots as she walked and straining to hear what she could.
“The second she knows, she’ll flee again. I’d like to keep her here for a while.”
“Ah, lad, get her pregnant and we won’t have to worry about her taking off again,
we won’t.”
Ana’s heart jumped into her throat. Had her papa just said that? Of course, that’s
how he would think. A good Gothman kept his claim under tight rein. She knew her
papa attempted to guide her brother and Gilroy on how to do this. That was a joke.
Everyone knew Lord Darius had the most uncontrollable claim in all of Gothman.
“That wouldn’t be a problem if she’d quit taking those anti-conception pills.”
That was all she heard as she reached the back door and disappeared into the
house. She chuckled to herself about the fact that she’d just returned from the Blood
Circle Clan site after receiving her dose of anti-conception medication for the next six
cycles.
Well, dear Gilroy, that idea of yours won’t work. She smiled at the thought.
Ana didn’t possess the willful personality of her mama. When Gilroy told her to do
something, she found herself doing it. The only thing she had mastered during the
winters he had been by her side was to do what she wanted before he second-guessed
her actions. Once she officially lived with him as his claim she knew she’d never take
the anti-conception pills again.
The next morning, she had left Gothman and headed north without saying goodbye
to anyone.
Ana pointed with her gloved hand at the last establishment on the street.
She gestured to the others with her. “There’s the tavern.”
“Excellent.” Lara pulled to the side of the street, parking her glider right in front of
the door to the bar. “Pul-rah, She-rah, you two stay out here with the gliders. An-nea,
you and Shara come with me.”
Ana had adopted the Norther name of An-nea when she introduced herself to Lara.
There was no way she would let these women know her true identity. They were
criminals. Ana knew Lara had some scheme up her sleeve that involved the Northers.
Ana had to provide a believable story in order to be allowed to join their group. Of
course, once Lara learned of Ana’s incredible warrior skills, she kept Ana by her side.
The three women walked with an air of mystery into the predominantly male-
occupied drinking establishment. Their long capes made gentle swooshing sounds as
they walked, and their black boots tapped quietly on the wooden floor. Several men
quickly left their tables and then the bar, edging a wide circle around the women. Ana
caught Lara smiling at them mischievously.
Lara sat at a table recently vacated. “Ale for us,” she shouted, and the bartender
jumped to see to her order.
Ana sat next to Lara and leaned back in her chair. She swung her long, thin legs up
to rest on the table, crossing her ankles. The bar was dimly lit and smelled of stale ale
and body sweat. Two overweight Northers eyed them from the other end of the bar,
and Ana guessed they were the contacts. The men whispered to each other, while
eyeing the women cautiously.
Lara leaned her head back, appearing to speak to the ceiling. “I don’t have all day.”
The two overweight men approached their table at the same time the bartender
walked around the counter carrying a tray with three mugs.
“You are late.” The man who spoke wore the traditional animal skin clothing of the
Norther. A large, silver fur coat hung to his ankles making him appear bigger than he
probably was.
“So go home.” Ana tried to look bored, cocking her head to see around her boots
and get a better look at the unshaven face of the large man.
Lara laughed and slapped Ana’s leg. “An-nea doesn’t have much use for men when
it comes to conversation.”
Ana gave her what she hoped was a conspiratorial grin.
“Did you bring them?” the man asked.
Butterflies danced in Ana’s gut. This was what she wanted to hear. She hadn’t
dared to ask about the details of their mission. She guessed Lara transported stolen
goods. She knew the woman possessed no real magic, but conducted her business
through fear and manipulation. Nonetheless, Ana figured patience was the only way
she’d know Lara’s secrets.
“Everything you asked for is here.” Lara lowered her voice. “We’ll set up camp
outside Mogsven to the east. Come find us tonight and we’ll take care of the details.”
“Our boss is incredibly excited about this. I’m sure he’ll want to do it again.” The
man glanced from Lara to Ana.
“Of course he will.” Lara downed her cup of ale and then turned to Ana. “We’ll just
have to decide if we want to travel this far again, right, my sister? The fools’ festival
comes first.”
Ana leered at her and then offered what she hoped was a rather seductive look at
the two grotesque men. They grumbled awkwardly and slid their chairs back.