by A. M. Deese
Chapter Twenty-Seven
JURA
“Shut the door.” She barked out the order, pacing the length of her room. Gone. He’s really and truly gone.
“You two. Search the palace halls. See if you can find him.” Had he left on his own? Had she forgotten to latch the trapdoor? Had he made his way out and was now wandering the halls, forced to the bidding of his master? Or had someone else found him and spirited him away for their own purposes? She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming out in frustration. Think Jura, you can do this.
There was a smart way to handle this. No one except her and her father’s Arbe knew that he’d been held captive in her room. She continued to pace. Tylak knows. She pushed the thought aside. If he had anything to do with this, her father was truly gone. She was missing something, somehow. Either through Tylak or her Arbe, one of the Thirteen had learned where she was keeping her father. Arbe had no form of communicating. They couldn’t speak. They couldn’t write. Could it all be a coincidence?
Say someone entered her room looking for something. They tear the room apart and happen upon her trapdoor. Naturally, seeing the First inside they remove him from his prison. But what would someone have gone to my room looking for? She had nothing to hide except her father. No, whoever was responsible had gone looking for her father. It made sense really. She should have seen this coming. Whoever was responsible for her father’s blood chain would get tired of waiting for results. It had been nearly two weeks. It was safe to assume that her father had yet to complete his tasks. It had to be someone in the council. They were all aware that her father was indisposed, and Jura had assured them that he was thriving in her care. Someone had known she was lying and someone had taken action to find him. Who has him?
She should never have gotten so complacent, so confident, that all would be fine. Her Arbe returned shaking their heads in disappointment. They hadn’t found her father.
Wait. The men shook their heads. Sandstorms, but she was an idiot. Just because an Arbe couldn’t speak or write didn’t mean they couldn’t communicate! There was body language. At the very least they could answer yes and no questions.
“None of you saw who did this?”
They all shook their heads, eyes downcast in shame. It was well within her right to kill them in punishment for being lax. She assured them she would not do so.
“Do you have any idea who might have done so? Any one I should suspect?”
Again, they shook their heads.
She tried another tactic. “Can you all talk?”
They stared at her with unblinking eyes.
“Is it possible for you to communicate with one another?”
They nodded, their heads bobbing slowly in unison. She felt chills run down the length of her spine.
“How is this possible?”
They stood unmoving. Then West slowly brought his hands together.
What is he trying to tell me? “I don’t understand.”
West pointed at Jura and brought an open hand to his chest, then he pointed to himself and splayed his fingers.
She shook her head, confused.
Frustrated, East pointed to a book then opened his hands together in the shape of an open book. Then he pointed to Jura again, slapping his chest.
“Are you saying you communicate with your hands?”
They nodded their heads.
“So, you can communicate with each other!” She narrowed her eyes. “That means you can communicate with other Arbe. Have you told anyone else about my father?”
They quickly shook their heads. West looked horrified.
“Then how did this happen?” she growled in frustration, sitting heavily on the floor. The Arbe stood unmoving before her.
“You don’t know who did this?”
They shook their heads.
“And to your knowledge, none of the other Arbe know about this?”
Again, they shook their heads.
“But it is possible for you to communicate such a fact with another Arbe, if you so choose? You could find a way?”
They nodded.
She sighed deeply. Could they be trusted? Could she trust anyone? With Markhim gone, she suddenly wished she’d told Amira everything. She desperately wanted the strength from the support of a friend.
There was a knock at her door. Jura stood up in alarm.
She motioned for her Arbe to open the door.
Velder stood outside. His face quickly twisted into one of concern as he peered inside.
“Greatness, what—are you—is everything alright?”
Jura swallowed. “I’m fine. I was…looking for something.” What if Velder found out the Third and I were making a move for his Rank? Is he behind this?
“Indeed?” His eyes swept across the room, taking in the overturned furniture and spilled contents of her chests.
“What did you want?” she asked.
“I’ve come from your father’s chambers. I was hoping to gain an audience with the First. When I saw his Arbe outside your own chambers, I thought I might find him here with you. I have an urgent matter to discuss.”
“Well, as you can see the First isn’t here.” She narrowed her eyes at him. Was that the hint of a smile that played under his thin mustache? Velder’s own Arbe stood close around him, their faces still and impassive. She looked at them and then back to her own men, wondering if they had ever spoken to one another. Stop it, she ordered herself, dragging her thoughts back to Velder.
“What is it that you wished to discuss?”
“Private matters. Meant for the ears of the First alone.”
“I am acting interim.”
“You were acting interim.” He smiled then, and the sight of it made her nauseous. “But it appears that your father is up and about and no longer indisposed. I suppose if I cannot track him down the matter will have to wait another day. Good day, daughter of the First.”
She flinched. He’d dropped the honorific.
“I do hope you find what you were looking for.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
ASH
Beshar will kill me. Ash was a free man. It wasn’t too late for him to disappear, take his savings and leave the city. He’d spent a small fortune on the girl only to find out he’d been duped. She was powerless. A little girl with a foreign mouth and no fire sense at all. He was in serious trouble.
“What are you going to do?” Kindle’s voice was urgent, her large blue eyes narrowed in concern.
Ash shook his head, shrugging his shoulders in a helpless gesture. He looked down at the tiny, girl cadet who wasn’t a cadet at all and sighed. What do I do with her?
“You said her name was Kay, right?”
Kindle nodded. The girl looked up at the mention of her name. She looked frightened.
“Tell her we have a problem.”
Kindle frowned at him. “Why? What’s the purpose of scaring a little girl?”
“She’s already terrified and we’re here arguing right in front of her in a language she doesn’t understand. Explain to her that we have a problem.”
Kindle sighed but sank down to her knee and spoke to the girl in quiet, serious tones.
Kay listened with solemn blue eyes and a trembling bottom lip.
Kindle stood up. “There. She’s suitably terrified. Satisfied?” She stabbed her assegai into the dirt. “This is really messed up, you know that? She said her parents are dead, the slavers probably killed them in front of her for all we know. What are we going to do?”
“We?” Ash raised his brows in surprise.
“Well, unless you suddenly learn her language, I guess I’m sticking around as translator.
At her offer to stand by him, Ash felt much better. “Thank you.”
His relief lasted for all of ten seconds before it faded away with Timber’s presence.
“What are you doing on the practice field, old man? Come to watch me and my boy?” He grinned as he walked over, twirling his asse
gai with quick sturdy fingers. “Hello, little girl.”
“What, no greeting for me?” Kindle smirked.
“I was talking to you.” Timber winked at her. “Who’s the cadet?”
“None of your concern.” Ash growled. “And she’s no cadet.”
“Oh no? Then what’s she doing here? She looks kinda like you, Kindle. This your kid?” He leered over at her. “What’s your name, little girl?” He directed the question at Kay.
Kay looked up at Kindle with questioning eyes and stepped back away from Timber into Kindle’s protective embrace.
“Yeah, she’s mine. Her name is Kay and you can keep away from her.” Kindle laid a hand on either of Kay’s shoulders.
Timber grinned and Ash wanted to punch the smug look off his face. He clenched his fingers, forcing them to remain by his side.
“That’s too bad, old man. I thought you were training a new cadet, trying to bring up some competition for my boy.” His grin deepened. “Though I must say, I’m glad this isn’t all you managed to dredge up. Pathetic excuse for a cadet if she was one. She’s awful little. Sorry Kindle.” He looked around, his gaze searching. “I guess your plans fell through.” He shook his head in mock sadness, leveling an eye on Ash. “Looks like your life in the arena is over.”
Ash took a step forward. If he slammed his fist with enough force at Timber, he could cause serious damage, give the man a collapsed sternum or a crushed windpipe. He slowly unclenched his fists and forced himself to draw deep, calming breaths.
“Shouldn’t you be training your cadet?” Kindle’s voice was low and threatening. She fingered the shaft of her assegai with narrowed eyes.
Timber shrugged. “Sure thing. Ill leave you kids alone.”
He winked before sauntering off. Ash gritted his teeth while he watched him walk away.
“Cocky prick.”
Kindle nodded her agreement. “He’s always been that way. My first day as cadet was the day he had his naming day. They said he stabbed the dragon’s heart as it reared up and the beast fell heavy as a chopped tree.” She shook her head. “He’s a magical sight in the arena but could use more than a few manners.”
“I wish I could beat them into him.” Ash sighed, his eyes falling down to Kay. Her small frame still trembled next to Kindle. “Have any ideas what to do with the girl?”
Kindle forced out a laugh. “You’re the brains of this operation. Did you feed her? Timber was right about one thing, she is really little.”
She changed languages and addressed Kay. Ash could tell she asked a question by the inflection in her tone. He raised his brow in question as the girl whispered her answer.
“Says she’s seven years old.” Kindle frowned. “Maybe she’s just too young for the gift to have manifested?”
Ash shook his head. “I fed her. And no, I’ve been played is all. You should have seen her in that cage, Kindle. All hair and big blue eyes. The trader claimed he had to keep her drugged so she wouldn’t use her power. I believed him, fool that I am. At least I got her out of there. Cadet or not, no child deserves to be treated that way.”
“I’m glad you did. I’m sure she is too.” She patted the girl’s shoulders.
Kay’s attention was back on the boy cadets in the sparring field. Timber was leading them through parry sequences, the tip of his assegai flashed in the sun as he twirled it over his head.
A bugle sounded, announcing the entrance of one of the Thirteen. Ash sucked in a breath, praying that it wasn’t Beshar. He wasn’t ready yet and needed to come up with a plan before Beshar demanded a cadet or his money back. The Everflame ignored his prayer.
Beshar walked onto the dirt field, accompanied by his usual company of oiled bodyguards. Ash watched as the councilman stopped to talk with Timber. The two exchanged greetings. Something Timber said caused the councilman to let out a shout of laughter that echoed across the field.
“At least he’s in a good mood,” Kindle observed.
Ash sent her a dubious stare.
“What?” she asked innocently. “It’s better than him walking in angry.”
Timber had the boys perform an attack sequence, and Beshar watched for several minutes. Apparently satisfied, he patted Timber on the shoulder before spotting Ash and heading toward them.
Here we go, Ash thought. He inhaled a deep breath, and Kay looked up at him in curiosity. He shook his head in silent warning.
“Ash. Happy to see you’ve an early start. Is this my cadet?” He looked Kay up and down, frowning at her cowering form. “Kinda small, isn’t she? Don’t be frightened, girl. You belong to my house now. We’re winners in the arena. Stand proud.”
“She doesn’t speak our language.” Ash said stiffly, wondering what to say next. Should I just blurt out that she’s ungifted? How would Beshar respond to his wasted coin?
Beshar actually smiled. “Of course. Drakori, is it?” He directed a question at the girl in a foreign and clipped tongue.
Kindle’s eyes widened, and she looked at Ash in alarm. Beshar spoke the girl’s language. I’m a dead man.
Kay actually laughed and responded to the councilman with a slight smile.
Ash attempted to swallow his tongue.
Beshar bellowed a laugh and slapped Ash hard on the back. “Fiery little chit that one. I’ve never had a female gladiator before.” He smiled, considering it. “I like it.” He looked about the training field, seemingly satisfied. “Get some meat and muscle on those tiny bones, Ash. I have faith that she’ll deliver once in the arena?”
Ash felt like his tongue was growing larger in his mouth.
“Councilman, there’s something you should know—”
He was interrupted by a cheerful Kindle. “I’m helping him train her. Working as translator.” She squeezed Ash’s shoulder in warning.
Beshar narrowed his eyes at them both. “I’ll not pay for two trainers.”
“That’s okay,” Kindle answered, still smiling. “Ash promised to pay me out of his own wages.”
“That’s right,” Ash quickly agreed. He didn’t dare look over at Kindle.
Beshar nodded. “Well, I only stopped by to check on my latest investment. I’ll expect a thorough display of her skill next week after she’s had time to settle in.” He shot another glance toward Kay, who stared at him with wide blue eyes. He nodded at her in satisfaction and then left the arena, his oiled men in tow.
Ash exhaled loudly, watching him leave.
“What was that about?” He asked Kindle, frowning down at her.
“Just buying you time.” She shrugged. “I can’t believe he speaks Drakori.”
“What did he say to her? What did she say to him? To make him laugh?”
The corner of Kindle’s lips turned up, and she smoothed back Kay’s riotous curls from her face. “He told Kay that he was very excited to meet her but that he was surprised she was so small. She told him that she was surprised men could grow to be so large.”
Ash inhaled a breath so fast that he choked on it. He stared at the girls with wide eyes. “She called him fat and he laughed?”
Kindle smiled, “I guess he did. Maybe he liked her cheekiness?”
Ash shook his head in wonder. “Well, we’ve bought ourselves some time at least. We have a week to figure out a plan.”
“Do you think that will give us enough time?” Kindle wondered out loud.
Ash could only shake his head. It wouldn’t be enough time. No amount of time would be. He was in need of a miracle.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
JURA
She didn’t know how long the person stood knocking at her door before she recognized the sound for what it was. She met the concerned gaze of one of her men and flicked a wrist toward the door. She’d spent the rest of the morning looking for her father and had come back to her room to restore it to order and think. She’d laid down on her bed and had lost herself in her thoughts. Her father had disappeared without a trace.
The door opened and Am
ira appeared, her hair slightly mussed and her breath still reeking of wine. Once again, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, and Jura was struck by how vulnerable her friend looked without it. Also, she was wearing simple cotton robes in place of her customary dress. Jura had never seen her friend in such a bedraggled state.
“You look like I feel.” Jura acknowledged.
“I came to apologize,” Amira said. She sat on the edge of Jura’s bed and frowned down at her friend. “I think I’ll stay away from wine for a bit.” She reached for Jura’s slipper-encased foot, giving it a tug. Jura sat up, hugging a pillow to her chest.
“I know why I feel bad. Want to tell me what’s bothering you?” Amira patted her foot.
More than anything in the world, she wanted to open up to Amira and tell her what was going on. She opened her mouth but stopped herself at a disapproving look from East. Did I imagine that or is he telling me to keep quiet? She shook her head.
“You don’t have to apologize, Amira. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Your father’s worried about you. We both are. Losing your brother so suddenly…it must be very difficult.”
Amira nodded. “Yes, it’s hard. I’m surprised to hear father even noticed. He won’t come out of his study. I could use some cheering up, though. I suppose we both could. You sure you can’t tell me what’s got you so upset?”
“It’s nothing,” Jura sighed. “Really, just the stress of the week I suppose.”
“I could see that. I thought you were going to say you were upset because your guard left.”
“What? How did you know he left?”
Amira shrugged. “I haven’t seen him around, that’s all. Where did he go?”
Jura sighed. “I wish I knew. Just forget about him. It was just a stupid crush.” And maybe one day I’ll convince myself of that.