by Kelly A Nix
“I don’t need anyone to save me. But if I did, I have a pack. How about you?” Atae sneers at her prince, and Truin grits his teeth.
“I have to admit it. You impressed me today. You almost saved me the trouble of outing you to Solum.”
“Truin,” Sloan says, but it’s too late.
“Out me about what?” Atae asks. She gasps at the cold realization clawing up her spine, and Beast growls at Prince Truin’s threat. He stares at the blue hybrid with a twisted smirk.
“Schinn’s been begging to reveal your newest ability to Solum since the beginning. He’s very concerned about your well-being. But Sloan’s been so adamant that you’ll eventually be an asset that I decided we’d see what you could do in the tournament. I honestly expected you to lose it and go feral by now. But here you are, keeping it together. As I said, I’m impressed.”
Atae stares at Prince Truin in surprise and horror, unable to form a response. A cold terror settles into her chest, but Beast claws at it and sets Atae’s veins ablaze with molten fury. She snarls at the hybrid prince.
“If you’re going to rat me out like the spoiled little shit that you are, do it. Don’t threaten me and expect me to fall in line like one of your little lackeys.”
Atae’s voice is brazen with Beast’s confidence, and Prince Truin glares at her impudence. Jeqi covers her face in defeat; she’s sure their secret from Solum is over. Sloan watches the exchange between his prince and Atae with obvious amusement. No one ever gives Truin flack, except him, of course.
Marqee’s groans into consciousness do nothing to ease the palpable tension as Atae and Truin glare at each other. The dimpled purebred glances around at the stalemate.
“What did I miss?”
“We got the most points, but barely advanced to the next round of the tournament. Truin threatened to out Atae to Solum. Atae is not taking it lying down and thus commenced the stare down,” Sloan says. Atae huffs and leans back in her chair to roll her eyes at the larger purebred.
“Again, with the sarcasm, Sloan?”
“That’s all he is, sarcasm and bitterness,” Prince Truin says. “Anyway, the point is moot. I’ve decided not to out you. I think you’ll do it all on your own. You would have today, if not for Sloan. Either way, I’m off to gather intelligence on our enemies. Since we are one big, happy pack.”
Atae frowns at Prince Truin as he strolls away with a loud cackle. Beast sneers at the smaller Kajian’s retreating form before settling back into her haze of blue calm.
“He knows?” Atae asks Sloan. Then she slaps him across his wounded chest. “How does he know? And for that matter, how do you know?”
“Ow. Who doesn’t know?”
She slaps him again, but this time he catches her hand in his, clutching it with a firm grip.
“I told them. You looked like you needed help. All confused and whatnot.” Sloan wiggles his fingers at her, but Atae’s glare prompts him to continue his explanation. “Look, Schinn is an expert at shifting.”
“At least he’s supposed to be,” Marqee says. Jeqi glances at him in surprise.
“But to get him on board, I needed Prince Truin and Trikk on board.” Sloan releases Atae’s hand when she jerks at it.
Trikk? Who is Trikk? Atae frowns. Try as she might, she doesn't remember Prince Truin’s second royal guard.
“So wait,” Jeqi says. “If Schinn didn’t tell you, how did you find out?”
“Sloan and I saw her blades and eyes shift during round one.” Marqee shrugs. “They were pretty obvious. And the fact that you thought we didn’t notice is really insulting.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jeqi asks him.
“Because we want you both fighting to protect Truin in the Gridiron. Otherwise, what use are you?” One corner of Marqee’s mouth quirks up into a teasing smirk, brandishing his dimples, and Jeqi fights a small smile.
“So, you’re recruiting us?”
“You’ve already been volunteered for Team Truin. We’re just making sure you follow through,” Sloan says. He glances at Atae, reminding her of her faux pas in the throne room.
“But the pledging ceremony was after round one. You had plenty of time to out me to Solum. Why didn’t you? And Prince Truin said you’re the reason he didn’t out me. Why would you advocate for me?” Atae asks Sloan. She stares at him, searching for a sign of deception in his dark face, but he answers honestly.
“Because I wanted you on my side in the tournament and the Gridiron. I certainly didn’t want you on the other side.”
“Another thorn?” Atae asks with a small smile. Sloan frowns, cradling his tender chest.
“More like a needle. A small, painful needle.”
Chapter 38
“We have failed to track down the mercenary. All ten sectors have been cleared,” reports the flickering image of a Kaji warrior. “We will continue surveillance at the border stations, but we can no longer maintain the Barrier. I don’t know how, but this honorless scum has slipped our defenses. Nothing can penetrate the Barrier, so I can only assume that he is hiding until it falls. We will flush him out soon, Advisor Solum. He will not escape us.”
Solum glares at the small hologram on his workstation. His dark hands grasping the edges of the desk, Solum struggles to control his anger as the miniature warrior flashes out of existence. Solum snarls and slams his fists into the desktop, and the wood splinters under the force of his blow. He sweeps his arms across the workstation, and crumbling metal and intricate mechanisms fly across his office into the nearby wall. He howls at the injustice of the universe loud enough for half the palace to hear him. When his rage ebbs, Solum surveys the damage to his modest office and sighs in resignation. His gaze falls to the remains of his workstation, and he grimaces.
I’ve failed.
A knock at the door interrupts Solum’s dark thoughts, and he grumbles at the intrusion.
“Enter,” he says. The door slides open, and Feku steps inside to salute his packmate.
“Solum.”
“Feku, what do you want?” Solum says.
He frowns at his daughter’s mentor, while Feku raises an eyebrow at the remains of Solum’s workstation strewn across the room
“I came to discuss Atae, but your howling has me intrigued. It’s not every day that the great Solum is rattled enough to destroy his office.”
“It’s none of your concern,” Solum says. He crosses his arms over his broad chest, and Feku’s usual scowl twists into a mischievous grin at the chance to needle his long-time friend.
“You received bad news,” Feku says. He smiles when Solum growls in confirmation. “You never did take bad news well.”
“We’ve still found no trace of that damn mercenary.” Solum throws his hands into the air. “The Patrol is deactivating the Barrier. They will continue surveillance at the border stations, but that doesn’t stop him from escaping our territory by standard travel.”
“He must use the border stations to travel between stars. Otherwise, it will take him seasons. You’ve blanketed the empire with warrants for his arrest. With such a large reward, someone will turn him in.”
“I’ve failed to capture him. I’ve sent warrior after warrior to find him, and each has sent word of their failure. Worthless, all of them,” Solum says through clenched teeth. Anger at his poor performance plunges deep into his chest and strikes his pride.
“I remember when we were sent on missions like that,” Feku says.
“We never dared to return empty-handed.”
“True.” Feku shrugs. “But I don’t remember completing many missions within a couple of months.”
“Why are you here, Feku?”
Solum doesn’t appreciate his packmate’s attempts to remedy his anger. Enjoying the familiarity of their discussion, Feku smiles. It reminds him of days long past when their pack was ablaze with youthful passion. A time before betrayal and loss scarred what remains of his packmates.
“Atae,” Feku says.
“What about her? Is something wrong? Surely, you don’t still have concerns about her turning sour?”
“No, having her confront Kandorq directly seems to have resolved most of my earlier concerns. She still seems a bit distracted at times, but nothing alarming.”
“Good.”
Solum also noticed a marked improvement in Atae’s emotional stability, but the damage to their relationship is hard to bear. Atae spent the last few weeks training with her packmates, and Prince Truin monopolized Solum’s time at Queen Sula’s behest. The only time the father and daughter spent together was over meals, and Atae waffled between distrust, adoration, and resentment during each visit. She no longer seeks him out for advice or training. Solum wonders if the youngling will ever look at him the same again. Still, he does not regret his choice between their relationship and her life.
“What has you concerned, Feku? I’ve watched her in the tournament, and aside from her sloppy sword work, she’s performed admirably.”
“Yes, I agree.” Feku nods his head. “But something is bothering me.”
“What is it?” Solum frowns with an impatient sigh as he leans against his desk.
“There is something different about her. I haven’t quite identified it, but something is definitely different.”
“She and Jeqi are hiding something.”
“Most assuredly. But there is something else, as well.” Solum doesn’t respond but waits for Feku to continue. The elder warrior places a hand to his chin in thought. “She is doing too well.”
“Too well? What do you mean?”
“She is excelling in areas that should be a struggle, if not impossible.”
“She surprised you.” Solum pauses to consider this new information. “I’ve been surprised a few times, as well.”
“So you’ve noticed it,” Feku says. He sighs, glad to have Solum confirm his suspicions. “Are you certain she cannot shift?”
“Of course, I’m certain. Why would you think that? Have you seen signs?”
“Not since the attack. But hiding a shifting ability would explain her performance in the tournament.”
“That’s ridiculous. You honestly believe a hybrid youngling could control her brand-new shifting ability well enough to hide it from you and me?” Solum says. “Not to mention the cameras recording her every step in the tournament.”
Feku opens his mouth to respond, but Solum cuts him off.
“And the beast. Do you remember how hard it was to control it in the beginning? Sloan’s response to Atae in the throne room after the pledging ceremony is exactly what happens when adolescent Kaji are challenged by their beasts. And you think Atae is hiding that?”
Solum throws his arms up and glares at the other warrior for entertaining such foolishness. Feku hides a nostalgic smile as he watches Solum in his aggravated state.
The elder warrior rarely won an argument with the royal advisor. In the past, he left debates to Roga. The feisty female never hesitated to take an opposing position from her mate. Roga dug her heels in and challenged every statement Solum made, all the while boasting an arrogant smirk that drove him mad. She mostly argued against Solum because she enjoyed the challenge, but Roga occasionally argued with conviction. The difference was like night and day. One was playful and humorous; the other was passionate and demanding. When it truly mattered, Roga only ever conceded one argument to Solum. Their last one. Watching Solum’s concern and passion for the youngling he fought so hard to prevent, Feku can’t help but smile. Life is strange sometimes.
“What is so funny?” Solum says, snapping Feku from his memories.
“You’re right,” Feku says. “There is no way Atae can shift. It was a silly thought. And if we’re wrong, we’ll find out in the next round.”
“What do you mean?”
“My students will have to contend with trestoids in the final round.”
“Ouch. That won’t be fun. It sounds like round four is designed to weed out those with control issues.”
“Among other things.” Feku nods.
“That’s wise. And trestoids will definitely put this shifting nonsense to rest, one way or another.”
“It should be very entertaining. Anyway, you shouldn’t be so hard on Atae’s skills with a hilt. Given how little time she’s had with one, she’s performing adequately.”
“Yes, she’s improving quickly with Sloan’s tutoring. She’ll make a decent sword handler if they don’t kill each other first. I’ve sat in on a couple of their sessions.” Solum shakes his head at the image of Atae biting off a chunk of Sloan’s ear amid a heated match. “You were right to partner them. Sloan is a very skilled sword handler, and he’s dominant and stubborn enough to keep her focused. It’s a shame that he is a ferog. I’d be surprised if he makes it past round four, given the trestoids. Perhaps, that would be for the best.”
“Perhaps,” Feku says.
“Do you think he’ll go feral?”
“All ferogs go feral at some point, given enough stress. Their beasts are too dominant for them to maintain control over them. That’s why they avoid the Gridiron.”
“Ferogs are slaves to their beasts.” Solum shakes his head. “I almost pity Sloan. Do you think he knows?”
“None of them truly understand what their walking into,” Feku says. Sloan’s situation is a reminder that all of his students will soon enter the most dangerous Gridiron in history, and many of them will not survive.
“It won’t be that bad,” Solum says. “You’ve trained your students well.”
“They’ve had record-breaking entries into the Royal Gridiron, and it’s still six months away. I’m responsible for the data they use to project my students’ survival rates. It’s a very sobering task.”
“And Atae’s odds?” Solum asks. He twists his mouth to hide his concern for the young hybrid.
“You’ll find out with everyone else when I post it to the KIC after the tournament.” Feku doesn’t have the heart to tell his friend that hybrids are the least likely to survive the Royal Gridiron due to Royce’s growing support.
“Rest assured, Solum. Between Marqee, Sloan, and Jeqi, Atae has a solid pack on which to lean when necessary. That’s probably why she’s doing so well in the tournament.”
“Yes, she did very well during the last half of round three. Too bad it took Sloan’s pep talk to straighten her out. It’s strange what a little confidence can do for younglings,” Solum says.
“You’re right. She was less distracted and more aware of her surroundings. Almost like-”
“She cannot shift, Feku. It’s more likely that she regressed a bit toward souring before Sloan pulled her out of it.”
“Okay, fine.” Feku smiles and holds his hands up in defeat. “But what do you think they are hiding?”
“I don’t know,” Solum says with a dismissive shrug. “Honestly, I don’t have time to care. They are younglings. Let them have their innocent secrets.”
The door swishes open, and Queen Sula Ru-Kai rushes into Solum’s office. Her long braid swings at her back as she pushes past Feku. Solum stands from his chair to greet his monarch.
“Queen Sula, what are you doing here? Feku and I were discussing-”
“Get out,” Sula says. She points her finger at Feku, and he flinches.
“Sula, is everything okay?” he says. Her menacing glare and threatening growl stop him in his tracks. “As you wish, my queen.”
Sula watches Feku leave then scans the room with her piercing amber eyes. She glares at every crevice in the wall until she finds a suspicious knot. Solum watches with a confused curiosity as Sula lunges at the wall behind the holographic map and jams the palm of her hand against the knot. Much to Solum’s surprise, a section of the wall slides open to reveal the startled young prince.
The heavy stone creaks to a stop as dust billows out from the ancient passageway. Solum peers over Sula’s shoulder and inspects the hidden entrance to his office. He notes the long path leading away a
nd the small peephole in the wall. Solum growls deep in his chest at Prince Truin’s blatant violation of his privacy, but also at his failure to notice the youngling’s presence.
“Mother! How did you know?” Prince Truin asks. Stunned by his mother’s keen perception, he scrambles to brush cobwebs from his face and hair, puffing a breath at the swirling dust particles. She narrows her eyes at him and speaks in a dangerous tone.
“Get out.”
“But-”
“I said, get out.” Sula grabs her son by the collar, jerking him from his hiding spot. “Or I’ll rip your title from you. Then you won’t have a reason to go charging into the Royal Gridiron. You can just stay home and watch safely from the sidelines. I truly have no qualms with that.”
“Yes, Mother.” Prince Truin nods his head in submission. When Sula releases him, Truin spins from her and attempts to leave through the hidden pathways from which he came.
“Not that way,” Sula says. Her son rushes to the office door through which Feku exited. Once he is alone with the queen, Solum leans against his damaged desk with a sense of forced calm designed to hide his anxiety over Sula’s erratic behavior. He watches the stoic female struggle against inner troubles as she swivels to face Solum. Her heated amber eyes swirl with anger, resentment, and…
And fear? What could possibly frighten Sula?
Then she blinks, and the warrior’s mask slips back into place. As her hardened gaze meets his dark orbs, Solum wonders if he imagined the queen’s moment of vulnerability.
“I received this just moments ago,” Sula says. Her calm tone hides a whirlpool of emotions. She hands Solum a black tablet. Standing straight, he places a single finger on the touch screen, and it jumps to life with a hologram projected from the small screen. The torso and face of a slim, male alien with similar features to the Kaji, albeit scrawnier, stares at Solum. The creature’s slender form and green skin give him a reptilian appearance. His long, dark green hair grows from the top of his head and past his shoulders, leaving the sides of his head bald. Solum half expects the creature to flick out a thin, forked tongue like many reptiles. Instead, the alien speaks in a smooth, silky cadence that’s almost soothing.