Shards of Hope

by Nalini Singh

  The little girl followed, running on small legs beside her. "Zai, walk?"

  "Yes." She slowed her speed slightly; even she knew that hurting a child's self-confidence was not care. Her parents had told her she was stupid a lot. It hadn't helped her become a better person--it had just made her rage bigger.

  "Why?" Jojo asked, thumbs hooked in the pockets of her overalls. "Why Zai walk?"

  "I'm not used to being inside this way." Walls stifled her; even the windows weren't helping anymore. The silence inside her head only multiplied the sense of suffocation, threatening to return her to the small room in which she'd gone insane as a child.

  "Grr." Jojo hooked her hands in the air, releasing tiny claws.

  "Why are you growling?"

  Jojo retracted her claws, reached up to take Zaira's hand. "Come." She tugged. "Jojo show."

  Not quite sure what the child was talking about, Zaira decided to follow her for the same reason that she'd lowered her speed. There was no reason to make Jojo feel as if her thoughts and views were without value. It wasn't as if Zaira had any other pressing engagements.

  "Come, Zai." Jojo walked excitedly, pulling at Zaira until they stepped onto the outside passageway that led to the dining aerie.

  "Wait," Zaira said. "You don't have a coat."

  "Jojo, cat," the little girl said. "Zai cold?"

  Realizing changelings must have an advantage in regulating their body temperature, Zaira said, "No, I'll be fine." She'd left Aden's jacket in their aerie, but a short trek wouldn't cause any physical issues--she'd been thrown into freezing rooms as part of her Arrow training, had learned to bear it.

  Allowing Jojo to lead her along the walkway, Zaira was aware of other adult and juvenile changelings always nearby--not overtly watchful, but close enough to intervene if necessary. A number nodded hello as they passed, tugging at one of Jojo's pigtails or brushing the backs of their hands against the little girl's cheek.

  Touch, contact, she noted. Constant and normalized.

  Jojo would never feel alone, never feel like a forgotten piece of trash.

  The child took her into a connecting walkway, then another, until they scrambled down a rope ladder into a large open area that was nonetheless protected from the elements by clear plas shielding against which the unrelenting rain hit soundlessly. In comparison to the walkways, however, the temperature in the space was comfortable. That wasn't the only surprise: the area was filled with climbing frames, complex rope ladders, a rock wall, and more.

  "See!" Jojo jumped up and down. "Zai play here!"

  Zaira looked down at the child who'd managed to make the connection between her need for freedom and a cat's need for the same. "Thank you, Jojo." Consciously copying what she'd seen the adult changelings do, she ran her knuckles gently over the delicate softness of Jojo's cheek.

  The little girl leaned into her, unafraid. "Play?"

  "I would like to climb the wall over there." If she was careful, it shouldn't break open her healing skin.

  Jojo nodded and walked with her to the foot of the climbing wall that sloped in a faintly concave shape, making it more difficult to traverse.

  "Jojo, too small," the little girl said. "Jojo play there." She pointed to a colorful climbing frame that was clearly sized for children, complete with rope bridges and slides to the ground.

  Waiting until she was sure Jojo was capable on the frame, Zaira stepped up to the wall and took the first grip. Ten seconds after she began, she realized it was a much more difficult course than appeared at first glance. For someone with a shorter reach like Zaira, it was close to impossible.

  Perfect.

  When she slipped, she was aware of Jojo crying out.

  It was . . . odd that the child should care so much about a near stranger, but it cost Zaira nothing to make the effort to respond. "I'm fine," she said, feeling the strain in her abdomen. She ignored it. It'd be worth a dressing-down from Finn to unleash some of her pent-up energy. "This is a difficult climb."

  "Yup," Jojo said. "Cat climb."

  Zaira's mind clicked, the almost unclimbable difficulty of the course suddenly making sense: the cats must use their claws to compensate. Since she had no claws, she used the comparative lightness of her body to swing off one hold to the other. Again and again and again. It was a climb that required extreme concentration, logical thinking, and a careful use of strength.

  She was cognizant of sounds behind her, and she kept a peripheral eye on where Jojo played on the frame, but the climb held the majority of her attention.

  Never was she unaware of individuals who might become a threat, but she evaluated the overall threat level automatically and assigned it a negligible rating. It was becoming increasingly clear that these changelings didn't want to kill or harm or torture her or Aden. RainFire had offered help simply because it was the right thing to do.

  So she climbed until her biceps were quivering, her hamstring muscles and quadriceps tight, and her new skin painful. By the time she hauled herself up to sit on the top edge, she had the feeling she would be getting a serious dressing-down from Finn. Gathering noise from below had her looking down to see a large group clapping--for her.

  Jojo was jumping up and down and waving.

  Zaira lifted her hand and moved it in a wave motion for no reason except that no one had ever indulged her as a child and she thought of what it would've meant. A single instant of kindness could've changed everything, could've kept her from becoming a murderer.

  *

  ADEN watched Zaira wave at Jojo. Others might've been startled at seeing his normally ice-cold commander do that, but Aden had always noted how Zaira treated the young. She wasn't warm and cuddly, but if she was in the vicinity and a child needed something, she'd provide it.

  In one case, she'd broken the arm of a trainer who'd been about to do the same to an eight-year-old boy. After that, Ming ensured Zaira was never around any of the training centers. Aden wanted her to help him choose the teams to run what was now a centralized training area for the same reason. Zaira's thinking might be problematic in a number of senses, but never when it came to the welfare of children.

  "If I hadn't seen that," a male changeling said from beside him, "I wouldn't have believed it."

  Aden glanced at the man, who'd introduced himself as Theo. "What?"

  "That fucking climb." The brown-eyed, black-haired changeling whistled. "It's built to be completed using claws. Never seen anyone do it without."

  "She's an Arrow."

  "Don't tell me you can all do that. I won't believe you."

  No, they couldn't all do what Zaira had just done. Zaira was unique and not simply in the physical sense. As she began to climb down, Aden found himself moving closer, but he made sure not to go so close that the changelings would notice.

  Remi came up beside him, his eyes trained on Zaira. "You want us to put a net under her?"

  Zaira slipped right then, caught herself, hanging precariously from one hand.

  "No." One thing Aden knew about Zaira--she wouldn't want herself to be seen as weak by strangers--not in any way. If he permitted that, it'd be a breach of trust she would never forgive. "She has it under control."

  He had to consciously regulate his breathing as Zaira continued down. Ever since he'd touched Vasic and Ivy's bond, he'd felt his Silence slipping away and he hadn't fought hard to hold on to it. He knew he could still be the leader the squad needed without that straitjacket.

  Except, according to Zaira, the fact that he cared for each and every life under his command was no secret in the squad. It was also something his parents would term a serious deviation from their aims and plans. More than that, they'd see it as a failure. Marjorie and Naoshi had created and molded Aden for a specific purpose; he had achieved that purpose, but he'd done so on his own terms--and the depth of that success continued to perplex his parents.

  To them, he had always been the child who was a pale shadow of the one they wanted. Their aim had been to crea
te a merciless cardinal telepath who could take on even a Councilor. What they'd got instead was a solemn, quiet boy who registered as a 4.3 telepath on the Gradient, along with an even more minor M ability. A child who had been permitted into the squad only because of his parents' stellar records and because he was useful in a secondary capacity.

  Someone needed to be trained as a field medic for his year group--why not the disappointingly low-Gradient child of two Arrows? After all, that child was already loyal to the squad and understood how it functioned. His appointment to the medic position would also free up another more powerful child to devote his or her full attention to combat training.

  Aden could still remember his mother's hands on his shoulders as she hunkered down in front of him when he was nine years old, on the eve of her and his father's planned "deaths."

  You aren't what we wanted, but we'll have to make the best of it. As you aren't fit to lead, your task is to find a suitable stronger child and do everything in your power to support him to the leadership. An Arrow must be at the helm, one who remembers who and where he came from. We thought Ming was that Arrow, but he isn't one of us--never forget that, no matter what face he wears.

  The irony was that Aden had already found an outwardly stronger child, through no effort of his own. Vasic's teleportation and telekinetic abilities made him a far more suitable candidate--but Vasic didn't want the position, and he'd seen in Aden what Aden's parents never had.

  So had Zaira.

  You'll lead, Aden. You already do.

  Both the most important people in his life had said that to him at different times, in different words. Their belief had been enough to temper his parents' disappointment and lack of faith. Marjorie and Naoshi had started then nurtured the rebellion with a number of critical actions, and Aden would never downplay their contribution, but they had never treated their son as anything but a regrettable mistake. Yet they wondered why that son didn't treat them as elders, didn't heed their words. They didn't comprehend that they'd given up that right long, long ago, even before their defection.

  The only two people who had the right to question Aden on that level, or to challenge his decisions, were Zaira and Vasic.

  At that instant, Zaira slipped a second time and little Jojo ran over to grip tightly at Remi's hand. Aden, meanwhile, held his position with sheer strength of will, keeping his face expressionless and his eyes resolutely on her.

  He was also calculating odds--if she fell from her current height, she'd still break a bone, but she'd survive. He would've raked her over the coals for taking the risk but he understood why she'd done it: Zaira did not do well under any kind of confinement, even that forced by the weather in the middle of a sprawling natural landscape.

  Why do I have to sleep in a room? Why can't I sleep outside?

  She'd asked him that mutinous question when they'd both been children. He couldn't remember how he'd convinced her to grit her teeth and go to sleep in the small dorm, but as soon as he had the power, he'd made sure she never had to do the same again.

  When the decision was made to turn the slumbering Venice base into an active asset, he'd had to select a commander to lead the op. He hadn't chosen Zaira because of her need for space, for freedom; he'd done so because she was one of his best commanders, one who could think independently and who had a nature rebellious enough to stand firm against the older defectors who'd assumed they would be the ones actually calling the shots. But the fact that she had a large room with a balcony in Venice was his doing--that balcony was over a canal, meaning Zaira always had a secondary escape route and the option to sleep with the balcony door open if she wished.

  Never again would anyone lock her in.

  Zaira missed a grip, was left hanging by her fingertips.

  Chapter 20

  MORE THAN ONE changeling ran closer, as if to catch her, but Aden stood exactly where he was, willing her to recover. She did. With a deliberate focus and an intelligent strength that had Theo shaking his head, eyes gone wolf in admiration. "Man, she's got serious fucking balls."

  Aden made a note to repeat the comment to Zaira; she'd appreciate it.

  "Just so you know," Remi drawled from his other side, "a whole lot of the dominants in the pack are going to be trying their luck with her now."

  Aden was starting to become used to feline slyness, so he understood that Remi was needling him to find out if he and Zaira had a relationship. He answered regardless. "They're too late." She was his, had given herself to him long ago. He wasn't planning on returning the gift, no matter if she believed herself too broken to walk with him.

  "Yeah." A grin in the alpha's voice. "That's what I figured."

  When Zaira's feet finally hit the ground after several more risky moves, Jojo laughed and ran over to hug her legs. "Wow! Zai, cat climb!"

  Aden's heart thundered, his breath finally coming easier.

  Sweating, and with her features giving nothing away, though he knew she had to be in pain, Zaira placed her hand gently on Jojo's head. "A cat with no claws."

  Zaira's eyes met his as the little girl laughed; her gaze was opaque, inscrutable. "I should head off to shower."

  "Not until you tell us how you did that." Theo looked up at the wall, shook his head again. "It should've been impossible--that's an elite-level climb with claws."

  Zaira tugged very carefully on one of Jojo's pigtails to get the tiny girl's attention. "May I lift you for a second?"

  An unconcerned shrug. "Okay."

  Shifting her hands to under the child's armpits, Zaira lifted her a few inches off the floor, then set her down again. "Thank you."

  Jojo leaned against her leg in answer.

  Remi, meanwhile, had raised an eyebrow. "Theo should weight lift Jojo?"

  "No. I was testing my hypothesis." Zaira put her hand back on Jojo's hair, the touch seeming to come more naturally this time. "To me, Jojo weighs more than she should for a child her size."

  Theo nodded. "Changelings have heavier bones. Yours are more fragile."

  "Yes. So even if a changeling woman who looked exactly my size stood next to me, the two of us indistinguishable to the naked eye, she would still be heavier than me in weight."

  Aden glanced up at the climbing wall while Remi nodded, his hands braced on his hips. "Your lightness gave you an advantage," the alpha said.

  "But," Aden responded, "she also thought strategically." That was what made Zaira such a good commander; her capacity to look at the bigger picture and plan accordingly. "If you trace her path, you'll see she achieved maximum distance with each move."

  The four of them discussed the climb further for several minutes, during which a number of other packmates joined them, before Zaira left to have a shower. Aden wanted to order her to see Finn to make sure she hadn't torn any of her newly healed injuries, but he held his silence since they had an audience. If, once they were alone, he discovered she hadn't been to the healer, he'd rectify that immediately.

  "I went out earlier to gauge the weather," Remi said to him once everyone else had dispersed, but his eyes were on the climbing frame where Jojo played with several other cubs. "Storm's looking like it'll hold through tonight at least." He didn't interfere when a child tumbled off into a fall, but did stride over and wipe away the child's tears as he lifted the boy to his feet again.

  The child ran off to play again a bare minute after.

  When Remi returned to Aden, Aden took a risk. "I need to learn how to do what you do." If he was going to create a real family from the dangerous and the rejected and the scarred, he had to be more than a leader who understood politics and how to keep his people safe.

  He had to be an alpha.

  That there was a difference between the two, he'd only started to understand since being in RainFire. "I need to learn how to be alpha of a pack."

  Remi's eyes turned yellow-green, a leopard watching him out of a human face. "Two things make an alpha--one is an inborn dominance and a primal drive to protect. You a
lready have that." His lips quirked slightly. "That's why the leopard keeps trying to outstare you and why you have to force yourself to look away."

  Aden hadn't realized Remi had picked up on the latter. "What's the second thing?"

  "Guidance that instills you with a bone-deep knowledge," Remi told him. "When cubs have the scent of an alpha about them, we keep an eye on them and teach them how to be a good alpha by example and through gentle nudges, until by the time those cubs become aware of their alpha tendencies, they have the right skill set. Though," he added dryly, "a refresher course is needed for those of us who figure things out a little later."

  "I know how to hold a group together. I also have the strength to do it." He'd been created to be a tool of revolution, his DNA changed in ways that had had an unpredictable effect, the end result so unique that Marjorie and Naoshi still believed him to be only a low-level telepath.

  Aden had never told them the truth; he'd told only five people, and those five people he'd trust at his back without question: Vasic, Zaira, coolheaded sniper and trainer Cristabel, rock-steady telepath Amin, and deadly Axl, who many in the squad had considered Ming's right-hand man, but whose loyalty had always been Aden's. Only one other person knew. Walker Lauren had figured it out while Aden had been a child in his classroom. The telepath, who must now be in his early-to-mid forties, was the only other person Aden had ever met whose base telepathic abilities worked anything similarly to his own.

  "What I don't understand," he said to Remi, "is how to make the group into a family." Given the violent abilities of those who became Arrows, the squad would always be a military unit that specialized in teaching its members how to harness their strength so that strength didn't spin out of control, but it didn't have to be only that.

  Remi blew out a breath as the two of them walked to watch a juvenile attempt a less aggressive climbing wall. "Family is what connects us. I don't know that I can break it down." He rubbed at his jaw, his stubble scraping his fingers. "What ties you to your men and women?"

  "Loyalty."

  "Good foundation." The RainFire alpha folded his arms. "I guess family is about people knowing you'll be there even when they can't pull their weight because they're sick or hurt or just plain tired. Family's there even when you stuff up and do everything wrong."