The Wexkia Trilogy: Boxed Set Read online

  THE WEXKIA TRILOGY

  DALE FURSE

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by DCF Books

  The Wexkia Trilogy, Omnibus Edition

  Copyright © Dale Furse 2015

  Cover design by Elona Bezooshko

  Interior layout and formatting by Devina Fowsar

  All characters and events in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or any events past or present are purely coincidental.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  BOOK ONE: CURSE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  BOOK TWO: SECRET

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  BOOK THREE: JUSTICE

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  DEDICATION

  FOR MY MOTHER. I MISS YOU.

  CHAPTER ONE

  STANDING IN THE STIRRUPS AND LEANING FORWARD OVER her horse’s neck, Nell burst from the rainforest. She ignored the scratches on her arms from the bushes. This was her first chance in two years. She was going to beat Sam to the end of the beach.

  She glanced back and grinned. He was nowhere in sight. Urging Shrewdy faster, her hands relaxed on the reins and she kicked the mare on. All she had to do was get through the soft, deep sand and onto the waterline’s hard, packed sand. No horse, not even one ridden by Sam, could catch them.

  About twenty metres from the rainforest, she glanced back again.

  Sam and his brown pony moved like the wind.

  Nell needed to get to the water’s edge as soon as she could. Sam’s horse was faster in the loose sand.

  The earth firmed beneath Shrewdy’s hooves as they raced along the rising tide. Finally, into a full gallop, Shrewdy slowed. He sidestepped, nearly tipping Nell out of the saddle. She fought to keep her balance but just as she regained her seat, Shrewdy propped to a complete stop and Nell catapulted out of the saddle and over her mare’s neck. She groped with her fingers for handfuls of mane. Her body crashed onto the wet, sandy ground and all air burst from her lungs.

  Pain filled her chest and her mind clouded as the tide surged and swirled around her head.

  Fighting to gain control over her body, she gasped for a breath. A part of her knew the air would come as it always did, but at that moment, her lungs were burst balloons. The sea sloshed in her ears and over her face. How long did it take to die?

  She tried to take another breath. It still hurt like mad but a little air flowed into her lungs. The balloons began to inflate. She opened her eyes. Through the agony, she became aware she wasn’t alone in the water. A shark?

  She sat up with a grunt. The ocean heaved and parted. A massive saltwater crocodile bobbed in the water less than two metres away. Her eyes and mouth gaped. The thing looked at her.

  Her throat slammed shut on her scream. Fear gripped her chest so tightly she thought her heart would stop beating. Instead, it thundered against her ribs so hard she feared it would alert the monster to her presence. Her mind screamed for her to move but her body froze. The dark-grey reptile moved closer and another cry choked in her throat. Her heart raced faster than Shrewdy could ever gallop.

  She sank down into the wet sand. Open-mouthed, she stared at the crocodile moving ever nearer with the tide. Her body still refused to listen to her frantic orders to move. Although her tender lungs protested, she held her breath as, closer and closer, the wide snout approached. The water vibrated as it danced around the beast. Its gnarly nose touched Nell’s skin above her sock. She shuddered inwardly at the contact, but her body remained as still as a beached whale. Had the croc just purred?

  It surged forward, wrapped its jaws around Nell’s waist and dragged her into the water. Still, she couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. Scream, you idiot. The sea swallowed her. Why was she still breathing? She wasn’t but it felt like she was. She didn’t need air. Was she dead?

  The crocodile backed up and gazed at her with large, black orbs, not menacingly but with a penetrating interest. ‘You are not dead.’

  The words touched her mind. She glanced around but not even a fish was within sight. She and the crocodile were alone. Should she try to get away?

  ‘Good morning, Dar-Nellen.’ Words again sounded in her mind. The crocodile?

  A tiny squeak passed through her lips. She shook her head. You can’t talk under water, dummy. What did he call her? Nothing, numbskull. Crocodiles can’t talk. I’m dead and dead people probably hear things all the time.

  ‘You are not dead,’ he said. ‘However, you are correct. Crocodile’s can’t talk. However, there are some of us who can find other ways to communicate.’

  Figuring she had nothing to lose, she said in her mind, ‘So, you’re not a crocodile?’

  ‘I am at this time. Be quiet and listen. You are growing physically but you must also grow from within. It is time to take responsibility and cease behaving like a spoiled child.’

  Nell spluttered, ‘I don’t.’ Ugh. Whatever he was, he wasn’t nice.

  ‘Do not interrupt, child,’ he roared. ‘Be proud of who you are. Embrace your heritage and stand tall in the knowledge that you can overcome the dark trials that lie ahead. Listen and weigh all possibilities but you must make your own decisions. Remember this above all else, there are some who will harm you.’

  ‘What sort of harm?’

  ‘That, I
cannot say.’

  He turned but swished back to eye her.

  ‘By the way, you are growing into a beautiful woman.’

  A deep throaty bellow, a laugh, filled her mind and the, whatever it was, flicked its tail and headed north.

  Nell floated there. She shrugged and still dazed, swam back to the beach. Once she scrapped the sandy bottom, she crawled on her hands and knees out of the gentle surf.

  A horse’s hooves reverberated through the ground. She looked up. Uh-oh. Sam wasn’t happy. Aware of the millions of grains of sand she held in her fists, she straightened her fingers and let the water wash them away.

  ‘Get up!’ Sam jumped off his horse and yanked her to her feet. He checked her front, roughly pushed her around and pulled her around again to face him.

  She stood on marshmallow legs and glanced up at his furious face before gazing out to sea to where she had last been seen the crocodile. Maybe her terror at the monstrous thing gave her some sort of weird reaction to the adrenaline that surged through her body. Maybe she had imagined she had a long conversation with a crocodile. Maybe she wasn’t under water all that long. She smiled. The crocodile mustn’t have liked her taste then.

  She meant to speak normally, but her voice was hardly more than a whisper. ‘Did you see that? I—’

  ‘You're bloody lucky you’re alive. Why didn't you move?’

  She adjusted her skullcap and cleared her throat before speaking. ‘I tried to before I realised he wasn't going to hurt me. He—’

  ‘Really? And how the hell did you realise that?’

  She traipsed through the dry sand to Shrewdy. How could she tell him what had just happened? He wouldn’t believe her anyway. Picking up the reins, she scanned the beach. As usual, she and Sam were the only ones there.

  Sam clomped through the sand after her. ‘Well?’

  She shook her head. ‘I don't know. It was just a feeling.’

  ‘You wanna trust what your eyes see and not some stupid feeling.’

  Her mare snorted and nudged Nell's chest. She thought she heard Shrewdy’s rapid heartbeat; felt Shrewdy’s fear and outrage.

  Nell gaped at her mare and frowned. She could have sworn Shrewdy was trying to say Sam was right. Don’t be a dummy. She was definitely letting her imagination get the better of her. If her mare could talk, she would probably agree with Sam. Nell was plain stupid.

  To the south, a wedgetail eagle flew low and circled above the shiny, iron roof of Sam’s green house. Another one soared over the horse paddock behind the house and perched on top of a stable. A shiver swept through Nell like a wave and crashed in her mind. The eagles reminded her of her nightmares where giant bird-men constantly hunted her. She pushed the memory away and glanced at her friend.

  Sam’s nearly black eyes filled with concern and his skin appeared to lighten. ‘You okay?’ he asked, his voice calmer.

  ‘I'm going back to your place.’ She leapt into the saddle. ‘You coming?’

  ‘Yep. It's too hot anyway.’ He whipped off his hat and wiped the back of his hand over his forehead. ‘It must be well over thirty degrees out here.’

  ‘Yeah, it has to be easy that.’ It was hot but it was January and it was the tropics.

  Sam grinned. ‘That's probably what's wrong with you. You white people can’t take too much sun.’

  He was trying to make up, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with his teasing. ‘Very funny,’ she said. ‘You seem to forget, you’re half white.’

  ‘That doesn’t change a thing. My black half is still smart enough to get out of the sun.’

  ‘Huh. You don’t mind using your mum’s half when it suits you. You’re always telling your dad, you’re too white to go traipsing about the forest eating grubs.’

  ‘I am. Would you like to eat witchetty grubs?’

  She laughed. ‘No way.’

  ‘See? I win again.’

  She shot him a narrowed-eyed glance and pushed Shrewdy forward. Pulling the reins back so there was just enough tension to feel the horse’s mouth, she tightened her legs. She didn’t want to be taken unaware if her horse shied again.

  With the towering Mount Grief to their right and the never-ending ocean to their left, they rode the horses back to the Frederick’s stables. Well, they weren’t really stables like the ones she had seen books. They were timber and iron-covered lean-tos.

  Her mind drifted to university. She would miss the beach, forest and water, but she would be back on the holidays. She’d never worried about not having friends before but they seemed more important now that she was getting older. Oh, she made friends with the kids who rode the Frederick’s horses, but she never had the chance to get really close to any of them. Smiling at her earlier imaginings, she realised she needed to be around people more.

  Except for visitors to the Frederick's riding stables, Sam was the only teenager in her life. His parents, Carl and Annet Frederick, were like family, but they were still adults. Huh. If the crocodile was real, he might be some sort of animal spirit watching over her. Maybe he was warning her about life at the university. If he was a real spirit, he might watch over her there. She liked that idea. People could be mean sometimes.

  She sighed. ‘I guess there’ll be loads of people at uni.’

  ‘Yeah. About fifteen hundred at last count, I think. But some are overseas students and only stay for one or two semesters.’

  Nell relaxed her hold on the reins and patted Shrewdy on her neck. Noticing her mare had calmed down, she cooed, ‘Good girl.’

  ‘Are you worried about leaving home?’ Sam asked.

  She shook her head. ‘Not really.’

  ‘It’s okay. Uni can be a little stressful for anyone. Even I was a bit apprehensive when I started. You might be smart, but one; you will have only just had your seventeenth birthday by then. Two; you’ll probably be the youngest there.’ He grinned at her. ‘You look and act even younger. And three; you’ve never lived away from home. Will you stop rolling your eyes at me?’

  ‘Will you stop treating me like a child then? Anyway, I can't wait to leave this place. And you’ll be there.’ She tilted her head. ‘You will be there, won’t you?’

  ‘Sure, but we probably won’t see much of each other.’

  Nell screwed up her nose. ‘I guess you’ll be too busy with all your girlfriends.’

  Sam laughed. ‘Yeah, there’s that, and the fact I’m a couple of years ahead of you.’

  ‘And that fact doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.’

  ‘Have I ever been able to tell you what to do?’

  She giggled. ‘Nope.’

  They hopped off the horses in front of the tack shed. Carl had rammed a wet-paint sign into the ground. Nell touched the shed with a finger. ‘Ugh. It’s still wet.’

  ‘No. We just put up those signs for fun. Do you have to test everything?’

  Ignoring him, she hosed the sweat off Shrewdy and the cold water reminded her of her crocodile spirit.

  She said, ‘Sam?’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Do crocodiles make noises like purring?’

  ‘I think they do when they mate. Mostly they make low roars to each other. Why?’

  ‘No reason.’ She definitely had too much sun.

  ‘You’re weird, you know that? Go on in and I’ll make sure the horses are okay. And don’t eat all the pikelets.’

  She grinned and wandered to the back of the Queenslander. Passed Sam’s herb garden, she noted how well they were growing in the sandy soil. She slowed. She hadn’t chosen a major yet, preferring to try a number of subjects before she made up her mind. Sam had known what he was going to study since primary school. Music. He had always been able to sing and he picked up all sorts of musical instruments easily.

  She hung her helmet on a hook beside the back door, glad Annet had made her wear it that morning. After pulling off her boots, she pushed through the screen door. It slammed shut behind her. She jumped and turned around. Huh. Carl st
ill hadn’t fixed the spring thing at the top that made it close smoothly.

  ‘Sam?’ Annet called out from the other room.

  ‘Only me,’ Nell said.

  ‘Help yourself to the pikelets.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  A large tray full of pikelets sat in the middle of the round kitchen table, a jar of plum jam and a bowl of cream next to it. Sam shouldn’t have been worried. No one person could eat all the pikelets.

  She sat down at the table, spread the jam, and dolloped some cream on top. She relaxed, feeling completely at home in the Frederick’s home. Of course she did. She spent most of her time there when her father was away. And the whole family spent nearly all their time in the cosy kitchen.

  Oh, they had a formal dining room and a sitting room but that was only used if they had guests or for special occasions. The television and game consoles were set up in the old living room. Sam and Nell used that room the most. Annet liked to cook so spent most of her time in front of the stove and Carl preferred to stay with her when he wasn’t writing in his study.

  Annet entered the kitchen with a small, white timer in her hand. She had wrapped a towel around her shoulders and her hair was wet with newly applied colour. She was in her thirties and didn’t have one grey hair, but she loved red rinses. Nell wished she had fair hair like Annet’s natural colour. She would have also liked bronze skin.

  ‘Hello, sweetie. You caught me. I thought I’d have it rinsed off by the time you got back.’ She looked down at the floor in front of the back door.

  Nell followed her eyes. She’d left wet prints from the door to the chair.

  ‘Speaking of looks, why are you wet?’

  ‘Um …’ At least her top and riding pants were nearly dry. She sighed. No use in making up stories. ‘I fell off Shrewdy.’

  ‘Are you hurt?’

  Nell shook her head. ‘No. Just my pride.’

  She narrowed her knowing eyes at Nell. ‘Was that before or after you kids raced the horses?’