Day 7: Kamm
Kamm is the oldest brother of the Motley sisters, a Sentinel Master, a retired Ecmentur champion and a sulky man with much pain and sadness in his past. He wants to get rid of all Earth people (Terrakas) on Arkana and not letting more in, so Molly and Kamm don't exactly get along.
EXCERPT
Fields of Elysium
A YA romantic fantasy
A dark figure stepped out of the shadows, its figure clearing as he neared us. It was a man, dressed in a glossy-hooded black cloak, held together on the chest by a metal bird buckle. Red material peeked out from under the tight coat at his neck and over his thighs. His outfit looked like a uniform.
“Hello, Kamm,” Tulliat greeted him, recoiling.
“You didn’t answer my question,” the deep voice growled.
“Victor brought her here. She almost died from Panicova poisoning.”
I wanted to step forward and shake hands with this Kamm, but my legs refused to obey.
At last, the figure reached the circle of light created by Mynps in the lantern and tucked his hood back. He was in his late twenties and had dazzling blue eyes and thick straight eyebrows. His heart-shaped lips were surrounded with stubble a few days old. Dark grey seemed to dominate his short hair, but that might have been from the dim light and the three moons’ silver glow.
He glowered at me in a piercing and hostile way.
I felt as small as a mouse.
Throughout my entire life I had never experienced such repugnant behavior toward me by so many. I was never outstandingly popular, but neither was I hated so virulently.
“Stop telling her our secrets. Our job is tough enough without you helping them so foolishly,” Kamm growled at Tulliat, all the while keeping his dark eyes on me.
“She’s with me, Kamm,” Victor said, floating in the air on his Ducati next me.
He extended his arm for me.
“Then maybe you should be a more cautious shepherd and not let your sheep wander off,” Kamm said spicily.
He threw another antagonistic glance at me, spun around and was gone, the same soundless way as he appeared.
I climbed onto the railing and jumped over onto the Ducati.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how I could have fallen asleep like that,” Victor said.
“No harm done. Your friend Tulliat kept me good company,” I said, waving at the boy whose admiration for Victor was plastered all over his face.
“I’ll see you soon, brother,” Victor called.
Tulliat lit up with a broad smile. “I’ll be waiting for your return.”
Victor nodded, turned the protective field on, and we headed off into the darkness of the woodland.
Written and illustrated by A.B. Whelan
Thank you for reading,
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