by Dianne Keep
He cleared his throat. “I attended several meetings about the Ranking.”
“Anything interesting happen?”
“No.” He glanced over his shoulder.
She’d run out of things to say. If he wanted to talk, he’d have to come up with something.
The brick buildings crowded the narrow road of the second tier’s main street. Covered gutters hid the curb’s flow of trash and sewage from the tier above. New flower boxes hung on every sill and Rysa’s flag above every door. The peppery incense suspended from the lampposts made her sneeze.
At the next checkpoint, they reached the third tier—the marketplace, filled with servants, workers, sellers, and buyers. People howled at each other for a better price and, after a few heated words, shook hands, and traded goods. Bree relaxed in the saddle. People here were too busy to give her a passing glance.
Brick, rock, metal, and wood houses spilled into and over each other, smashing against the capital’s great outer wall which stood at least three stories taller than the highest building. Sweet scents from the bakeries and soft floral perfumes from the flower peddlers mixed with the acidic stench of garbage. Still, her stomach growled.
Bayan turned to her. “Do you want to add anything to the lunch Cook packed for us?”
A girl walked by with a tempting basket of spiced rolls. Bree’s mouth watered. “No, thank you. I’m sure whatever Cook prepared will be wonderful.”
“You’re sure? It’s no trouble.” It wouldn’t cost Bayan a thing if he asked for the entire basket of rolls, and if he had wanted the girl, he could have her too. The Resh owned everyone and everything in Rysa.
Including me. The thought chased away her hunger. “I’m sure. Thank you.”
The capital’s final gate alarm pealed, and their group stopped. All the ground soldiers saluted Zeir Bayan. Wall sentries paced the top walkways, holding loaded laser pistols and rifles that pointed outside and toward the market. Massive cannons loomed at each section of the wall, ready to shoot either way. The queasiness in Bree’s stomach grew.
She focused on the ancient gearbox that hung useless to the side of the gate. A glass case covered its old levers. The plaque underneath told of how the gate once opened with a touch of a button before the Changing. Power was in short supply in Stav. What they had was used for weapons.
Someone shouted, and with the grunts of many men hidden somewhere within the wall, the gate slowly clicked to life and started to rise. Feeders, seeders, and soldiers bustled in and out of small steel doors placed at intervals along the wall but, of course, Bayan had to exit Stav in true royal fashion.
The gate shuddered to a stop, and ten additional foot soldiers surrounded the mounted armored guards. Really? Bree sighed. They weren’t going that far from the city. Bayan didn’t comment on the extra men, so he probably expected the company.
Outside the great wall, huge rusted pipes peeked through the dirt here and there. Bree always wondered what was in them and where they went. When she had asked Bayan about them, he said they weren’t used for anything since the Changing. But she suspected he either didn’t know or he wasn’t supposed to tell her.
The air flickered, and her alhor skipped over to the tubes, startling some of the horses. Stop that. Instead of listening, a line of her glow continued past the pipes to the dirt pathway next to the fields. The gold stripe stretched thinner while remaining connected to her and trailed farther and farther away until she lost sight of it.
Bayan glanced at her. “Where’s it off to?”
“I have no idea.”
He smirked. “Magic has a mind of its own.”
Bree nodded as they entered the planting fields. Stav’s older seeders were bent over, digging holes with their hands. Those without hands or arms, dug with their feet. Some missing legs limped from row to row on crutches. Young children and women followed behind sowing the grain.
To the north, feeders plucked the last of the winter vegetables. Tall metal mesh fences bordered the outskirts of the fields, protecting the workers and sentries from the mutated animals lurking in the wilderness. Guards posted at watchtowers every hundred yards used spyglasses to search the countryside for any sudden movements.
The ten extra foot soldiers spread out into the fields. Bree sighed in relief. They were only changing shifts. Two soldiers opened a gate at the end of the fields, and she and Bayan passed into the tunnel that lead to the Ranking arena. Without asking Bayan’s permission, Bree nudged Nikki into a trot. Bayan matched Nikki’s pace, as did her quad and the other soldiers. Bayan reined in his horse once they reached the stadium. He dismounted and looked at her expectantly.
She raised her eyebrow. “Why are we stopping here?”
A guard handed Bayan the lunch basket. “Come on.” Bayan took Nikki’s reins while she dismounted. “Let’s go to the top and look out the lenses.” He grabbed her hand.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to get farther away? Maybe we could go to the hills? The views there are beautiful.” She tried tugging her hand out of his grip. She needed talk to him about all the handholding.
“We don’t have time today.” He tugged her toward the arena. “Besides, I want to show you something.”
“Really? What?” She forced her voice to carry a tinge of pleasant curiosity. Be grateful. Act grateful. Without him, I’m stuck in my room.
“There will be a few changes to the Ranking this year,” said Bayan.
The quad surrounded Bree. They barely fit on the stadium’s steep and narrow stairway. She couldn’t remember any of the previous Rankings, but if half the population of Stav came to watch, they needed to build a wider staircase.
“They have?” Bree asked.
“More contestants. The ones that didn’t rank last year will be tried again.”
Ehre had told her most young men didn’t live through their first Ranking. Survive with minimal injuries, and the reward is the frontline. Injured beyond service? She thought of the seeders and feeders they had passed. That was their reward for serving Rysa, another way to remain alive and prove themselves useful.
Bayan stopped at a platform between stairs. “We’ll have extra rooms for the injured as well.” He pointed to an area that resembled the metal tunnel they had come through. His eyes were bright with excitement. “Healers will be on site at all times. This will give the candidates another chance to earn their rank.”
Bree bit her tongue. She thought she saw Shane’s shoulders shake. Was he laughing?
Sparks lit the arena below where welders had built metal boxes the size of her bedroom. “Are those for the healers?” Bree asked. The thread of her alhor that had followed the pipes returned and crept toward the workers.
“Yes.” Bayan watched her alhor circle the stadium floor. “If there’s an injury, the contestant must make it to a safe room.”
Her gut twisted. It wouldn’t be easy to return to the arena after being sliced open by a demented beast. “I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.”
At the top of the stairs, Bayan let go of her hand and held onto the sidebars of the catwalk. Rows of lenses lined the path. Bree wiped her hands on her split skirt. Wind whipped her face and tugged her hair. The aisle swayed.
“Is it safe to be up here?” Her quad stayed behind on the landing.
“Of course.” Bayan let go of the bars and smiled at her. “See?”
He went to an open turret with three lenses and set out their lunch on top of a blanket. The circular walls blocked most of the wind. She sat next to him and unwrapped her meal—a hearty cheese sandwich and some berries. Her stomach complained that she wasn’t already eating. Bayan set his sandwich down and poked at his fruit.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked.
Bayan was always hungry. Sometimes he ate half of her food while he spewed secrets about Keir Whoever’s latest duel or Karra Something’s disastrous ball gown.
She dug through the basket. “Looks like Cook packed something sweet for dessert.” She held up the c
ustard, a favorite of theirs. He didn’t respond. “Is something wrong?”
He ran his hands through his hair, sighed, and rubbed his face. “Nothing’s wrong.”
She took a bite of the sandwich but didn’t taste it. Bayan couldn’t be upset with her. She’d lose her outings. Khrisk might be able to take her on outings when he returned home, if she was allowed to see him. Her lungs tightened at the idea of being cooped up in the palace all day every day.
“I want to ask you something.” Bayan grabbed her hand. She’d have to talk to him about all the touching.
Be thankful. You could be locked in the dungeons. Or dead. She plastered a smile on her face. “I thought you wanted to show me something.” Asking was dangerous.
Bayan cleared his throat. His hand trembled. He stared into her eyes. “Will you give me the great privilege of being my Honor for the Ranking?”
“What?” It came out as a squeak. She was cold and hot at the same time. He shouldn’t, couldn’t ask this of her.
“I would…be privileged to have you…cheering for me during the Ranking. To know you’re thinking of me while I face the wilds. To have you forever by my side after.” His voice grew stronger, more confident. She didn’t think anyone had ever said no to him.
“I can’t. I’m a Seyh. It’s impossible for us to be together.” She hated the panic woven into her words. “I thought you knew that. Doesn’t everyone know that?” He should know. He couldn’t ask her.
“My father would be willing to make an exception for me.” He tightened his hold.
She glanced toward the landing. The quad had disappeared. Why would they leave her alone with the Zeir? “No, I don’t think he can. We’re not the same.” She hadn’t led him to believe she liked him.
Or had she? As friends, sure, but as his wife? Definitely not. Today was the first time they had held hands, and it was because he kept grabbing hers. Had she liked him in the past and just couldn’t remember? He would have told her. Khrisk or Ehre, somebody, would have warned her. She yanked her hand free. “Zeir Bayan, I don’t think what you’re offering is possible. I’m indebted to you for your friendship—”
He cut her off. “Bree, my father will agree to this.” He moved next to her. She scooted away. “I want you to understand,” he continued. “You must be connected to the Resh, and the only way to do that is by marrying me.”
“I’m connected to the Resh. I’m loyal now. Haven’t I proven that in the last three months?” Bits of sandwich reappeared in her throat. “Superior Ehre is helping me. I’ll be back to normal soon. I promise. I activated a relic today. The rest of my talents will return, and I’ll go back to serving on the battlefields.”
She stood. She could run. She was faster than Bayan even without training.
Bayan clamped his hands on her shoulders. “Is this because of Second Zeir Khrisk?”
“The Second Zeir?” Her heart pounded. A tiny fragment of feeling slipped through her defenses. She would have agreed to marry Khrisk Satrov. She trusted him. For some stupid, crazy reason she trusted him. How could that be? She shoved the thought away.
“I can see it in your eyes. You have feelings for him.” Bayan’s fingers dug into her skin. “You shouldn’t have feelings for him.”
Something snapped. Literally, she heard it in her head. “I don’t.” Or didn’t. Or wouldn’t.
“You do.”
“I don’t. And I obey the laws. I am loyal.”
“You might break the laws for him.” One of his hands grabbed her chin. “It won’t happen.”
“You’re the one asking me to be your wife. Not him.” Molten fury pumped through her veins. “Release me.” Her alhor covered him.
She’d never covered anyone with her alhor before. Through the connection, she felt his life pulsing inside her. Her power throbbed. She could snap him in two. Break his mind. Make him forget.
Shock and terror crossed his face. He stumbled, tripped over the basket, and hit his head against the metal floor.
CHAPTER SEVEN
What have I done?
Bree checked Bayan’s pulse. Faint pressure beat under her fingertips as blood pooled around his head.
This can’t be happening.
She wiped her face and pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to think. Silent sobs racked her ribs. She hadn’t pushed him. He fell over on his own. But she’d covered her him with her alhor.
The Resh wouldn’t forgive her for murdering his only son.
She was dead.
Death would be better than having to explain this to Ehre. Or the Resh. If she didn’t act soon, Bayan would be lost. What could she do? A throbbing pain told her to stop pushing in her eyeballs. She blinked. The world blurred.
Rivers of blood.
Flowing through pines.
Bodies.
Nothing behind their eyes.
Screams ripped her throat.
A hand touched her shoulder. “Be calm. You are not lost.”
Captain Shane. What was he doing here? He’d seen Bayan. “I didn’t push him.” She looked at his face to gauge his reaction.
“I know. He’ll be fine.” Shane kept his hand on her shoulder.
No one should touch her. She was dangerous. Her memories were dangerous. Her alhor covered Shane’s arm. She stepped away, shoving her hands into her pockets.
“Are you hurt?” His voice was soothing. His blue eyes were alight with concern.
He must have seen the wildness in her eyes and wondered how far gone she was. Hadn’t Shane noticed Bayan bleeding out? She glanced at the Zeir’s body, but there wasn’t blood on the floor or on Bayan. He sat against the turret’s wall, rubbing the back of his head.
Her entire body shook. “He was bleeding. I saw.” Words disappeared. What did I see? Dead people? She closed her eyes. She’d seen blood around Bayan’s head before all the bodies. They were real. So real she could have touched them. She was clearly losing her mind, but her alhor remained calm, staying above her skin.
“I came as soon as I heard your scream,” said Shane. “The Zeir tripped over the basket, I assume. It’s really quite windy up here.” A gust of wind pressed against them as if to prove his point.
The knot in her stomach unwound. Her breath evened. Why had she thought Bayan was dying? She shook her head trying to dislodge the vision of the bodies and blood.
“I think Zeir Bayan will be fully recovered in a few minutes.” Shane turned to Bayan. “A small bump is all, Zeir. Correct?”
Bayan nodded.
“See?” Shane said, taking a small step toward her. “You have nothing to be worried about, my light.”
Why had he called her his light? No one had called her “my light.” As if she could be anyone’s light.
He smiled. She smiled. None of the guards ever referred to her with any sort of respectful name, even though she technically outranked them as a Seyh. None of them ever stood close to her without a sneer or a look of terror in their eyes.
“Thank you for coming, Captain Shane,” said Bree. Thankfully, her voice wasn’t shaky. All sorts of thoughts and feeling pressed against her mental blockade. She squashed them down. She had to focus.
“You’re most welcome.” He placed his right hand over his heart and bowed. “I live to serve.”
A picture appeared in her mind as clear as if she was there.
Shane, the same man before her now, bowed, but not to her, to the woman with silver hair. The woman from the mirror. Only this time the woman’s hair was brown. They stood in a lush pine forest. She could smell the dirt.
The picture vanished.
Her pulse danced wildly in her veins.
Somehow, she was seeing her memories, or were they visions? Or maybe Captain Shane knew the woman and she was observing his memories. Either way, the charm didn’t activate. It didn’t acknowledge she saw anything out of the ordinary.
Bree needed answers. She needed Ehre. Now. “I must return to the palace.”
Shane fro
wned. “Yes, of course.” He helped Bayan to his feet. “Zeir, how do you feel? Can you walk?”
Bayan’s eyes glazed over. He fell into Shane’s outstretched arms. The captain murmured to Bayan, who responded by mumbling something about the Resh.
While Shane tended to Bayan, she packed the basket, mourning the uneaten custard, and wondering what Ehre would say about her visions. Something clanked on the metal floor when she picked up the blanket—Bayan’s honor chain. He’d brought it with him, probably expecting her to swoon like the young ladies in front of their big, shiny villas. Truly, any unmarried girl would kill for a proposal from the First Zeir of Rysa.
Why can’t I just accept him? He can’t love me. How could he? And I don’t love him.
She peeked over her shoulder. Shane still spoke softly to Bayan; whose eyes were now clear. The Zeir’s face turned serious. He nodded curtly to the captain. They’d come to an understanding of sorts. Perhaps they discussed the best way to inform Osling of the incident.
Ehre would explain the malfunctions. The visions would go away. The sooner they returned to the palace the better. She kept her head down and counted the seconds.
Bayan touched her arm gently. His eyes were kind, and his lips twitched with a smirk. He doesn’t hate me. She might live another day.
“You should consider my offer.” Bayan held up the honor chain. “Neither Khrisk nor my father will get in the way of us being together.” He took her hand in his.
“How can you say that?” She forced her hand to stay in place. She owed him that much. “It’s against your laws.”
“My laws?” The façade of gentleness fled. Bayan grabbed her shoulders. He looked at the amber gem, then at her face.
“Our laws.” She cringed at her misstep. Try harder. “I meant to say, our laws.”
Bayan didn’t release her. “Captain Shane, tell the men we’ll be down shortly.”
“Yes, Zeir.”
Now alone, Bayan stepped closer. “What do you feel when I’m next to you?”
Her muscles tensed. “I’m always pleased to be in your presence.” She bonded her feet to the spot of metal beneath her boots. She would not move.