by Kristie Cook
“Okay,” Kyr amended. “Maybe that’s overstating things. It might be better to say I’d like to receive your message now.”
“All right. Please give me your hands.”
Kyr did as instructed. She felt an instant connection with Caelys, one that she couldn’t explain. It was like their minds were talking to each other, but not in the same way that she and Ty “talked.” It was more like Caelys was projecting herself into Kyr. Kyr’s head felt too full, as though it was housing two brains.
Maybe it was.
“There is a sense of urgency and desperation in the air,” Caelys said, her voice clear and strong. Somewhere in the back of her too-full mind, Kyr registered that the elder female’s lips weren’t moving. “The spirit of Yen-Ki talks to me. Usually, it is a soft whisper. Now, it is a steady roar.”
Kyr couldn’t look away from the Prima Divyner’s deep blue gaze.
“Alametria is enjoying a time of peace, but that peace will soon come to an end. Illusions will be shattered.”
What? Kyr thought numbly. But she was the Ascendant. She was supposed to bring peace … unite worlds. What nonsense was this?
“I foresee a time of darkness,” Caelys continued. “A time of questioning and uprising. People will turn to you, the Ascendant. And then they will turn against you.”
She should feel fear, Kyr thought, but she felt nothing. There was only a pair of eyes holding her in thrall.
“You, the Ascendant, will be challenged. In body, in mind, and in soul. You will be faced with making life-altering decisions and terrible sacrifices. If you make those sacrifices, you will open yourself up to unspeakable pain, but you will spare Alametria from its dark fate. If you do not, you may find happiness, but many will suffer.
“In the end, it will all be up to you.”
The final words faded in Kyr’s mind. She felt the Prima Divyner’s influence leaving her. Her brain, so full a moment before, now felt too light. The room spun.
Then everything went dark.
Chapter 29
“Oh, dear.”
Ty hurried forward as Kyr slumped in her chair. He was already by her side and touching the side of her face by the time Caelys issued the sympathetic words.
“That was a difficult one,” she murmured, lifting her teacup and taking a sip. “I am certain she will rouse herself shortly.”
Nodding, Ty made sure Kyr wasn’t going to fall from the chair and then stood quietly, waiting for her to wake up. He wasn’t about to take her from the room in such a condition so everyone could see her.
“Do you remember your foretelling, Dem-Shyr?” Caelys asked, meeting his gaze.
“Of course, Prima Divyner.”
His first and only meeting with her had been brief and to-the-point. “You will be the weakest Mynder in Alametrian history, TaeDane,” she had told him. “And as such, you will be the strongest Mynder in Alametrian history.”
He still had no idea what that meant. He couldn’t decide whether to be insulted or proud of himself. Since he didn’t consider either prediction to be true at the moment, he felt neither.
Kyr moaned, stirring beside him. He felt her confusion and the lingering headache from her audience with the Prima Divyner, and used his abilities to help settle her mind. She blinked slowly and looked around the room, orienting herself. Her face was waxen.
“Ty …”
He barely heard her. She clutched the arms of the chair, her knuckles white. Reaching down, he picked her up. Her head lolled onto his shoulder. It was clear she wouldn’t be in any condition to walk back to her chambers on her own anytime soon. He had little choice but to carry her, after all.
“Apologies, Prima Divyner,” he said. “Ma’jah Kyr will surely convey her gratitude once she recovers.”
Caelys set her teacup aside and folded her hands in her lap. “I am not one to stand on all of the formality, Dem-Shyr, but thank you.”
He nodded and turned to go.
“She’ll need you in the end.”
Glancing back, he met the Prima Divyner’s sharp gaze. “She will have me,” he said.
At Ty’s silent command, Gren opened the door so he could exit with Kyr. Neither Gren nor the other Mynders who had traveled with them commented on Kyr’s condition, though Ty sensed Gren’s concern. His friend had grown fond of Kyr during his time Mynding her, something Ty could understand.
A minute later, they nearly walked into Avana as they rounded a corner. She gasped and drew up short, then started to hurry forward when she registered Kyr’s condition.
“Ma’jah!” she cried.
Gren reached out to stop her before she could touch Kyr. Ty sent him a thought that all was well, and he backed off.
“You met with Madame Caelys, didn’t you?” Avana asked, using the Prima Divyner’s title reserved for other Lujas.
Her question was directed at Kyr, who nodded woozily. Ty felt emotion rising within her as she finally began processing what she’d been told by Caelys. He didn’t want her breaking down in the middle of the hall. Deciding that the situation called for it, he used his influence to calm her.
“Oh, Ma’jah,” Avana said, taking Kyr’s hand. “You know your destiny. You are the Ascendant. You will extend the peace we have on Alametria to other worlds. Whatever you learned today, it was only to put you on the right path to fulfill your destiny. Don’t doubt that, okay?”
This time, Kyr didn’t even nod. Ty said, “Ma’jah does understand, Avana. She’s just got a lot to consider right now. I know she’ll want to speak with you later.”
“Of course.” Sadness filled Avana’s gaze as she stepped back so Ty could pass. “If there’s anything I can do …”
“We will certainly let you know.”
Bowing, Avana watched as they walked away. Ty continued on to Kyr’s chambers, taking less-used corridors to avoid as much interaction as possible. Fortunately, they only saw a few Wrym wandering the halls as they performed their tasks, so he was soon settling Kyr on the same couch in her chambers that he had used the night before for sleep.
Allow me time alone with her, he sent out to Gren. I wish to try to help her with my influence.
Gren nodded. The guards stepped outside. Ty didn’t even have to ask the Wrym to leave. They took one look at his stony expression and bowed on their way out the door.
He sat beside Kyr, pulling her against his side. They sat like that for a while. He eased his influence from her so that she could process things on her own. As her emotions spiraled through her, they spiraled through him. It was hard, knowing there wasn’t much he could do to help her.
“You are helping me,” she said in a soft voice. “Just by sitting here with me, you’re helping me.”
He kissed the top of her head in a gesture of comfort. “You’re getting really good at reading my thoughts. It was one thing when I was sending them to you. That in and of itself was unusual. But you just being able to pull them from my head, well … no one can do that.”
She lifted her eyes to his. “Why do you think I can read your mind?”
“Because you’re the Ascendant.”
She seemed to grow smaller, making him want to kick himself for reminding her of the pressures she faced. The statement hadn’t been any more or less than the truth, though.
“Everyone had me believing that being the Ascendant was this great thing,” she said, sounding dejected. “But I’m not going to help everyone. I’m going to bring about a time of darkness. I’m going to have to make sacrifices, or … or not make them, and let everyone else rot. I mean, what the hell kind of choices are those?”
Ty responded, “Pretty damn shitty ones.”
Her shoulders tensed beneath him. Then she started laughing. Bright, beautiful peals of laughter.
“Oh, Ty,” she gasped, wiping a tear from her eye. “That was the exactly right thing to say.”
“I aim to please, Ma’jah.”
Shaking her head, she ventured, “I suppose it’s too late for
me to stow away on the next vessel bound for Anywhere But Here, huh?”
“You just missed it.”
She sighed and wove her fingers with his on top of his thigh. “What am I going to do?”
“You mean, what are we going to do?” he corrected.
Her head tilted against his bicep as she looked up at him again. “Ty, I would never ask you to help me with something like this. You heard what Caelys said. People are going to turn to me and then against me.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked away. “It sounds like it’s all going to be pretty awful. You don’t need to be a part of that.”
“Yes, I do,” he said, lifting her chin so she met his gaze. “Kyr, you don’t believe that I would ever let you endure all of that alone, do you?”
“No. Of course not. You feel obligated to—”
“This isn’t about obligation,” he argued. “Damn it, Kyr, don’t you have any idea what you mean to me? You’re everything to me. Everything.”
Her ragged, indrawn breath made him realize that she hadn’t known, not really. He sensed from the lightness of her heart that his words were welcome, though, and had done wonders to help ease her mind.
“Oh, Ty,” she said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. “I love you so much. If anything ever happened to you—”
The lightest click had Ty surging to his feet faster than Kyr could register. She was still staring beside her on the couch as Vycor walked into the room. Ty stood a foot away from Kyr, looking at Vycor with the appearance of mild curiosity, but inside, fear wanted to choke him. He realized he had been so focused on Kyr that he hadn’t left his mind open to Gren for any warnings.
Had Vycor heard Kyr’s declaration of love?
“I have come to check on your welfare, Ma’jah,” Vycor said, walking over to the couch and bowing. “I understand you had an audience with the Prima Divyner.”
Kyr’s color had once again drained as she also realized she might have been overheard. Fortunately, since she was still recovering from the shock of her foretelling, her wide eyes, dilated pupils, and shallow breathing could all easily be explained away.
“I did, Advisor,” she said, deliberately keeping her gaze on Vycor. “I must admit, I had hoped for happier news. It … wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“The future rarely is, is it?” Vycor replied, glancing briefly at Ty and then back at her. “I am sorry to hear that the Prima Divyner’s predictions upset you. I sense your inner turmoil. Unfortunately, I must further intrude on your day with another unpleasant task.”
Ty tried to pick up on Vycor’s thoughts. The other Mynder was older and quite powerful, though, and knew how to shield himself from Ty’s lower-level intrusions. Any further probing on Ty’s part would make Vycor even more curious, assuming he’d actually overheard anything.
“What task?” Kyr asked.
Ty felt her worry. She wanted to look at him, but knew better than to do so right then. He sent her comforting thoughts that he sensed weren’t working as well as they should since she could now intuit his own concern.
“Are you aware of the Shelvak prisoners we brought back from Earth?” Vycor asked.
“Yes,” Kyr responded, her posture straightening. “Sem told me about them.”
“Sem? Ah, yes. SemDane, the male who posed as your friend on Earth. I saw you dancing with him.”
“He is my friend,” she said with a frown.
“Of course,” Vycor said in a way that conveyed he was indulging her. “Well, as I was saying, the time has come to impose a sentence on the three attempted murderers.”
Ty’s jaw flexed. He knew where this was going. Kyr’s brows drew together as she picked up on his thoughts.
“Are you saying that I’m the one who has to issue the sentence?” she asked.
“Yes, Ma’jah. Now that you have returned from your lessons, the time has come for you to begin assuming some of your responsibilities as the Ascendant. You will start by judging the three enemies who tried to kill you.”
Chapter 30
What a splendid day this is turning out to be, Kyr thought as she walked between Ty and Vycor on the way to the judgment chamber.
So many thoughts ran through her mind that she couldn’t really settle on just one. The Prima Divyner’s predictions, Ty’s heartfelt declaration, her huge blunder that might get them found out, and now this. She was expected to issue some kind of judgment on three Shelvaks, and she’d been back on her planet for barely one full day.
“As SemDane might have mentioned,” Vycor said in a low voice, “the Inquisitors attempted to interrogate the prisoners. Unfortunately, the Shelvaks do not talk, and no Mynder in history has ever been able to read their minds. Over the centuries, we have come to think they are rather mindless creatures … at least, the ones sent out to hunt. I imagine there is a core of more intelligent Shelvaks somewhere on their planet. They wouldn’t have the technology and wherewithal to do things like find you on a distant galaxy otherwise. But these three are clearly disposable.”
She didn’t think any living thing should be considered “disposable,” and it bothered her that he could talk so nonchalantly about it.
Alametrians who undergo the Ruvex Rite are supposed to have their negative emotions purged, Ty reminded her. That includes guilt, or at least many of the elements of it.
In her mind, guilt wasn’t only negative. It was there to help deter people from doing bad things. Eliminating that emotion was just foolish.
We are supposed to be enlightened beyond needing guilt to serve as our conscience.
She felt his doubt. It mirrored hers. As she glanced at Vycor and saw the small smile playing around his lips, she had a feeling that “enlightened” didn’t always mean “right.”
“Why has this judgment fallen on me, Advisor?” she asked. She was grateful for the Mynders surrounding them as they walked, as they had reached a more populated part of the palace and people were stopping to stare. “Isn’t there someone more, well, qualified for this? I don’t know anything about how these proceedings work. I haven’t had any training.”
He laughed. “Training? I fail to see why you would need training to formally issue a sentence of death.”
Her step faltered, but Ty kept her moving. Remain calm, Kyr.
You’re kidding, right? He did just say that I have to issue a death sentence to the prisoners, didn’t he?
No. He said that you have to pass judgment on them.
She tried to reason out what he was trying to tell her, but they came to a stop outside of a nondescript wooden door. It was the first regular-sized, undecorated door she’d seen inside the palace. Although there wasn’t any sign reading, “Meet Your Death Here,” there was a somber energy about the area that might as well have been a billboard with flashing lights. Kyr rubbed her upper arms, deliberately brushing against Ty’s fingers on her arm.
I’m right here, Kyr.
The door opened and they filed in. As Kyr looked around, she once again stumbled. Ty kept her upright and moving while she tried not to gawk at what she saw.
This was no judgment, she realized. This was a spectacle.
They were in an arena. A freaking arena! Or maybe it was a coliseum here. Who cared? All she knew was that there were rows upon rows of seats circling a floor, and every seat was full.
Her mouth went dry. Not only did she have to issue a death sentence, she had to do it with everyone watching. There were even some children in the audience, she noted with growing dismay. Were the Inquisitors going to kill the Shelvaks right there in the middle of the arena? Oh, God … they were! Her heart dropped into her stomach.
“You are expected at the podium, Ma’jah,” Vycor said, waving at a raised section of the floor to the right.
Ty led her over to it. Deep breaths, Kyr. We’ll get through this together. You’re strong. I know you can do this.
He kept up the steady stream of encouragement as he guided her up to the podium. She realized there wasn’t room for him to
stand beside her, and felt bereft when his hand left her arm. At least she had him in her head, she reasoned. That offered her some relief.
Vycor walked over to stand to the right of the podium. When Kyr looked over at him, she chanced to see her parents sitting in the front row, just over his shoulder. They had their own special viewing box. A bitter taste filled her mouth as she glanced from her parents to Telad and Ravina sitting beside them. She supposed the V’larian ambassadors had been allowed to attend since they had helped capture the Shelvaks.
She didn’t want to know who else was there. She really didn’t. Turning her gaze to the center of the arena floor, she focused on her breathing and Ty’s calming thoughts.
“Bring them in,” Vycor ordered.
His voice was somehow amplified. She didn’t see any microphone, but guessed the room had a sound system she wasn’t aware of. Wait a minute—did that mean her podium was amplified, too?
Her thoughts were interrupted as a set of doors opened to her left and the three Shelvaks were led out by males dressed entirely in black. She gasped when she realized that the gown she wore mimicked their clothing. Had that been deliberate on her mother’s part? Had she known about this from the moment she entered her chambers that morning and instructed the Wrym accordingly?
A loud murmur swept through the crowd as the Shelvaks were herded in. The sudden jump of negative energy in the arena struck Kyr like a shot. It felt like dark lust.
What was that? she thought.
I don’t know, Ty returned. Alametrians aren’t supposed to gain pleasure out of this. In fact, this is meant to be a reminder of why we purge negativity.
That made absolutely no sense to her. Who the hell had come up with this stuff?
As the Shelvaks were brought closer, Kyr was able to make out more details about them. They were naked, she realized, their pale flesh exposed to the light. Dark red spots formed along their skin even as she watched. The light burned them, but they made no sound. It was horrifying.
They were restrained around their necks, wrists, and ankles by chains that rattled jarringly as they advanced. The Mynders guarding them—the Inquisitors—held de’llums, but stood a safe distance away. Before long, they came to a stop thirty yards from the podium.