Shadow of the Colossus

by Nicole Grotepas

  Xadrian cried in pain as he was presumably nicked by the knife. Holly hoped it was just a nick.

  After several minutes of struggle, everything stopped as Xadrian suddenly caught the thug’s wrists as he tried to bring his knife down in an icepick move onto Xadrian’s shoulder. They were locked in that move, as voices rose in the corridor outside Holly’s berth. She realized she could stop this all and flipped her knife around and brought the hard end of the hilt down on the thug’s skull, hoping to knock him out. A jolt went through her arm and she felt a gut-wrenching reverberation move through the knife into her arm.

  It worked. He crumpled against Xadrian, who caught him.

  “What’s happening here?” Odeon asked from the door, his voice full of alarm. “Holly, are you ok?”

  The feathers and dust from the pillow created a haze that made it hard to see.

  “I’m ok. Xadrian? You ok?” Holly asked.

  He was in the process of lowering the limp body of the thug to the floor. He grunted an affirmation. “Despite the cuts. I’m fine. Thanks.”

  “I thought he got you too,” Holly said.

  Grant also appeared in the door, as did Shiro. They chattered as well about what had just happened, asking after Holly.

  “Come in. Shut the door. It’s a tight squeeze, but we don’t need more people to notice this little scenario,” Holly said.

  They complied. Someone found a way to bind the wrists of the coalition member. Grant and Shiro dragged him into the bathroom, shut the door, and gagged him. Then they cleaned up the feathers and threw the pillow case into a rubbish bin. Shiro managed to pull the large knife out of the bed frame. As they inspected it, Holly felt the bile rising again. That knife had nearly gone through her throat. She absently touched her neck.

  Odeon’s face was a billowing, violet thunderhead. He scowled. “I should have prevented this. It’s my fault.”

  “How could you have?” Grant asked. “As a commander I didn’t stand for talk like that. Unless it’s evident that it was indeed the fault of the one complaining. Otherwise, my friend, it’s just a reason to lose sight of the end-goal in a self-pitying spiral.”

  “I agree with Grant. I don’t blame you, Odeon. Neither of us were careful enough,” Holly admitted. “He must have stowed himself in a compartment when we came in earlier before I fell asleep.”

  “I could have checked. Should have. I wasn’t thinking, Holly. I’m so sorry. That’s why it’s my fault.”

  “We’ll be more cautious in the future. ”

  “He’s the one who was in my grandmother’s shop,” Odeon observed. “Did you notice?”

  “Yes, you’re right, old chap,” Shiro confirmed. “I thought I recognized him.”

  “I thought so too,” Holly said, “but in the heat of the moment, it was difficult to think straight. I wonder if it means the girl is here too.”

  “Well, unlike Odeon, I have no problem pushing the blame onto someone else. I feel quite strongly that this is your fault, Holly,” Xadrian said. He’d found a towel in the bathroom and was attempting to staunch the flow of blood from a long, red gash in his shoulder.

  “Thanks for the help. But, please.” She looked at her arm, which was also bleeding, and gestured. “You’re not the only one who got hurt. It might have been worse if you hadn’t showed up.”

  “Yes, you owe me. Again. So many things that Holly Drake extraordinaire owes me,” Xadrian said. “Only, I don’t know if you’re that extraordinary. I disagree, slightly, with our employer.”

  “You would.” Holly accepted a proffered towel from Shiro, who had gotten one from the bathroom for her. Odeon was lost in thought, still troubled by what had happened.

  “We only have two hours before arrival. Any ideas what we do next? Sleep is out of the question for me.” Grant was also wearing pajamas. Plain dark blue, loose-fitting. Somehow he managed to look distinguished even in sleeping attire. “I have to say, Holly Drake, that I look forward to being back on Kota, working in my boring shop again. I wasn’t sad to leave the excitement behind me and I’m surprised you’ve all survived this long.”

  She met his gaze, a bit surprised. He winked. That was more like it. Sure it was a lot of surprises, some of them dangerous, and often she wanted to be rid of it herself.

  But really? She’d saved enough people that she knew her work was worth it and was beginning to accept it as her calling. It was the least she could do, after being unable to return to teaching.

  Grant and Shiro carried the thug into another room. Odeon found a way to open the latch that only took seconds. After they cleaned up Holly’s room and she changed her clothes and packed up, she stayed in Odeon’s cabin the remainder of the journey. The rest of the crew departed to their own cabins. Odeon helped Xadrian bind up his wounds before he retired to dress and finish out the rest of the voyage. He would have to see a doctor when they arrived, as would Holly. The gashes needed to be sealed to heal without major scarring.

  When the ship docked, Grant and Xadrian went to where they left the thug and removed his gag so that he would be found. They also delivered a threat that, in no uncertain terms, was a promise that if he came after them again, he wouldn’t fare so well.

  EIGHT

  The Surge Club had never looked so damn amazing to Holly. So welcome. So inviting. It was beginning to really feel like home.

  She’d been given a numbing agent and her wound was on the mend. It would only take a day to finish healing with the boosters, thanks to Centau medicine which worked reasonably well on humans.

  An early snow flew outside as Holly wound her way the last remaining feet through the morning throngs, across the street and through the front doors of the club.

  “Here she is!” Torden shouted, in an uncharacteristically happy tone. “The woman of the hour.”

  “Hey, Torden,” Holly said, taken aback. “I’m happy to see you too.”

  He smiled, then leaned across the bar, pausing in unpacking boxes of spirits. In his lavender hands he held a bottle of Joopan vodka. “Charly needs you. And I need you, as a distraction for Charly. She’s been going nuts on me. That’s why I’m so relieved to see you—you’ll save me from her.”

  Holly nodded. “Ah. What do you mean, nuts? She’s supposed to be planning our next job.”

  “She was. It’s mostly planned. And now she’s bored. There haven’t been enough dignitary events of late. So she’s not staying busy.”

  “Maybe she misses the action of the jobs. Being out with the rest of us.”

  “The fighting. Yes, she misses it. All her frustrations come out at me when she’s not getting enough fighting done. Sometimes that is just what I want. Other times,” he gave her a look. Shaking his head.

  “I get it, I get it,” Holly said, raising her hand.

  Torden saw the bandage on her arm. Her jacket sleeve was rolled up to accommodate it. “What happened?”

  “Stabbed. Well, slashed. But we took care of him.”

  Torden’s violet complexion darkened, which was the equivalent of blanching for a human. He turned and began putting bottles away again, keeping his gaze on her.

  “It’s fine. I didn’t kill him.” Holly stopped, thinking. “Well, that’s not to say that I wouldn’t if the situation required it.”

  “You don’t have to explain, Holly Drake. I know what you are and what you’ve done.”

  “Wow, Torden, you make me sound so terrible.”

  “Not terrible. Strong. Determined. I wouldn’t cross you. Or Charly.”

  “Admit it, Tord, you love how different humans are from Yasoans. We’re dangerous. You like that.”

  “They’re upstairs waiting for you.” He smiled at her and opened another wooden crate and began removing bottles.

  She laughed as she skirted the bar and leapt up the stairs, two at a time.

  “Well, well, well,” Charly said from the window overlooking the bar. She turned and looked at Holly, beginning to clap slowly, sarcastically. “You get al
l the gossip from Torden? I thought you were never going to come up. What’s he saying about us? About me?” She moved to her desk, plopped down onto the chair, leaned back, and rested her booted feet on the edge of her desk.

  “Chill, Charly,” Darius said, rising from his seat in front of his bay of computers and approaching Holly. He put one hand on each shoulder and inspected her. He glanced at her bandage, then gave her a beso on each cheek. “Gave us a bit of a scare.”

  “He means himself. I wasn’t worried. Not for a minute.” Charly inspected her fingernails.

  “You guys worry too much.” Holly took off her jacket. She struggled a minute with the arm with the bandage, but managed, and draped the jacket over the back of one of the armchairs.

  “Not enough, if you ask me, Ms. Drake,” Shiro said. He turned and brought her a cup of kasé. “With sugar and milk for the woman who likes all things sweet.”

  “Ahh, Shiro, thank you. But I don’t love all things sweet. Some I like bitter and tart. Like you.” She winked.

  “I’m not tart. Or bitter. I take offense at that.”

  “Come on, Shir, everyone knows you’re a pill. That’s all she means.”

  “Hey Odeon,” Holly said, sitting beside him on the sofa. He nodded at her, but avoided eye contact, which she immediately noticed.

  “Holly,” he said. His club rested across his thighs and he placed a hand on it, and rolled the club up and down his thighs, up and down, up and down. It was as though . . . as though he were nervous. She didn’t remember the last time she’d seen him nervous. Was it never, in fact?

  He’d been stand-offish since the night on the Copper Nebula when he’d taken ownership for her nearly being stabbed right through the throat. When he’d seen the knife embedded in the mattress and frame of her bed, he’d fallen to his knees beside the bed as though his legs had turned to water. No one knew what to say. Grant had tried to comfort him with a gruff comment that Holly would never be so irresponsible as to let herself get stabbed through the throat. She was too tough for that. But it did nothing to comfort Odeon, who’d gone quiet and listless. He was like an unwatered flower.

  “They bandaged me up. I should be fine soon. Xadrian’s was a bit deeper. He’s been such a massive boob about it.” She laughed, trying to pull Odeon out of his funk. “Has anyone talked to Trip?” Holly looked around at the rest of the crew. Everyone could see that she was worried about Odeon. They were worried about him too.

  “She’s fine. But her ship isn’t. It’ll be a week or two more till they have the parts that need to replace the damaged ones,” Darius explained.

  “Trip is fab, but let’s be real. She wouldn’t love this job we’re about to do. She’s a Centau.”

  “The job is from a Centau, though, I thought,” Holly pointed out.

  “Yeah, but that’s a Centau with questionable Centau morals.”

  Shiro sat in an armchair and sipped his kasé. Then he removed his bowler and placed both his drink and hat on the coffee table. “You have the details on the job, correct, Charly?”

  “I got them. Darius?” Charly nodded at him.

  Darius turned and began running things from his v-screens. The big screen above the kasé machine started showing images and video. Together Charly and Darius filled the crew in on the details about Muibaus’ Might. It was small. Small enough that when they took it, it would only require concealment in a bag, and they could replace the original with a replica. They didn’t have all the details worked out, however, such as when the right time to snag it would be. They also required some of the codes to get past security.

  “Is anyone else concerned that the job isn’t going to work with the Shadow Coalition still out there?” Odeon suddenly asked. He’d been staring at his knees, vaguely listening, and now he looked up, his normally bright eyes clouded.

  “It’s fine, Odeon. This job won’t wait forever.” Charly stood and began pacing around her desk.

  “What if they come after us again? What if, this time, Holly doesn’t wake up and dodge the knife? I can’t be there every second of her life, making sure she’s ok.”

  His worries were coming out. And now they couldn’t change course. Holly shifted and stood, feeling his mood like a breeze blowing off him. She took her now empty mug to the table and put it down.

  “Nah, Odeon, it’s all good. Nothing’s going to happen to Holly. We’ve all got her back. Her worst luck is on trains and zeppelins. As long as we keep her off those, she’s good.” Darius spun in his chair and looked at the Yasoan.

  “Holly is strong. Tough. She’ll take care of herself, Odeon. Although, chap, I do understand your concerns.”

  Holly wanted to stop Odeon too and tell him to get a hold of himself. But. He was right. And the memory of that knife plunging toward her greeted her every time she closed her eyes, lately. Sleep had been complicated since it happened.

  Holly sighed. “Maybe Odeon is right.”

  Charly threw her hands in the air. “Really? Come on, guys. This job. This job will pay us some big dividends. Dave hasn’t been giving us a damn thing since we got the kids. What’s he doing? Are we done with him?”

  “We’re not stopping the job completely, Charly. I think Odeon is right. I have to admit that waking up to a knife in my face has been unsettling. I—it’s been hard to sleep since that happened.” It wasn’t the best thing that she wanted at the moment—to confess being disturbed by nearly being ice-picked through the throat. It made her feel weak and vulnerable to stand there explaining it to her crew. They were tough. It was likely that none of them would ever confess such a mental struggle. But fuck it. She’d been avoiding their gazes, but something in her told her to lift her gaze, to not shy away from what she was sharing with them. To own it. So she did. They were staring at her. Darius was nodding, with his finger tips pressed together into a steeple, then tapping against his lips. He made a gesture when she looked at him that meant, “power to you.” Or at least that’s what she thought it meant. Her students used to do it.

  Shiro grabbed his bowler off the coffee table and put it on his head so that he could tip it at her. “Then, count me in, Holly. Er, Ms. Drake,” he corrected.

  Charly didn’t do anything, just pursed her lips and nodded, then looked away. Holly knew that hearing about the knife and Holly’s difficulty sleeping most likely reminded Charly of the stories about Graf. And that would just piss her off. And also it would cripple her against fighting against putting the Muibaus job on hold while they dealt with whatever they could with the god-forsaken Shadow Coalition.

  “You know, I’m sick of the Shadow Coalition as well. I would love nothing more than to move on and do something new. Forget the bastards.”

  Odeon’s eyes had brightened, slightly. He was finally meeting her gaze with his again. There was something in his eyes. She almost lost her balance, standing there, leaning against the kasé table, falling into the depths of his brilliantly hued eyes. What was it? Love? She had to admit that whatever it was her Yasoan friend felt for her was beyond friendship. She’d just never taken even a moment to think very hard about it. She loved him like a brother. Like a guardian. Like an old friend who she’d go any distance to see, to support, to find if they were in trouble.

  “Drake, I got some connections. Contacts. I’ll throw out some feelers, gather some intel. Find out what I can about these bastards. I’ll also finish my recon on the Centau home that’s holding the statue. So that we can move on this job as soon as we’re ready. I don’t want to wait long on it, because I agree with Charly. We need the money. Or it could be the end of this…” Darius waved his hand around the Bird’s Nest.

  “We need to find the goddamn Heart and wipe the bastard out. Kill the Heart, kill the SC.” Charly slammed her fist into her hand.

  “I’m so tired of saying that. But you’re right,” Holly agreed, grateful she didn’t have to keep thinking about Odeon and whatever was alive in his penetrating eyes.

  Shiro took off his bowler and t
ossed it onto the coffee table. “I have contacts as well, Ms. Drake. And I’ll quiz them until they give up the details we need.”

  Holly grinned. “So you’ll talk to Voss?”

  Shiro dropped his cane at the foot of the armchair where he was sitting with his leg crossed. His saddleback shoes glinted in the track lighting of the Bird’s Nest. “Um, what? Pardon?” He snatched the cane up quickly, as though they might forget he’d dropped it.

  “Voss is one of your contacts, isn’t she?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  “Please,” Darius said, making a talking motion with his hand. “We’re not idiots, Shiro.”

  “Everyone has a job?” Holly asked, looking around at her crew. She picked up her jacket and began to put it back on.

  “Holly, I haven’t been given one,” Odeon said.

  “What do you normally do?”

  “Whatever he wants. He’s Odeon fucking Starlight,” Charly laughed. “Don’t mess with him. I’m going to finish making plans on the Muibaus job, while I’m out and about digging up shit about the SC.”

  “Do the same, Odeon,” Holly said. “You have contacts. I know you do. Talk to them. And be careful.”

  “Where are you going?” he asked, a pained look flashing across his face.

  “To talk to Meg.”

  NINE

  Aeolionaias saw the bandage and asked about it as Holly studied the wall of weapons. She took a deep breath and let him in on the story. She was prepared to be scolded by him, but instead, he congratulated her on her steel nerves and calm in the face of a knife coming at her face.

  “The throwing knives work, but you need another knife for self defense when it comes to a real knife fight.”

  “I have one,” she said. She pulled it out of the top of her boot. “It was my father’s when he was on the City of Jade Spires police force.”