Outcaste: Book Six in the Chronicles of Alsea

by Fletcher DeLancey

  Beneath her, through the openings between the wood planks of the dock, Wildwind Bay breathed. She was glad to be here, in the place that had seen so many of the most important moments of her life. They had not all been happy, but they had led her here, to the pinnacle of her childhood fantasies and the beginning of her future.

  Colonel Shantu took the sword from her and retracted it. “Please stand, Rahel Periso Sayana.”

  She rose to her feet, looking him straight in the eye.

  He reached for her wrist, pulled up her hand, and laid the sword grip across it. “You offer me a sword extended, and I return it to you sheathed. I accept the gift of your service with a glad heart, and trust that you will stand between me and harm. Should your last breath be expended in my defense, I swear to you that your name will be honored to the utmost of my ability, and the flames from your pyre will reach the stars themselves.”

  She was twenty cycles old, a fully trained warrior, and she was now sworn to Colonel Shantu of Whitesun Base.

  She remembered Mouse, three cycles ago today, saying, You’ll be some big-name warrior, Lead Guard to the Lancer, and smiled at the thought. He had been right about Jacon, and he wasn’t far off about her.

  Later that night, after Colonel Shantu had excused himself, her siblings had returned to their inn, and Jacon had gone to check on his restaurant, Rahel sat at the end of the dock with her mother and Sharro.

  “Periso was a surprise,” Ravenel said. “Where did that come from?”

  “It was Mouse’s real name,” Sharro answered. She had made her hair stripe the crimson red of the warrior caste today.

  Rahel was not surprised that Mouse had told her. It confirmed a long-standing suspicion that he had secretly loved Sharro, too. “Do you think anyone else in the world knew?”

  “Besides his birth family? No. And I think you chose a wonderful way to honor him.”

  “Will you change your caste record?” Ravenel asked.

  Officially, Rahel had only two names: her given name and her mother’s family name. Though tradition dictated it, she had refused to take her father’s family name as her second, leaving that space blank on the form instead.

  “No. But I’m having a second set of caste ID made with that as my family name. It’s what I’ll use when I’m working, ah, unofficially.”

  “What will you use as a given name?”

  Rahel had put a great deal of thought into this. Colonel Shantu had said she didn’t need to, since it was a false name she could change at will, but she still wanted it to mean something.

  “I chose Hedron.”

  “Very old fashioned,” Ravenel said. “I’m sure you have a reason.”

  “She was the bodyguard of the Wandering King.”

  Sharro smiled, while Ravenel sipped her summer cider and pursed her lips in thought. “We don’t have kings or queens any longer,” she said.

  “No, but we do have Lancers.”

  “And you think Colonel Shantu will get there?”

  “I think he has plans. And I’m going to be there to see them happen.”

  35

  DESERT FLOWER

  For the next five cycles, Rahel worked to solve the problems that Colonel Shantu had mentioned when he offered to sponsor her. Her ability to blend in among dockworkers and outcastes enabled her to hear, see, and do things that no regular Guard could. With her assistance—often directly—Shantu broke up several smuggling rings and a protection racket, and reduced the abuse of outcastes on the bayfront. His star rose steadily, the accolades raining down as he proved himself a defender of the innocent and downtrodden.

  Some warriors might have been discontented to have a commanding officer take credit for their work. Rahel was not. She never wanted the spotlight, which would have made her work impossible. And she certainly did not envy Shantu his position, which involved the sort of game-playing and politicking that she could not begin to understand.

  The day before the end of her five-cycle commitment, she walked into Shantu’s office and placed her stave grip on his desk.

  “It’s at your service,” she said. A sword would have been more ceremonial, but that was not her weapon of choice.

  He glanced at the stave, then gave her a wry smile. “Is this your version of renewing your oath?”

  “I could get fancy about it if you prefer.”

  The smile broadened. “No, I don’t need that. It’s enough to know I haven’t lost my best Guard.” He stood and offered both of his palms. “Or a woman I consider family.”

  She met his double palm touch and blinked back tears as she sensed his unfronted affection. “I feel the same way.”

  “Your father was a dokker’s ass. He had no idea what he threw away. I do.”

  “I don’t have a father,” she said. “I have you.”

  Sharro had invited her over for evenmeal to celebrate, but Rahel found herself in a melancholy mood. Late in the evening, after drinking far too much while reminiscing about Mouse, she surprised Sharro with a kiss. It was sweet and soft, and when she withdrew, she said, “That won’t happen again.”

  “Thank Fahla,” Sharro said. “I didn’t want to have that conversation with you.”

  “I’m sure you would have been very kind about it.” Rahel walked carefully to the couch and sat down. “Mouse would laugh if he knew. He always thought we would end up together.”

  Sharro sat next to her, fingers twisted together in an uncharacteristically nervous pose. “I have someone in my life. I’ve wanted to tell you—”

  “I know. Can we not mention that kiss to her? How embarrassing. I’m blaming you for letting me drink that much Whitesun Rise.”

  “You know?” For once, Sharro was truly shocked. “How long have you known?”

  “Since I came for evenmeal last nineday and you two forgot you could be seen from the front walk. But looking back, I think I always knew. The night Mouse died—you already had her com code then. She never stayed at the caste house after that, and you could convince her of anything. I just didn’t put it together.”

  “Shekking Mother.”

  “She’s always had two families, hasn’t she? Two separate sets of responsibilities. I’m glad she has you. And I’m glad you have someone to give you comfort.” Rahel reached for her hand, needing that connection. “I made a promise that I would kiss you for real someday. I guess I didn’t realize that ‘someday’ had a time limit.”

  “And you always keep your promises.” Sharro laced their fingers together. “That felt like a farewell. Like you were closing a door.”

  She hadn’t considered that. “I told Shantu today that he’s my true father. I think . . . maybe I closed the door on my father. Finally. And we were talking about Mouse . . .” She trailed off, not sure how to say it.

  “And you were thinking about the relationships you can no longer have,” Sharro said gently.

  “It’s not that I wanted that with you.”

  “But it was always a little spark of possibility in your mind, and you just said good-bye to it.” At Rahel’s nod, Sharro pressed her lips together, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “And at the same time, you gave us your blessing. Do you even know—” She stopped with a soft laugh, then pulled Rahel into a warmron and kissed her cheek. “You are a rare, precious woman, Rahel Sayana. I will always love Mouse for bringing you into my life.”

  “I wish he could be here, too. He deserved so much, and he got so little.”

  “Don’t think that. He had you for two cycles.” She moved back and placed a pillow on her lap.

  With a contented sigh, Rahel stretched out in her favorite position. “Do you know what the strangest thing was about my Rite of Ascension?”

  “Hm?” Sharro was already brushing back her hair.

  “Realizing that Mouse never had one. That I was a cycle older than he was when he died. Now I’m six cycles older. He’s getting farther away.”

  “No. Your last view of him is getting farther away, that’s all.�
� She rested her hand over Rahel’s heart. “He’s right here. He’s not going anywhere.”

  Rahel covered her hand and held it. “Colonel Shantu gave me a new wristcom and earcuff today. They’ve improved the waterproofing from ten to fifteen strides. As if I ever had any plans to spend time fifteen strides underwater. Even my first wristcom was waterproof. If I’d had that instead of my old com unit . . .”

  “You could have called him the moment you came to the surface after diving out the window.”

  She nodded. “And he wouldn’t have died.”

  “Yes, he would have.” Sharro pulled her hand from beneath Rahel’s and settled it on top, interlacing their fingers. “Maybe not that night, but that was where his road was leading eventually. Mouse was a desert flower. He waited for the rain, and when you came along, he blossomed. He was beautiful. But desert flowers can only shine for a short time.”

  “Huh. So I was the rain.” Rahel wasn’t sure how she felt about that idea.

  “You brought him life. When you remember him, remember that.”

  36

  RIVALS

  When Rahel was twenty-seven, the Prime Warrior retired and a competition began amongst the high-ranked warriors to become her successor. The field of rivals soon shrank to just two: Shantu and Colonel Tal, commander of Blacksun Base.

  Colonel Tal was young for her position, a strike against her in this fight. She had only recently been promoted to the rank of colonel, and many warriors felt she was overreaching by trying to make Prime so quickly. She also lacked the reputation Shantu had acquired during his ten cycles as commander of Whitesun Base. Finally, she was the daughter of a warrior and a scholar. For any other title, that would not have mattered, but the Prime was the leader of the caste. Shantu was the son of two warriors, and for many voters, that carried weight.

  Shantu was confident of his chances, but told Rahel that Colonel Tal had one big weapon in her arsenal: her connections in Blacksun. She had been born into and raised in the elite circles of Alsean government, and her friends were powerful indeed.

  The campaign was fierce, roiling the warrior caste and dominating conversations wherever Rahel went. She cast her vote in nervous anticipation and could hardly sit still while the votes were tallied. Colonel Shantu was having an election party at his house and had invited her, but she was not comfortable around those kinds of crowds. She waited at Sharro’s house instead.

  The final tally was announced at eve-five. Colonel Shantu had won. She would now address him in public as Prime Warrior Shantu.

  Sharro turned to look at her, the warrior-crimson streak in her hair catching the light. “We’re going to lose you, aren’t we?”

  “You’ll never lose me.”

  “But you’re going to Blacksun. Rahel, that’s half a world away.”

  More like a universe away. Rahel squelched the thought and tried to bring comfort to one of the two women she loved most. “I’ll come to visit as often as I can. Besides, haven’t you always wanted to see the State Park? Give me some time to learn the city, figure out where all the best places are. Then you and Mother can come up. I’ll be your personal tour guide.”

  Sharro brushed a thumb along Rahel’s cheekbone ridge. “This will break your mother’s heart. She was hoping Colonel Tal would win.”

  Rahel pretended shock. “She was cheering for the competition?”

  “Her family is already split in two.”

  Sobering, she caught Sharro’s hand and squeezed it. “I know. I’m sorry. But I have to go.”

  “You do,” Sharro agreed. “But we don’t have to like it.”

  Leaving Whitesun was the hardest thing Rahel had ever done. In some ways, it felt worse than watching Mouse’s pyre burn. She had only lost a cornerstone of her life then, but now she was giving up everyone and everything familiar. Sharro, her mother, Jacon, Dock One, Whitesun Base, Deme Isanelle, Hasil, all of the familiar alleys and restaurants, the fury of Wildwind Bay in a winter storm and its quiet breathing on a summer evening, the ship lights at night, slowly making their way to sea . . . they were all embedded in her heart, and she was pulling that heart out of her chest.

  But she was a warrior, sworn to serve.

  “You could resign,” her mother said, holding her in one of the warmrons she had never given up. “Surely after your service with Shantu, you could have your pick of positions.”

  “It would be hard to find anything like the one I have. Or another oath holder like Shantu.”

  “You always did have the ability to collect parents wherever you went.”

  “The one who matters most is right here.” Rahel was trying hard not to cry, but the combination of love and sorrow soaking through her skin made it impossible.

  “Well, I know better than to stand in your way.” Ravenel stepped back and accepted the kerchief Sharro handed her. Dabbing her eyes, she gave a shaky laugh and added, “I’ve known that since the day a City Guard told me you’d rather serve four moons in detention than go back to your father’s house.”

  “Haven’t you given up that burden yet? You only stood in my way for two cycles. You’ve been my greatest supporter for ten.” Rahel dashed away her own tears.

  With a palpable effort, Ravenel straightened and said, “I remember the day when you said you wanted to be an explorer. I wasn’t listening then. Rahel—go explore the other side of the world. We’ll be here when you want to come home for a visit.”

  She did not fly in the same transport as Shantu and his family. He said it was more important than ever that she be his eyes and ears in the shadows, and she could only do that if no connection were made between them. She arrived a nineday earlier and spent her time learning the city.

  At first she hated Blacksun. It had no Wildwind Bay. It sat in an enormous valley, surrounded on all sides by high mountain ranges, and she felt trapped there. Blacksun residents took pride in their city, especially the way it bestrode the junction of the two great rivers that drained the mountains, but when Rahel stood on the bridge just below this much-touted junction, she laughed. It was so small! Yes, the Fahlinor and Silverrun Rivers were nice enough, but how could one combined river, no matter how deep and broad, compare to the fierce beauty of Wildwind Bay? There would be no storms coming in off this water, no breathing as it surged against the pylons of the bridge. There was just a chatter, a kind of happy conversation, as it flowed beneath her.

  But the State Park really was as glorious as everyone said. It was much bigger than Whitesun’s central park, containing a real forest within its borders while Whitesun’s had only groves of trees. The landscaping was enough to keep three hundred producers employed, and she found that she could spend a happy hantick sitting on the bank of the Fahlinor, looking across to the parkland on the other side. A park that straddled a river was definitely worth telling her mother and Sharro about. And the caste houses—she had to tip her head back to see their tops. Blacksun Temple was grand on a scale she had never seen before, and the State House itself took her breath away. She went on the visitor’s tour and wandered about like a tourist, her head swiveling this way and that as she absorbed the imposing architecture, the ancient art and furnishings, and the sheer legend of the place.

  Shantu had an office here. She wondered if she would meet him in this stunning building, the seat of Alsean history and government, or if they would be more clandestine. From what she had already heard, Blacksun’s network of rumormongers and spies put Whitesun’s to shame.

  When Shantu arrived, he quickly confirmed her impressions of the risk. They would be meeting at his home office, not in the State House.

  A cycle passed before she felt properly knowledgeable of Blacksun’s shadows: its quiet corners and alleys, its meeting places, its underground clubs and communities. She asked Shantu once if he wouldn’t be better served with a warrior who already knew the city, but he was adamant that she was the one for the job.

  “I trust you,” he said. “I don’t trust anyone else here.”


  Three cycles after they arrived, Shantu seized the opportunity provided by growing dissatisfaction with Lancer Tordax and quietly instigated a caste coup. Rahel gave him the names of several key players who held the power behind the scenes, and Shantu used her information to not only start the avalanche but also position himself directly atop it.

  Once again he was up against Colonel Tal, who leaped at the opening Shantu had created. But this time, her mixed-caste parentage worked to her advantage. Her scholar mother had been well known and was still remembered fondly by the Blacksun elite, giving the scholar caste a reason to swing behind her. Shantu could not compete with that, especially when he was on record speaking so proudly of his own pure warrior heritage during the Prime Warrior campaign.

  Colonel Tal played up her parentage in campaign speeches. She spoke eloquently of growing up half-scholar and half-warrior, a dual education that made her more understanding of the concerns of both voting castes. She also pointed out that Shantu had been elected Prime Warrior just three cycles earlier, a direct strike meant to suggest that he was overreaching. It was the same reasoning that had defeated her in the campaign for Prime, and it was very effective against Shantu now.

  “I should have waited longer,” he grumbled a nineday before the election. “Damn that woman. She’s not qualified for the job, but she does speak with Fahla’s own tongue. She has all of the scholars and half the warriors eating out of her hand.”

  “She doesn’t have my vote.” Rahel didn’t think much of Colonel Tal, who had grown up with every advantage being handed to her rather than having to work for it the way Shantu had. The way she had.

  “That’s a critical vote,” Shantu said. “Certainly one of the most important to me. Ah, well. I won’t win it this time, but there’s one big problem with sitting in the State Chair: keeping it. Once she’s in, she’ll have to govern. Then her weaknesses will show. When the next opportunity comes, I’ll be perfectly positioned.”

  Colonel Tal was backed by a large majority of the scholars and enough of the warriors to make her win a landslide. She handed over the functional command of Blacksun Base and assumed her new title in a ceremony that packed fifty thousand people into Blacksun’s sporting stands.